#anyway fuck you if you think this way; you're stupid and i'm done being nice about this <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[0kurakura0]

Flirts of irritation

Soap x comms operator reader headcanon

this is the correct way to do a headcannon right???

Being soap's main operator for comms would be the true trial of blood pressure control

"SOAP, I SAID TO MAKE A SMALL EXPLOSION, NOT A GOD DAMN GENDER REVEAL NUCLEAR BLAST," you yell through the speaker as you witness the explosion that was meant to just simply cause a small distraction. "aw, but Bonnie just trying to show you my fiery passion"

soap that will start random conversations about planning dates, even during field missions.

"I was thinking," "Wow, that's a first." "Oof, that hurts my wee little heart, Bonnie. Anyway, I was thinking of a nice little cabin getaway you..me." "Can you just focus on not getting shot right now......" "Aaaaa..... too late about that...." "WHAT"

soap who collects rocks for you on missions, and you keep them on your desk as you work as good luck charms

you who get scared when communication gets cut and you can't get through to soap.

"SOAP! SOAP! ARE YOU OKAY?!" "......" "FUCKING HELL SOAP, COME ON! Come on, say something," you say, tearing up. "Don't leave me here we haven't done that stupid date you promised." "..... so is that a yes to that date, Bonnie?" soap breaks through while coughing. "YOU'RE AN ABSOLUTE ASS MACTAVISH," you yell back, crying, but a small smile creeps onto your face. "hehe, but I'm your arse," Soap says weakly as he keeps coughing.

[emiliosandozsequence]

this is a fantastic time to bring up something i've noticed for a while now: you people literally treat latinx people like we're 'diet white people' unless we're mexican. it's like you've all already forgotten that we were one of the racial groups trump singled out. it's gotten to the point where this is literally just part of racism towards latinx people; you treat us like we exaggerate our problems when it comes to race or that they straight up don't exist and act like we have it easy in comparison to other races. especially if we also don't have an accent or are pale. speaking as someone who is a pale latinx without an accent, if you believe that, then you're crazy and don't know what you're talking about and really need to start educating yourself because you literally are being racist.

[theminecraftbee]

Joel turns around. Martyn is standing there. His eyes are a burning red that gives Joel the heebie-jeebies. If anyone would know to be scared, it's Joel! He would! He'd recognize a mad dog if he saw one anywhere!

Anyway, all of that is to say that his high-pitched scream had been totally justified. "Oh my word Martyn what are you doing here?" he says, clutching his hand over his heart, several feet further back than he'd been thirty seconds ago.

Martyn snorts. "Is the sign not for me? Figured there was no one else it could be for."

"The what?"

"The sign."

Joel turns around. Outside his base, the other Mounders have hung a helpful banner: "SORRY EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD <3".

He'd told them it was kind of rude, hanging that up. Sort of made light of the whole thing, really. His wife and Mumbo and Jimmy had died, guys, don't be idiots about it. Bdubs had loudly told him that he was TRYING to be helpful, Joel, geez, why don't you appreciate his efforts? Pearl had shrugged and said they don't exactly make cards for this kind of thing. Joel's pretty sure they do, actually but...

Sorry everyone you love is dead. Hah.

"My wife is dead, Martyn," Joel says.

"Who, Lizzie or Jimmy?" Martyn says, weirdly dark. "Anyway, my husband's dead, so--"

"Your what?"

"Mumbo and I got married one time. Everyone forgets that for some reason."

Joel has to think about it a while. "Huh."

"Yeah. Anyway, you've still got the other Mounders, huh? Don't know what you're crying about. Thought the sign had to be for me. Thought I'd show up. Get cake. Kill some people. You know how it is."

"If there's a TNT minecart in my base, the first thing I do after I turn red is kill you," Joel says.

"That's not really how it works this time," Martyn says.

"Yeah, well, screw you," Joel says. "Also, they didn't make me any cake. I should ask them for that next. Hah. A cake."

"You know, maybe don't ask for that? Parties tend to go wrong in this game."

"And who's fault is that, huh?"

"Hey, don't look at me! Or, do. Since I'm going to kill everyone, on account of everyone I love being dead and all. Really convenient excuse for murder, that. I should use it more often, if it didn't involve the crippling grief," Martyn says.

"Oh, please. At least you tend to have people to love in the first place," Joel snaps.

"Oh, right, that is your curse, isn't it?" Martyn says. "Sorta broke it last time, but you do tend to get isolated and a bit crazy. Hey, I wonder if we're the ones who traded, actually what with the whole wolf thing."

Joel blinks. "What?"

"Oh, we're all cursed," Martyn says. "After all, They like it better that way. Hey, do you think Jimmy's curse transferred to Lizzie, got cancelled out by the fact Lizzie tends to die stupidly, or got broken? Personally, I'm thinking random fluke, when it comes to canary nonsense."

Joel stares at Martyn. His throat is dry. "What?"

Martyn stares back. "Hey, I'm the mad dog this time," Martyn says. "You probably shouldn't be the one growling."

"Well then, you should stop saying stupid shit," Joel says.

"Stupid? Please. It's obvious everyone is cursed. Nothing to be done about it but to play into the--"

"NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED," Joel shouts, his vision suddenly red and blurry in a way it shouldn't be when he's still on yellow. "NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED. THERE'S NO SUCH THING! YOU'RE JUST, JUST MAKIN' UP REASONS IT ISN'T ALL A TRAGEDY THAT EVERYONE I LOVE IS FUCKING DEAD, MAKING UP REASONS THAT IT--NO ONE IS CURSED! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST FUCKING HAPPENS! AND WOULDN'T IT BE BLUMIN' NICE IF THERE WERE A HIGHER POWER BUT THERE ISN'T SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CURSES!"

He's panting. Martyn is staring at him. He stares back, a snarl on his teeth, the echoes of wolves and of grief, grief, grief, grief playing at the back of his throat.

"Joel?" Martyn says, hesitant.

"My wife is fucking dead. My best friend is fucking dead. One of my new possible best friends is fucking dead. Sorry about your husband, I guess? Get out."

"Bold thing to say to the guy who can kill--"

"I SAID GET OUT!"

Martyn stares at Joel a moment longer, and Joel finds he's not scared of the madness in his eyes at all.

Martyn leaves.

Joel realizes he's crying. The tears turn into giant, ugly sobs. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead.

"I blumin' hate caring about people," he says to no one at all through choked breaths, and he kicks a rock at the banner for good measure. It pokes a little hole through it and bounces off the dick-shaped tower behind it.

"Someone really should have made both of us a blumin' cake, they should," he says next, and he sits down until Pearl runs over, having heard the shouting. His face is red and his vision is still swimming. She stares at him, gathers him in her arms, and cries with him, and for the life of him, he doesn't know if that's any better.

[coffee-and-tea-time]

ᯓও Wish I was your safe space…

Hi, coffee speaking! This is a comfort drabble about a kind of tsundere yandere and a reader who went non verbal, I'm not really used to writing tsun in yanderes but I think it ends up well.

Hello, there! Tea speaking! It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been a bit busy with college stuff and whatnot, I'll be sure to edit and make some more stuff once i have a break (I'm dying with all these assignments)

Tw: yandere behavior, swearing, somewhat willing reader, established relationship?, anxiety, nonverbal reader due to burnout, hints of safe food/drink, general comfort and fluff, it's a tsundere-yandere but protective so yeh…

"Why aren't you replying to my messages?"

You get surprised at the sight of those bright yellow eyes on you as he gets closer, his voice sounds like something between annoyed and worried. It also appears that he already managed to get a copy of your house keys

"..."

"Why aren't you saying anything to me? How can you manage to get hurt in the blink of my eye?"

You slightly shake your head, wondering what you could do to make him understand, your head goes a million thoughts per second, fearing to upset him due to being nonverbal at the moment, your breath quickens a bit… until a warm and tender touch on your check steals your attention.

"You don't seem like you have a fever or injuries, is this the 'battery' thing you told me about?"

You nod, relieved that he seems to understand what is going on. He then sits on the bed right beside you and holds you in a semi hug, as if you're gonna fly away or something.

"It's okay, you don't need to talk, you just need to be here and exist with me… I will stay right besides you, I won't let anything come in your way, you need a proper rest right now, I'm gonna make sure you take it and if you rather me not being here, then, sucks to be you, I will stay and make sure you don't die or something"

Despiste his words that make you kinda want to punch his stupid pretty face, it also feels nice to be cared for, although not with the best word choice, it's clear that he cares when you feel his hand shake a little as he holds you gently, he must've gotten worried and run here without missing a beat, it's almost sweet enough for you to forget to ask yourself how he got inside your home in the first place.

"I will order some of your favorites, lay down on bed while I go get some water for you, I'm not that dumb not to guess your schedule must be fucked up right now"

You were about to fight back but he gently pushed you down onto the bed again.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. you don't like being ordered around and bla bla bla but when you feel like the energy is drained out of your body, it means that you really are forced to have a rest"

You really can't fight back that logic, although part of your brain is worried about being a burden, you decide to let yourself indulge him for a bit as you watch him leave the room, probably going straight to the kitchen; Now that you think about it, he did say he would order some of your favorites, does he really already know your taste on food? Well, guess you will find out soon.

"Here, I got some water, the food will be here in about half an hour, it's good that I brought this with me before coming here"

As you put your gaze on him, you notice he's holding a glass of water in one hand and your favorite drink in the other, you instantly reach to grab it like a desperate dehydrated man in the desert who just found an oasis.

"Nope, not so fast, hun"

You return your focus on him as a frustrated frown appears on your face.

"First the water, then you can have your special drink"

Reluctantly, you drank the water since there's not really much of an option and you truly need that drink.

"Huh... It's weird and a relief that you didn't kick me for saying that or tried to grab the drink anyways, well done, honey"

You do a little happy huff as you grab your precious prize just as he sits beside you on the bed to quietly pat your back.

"You know? I'm aware this is close to a story you tell the police about rather that something romantic but, even if you find it unsettling, I want you to know that I care for you, even if it seems like it takes just a second for something to happen to you, I hope to be here every single time"

A feeling of a faint kiss meets your forehead.

"You're a disaster, but you're my disaster, dummy"

Even if you think of hitting him for saying that, a stupid smile creeps on your lips.

bzzzt

"Oh, that it's my phone, should be the food. we will eat first and then come back to cuddles"

He stands up and just when he is about to leave the room to go get the door.

"Oh, and don't think for a moment you will be free from me, I'm gonna make sure you get better"

That sounded more threatening than it needed to, but it didn't sound that bad…

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

Images from pinterest

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I did dishes tonight and was bent over, yeah, you guessed it, filling up the Jet-Dry thingy and thought how nice would it be to have Draken come up behind me and whack me on the ass. And then it just got terribly, terribly out of hand and now we're like 2500+ words shorter on life. I'm so sorry I do this shit. But you don't have to read it. (THOUGH ILY ALL SM FOR READING IT!!!!)

C/W ::: Domestic!Draken x F.reader, fluff, some smut.

WC ::: 2,572

You're bent over the dishwasher filling up the rinse agent again. Because even though everyone that comes through your home CAN do things, doesn't mean they WILL.

You're filling it up and it hasn't spilled yet. Like, all of it has gone into the receptacle and it's perfect. You hear Draken's heavy, booted footsteps approaching you and you're so excited to tell him your stupid little feat over the dishwasher. "Ken! Ken! Guess what I just di-" he smacks your ass with a cupped hand. And so hard, too, that it almost makes you fall forward onto the open dishwasher door.

"What. The. Fuck. Have. You. Done!!" you say to him in a tone that's borderline scaring him. "Did you not see what I was doing here? I c- hoh man. Oh my god, Ken."

"W- why're you talkin' to me like that? What'd I do? Why ... why is your face so red, sweets, hm?" You stood up and turned around, the jet-dry all over your hand. And you're so much shorter than him. He doesn't understand this fear that's bubbling up in his stomach at the way you're staring at him with such ... murderous intent.

"Um, th-thank you for doing the dishes ... right? Is that what I'm supposed to say right now?" You slap his arm, making him yell in surprise. "Ow! Wha-"

"Don't interrupt me!" you yell at him. "You know damn well why I'm upset with you. Don't play dumb."

"Ohh, is this about the ass smack?"

"Yeah, it's about the ass smack! Do you realize how perfectly I was pouring that stupid dishwasher spot rinse this time? You just ... you ruined it! I'm gonna have to wait until it's run out and try again! AGAIN!"

He laughs. "Aw, baby, you're cute when you get all mad like this. It's adorable."

"Ryuuguji. This is not fucking funny to me! You can't just hit me like that while I'm trying to do something else. I was bending over for god's sake. You couldn't just, I don't know, tap me or something?"

"Uhhh, but you love it when I smack your ass, babe. Don't even try to deny it."

"That's beside the point! You can't do it every time."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so fuckin' hot when you're bent over like that, I wouldn't feel the need to!" You stare at him with your mouth agape. "I'm just sayin'!" he adds.

"Just. Shut up. And go back to your show." You turn around and start filling up the dishwasher again. He puts his hands on your waist, sliding them around to your stomach. "Ken ... I love you, but don't touch me right now."

"What if I don't wanna watch TV anymore? What if I wanna watch that pretty mouth of your wrappin' around my..." he pressed his erection against your ass. "Hm? You look so pretty."

"Are you kidding me?"

"What, you don't want my dick anymore? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying! I don't want it right now because you're being insensitive!" He laughed.

"Why are you being so fuckin' psychotic about this? It's just the stupid spot rinse. And anyway, wasn't I helping you by getting more of it to circulate around in there? I think I deserve a thank you for being so insightful without even knowing it."

You turned around and shoved him away. "You're unbelievable. Seriously." You put the cap back on the spot rinse and walked away from him. "I don't wanna talk to you."

"Oh, come on! Baby, don't be like that! It was just a joke!" He followed you into the living room, where you were sitting on the couch with your arms crossed. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I'll let you do your thing from now on, okay?"

"And how am I supposed to know if you're just saying that to appease me? You can't just apologize like that and expect me to believe you."

"I'll prove it to you. I'll watch your every move and make sure you’re not doing anything else before I smack your ass. See? I can be considerate too."

"Okay, well, if you can go a week without smacking my ass when it's poor timing, I'll believe you."

"A WEEK? I can't smack your ass for a whole week? Babe. Come on. You're being cra- unreasonable about this."

"I'm being what?"

"Nothing. Just. Fine. A week it is."

"Good." You smirked at him. "So, you can start by letting me finish filling up the dishwasher right now."

"No." He said. "Puttin' my foot down. And - and no. You getting all huffy about the fuckin' dishwasher has me hard as fuck and I want you to sit on my lap. Now."

"Are you kidding me? No! I'm not having sex with you after you made me spill my hard-earned dishwasher spot rinse!"

"Baby, it's just dish soap."

"AH-HA! It's not dish soap. It's a rinsing agent!" You don't know why you felt like you'd won the whole thing right then and there. But Draken just shook his head at you and walked to the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, undoing his pants.

"Fine. Just know that I'll be over here, jackin' off while you're doing your little thing. And you'll be missing out on a good time, so, you know. Your choice."

You didn't care. You went back to the kitchen and started filling up the dishwasher again. This time, you had a timer set for 5 minutes. If you couldn't fill it up in that time, you were going to give up and come back to it later.

Draken stayed on the bed with his cock in his hand, stroking slowly while he watched you from the bedroom. It was kind of hot, seeing you so determined. He knew you weren't going to let him win this one. And that turned him on. A lot.

But you couldn't do it. The timer went off and you still had a little left to do. And it pissed you off. You walked back to the bedroom and threw a pillow at him. "Happy?"

He smiled at you. "Why don't you come and find out?" You looked down at his hard cock and back up at him. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the pillow, throwing it back to its spot on the bed.

"I'm not gonna have sex with you while you're being such a brat." You started to walk away but he grabbed your arm and pulled you toward him.

"I- sor- sorry. I'M being a brat? Who the fuck do you think you are! Talk-" he pulled you so you were standing right in front of him and yanked your yoga pants and panties down in one motion. "Talking to me like that. You're the brat here, brat. And you know what," he laid you over his lap so your ass was in the perfect position to spank, "you're about to get a little lesson in respect. I'll show you who's a brat."

"K- Ken ... don't you dare!" But he was already bringing his hand down on your bare ass, making you yelp in surprise. "Ah! Ow! Don't you fucking dare!"

He smacked you again, harder this time. "Respect, bitch!" He smacked you again and again, alternating between cheeks. "Who's a brat now?"

"You, Ken! You! Oh my- oh my god, please stop!" You were laughing so hard that tears were running down your cheeks and you couldn't believe he was doing this to you. It stung but it was also turning you on.

He stopped spanking you and pulled you onto his lap, laying you on your side so your ass wasn't touching anything. "You okay, baby? Huh?" He ran his fingers over the red marks on your skin.

"I hate you so much," you said, still laughing.

"No. You don't." He kissed your cheek and ran his hands over your body. "You love me."

"Yeah, I do."

He lifted you up and positioned you so you were straddling him. "Good. Now. Let's have sex."

"Um. I don't think so." You slid off of him and looked around for your pants. They were in the garbage. "Really, Ken? The garbage can?"

"What? It's not like I meant to throw them there."

"Mm-hm. And besides, you just spanked me! Multiple times! So no. N-O spells no." You started to run away from him, still bare assed. Your ass jiggled all the way down the hallway and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. 

"Oh, no, you don't!" He ran after you and tackled you onto the couch, pinning you down with his body. "I didn't say you could go anywhere. You're staying right here with me."

"Ken, please!"

"Please, what? You want me to spank you more? Is that it? You liked getting your ass slapped, huh? You little slut." He pushed his cock against you, pressing it against your clit. "You wanna get fucked?"

"Yes! Yeh-hess, I want you to fuck me, Ken."

"Hmm. Not so fast." He pulled away from you and got down on his knees on the floor, lifting your legs up over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thighs, his lips ghosting over your skin. "You know how much I love these thighs of yours?"

"Mhm. Ken, please."

"Really. Now you're begging me for it? You're fuckin' unbelievable. So needy 'n shit. Got some nerve." He pressed his tongue against your clit, flicking it back and forth. "I don't know if I'm ready yet. You're gonna have to work a little harder than that to get me going. 'Sides, you had your chance. Several, actually. So really, this is your fault." He went back to licking your pussy, his tongue delving into your folds. 

You brought your fingers to your mouth and licked them, rubbing them over your clit, moaning as he ate you out. He pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own. He started to rub your clit faster, making your hips buck up. "Mm. Good girl."

"Ah! Ohh, fuck!" Your orgasm hit you hard, making you moan loudly. "Ken! Ahh, fuck!" You tried to push him away, but he kept going, licking and sucking at your wetness until you couldn't take it anymore. "I can't! Fuck, I ca- hah!"

He finally stopped and sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with his hand. "There. Now. How do you feel about fucking me now?"

You laughed at him. "Fuck off."

"Aww, come on, baby. You know you wanna." He leaned forward and kissed your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. "Let's finish filling up the dishwasher together, hm?" He helped you up and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked.

"I can't believe you," you said, laughing. "You really did that."

"Hey, you said no sex. I was just taking it a step further by removing all of your clothes so you couldn't even pretend you were gonna have sex with me. In this household, nudity is not frowned upon. In fact, I may tell our friends that if they come over, they have to take their clothes off. You'd like that, huh? I see the way you look at Mikey and Baji. Kazutora sometimes. And Chifuyu. And Mitsuya."

"OK! Jesus. Yeah, your friends are hot. But I'm in love with you, you caveman."

"I know. But it's okay. They don't mind that you're in love with me, either. So don't worry about it. You can fuck any of them if you want."

"I ... wh-what? I don't want to fuck them. I just like lookin' at them. Jesus. Way to give me up so fast! Wait, have they - have they said anything about wanting to fuck me? No no no. Don't answer that. Let's just do the dishes so you can fuck me."

He laughed and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward the kitchen. "Fine. Come on, then. Let's fill up the dishwasher and get you back into bed for round 2."

"Oh god, please don't call it that."

"What? What else would you call it? Fucking?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Oh, right. The fucking. Got it." He walked over to the dishwasher and grabbed the spot rinse. "Here. Fill it up. I'll watch." He leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest.

You sighed. "Fine." You picked up the bottle and filled it up, not spilling a drop. "You're ruining my fun by watching me so closely."

"Nah. You're just being a little brat again." He stepped closer to you and pressed his erection against your back. "And you know what happens to brats, right?"

"Yeah, they get punished."

"That's right, baby. That's exactly right." He spun you around and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours hungrily. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard right here on the counter, you’ll never do the dishes again without thinking about my cock."

You giggled and shook your head at him. "You're such a horny fuck, Ken. I love it." You started to push his boxers down his hips.

He pulled them down and stepped out of them, his cock hard and ready for you. "That's my girl. You ready for me?"

"Mhm." You lifted your leg up and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer. "Fuck me, Ken. Fuck me right here."

He thrust his cock into you, making you gasp in surprise. "There it is. That's what I love hearing from you." He fucked you hard and fast, his hips snapping against yours as he pounded into you. "Ahh, fuck. You feel so good. You feel so fucking good."

"Ohh, Ken! Ah! Fuck! Oh my god! Hah!!!" You cried out, scooting closer and closer to him off of the counter.

"Yeah? Fuckin' feels so good yeah? Fuck I love it when you're loud!" He began thrusting even harder into you.

"No! There's a fork stabbing me in the ass, get me off of here!" you yelled, trying to get away from the sharp metal object.

He laughed too hard at that and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. "There you go, baby."

You sighed in relief. "Thank you." He climbed onto the bed with you and pulled you on top of him. "Now I want you to ride me. Ride my cock." He held your hips and helped you move up and down on him. "Fuck, you're so hot like this. Yeah, just like that."

You moaned as you rode him, your hips rocking back and forth as you took him deeper. "Ken, you're so fucking good." You leaned forward and kissed him, your tongue sliding into his mouth. He kissed you back, his tongue rubbing against yours.

He started to thrust up into you, matching your rhythm. "That's it, baby. I love forking you." He smirked.

"What the fuck did you just say? I'm done. This was not meant to happen today." You climbed off of him and went to the bathroom to clean up.

"Babe, I'm sor-" he couldn't talk he was laughing so hard. "I'm sorry! Come here. C'mere."

"No. You know what? No. Go fork yourself, Ryuuguji. Don't speak to me for the rest of the day." You chuckled.

You don't know what you did to deserve this beautiful man in your life. But you thank the God's everyday that he loves you back.

Taglist ::: @kazutora-kurokawa @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @arlerts-angel @katkitkats @honeycloudz @lesyeuxde-amour

To the people I never tag, I only tagged you because you <3'd my silly little post. I won't tag you in anything else (unless you specifically request to be so. Thanks!)

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - Chapter 3

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, brief mention date rape, domestic violence, not reader oh make me over, i'm all i wanna be, a walking study, in demonology - celebrity skin, hole

3. for the life of the flesh is in the blood 

It is both a relief and a disappointment, that you find your first experience of feeding on John Constantine was quite singular. No one since has inspired the same brand of heady lust when you break a vein. You think about him often, but you've done your best to give the demon hunter a wide berth. You're sure the last thing he wants is some needy little leech following him around, begging for his attention. 

You're sure he only saved you out of pity, anyway. 

It still hurts, so you try not to think about it anymore.

You have taken to hunting your meals amongst the evil doers of the city—of which there is no shortage, in the City of Angels. Your favorite method has become playing the party-going damsel in a bar not watching her drink. When the inevitable asshole drops a dose of something in it, a thing you have found does not affect you at all, you play drowsy and accompany him to the inevitable alley or sometimes even his car, where you pounce.

You can't say you feel too terrible about removing such trash from the population. You're not sure how God feels about your methods, but then you're not sure it matters any way. It helps pay your rent too. Holding down a job as a vampire kind of went out the window, so you help yourself to whatever cash you find in your criminals' wallets with little remorse. 

The fact of the matter is, as time goes on...you don't exactly hate being a vampire. It took some adjustment, sure, but you have power you'd only dreamed of as a human woman. You can go anywhere you want now without fear. You are fast. You are strong. You haven't figured out flying yet, but even that seems like it might be possible down the line. 

Maybe you could ask a fellow vampire about what is and isn't possible, but you have yet to actually meet one. 

You've sensed them around the streets of LA—but in the end you always chicken out and flee the scene. The vampires who made you were not exactly shining examples. You're not in a hurry to fall in with their ilk. You'd observed there was a definite pecking order in the coven that took you, and you're not exactly eager to become some asshole's toady again, a little cog in some evil plot or another. You’d played that game in corporate America in your old life, and you're not going back to it. 

One evening when you are heading out for the night you run into John in the hallway again. 

You are astounded when he is first to greet you. "Y/n."

"Hi, John." You can't help but feel the contrast to the way you used to play this game. You feel the loss of innocence, of your humanity, so keenly when you see him. You'd be a liar if you said the sight of his stupid, handsome face didn't still move you. The loss of what might have been...hurts, like a half-healed wound with a finger in it. You haven't been avoiding him, per se...but seeing him still ties you up in knots in a way you don't necessarily like. 

"You look...nice." You glance down at your dark low-cut dress and leather jacket. Bar bait chic. It's quite a shift, from the sweet floral sundresses and bright colors you once favored. 

"I was just popping out for a bite to eat."

"Yeah?" He is looking at you with an intensity that makes you squirm a little inside. A look that a vampire does not like, on the receiving end from a demon hunter. "How's that...going for you?" 

"Fine."

He looks around the hallway for potential eavesdroppers. You already know it's vacant. Your hearing was excellent on the night you were Born to Darkness, and it's only improved from there. 

"Fine?"

You cross your arms with a look of what the fuck else do you expect me to say out here?

Constantine makes an annoyed sound that's almost a growl. 

You shouldn't find it as endearing as you still do. 

“Come talk to me a minute?” he invites, nodding towards his apartment. 

Remembering all the crosses and weapons he has stashed in there, you're not too keen to go, in case he's decided letting you live your undead life was an oversight. 

You wrinkle your nose like you’ve smelled something bad. "You can come talk to me in here," you counter, nodding towards your own space. 

He smirks at you, as though he knows very well the cause for your caution. “Sure,” he agrees, cocky as ever. John Constantine isn’t afraid to walk unarmed into the lair of a baby vamp like you.

You unlock your door again, ushering him in with a wave. As he steps inside you are struck again by how big he is in your tiny apartment. A wave of nostalgia hits you, for a night when you'd still been human, and he'd made you feel like you were the most desirable woman in the world.

Suddenly, your throat is tight.

Wow. Who knew you could still feel these things as a creature of the night? You’ve been so focused on your day to day, or night to night, as it were. You never really allowed yourself to process everything that had happened. You were too busy figuring out how the fuck to survive.

"Do you...want something to drink?" you ask, looking in your pantry. “Or perhaps can I interest you in some whole kernel corn?” Your perishable options have long gone by the wayside, but you still have alcohol, canned goods, and dry cereal. All together, not the most appetizing combination.

A snort of laughter escapes him at your attempt at humor, and he seats himself in one of your surviving kitchen chairs like he owns the place. "Sure. To the drink. Hold the vegetables."

You produce a bottle of Scotch that you may have bought with him in mind after your little tryst, and pour him a couple fingers.

"What about you?" he asks with a glitter of something in those obsidian dark eyes. Even with all your vampire senses, this man is still hard to read as a brick wall.  

You cant your head to look at him, curious what he’s about. That is when you realize... you smell desire. You hear the spike of his heartbeat, see the dilation of his pupils almost lost in the black of his irises. 

His only outward tell is the corner of his mouth curled up, but blood never lies.

You yourself would be a liar if you said you hadn't thought about the way he'd tasted that first night with a sharp longing. 

The sound of his pulse hammering in your ears makes you bold enough to ask, "Why, are you offering, John?"

He lifts one eyebrow nonchalantly, though the sound of his racing heart is sweet sweet music to your ears. 

"Maybe."

Cautious as a cat, you dare approach, a finger sliding along the surface of the table as you regard him curiously. Cool as ever, he leans back in his chair, man-spreading as he looks up at you. You stand between his legs, looking down at him with a new confidence, armed with the knowledge of his blood rushing double-time through his veins. 

He certainly hadn’t sought you out before this. Not once in the past few months has he even tried to check on you. At least, as far as you know.

He tilts his head up, returning your gaze. It’s impressive, really, how little he manages to show on the outside, while you can sense the rising roil of something brewing within him. Lust, you tell yourself. Anything more…would be wishful thinking, on your part.

You really should know better by now, but you still can’t help but carry a torch for this man, stupid little vampire that you are.

“A little warning: I’ve heard some hot shot High Table vampire hunter is in town from New York. You should be careful where you go to hunt.”

Your own heart thumps in your chest. Just the once. You don’t have a regular heartbeat anymore, unless you’ve just fed on someone.

“You worried about me, John?”

“As far as I've heard, you're keeping your nose clean, but I thought you should know."

So he has been keeping track of you. 

"I’m not exactly feasting on the blood of newborn babes."

He winces a little at that, as though you have invoked some long-buried memory. You suppose you cannot fathom the horrors this man has seen in his time battling the Darkness.

"Who are you feasting on?"

"Mostly assholes who deserve a lot worse than what I give them."

It's his turn to tilt his head as he looks up at you, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s. "What does that mean?"

"Do you really want to know?" you ask, propping a hand on your hip. What you really want to do is insinuate yourself into this man’s lap, but some sense of self-preservation holds you back.

"It's why I asked."

"Ok.” You start to tick your recent exploits off on your fingers. “I saved a girl from getting mugged and maybe worse the other day while she was walking to her car at night. Before that, I snacked on a date raper who tried to drug my drink. Before that, I broke up a domestic dispute and made the piece of shit husband disappear. Before that—"

Both of John’s dark eyebrows shoot up.

"Ok, Miss Vigilante Vamp. I get the picture." There's a gleam in his eye, and you almost think he might be proud of you? Or at least, amused. You should not care, of course, but his approval definitely tickles some long-buried little pleasure center in your brain. You always were a teacher’s pet type, for better or for worse. "You should be careful though. You could get hurt."

"By who?” you counter, knowing you sound cocky as hell. “This vampire hunter?” 

“I think you missed the part where I said he’s  High Table?”

“What does that mean?”

He gives you a look like you should know that, but you don’t know how or why you would.

“It means you don’t want to mess with him. I heard he’s here for the Master, but you don’t want to attract his attention.”

“The Master?” You are so confused.

Seemingly exasperated, he lifts his eyebrow at you. It kind of starts to piss you off. “I don’t know any other vampires, John.” And he certainly made no efforts before now to fill you in. 

“Look, just be careful, ok? Just because you’re a vampire now doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

It’s almost touching, that he’s worried about you. It would be, at least, if it didn’t sound so fucking much like mansplaining.

“A girl’s gotta eat, John.”

“Well…you coulda asked.”

You narrow your eyes down at him, knowing they flash a molten orange with your annoyance. The thing he said when you’d first woken as a vampire echoes in your mind, the way it has every night since. I guess they thought you meant something to me.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I told you I’d help you. You kinda disappeared on me after that.”  

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Thinking some distance might be a good thing after all, you turn to go, just to have his long fingers wrap around your wrist. “Wait—” 

You try to pull away, and he doesn’t let go, so you jerk him out of the chair like he’s a ragdoll. You find yourself in a pile on the floor with John Constantine’s solid weight half on top of you—not a horrible arrangement, truth be told, but the context is less than ideal.

“Jesus. Easy there, tiger.”

The fact that this man has the gall to needle you, after everything that has happened, suddenly fills you with white-hot heat, like gasoline on a fire. You’ve been bottling it up for months, just shoving it down so you can do what you have to do, but now everything bubbles to the surface with a vengeance. Suddenly, you are sitting on him, a clawed finger pointing into his chest. “You asshole. I got turned into this thing that I am because of you, because I was stupid enough to care about you, but I was supposed to be the one knocking on your door for a handout? I bet you would have just loved it, if I came crawling back to you for another taste.”

It’s just so fucking unfair.

That you can still feel so much for this man, and maybe he desires you back, but outside of that there’s just nothing. You’re sure of it. It shouldn’t matter to you anymore but it does and it hurts. Jesus fucking Christ it hurts.

You feel too much.

You’ve always felt too much, as a human, and now as a monster, apparently, and it sucks. You feel the sting of tears filling your eyes, and you know they look like blood to him and it’s just so gross you could scream.

“Tell me how to do it,” you hiss through the aching lump in your throat. “How do I feel nothing like you, because I’m so tired of this.”

Constantine’s frown is utterly thunderous below you. You guess it’s a real buzz kill, when people—monsters—emote all over you. He says nothing, just glares back up at you, breathing heavily through his nose.

Only later will it occur to you what a miracle it was, that he didn’t go for his cross, or a holy gun, or gold knuckles, with a spitting mad vampire perched on top of him. He really does have nerves of steel.

Only when you notice a small dot of blood blooming on his white shirt beneath your razor-sharp fingernail you let up, clenching your clawed fists at your sides.  

“Sorry,” you half-snarl, closing your eyes against everything. But now the scent of blood is in the air. His blood, and it is just as intoxicating as you remember from before, and a powerful, prickling heat rises within you, spreading out to him too. Every hair on his body lifts, and you wonder if he reacts to you this way because of his psychic abilities, or if…it’s just the chemistry between you. Some of the tension in his frame softens—other parts of him decidedly do not.

“My life is dangerous, y/n. What happened to you is exactly the reason I don’t have many friends.”

Or lovers, hangs unsaid in the air.

“Yeah. Well…too late for me, I guess. What’s the worst that can happen now?”

“You never want to challenge God like that. Believe me.”

“Why do you sound so certain it’s God who makes bad things happen?”

He snorts derisively. “Because as far as I can tell, he’s an even bigger asshole than I am.”

You look away, feeling guilty all of a sudden. “I’m sorry I called you that.”

Surprisingly he turns your gaze back to him with a finger on your chin. “It’s ok. The shoe fits.”

You get the sense that this is his way of apologizing…maybe, and the last of your anger leaks from your body. You nod, and close your eyes, and one of those bloody tears escapes to make its way down the curve of your cheek. No one is more surprised than you, when he reaches up to wipe it away.

“For what it’s worth…you’re not bad, for a vampire.” Coming from him, that’s quite the declaration. Again, you’re not proud of what it does to you, to receive praise from this man who usually keeps so aloof. 

You dare to open your eyes, your vision sharpening upon him, your vampire senses keen to detect a lie. You can tell he’s a little excited beneath his cool façade, but it doesn’t feel like he’s lying to you. That has a certain smell. A pheromone maybe, or a stink of fear of getting caught.

“Yeah?”

He sits up, so that you are cradled on his lap, nearly nose to nose, and you can’t help but be painfully aware, groin to groin. He’s so tall, and broad, and you still want to climb him like a tree. Another wave of that titillating energy rises in you, a mix of hunger and desire. You know he feels it too. You can tell by the way his eyelids half-close, his grip tightening momentarily on your thighs.

It’s not a horrible development, truth be told.  

“Yeah.”

“Even though I scare you?”

“Let’s go with…yes and no, on that,” he answers with a quirk of the side of his mouth.

“Hmm. You know, it’s hard to lie to a vampire?”

“Can’t say I usually spend much time conversing.” He cups your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair—and you’re not sure you really want to converse anymore either. “I was giving you space—guess I should have kicked down your door.”

“You could have just…knocked,” you tell him with narrowed eyes, smiling in spite of yourself. You feel your teeth pressing into your lips—and you shut your mouth again.

“I know they’re there,” he teases you, surprisingly gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. “You don’t have to hide them.”

You close your eyes again, sighing. “I just…feel like such a monster.” 

Again his long fingers slide through your hair, like he’s petting you. It does things to you, to be stroked like a favored pet by this man. 

“You’re not a monster.” You clench your fists, so moved to hear him say it. And as you do, you can feel your claws biting into your palms. You lift your hands so he can see them. 

“No?”

He examines them, seemingly nonplussed. You guess he’s seen bigger and sharper. “No,” he asserts again. 

Your eyes flick down to the little bloodstain upon his nice white shirt. “I made you bleed.” 

“I probably deserved it,” he excuses with that smirk that pulls at your undead heartstrings. “Keep going like you are, you might get to Heaven before I do.”

“John…” you sigh, a wave of emotion sweeping through you that you can’t even name. “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

“Me? Nice?” Again, that barely discernible purse of lips, the suppression of a smile that would give him away. 

You find yourself staring at his mouth, before forcing your eyes up to meet his once again. You don’t do it on purpose, but the power of your hunger fills you like a cup, spilling over into him where your bodies touch. This time he gives in to that tingling wave of treacherous pleasure, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him without a fight. Longing throbs in your loins, and hunger in your belly. They really feel one and the same, in this man’s arms.

“You’re…getting good at that,” he tells you, his voice low and gravely with desire.

“It just…happens, with you,” you’re almost reluctant to admit.

He smirks, the way you just knew he would, the smug bastard. “Just with me, huh?”

You roll your eyes to the ceiling. This man.

His low chuckle should not inspire such a thrill inside you. His strong arm looped around your waist, pulling you harder against him, does not help either.

Your claws have retracted again, and you run your hand up the flat of his chest, fingering the starched collar of his white shirt. You are gratified to receive a shuddering sigh as your touch moves higher, caressing the jumping pulse in his neck longingly.

“Bar’s open,” he offers.

It’s your turn to sigh, and you go about undoing his tie, carefully loosening the knot, resisting the urge to tear it off of him. You’ve learned a little bit more about how to control your hunger now, but it’s all still so new. You wonder if you can use it to make this, whatever this is, last longer than the frenzied chaotic rush it was last time.

“Did you miss me, John?”

He doesn’t answer you, just makes a sound low in his throat and leans in to kiss you instead, and with his soft mouth on yours you are content to let it go for now.

Maybe if you read between the lines, it’s answer enough anyway.

It’s a little funny, that the two of you never really make it up off the floor. Wrapped up in the wonderful, heady power that is your hunger, amplified by mutual desire, you are content to shed clothing and trade appreciative caresses there on the rug. You had not forgotten how beautiful this man is, the feeling of his warm muscled flesh beneath your questing hands, and yet still it somehow surprises you.

He makes a face as he pushes your jacket from your shoulders, tossing it unnecessarily far across the room. “You don’t like it?” you tease breathily.

“It doesn’t suit you,” he admits, and goes for your dress next, pulling it up over your head. He stares down at the skin he bared, your lacy push-up bra. He’s kinder to the dress, but maybe just because he’s distracted, ducking to kiss the soft mounds of your breasts.

The glitter in his dark eyes as you extricate his belt from between your pressed bodies should be illegal, it’s so intoxicating. With a hand on his bare chest you press him down to lay back on the floor. He does not fight you, looking up at you with that signature smirk that makes your blood boil. Rolling your hips against his straining erection between you wipes some of the smug off his expression, replacing it with a raw need.

With careful fingers you unbutton his pants and extricate him into the palm of your hand, his velvety length almost searing hot against your cool grip. Your undead body hungers for the warmth of his life, absorbing it anywhere you touch. His nerve falters a little, as he watches your fanged mouth descend towards his swollen manhood, his eyes widening just a bit. It’s your turn to smirk up at him.

“I haven’t tried this yet, John. I’d be very still, if I were you.”

He doesn’t tell you to stop, and the sound he makes as you descend on his hard cock with your silken tongue isn’t pain. In fact, it’s extremely gratifying. You are careful, and as you work him up and down with your mouth he trembles with the effort not to move beneath you. When his fingers tangle in your hair you moan against him, winning a twitch of his hips that would have made you smile, had your mouth not been so very full. You withdraw with a pop that makes him growl with pleasure beneath you. “Fuck, y/n...”

He tries to sit up to reach for you, but you pin him down again with one hand, tilting your head with a playful look down on him. The heated frustration in his narrowed eyes is rather priceless. Maybe you’ll pay for this later, but the predator’s instinct in you is enjoying this immensely.

Too impatient to take them off, you pull your panties to the side to sink onto his beautiful cock, his thick head pushing past your entrance rocking your head back with ecstasy. “John…” you sigh, moving your hips up and down, until he’s seated fully inside you, bottoming out against your cervix. It doesn’t hurt, like it once did. You are learning all kinds of things about your new vampire body.

“I would have returned the favor,” he rasps, his head rocking back hard into the floor as you carefully squeeze him inside you, conscientious of your new strength. It wins you a gratifying moan, his eyes drifting closed.

“Next time,” you answer cheekily. If he can’t admit that he missed you—then you’ll be damned if you say it first, even if it is the truth.  

You look down, fascinated by the sight of his big hands on your thighs, his strong fingers pressing into your flesh. The whip-cord muscles of his forearms draws your eyes, to the curve of his bicep and the sweep of his collarbone—your attention fixes on the jumping vein in his neck like a laser. 

You lean down to lick his pulse and he tilts his head, baring his neck for you. You know that part of it is him riding the power that crackles between you, but another part–it feels like a gesture of trust, and somehow that warms your undead heart. The razor-sharp tips of your fangs brush his pulse, winning you a sigh. “Do it,” he moans, surging inside you, lifting you with his hips. It’s all too much to resist, and with trembling caution you slide your fingers into his hair, and press your teeth into his pale skin.

The resulting rush of blood filing your mouth is intoxicating–by the sounds he makes, not just for you. The rush of pleasure across your tongue and in your loins is like nothing you’ve ever felt before, an exhilarating bliss that spreads warmth through every nerve across your skin.  

You’ve always thought of lovemaking as some kind of small miracle–a gift the laughing gods bestowed upon you poor mortals to make all the drudgery of life somehow bearable. A scientist might argue it is a trick of hormones and synapses played by nature, to encourage the endless march of procreation. You wonder what Constantine thinks about it, this man who so clearly believes in The Almighty God, but also seems to find the deity an insufferable asshat. 

A less than charitable philosopher might argue this beguiling euphoria is just the lure a vampire could use to secure a good meal–but like this, with this man–you cannot help but think it’s more. Whatever ancient magic that animates you, and maybe his own powers mingled too, it grants you this boon in what could be a life of infinite nights of lonely darkness, this undeniable connection with a special human whose lifeblood nourishes you. 

You are not even sure what to call the pinnacle of this pure shining ecstasy you share–orgasm seems too paltry a word. Pleasure, pale by comparison. John insists you are no creature of God, but you cannot help but reason that what you share together is nothing less than divine rapture.

The challenge is when to stop. 

For as long as you pull draught after draught of his delectable hot blood into your mouth, this bliss goes on and on. 

He starts to fade beneath you, his heart slowing. You could drain him dry like this, and maybe not care until the moment you realized he was dead in your arms. This is the thing that throws you back from your latchpoint upon his neck, woozy from the delight of it all, yet scared that you may have hurt him. 

He too seems drunk beneath you, looking up at you through hooded dark eyes. “Why’d you stop?” he asks dreamily. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen this man. You touch his cheek; you are not sure if the coolness of his skin is due to blood loss, or the fact that you feel almost feverish at the moment, riding the high of the blood magic you invoked with him. 

If you hurt him you are walking out into the sunlight, you promise yourself with panic. 

“I’m afraid I took too much,” you admit, wide-eyed. 

Of course, he scoffs at the very idea. “I’m fine. C’mere.” He pulls you down on top of him, to snuggle, you presume. The wonders of this evening do not cease. It is lovely, to curl up in his arms, your thighs slick with the excess of his seed. But as he dozes, you are wide awake, the world come even more alive around you. A potent meal, the magician makes. You feel as though you can sense the whole city in your head. The comings and goings of all the people, and all the creatures, and the planes and trains and cars. 

What a marvel, is this modern age. 

You sift through them all as an amusement, catching snatches of thoughts and bits of conversations, eavesdropping on their lives. 

You realize that you have never been able to read John Constantine’s thoughts. You wonder if it’s because of his psychic abilities–or just a result of his abnormally hard head. 

As you make this little psychic tour around the inhabitants of L.A.--something senses you back. You feel it push against your mind, holding you at arm’s length. Something old, and seething. For a flash you see it–him. Definitely a him, tall and forbiddingly handsome, bearded and raven haired. His eyes flash molten orange–right before he strikes you. It is only a psychic blow but you feel it like a fist between the eyes. It makes your physical body jolt in John’s arms. This stirs him from his bliss-induced coma; the demon-hunting magician blinks and looks up at you, taking in your wild-eyed look, your fangs bared to some invisible threat. 

“You ok, baby vamp?” he grumbles, not too happy to be disturbed from his deep rest.

“Fine,” you answer, unsure if it’s true. “I think I need to get you something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” he grouses, closing his eyes again. “Tired.” 

“Would you like to lay down in the actual bed?” you ask, thinking he will regret this hard pallet tomorrow. 

“No.” Now you can tell he’s just being stubborn. You would like to stay and cuddle with him, but you really are afraid he needs to eat and drink. Fluids and iron rich foods, is what you googled for after-care of donating blood, a while ago.

Funny, until now, you hadn’t had occasion to use the knowledge. 

You dress and pop out to the 24 hour market, obtaining red meat and dark leafy vegetables. When you return John has reclaimed his boxers and stretched his long body out on the couch, his big feet hanging off the end. It’s ridiculously endearing, to see him so relaxed in your space like this. 

When you are nearly done preparing his stir fry dinner, he finally rises to a sitting position, scrubbing at his face with his hands. 

It’s silly, how much it pleases you, when he wraps his arms around you from behind at the stove, his chin resting on your head.  “A vampire who cooks. This is one for the record books.”

“It’s not like I’ve forgotten how,” you fire back over your shoulder, amused. “It just…doesn’t really smell like food to me anymore.” The bloody bits of raw steak had seemed more appetizing than the ingredients in their current form.  

“Hmm. Smells good to me.” You thought he’d come round to food. “This does too though,” he teases, kissing your neck with a playfulness that leaves you dumbfounded. When he nibbles you can’t help but squirm, laughing out loud. 

“John!”

He must still be power drunk from earlier. He’d barely touched his glass of Scotch.

You feel his body shake with mirth behind you, more than hear it out loud. Then he stills against you, resting his chin on you again while you stir the meat and vegetables, the rice steaming on the back burner. You know it won’t last past tonight, but the scene is so damn near domestic it makes your heart ache. 

“What did I feel, earlier?” he asks. “Like, a gust of air in here. Did I dream it?”

You honestly aren’t sure how to answer that. It’s not that he wouldn’t believe you. You just…don’t have the language–and you don’t want to worry him. 

“I don’t know, I was half asleep,” you say, so smooth in your white lie, craning your neck back for a kiss. “Sit down. It’s your turn to eat.” 

As you bring John his plate of food your attention is drawn to the window, by what you’re not really sure. Nothing is there, you see nothing, you feel nothing present–and yet…you cannot shake the sensation that you are being watched. 

Almost as though to assure yourself, you reach out to brush an unruly dark lock of John’s hair behind his ear. He looks up at you with a lazy, almost boyish smile. It squeezes your heart. “Thanks.” You’re pretty sure he means for the food, but maybe…the rest too. 

You smile, and you know it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. He seems to sense something is up, but maybe he doesn’t want to wreck the moment yet either. He catches your hand, kissing the back of it, before picking up his fork and tucking in. 

Again, you look to the window, and the mean city beyond it, and wonder how many malevolent things out there could mean the two of you ill.  You don’t think you have too many enemies of your own yet–but in John’s case? 

The number could be infinite.

[a-998h]

Hotel Day 1

It has been a week since I showed up, bleeding, on the doorstep of the hotel. It's been nice. Charlie is super friendly, if a little hig energy, and so has Vaggie. Niffy freaks me out, but Charlie says she's 80% harmless. Alastor still creeps the fuck outta me, but I'm not sure he can be anything other than creepy.

Waking up, I see a post it on the bedside table. The note was clearly written with a glitter ink pen. Next to the note is also a plate of food and a glass of somekind of juice. Rubbing the last bit of sleep from my eyes, I read the note.

Good morning, Y/N! I figured you'd want to sleep in, so I had Niffty leave your breakfast on the bedside table. It's chocolate chip pancakes! Anyway, once you're awake and ready, you can meet us downstairs for today's activities! See you soon, Charlie 💙 Ps. Husk has juice for you at the bar.

Well... How the fuck did Niffty get through a locked door? I stare at the delicious looking pancakes, Niffty is a creepy woman and I have no idea what she might have done to my food. After about 15 minutes of checking my food for any sign of tampering I decide to suck it up and eat. The pancakes are as delicious as they looked. I smell the jucie too, because even if the pancakes were fine, who knows what Niffty could've done to it. It smells fine, looks fresh, and there is no weird coloring. Drinking it, it tastes like normal cherry juice. When I'm done, I collect the plate, glass, and utensils. Walking down the stairs, I see Vaggie and Charlie looking at the TV with Alastor standing next to it. Angel is on the other couch holding a bottle of alcohol and Husk is still behind the bar. Niffty rushes out from behind the bar and takes my dishes. It was confusing seeing how fast someone so small could be.

Charlie waves me over, saying she has something she wants me to see. I look for a chair, but Charlie pulls me onto the couch between her and Vaggie. Being squshed between the two of them freaks me out, I hate having my personal space invaded and invading someone elses space. The next minute is spent watching something that looks like a lose approximation of a commercial. It makes me want to die on the inside, it looks stupid. Alastor asks us what we think.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?" Vaggie yells.

Vaggie tells Alastor why his "commercial" is bad and how it doesn't explian that the how tell is trying to save people from extermination, whatever that means. Angel raised his hand, saying they could use him in the commercial as he's celebrity. Vaggie argues with Angel about him being a pornstar. As they argue, I start to ferl very uncomfortable. Charlie rejects Angel's offer, and Angel starts listing everything he can do. Walking over to the bar, I hang out with Husk.

"So... What's extermination?" I ask.

Husk's POV

Damn it kid, why did you have to ask me that. I look at Vaggie, she gives me a death glare. Taking a deep breath, I tell the kid to not worry about it. I normally tell it how it is, but this kid is innocent. This kid would be traumatized if I told them what extermination was, plus I don't think Charlie and Vaggie would be to happy with me if I told the kid.

"Ummm, you don't need to worry about it kid. But, maybe ask Vaggie," I tell them.

The kid seems disappointed, but this is what's best for them. Before the kid can stand up, Charlie comes by singing.

*One song later*

Reader's POV

Vaggie says that Charlie is doing something important, so we'll be making a new commercial. She asks Alastor for a camera, to which he makes her an old fashioned camera. Vaggie clarifies she needs a video camera, to which he hums in either annoyance or because he's being a teasing jerk. I watch from the side lines as Vaggie tries to flim Husk and Angel's part. I want to die on the inside with the way Angel is acting. Vaggie tells Angel to be less horny, I don't think it's possible, and for Husk to not have a script in front of his face. Husk says something about no being an actor and Angel flirtly teases him, to which Husk pushes Angel off the bar.

"Alright Reader, all you have to do is list some of the fun activites we do here," Vaggie tells me.

I nod, and Vaggie starts fliming. I start listing activies, but I start to panic and ramble. Vaggie turns the camera off, and asks if I'm ok. Nodding, I run back to the bar and have Husk pour me some juice. Vaggie moves onto the fliming Niffty, who doesn't even say her lines, only staring into the camera. Angel teases Vaggie, which makes her mad. She says she'll fix it in post before storming off. I ask Husk about how Hell works, and he gives me vauge answers. Asking Angel and Niffty leads me to learning a few things. Sinners can own other sinners souls, the extermination happens every year, and as long as I stay inside during extermination then I'll be safe.

I blink surprise. I stare into my glass of juice, scared and confused. I don't want my soul taken, and this extermination thing is yearly! I always figured that Hell was burtal, but this is a lot worse than I thought. Time passes, and I start to feel more and more scared. Niffty tries her best to comfort me, but it's Niffty so she makes me panic a bit more. Vaggie soon walks out with Alastor, saying he'll be helping us make a proper commercial. Alastor snaps his fingers and everyone else gets cool 1920s themed outfits while my clothes stay the same.

"Alastor, why are my clothes still the same?"

"My dear, you're not going to be in it," Alastor explains in a condesening manner.

I was upset and angry at being condesended. I ask him why I can't be in it and he says something about not wanting the commercial to full of people. I sit on the couch, watching as this shadow flim crew takes care of doing the commercial.

*One Commercial fliming later*

Once the commercial is flimed, Alastor leaves the hotel, saying he'll get this commercial aired. I wave goodbye, still disappointed. Vaggie asks what's wrong and I share my anger at not being allowed in the commercial and the condesending way Alastor spoke to me. Vaggie reassures me that Alastor is a just a bit of jerk and that, she is worried about having a child in the commercial. I point out how Niffty looks young, and Alastor reminds me that many sinners know who Niffty is and her connection to him. Vaggie tells me it's ok, and that she'll find another way for me to be involved in the hotel.

Charlie comes back, looking a bit worried. Vaggie greets her and leads her to the couch in front of the TV. I sit next to Angel as Charlie smiles and almost tears up at the fact that the group made a new commercial for the Hotel. The commercial barely starts before it's interrupted. We all growl and complain about it. The lady with souless red eyes and blonde hair on the screen says that the news station had just been told by the Heaven embassy, which was the base of the hourglass clocktower, that the extermination would be happening sooner. The screen shows the clocktower calender showing 176 days. This causes all of us to start freaking out.

Narrator's POV

The angel's ship scans the headless body of an exterminator angel. Inside, Lute gets angry as she tells Adam they should go down there right now and wipe every sinner off the face of existance. Adam tells her to calm down.

"We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry, when we com back there won't a demon left alive to pull a stunt like this again! And, the nephilim kid will be back where they belong!" Adam declares, smash the lamp in the ship.

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

First day

Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife

Alex Vause x reader

!!TW: mention of murder and vague drug mention!!

Work count:: 1.2k (not proof read)

Alex POV: (Alex and Piper aren't together in this)

I walked into the cafeteria and joined the que to get lunch, another day of sloppy something, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Yum, I can't complain though because it's better than nothing and if I do complain Red will starve me out. Brushing off hat thought, I get my food and saunter over to a table with some of my friends on it, Morello, Chapman and Nicky.  I take a seat and listen in on their conversation. 

Nicky - "No c'mon, she's hot."

Piper - "I agree, I mean have you seen her. The eyes, hair the hair!" dragging out the r sound at the end as if to make a point.

Alex - "Who you talking about?"

Nicky - "That new girl that showed up in the van this morning, she's very good lookin' although she's been crying in the bathroom since she got here so maybe not the most stable girl in here."

Morello - "There's worse trust me, and besides why are you all getting so worked up about this? Yeah she's nice to look at but what if she has someone outside of here? You know, like a boyfriend or girlfriend or someone, she might even be married for all you know?"

Nicky - "Yeah but you said it, she's nice to look at tuts, she's gunna be getting looks from all over. If she stops crying of course."

At this point my interest was piqued and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about so once I'd sat, had a tal and eaten my food I was going to go find this mystery girl and find out if they're actually telling the truth.

Y/n POV:

I can't believe I actually did that. I killed her. I killed my own mother. I keep telling myself it was the only way out but everytime I think about it the guilt and self resentment creeps back in. My mum had munchausen by proxy and she made me believe I was sick and could walk or do practically anything by myself. I really didn't see any other way out so, one night I just did it. Obviously I feel terrible and wish I'd never done it but, there really was no other way out. Anyway, it's done now and I'm in jail, thankfully not maximum security because people could see my side of the story and saw I wasn't just a cold-blooded killer. 

I've been at Litchfield a little over 5 hours now and as soon as I was allowed to go off and do my thing, I went straight for the bathroom and I've been crying ever since. Somehow, I managed to get the only stall with a door so thankfully people can't just watch me cry, hear me yes but watch, no.

All day people have been staring and I don't know why. Maybe they think I'm fucked up for what I did or something. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a soft knock on the door. 

Alex - "Hey, you okay in there? Stupid question I know because well, you're crying but I still feel like I have to ask."

I bite my lip and sigh before responding, I didn't expect anyone to actually care.

Y/n -  "Uhm- yeah, I guess I'm okay. Not my ideal situation but you know, life goes on."

Alex - "Yeah well you got that one right."

After that a not awkward but not totally comfortable silence fell over us. I slowly stood up and unlocked the door. I stepped out and tried to dry my face from the copious amount of tears I'd shead in the past hours of being here. Instantly this woman picked up on it and gently held my face in one hand and helped me wipe my tears with the other.

Alex - "You'll be okay, I'm going to be brutally honest with you, the first few days are actual hell, you'll miss everything and everyone but, I'll be here is you ever want to talk about it okay? Oh, and I'm Alex by the way, but everyone calls me Vause, it's my last name." 

I smiled at Alex and nodded my head a small thank you leaving my lips. She pulled me into her embrace and held me tight. 

Alex - "You know, they were right."

I was confused because I had not a single idea what she was going on about. So, I pulled my head slightly away from her shoulder and looked at her.

Y/n - "What do you mean? Who's right?"

Alex - "Oh just my friends, they said some stiff about how you were really good looking and what not."

You felt a blush creep across my face as you looked into her gorgeous green eyes only now just realising after looking a her properly just how beautiful she really was. A sly smirk found it's way onto her lips before she spoke again. 

Alex - "Hey, don't get all shy on me now."

A she said that her hand found it's way to my waist as she pulled me closer again. Whilst she trailed her other hand up my body and hooked a finger around my chin so I'd look her in the eyes.

Y/n - "You really mean it?"

Alex - "Of course I do, I mean I've known you what, like 2 minutes and I'm already calling you beautiful I think that speaks for itself ." 

I giggle a bit and looked down in an attempt to hide my flustered face yet again, knowing she was right. I looked her in the eyes again only to see her eyes had never left me and she had a wide smile of her face. 

Alex POV:

I looked down slightly because I was a bit taller than her and just marvelled at this gorgeous girl in front of me she had glowing y/h/c hair and shining y/e/c eyes, her smile could light up a room and her laugh was so fucking adorable. Normally, I'm not the one to fall over small stuff like this but she was different,  I don't know why, she just was.

She looked me back in the eyes and I couldn't help myself anymore, I leaned in and captured her lips in mine. They fit together like puzzle pieces. Her hand found their way into my hair while mine rested on the small of her back keeping her safe in my arms. I swiped my tongue over her bottom lip asking for entrance and she happily agreed. She tugged on my hair a little so in return I grazed my teeth over her bottom lip and she let out a small breathy moan which was almost silent but, I could still hear it. We broke away for ir and as soon as we separated we crashed our lips back together hungrily. She was almost as addictive as some of the things women in the jail used to do. 

Just as things were getting heated someone burts into the bathroom.

Healy - "INMATES NO LESBIAN ACTIVITY ALLOWED!"

We both untangled ourselves from each other and apologised. As he left I whispered in her ear. 

Y/n POV:

Alex - "He won't catch us tonight sweetheart don't worry. I'll have you all to myself, I'll make you feel better."

She then gave me a final eck on the lips and walked out the bathroom. Oh man, I was not going to get much sleep on my first night in prison.

[hepaidattention]

my chaotic obx4 part 1 thoughts.... without any order

OBX Spoilers!!!

JJ's name is Jackson............????????? WHATS HIS MIDDLE NAME

jiara is everything. they are my everything. they literally are all we ever wanted. would never complain for more kissing maybe, okay just slightly. like a kiss on the cheek even. but they are perfect. perfection.

ruthie. you don't even have to listen to jj's threats honey. because it's KIARA you should really be scared of. wrong pogue to make an enemy of.

protective jj makes me just.... ugh. he will do ANYTHING crazy and thoughtless and dangerous but if kiara wants to he's gonna be level headed and try to talk her out of it. he's a presh bean

absolutely love Kiara Carrera and absolutely hate her parents. wouldn't expect anything less from our girl, but the fact that her parents said "don't come back unless he's gone" and she said "okay bye then" and never looked back is just. I love her. I love jiara.

the writers really said "lets make jj's mom dead and oh yeah that asshole dad? not his real dad - raised him out of the goodness of his heart, then beat him. yeah but NO no no no noNO no sarah can't be his sister. the fans want that too bad."

the way kiara put up a pillow to make out with JJ (or more *wink*) in the chamber pod thingy *chefs kiss* and the way she and JJ had traded places, of course implying that there was definitely some rolling around going on in there *wink* best part imo (just woulda been better if we had seen them kiss but its fine IM FINE) I'm just a slut for some kiss scenes that's all. I honestly didn't even feel like their dynamic needs it. I just like to see that kissing content

I actually really love the dynamics this season. They have THREE couples in the main group and they've done amazing not making it feel like that, tbh. Though I did get frustrated because I COULD use a little more PDA sometimes, it also (especially for JJ and Kie) makes perfect sense for their characters. Plus, as friends first (and friends for so long), it's nice watching them get to slowly be more comfortable in showing affection beyond closed doors.

I know Rafe is crazy. really I do. but I really want him to become good. I love how this girl has seemed to help that, too. she's a pogue and he doesn't care - like he does but he loves her anyway and it's helped him realize why Sarah did what she did. being a pogue doesn't really change who you are. He also has shown remorse for hating on pogues, like the whole beach scene. I saw someone say they didn't understand the point but I think the point was to show us Rafe and his gf (forgot her name I'm so sorry girly), and show how mad she became, and for Rafe to realize maybe this whole pogue vs kook thing was STUPID and hurtful. It also seems to have to do with Topper development but I kind hate Topper so I don't care about him lolll

still not over the jiara kiss. THEY"VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR ALMOST 2 FUCKING YEARS.

JJ. Babe. I love you. But you have dated that girl for 2 years and have not taken her out on a date???? I know, I get it, you've been very busy building a life. BUT HONEY. tsk tsk. Treat her right, sir.

Absolutely love how soft he gets towards her.

Pope: scolding

JJ: I KNOW MAN I DON'T NEED TO HEAR THIS ALRIGHT??? I DID WHAT I DID AND I DIDN'T DO NOTHING WRONG

JB: argues

JJ: IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT ACTUALLY

Kie: scolds

JJ: you're right baby I'm so sorry I'm just trying to help

the pogues being pogues. this season feels very fanfic in the best ways. like we actually got all of them living together in one house???? all just being best buds and loving one another platonically (and romantically)???? and I'm just. I love it. it's what we all asked for and it was worth the wait (tho the wait has been very very long)

it's the way Sarah and JB put up a seashell to let them know they're busy *wink* and Kiara almost walks in and says it's getting excessive IMPLYING that Sarah and Kie are roommates. which that makes me cackle because now I think JJ and JB are roommates and Kie and Sarah are roommates but JB stays in Sarah's room so much that Kie basically lives in JB and JJs room

cannot get over how solid jiara is. they're just... they're just right. they fit. and now that they've been together for 2 years working crap out, there's no silly early dating drama. it's just JJ being JJ, or Kie being Kie, and they both know each other so well they know there's not a reason to even argue. like JJ didn't even fight Kie on diving because he knew he couldn't fight her. she's too stubborn. just like Kie knows there's no need in getting mad at JJ when he does something wreckless because he does something like all the time. she knows talking to him calmly is the only way to even reach him anyway.

JJ: does something stupid

Sarah: "your bf's doing something stupid again"

Kie: "I know this and I love him."

cannot wait to see how they all get back together, or how Kie and JJ reunite, or how Kie will react to the news, or Rafe will help with this adventure, and how JJ will meet his dad (even though I wish it was Shoupe and not the random evil dude).

Also. They WOULD give JJ a death curse. SMH.

[marchiveeee]

HSL episode 12 is so unhinged/chaotic (?) [a long post with many screenshots yayyy]

As you guys might know, we can get up to 6 illustrations on episode 12, so A LOT happens. Some of those things are very laughable, but others are not so much... I'll talk about everything in order of occurrence.

!!!: I'm sorry if "unhinged" or "chaotic" is not the right word for what I'm trying to say. although I'm confident enough in English, it's still not my 1st language. btw, i tried to post this 3 times and something always goes wrong, I'm stressed, so I'll be really happy with an interaction

btw again, if you're brazilian and would like to see this in Portuguese on Twitter or here, please let me know!!!

Mrs. Shermansky being toxic af and the exact opposite of how a good educator should act [in my opinion]

So... I get that she was worried about Candy and Castiel getting lost. But if you really think telling a teenager that the only thing they have ever done is to cause trouble is a good way to advert/encourage them to do the right thing next time is the best approach, please rethink your ways.

2. Mr. Faraize being a sweetheart, he is such a nice teacher

I'm not saying that to be a nice teacher you have to sugarcoat everything all the time and just not scold your students at all. But Mr. Faraize was so nice about it all, he just seemed happy/relieved to know his students were well and safe.

Side [angry] comment about episode 11: Bro, that race was so unorganized!!!! The least the school should have done was provide extra maps in case of accidents like the one that happened with Candy and the LI. Mr. Faraize was wrong too, he shouldn't have let Candy and the LI [in my case, Castiel] proceed after hearing that we had been fkn lost bc we lost the map and we were just wandering until we found the right track. UGH... If that happened irl with my little brother or idk any kid that happens to be in my life, I'd be so furious... ANYWAYS!

3. Born to be a star

He is loving the attention!

4. Violet, as always, being the most precious being in that school. [I'm sorry about the screenshot I used, I forgot to take others]

She's just so sweet and adorable, I want to hug her. YOU'RE NOT DUMB, BABYYYY.

4. Armin's reaction to Alexy's secret admirer

before the declaration:

after the declaration:

Honestly, I was just so happy to see that Armin didn't out his brother when he heard that a girl was interested on him. I didn't remember the details of this scene bc I was probably 12 y/o when i first played it.

5. Candy being paranoid that half of the boys at SA will turn out to be gay/not straight

This girl cracks me up istg... and why the fuck

she was just so worried to ask Castiel bc she thought he would get angry. Girl, we don't do fragile masculinity here.

6. Candy goes completely sidetracked on her CasLys fanfic just to check Lys's tattoo and witnessing one of the biggest bombs of MCL

I didn't get many screenshots from this part, because it's just sad when you know what it's all about in the end... but yeah instead of spying on Lys, Candy ends up seeing Nath's bruised body and is also caught by him.

Someone has probably done this already idrk, but I'm gathering some screenshots of moments that foreshadowed that something was just not right at Nath's and Amber's house... It'll probably take a while for me to post, but I'll try.

7. Nath being for real

He was so right for calling her dumb!!!! I think I was ranting about this on Twitter recently when I replayed the beach episode…

8. Lys’s reaction to the whole story [an icon]

I regret not taking screenshots sooner, but I was just too distracted laughing my ass off! There literally was about 2/3 scenes of just: 

Lys: 🤨[...] Candy: [Doesn’t know what to say/says something stupid] Lys: 🤨[...] Candy: [Doesn’t know what to say/says something stupid

Again, she doesn’t say anything [to get the image you need to go for this choice]

And then he shoes you his tattoo! Bro, he was SO COOL about it! If Candy had just asked nicely… But no, she has to complicate everything omg istg 

I still laughed a lot tho, I think at some point in this episode Cas said that this trait of Candy and her need to know and talk about everything is what makes her fun. I agree with him. She is annoying sometimes but definitely entertaining for the gossipers.

9. May the fanfic continue

Insert some dialogues here: Basically Cas sees Candy near them listening to their conversation and he asks what’s up. Candy approaches them and is like “uhhh…. Are you……….?” Then Castiel says:

For my mind’s sake let’s just imagine that the “offended” was not for “I’m offended you thought I was gay”, but for “I’m offended that you thought I’m dating Castiel when he’s not on my level of gentlemanliness and when I deserve so much more than this grumpy angsty tomato head” (don’t get me wrong, I love Castiel and I’d die for him, but it’s either that or think of a homophobic Lys, which I don’t think it’s the case for him)

10. Castiel shoots his 29482904 shot with Candy, but she’s stupid

Actually, one thing that I like about this scene is that it leaves open the interpretation of Castiel’s sexuality. Saying that he likes girls doesn’t necessarily mean that he is straight. I love to see that. And disclaimer: if you prefer to think that Cas is, in fact, straight, go ahead. That’s not a problem. He is not a real person and we’re allowed to imagine and speculate things, so this is just a headcanon of mine that he might be bi/pan or just simply not straight.

11. Amber and Kentin kiss

That alone is just unhinged and chaotic. I don’t need to say much. 

BUT I’M SO GLAD HE IS BACK!!! He’s gonna be a little shit for a while, because I think my Candy lost some points with him bc of a wrong choice after he left, but that’s fine! I MISSED HIM!!!

----

I hope you had fun with this little throwback!

[imjustdreamingig]

Run Away

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were never a shy person, until it came to talking to the boy you liked.

A/N: Well, this is my first time writing something like this so... please be nice. I was kinda tired of only seeing shy!reader stuff so I decided to base this on my personality. So yeah, kind of based on a true story. What reader does in this story I've actually done in real life which is mortifying. Anyways!!! This is just edited by me so lmk how I can improve and if I should write a part 2??? Maybe?? Idk. Enjoy!

PS: Robin and Steve work together, nothing monstery has happened, they're all in the same grade. It's a bunch of dumb teenagers together battling high school.

Warnings: sfw, cursing, fluff? people being dumb?? idk what else tbh

You've never considered yourself to be a shy person. In fact, you were very much so extroverted, never finding qualms in chatting to your classmates or asking you're teacher questions in class that some may think are stupid. You didn't care.

Aside from being a little nervous back in elementary school, that trait had dissolved as you got older, and it definitely wasn't present at the moment during your senior year at Hawkins High.

However. As much as you liked to claim to be unbothered with public speaking and your ability to make friends easily, there was one thing that you couldn't just quite get over, no matter how hard you tried. And quite frankly, it was getting old and ridiculous.

"Fuck, Robin he's coming down the hall," you exclaimed, "move, move, move, move!"

You didn't bother checking if she was behind you, already knowing she would be as you practically ran to your second period class. It was the first day of the new semester anyways, you could use the excuse of wanting to get good seats to justify your cowardice to yourself later tonight.

"Jesus Christ," you heard Robin mutter as she finally caught up to you, "You know I have asthma, I cannot keep doing this every time you so much catch a glimpse of Steve."

You slowed down your pace, your heart not feeling as though it would burst out of your chest anymore. You still sported a slight flush on your face from the thought of the almost encounter you had with the jock.

"I know, I know, this is getting so stupid. I promise next time I'll talk to him, I swear," you said as you sighed forlornly.

Robin turned to you with an unimpressed stare. "That's what you said last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and yet here we are," she waved her hands dramatically.

Here's your problem. An issue that is a complete juxtaposition of your usual personality. The moment you've ever realized you have a crush on someone, you would run away from them anytime you saw them. Literally. You would full on sprint away in the opposite direction.

You've never really understood why this happens, only knowing that the second you saw your current crush, you're usual non existent nerves would make a prevalent appearance. You'd freeze and your eyes would widen as your brain chose the flight response when confronted with a potential dangerous situation.

"Look dingus, I love you and I think you're awesome and all that, blah blah blah, but this has got to stop," Robin stated as you both took your seats in your English class. "You're embarrassing me just as much as you're embarrassing yourself and our social status cannot take that much more of a beating."

You knew she was joking but just grunted in response, having buried your face in the crook of your elbow, not even bothering to open up your notebook. You heard Robin sigh and could tell she was rolling her eyes at you.

"You know..." Robin started, "I could always just...talk to him for you? Give him you're number or something during our shift at-"

Your raised your head immediately, almost giving yourself whiplash. "Robs, no way. We've talked about this before! I just - this situation is already awkward as it is, that would just make it worse."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help, but if you wanna suffer some more that's totally your choice." Robin says as she shrugs her shoulders. "Besides, with all that running your doing, at least you're getting some cardio in."

You let out as surprised squawk. "Robin come on! Not funny!" She doesn't reply, merely continuing to laugh at you. All you did was just groan in response again, settling your head in your arms once more.

A few weeks ago, you had been walking to your locker whilst attempting to shove a bunch of textbooks into your bag at the same time. Obviously, everything fell and it just so happened that Steve was nearby and helped you out.

"Oh my God, you don't have to, it's totally fine," you'd stammered, just the tiniest bit embarrassed of dropping your books in the middle of the crowded hallway.

"Don't sweat it, it happens to the best of us." Steve chuckled as he handed you your notebook.

And then it happened. The event that you frequently replay over and over in your mind, the event that kickstarted the affections you had for the boy.

Once everything was stored safely in your bag, Steve stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. He then turned his attention to you and simply offered you his hand to help you up.

You stared into his big, brown eyes, completely dumbfounded. Here he was, an average man doing the absolute bare minimum and yet you still found yourself practically falling at his feet, your heart feeling as thought it was going to beat out of your chest.

"I- uh, I mean, thanks for the hand Steve," you stammered as you tentatively took his hand and pulled yourself off the floor. You cringed when you felt that it was sort of shaking and kind of clammy, hoping Steve wouldn't notice. "Both literally and figuratively."

You wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow you up after you blurted out those words. To your surprise, Steve let out a laugh, a genuine laugh. His eyes sort of crinkled and you could see the slight indent of a dimple. As if the man needed to get any more attractive in your eyes.

"It's no problem at all," he reassured you. "I'll be seeing you." He gave a quick wave and then turned in the direction of the cafeteria. Your hands tightened on the straps of your backpack as you watched him walk away, admiring the view.

Oh ew, you suddenly thought to yourself, now that was just pathetic.

Ever since that moment, you couldn't give yourself that last push you needed to talk to him. Even after the multitude of pep talks you give yourself in the mirror, including the ones from Robin, you still always ran away whenever you saw him.

You'd be a fool to think he didn't notice it and prayed he didn't mistake it for you hating him or something.

The sound of the bell signaling the start of class pulled you from your misery, forcing you to pay attention to your teacher so you didn't face the consequences of falling behind so early in the term.

Amidst your groveling, you'd failed to notice a particular brunet enter the class and take a seat at a desk a few rows behind you. Who knows what your reaction would have been if you did. Robin just kept her mouth shut, simply winking in Steve's direction when she caught his eye.

"Alright class, settle down and listen up," your teacher began. "I know it's the first day of the semester, but I wanted to introduce an assignment before anything else to make sure you have enough time to complete it and do an excellent job."

The entire class let out a collective groan, yourself included. How could she already be giving out assignments when she hasn't even properly introduced herself?

You turned to Robin, brows furrowed in annoyance. "I think she's got her agenda mixed up, she's introducing things in the wrong order."

"Fuck this, I should've taken Eddie's warning more seriously. Now I understand why everyone hates her," Robin gripped, running a hand through her cropped hair, already looking a little stressed.

You nodded in agreement and added, "I think I get why people hate English so much too."

Robin laughed. "But you'll still love it anyways, won't you?" she chided. Before you had a chance to reply, your teacher began speaking again.

"Settle down, please! If you listen, you'd hear that this not due until the last month of the semester and you'll be working in partners," she stated, "so not only will you have plenty of time to work on it, but you'll also have some help." You and Robin glanced at each other, hopefully smiles tugging at both of your faces.

"Your partners will be assigned by me," the whole class collectively groaned again, "which is what I'll be doing as we get through attendance. I'll explain the criteria before moving on."

"Yep, I think I hate this class at least a little bit now," you complained to Robin, already making a mental checklist of what school stuff you should at least start on later in the afternoon.

"-ohn Gilmore, Phoebe Burton, partners. Steve Harrington, Y/N Y/L/N, partners. Billy Holden, Rob-"

You froze for a second, as if you were glitching. Steve was in... this class? There was no way, you would have absolutely noticed him. But as you snuck a glance behind you, sure enough there he was, sitting in his chair, mindlessly twirling a pencil through his fingers. To your surprise, he was actually looking back at you too and- wait hold up, was he smirking?

You immediately spun back around, hand lurching to grip onto the sides of your desk. You then blinked a couple of time, praying your face wasn't as red as you felt like it was.

"Nope, nope, absolutely not. No thank you," you said as you shook your head from side to side. "Miss, this is a joke right?" you inquired out loud.

You were eventually going to talk to Steve, you were sure of it. The day was coming where you could have some sort of a conversation with him without running away, you could feel it. The moment was almost here.

Today, however, was absolutely not that day.

Just when you were about to complain to you teacher out loud again, you feel a presence behind you.

"Oh come on, you're already dismissing me as a terrible English partner? I'm wounded, seriously." The voice was laced in amusement. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to.

Before you could even think of a response, Robin turns to you, clearly finding your horror to the situation hilarious, and says, "Well, I think you're going to hate this class a little bit too."

Well fuck.

[my-prompt-dump]

WIP for Soldier Boy x OC JPad character on The Boys that I made up based on this post

Jared's character will allude his Sam character and some demonic elements too. I think it'd be a nice touch too to name him Sam, Nick, or even Dean (both for spn and gilmore girls reference)

ANYWAY

For this WIPs sake, he's Sam Moore (very original). He's one of the scientists that is doing tests on Soldier Boy while he's stuck in that facility Homelander put him in.

At first, Soldier Boy hated the guy. Doing weird ass tests and poking him with shit he can't pronounce (don't get him started on the stupid electroshock BS that's "important to test your brainwaves" or whatever nerd speak). Seriously, this dude is so pretentious.

Sam is mostly cold to him but after a while, Soldier Boy got bored of being a douchebag and decided to just be an annoying asshole instead. With nothing else to entertain himself, he cracked jokes and yapped about everything until one day, he got a reaction out of Sam. The man rolled his eyes in exasperation from his latest creative joke of the week.

"Ha! So you do have a sense of humor!"

Sam doesn't remove his focus from writing down today's test results. "Never said I didn't."

"Admit it. You find me funny."

"Hilarious." Sam said sarcasticlly.

"By the way, Sammy. When's this thing gonna end? This shit is lasting longer than usual."

"Maybe if you shut the fuck up once in a while, we'd get done faster."

"I feel bad for the girl you're fuckin' if that's how you think."

Then one time Sam missed a schedule. His tests were performed by a girl too shy to be acting like a torture scientist. He asks the girl if Sam had a day off or something as nonchalantly as possible, to which the girl just said: "Sam is uh, indisposed! And he is not allowed to leave the premises, Mr. Soldier Boy sir."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"I uhm- I do not have the authority to share that with you. Sam will be back as soon as he can."

"But where is he?"

"Sam is still indis-"

"Yeah. Indisposed. Heard you the first time."

Soon turns out to be 2 days later. And Sam looks... like hell.

"The fuck happened to you?"

"Your stupid son did."

"Told you not to call him my son. He's more like a sperm that didn't get swallowed."

"Very eloquent."

"You're deflecting. What do you mean Walmart me did that to you?"

"What? You can't understand English now? Should I ask Katie what kind of new tests did she do?"

Soldier Boy likes the banter on a normal day but he's getting annoyed now. "You mean to tell me you went and got in a fight with Homelander and you aren't dead?"

"It was just.. a disagreement."

And that's when it hit Soldier Boy.

"You're a Supe." It wasn't a question but Sam's silence is all the answer he needed.

"Holy shit, you are."

"No. I'm not a Supe."

"Super speed? Strength?" Soldier Boy sees the wounds. "Healing."

"No. Not exactly."

And that was the end of the conversation. Sam refused to talk to him any further and he stopped the next time they saw each other because he can't take this silent treatment.

He's about to tear his hair out from curiosity, though. And he got some kind of answer on their nth schedule this month when Homelander decided he wants to sit in. Soldier Boy is not even trying to hide how he's ignoring the stupid fuck.

"How is he reacting to the new version of V?" Homelander decides to ask Sam.

"Nothing. Because I stopped it."

Homelander freezes and turns his deadly eyes on Sam. "What?"

"I said I stopped it. It wasn't giving productive results."

"And who said you could do that?"

"I did. When you people made me in charge of him."

"I specifically requested for that test. You answer to me!" Homelander is letting his anger explode now.

"I answer to no one. I'm the one doing the tests, I'll decide what to take."

Homelander is all up in Sam's face now. He's floating the the air to be even be eye level of Sam. Most fucks from the Seven would cower in even the slightest bit of anger from Homelander, but Sam barely flinches.

"I'm gonna-"

"Kill me? Do it. We both know I'm more valuable to Vought that you or any of the other Supes in the building right now."

"You will beg for death when I'm done with you."

"I'm not here to beg for anyone. I came here to tell you that I saw you."

"What?" Yeah what? Soldier Boy is lost.

"I saw you."

A realization dawned on Homelander's face but quickly put up his stoic mask again.

"Sometime this month, when a bus load of your fans show up, I'm going to be out there, on Vought's front lawn. And you're going to tuck your tail between your legs and run.

Homelander scoffs. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I don't think you're better than me, John." The lights of the lab began flickering. "I have the Devil's favor on my side. And you? You're just meat in spandex. And I'd love to see the whole world's reaction when I prove that to you."

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

A bit inspired by one quote of the Umbrella Academy. But essentially, Sam's ability is that he's still the actual Devil's vessel and got most of "Lucifer's" powers plus visions. He's also a bit immortal since Luci keeps bringing him back when he dies.

Next premise I'm thinking if Butcher and co. finding out that SB is held there and went to break him out. Found him, but was intercepted by Homelander. Sam stays behind to hold him off because he says that he can't leave the building anyway- he's tethered. The whole facility has a giant Devil's trap under it and that's how Sam's being kept there.

SB refuses to leave him behind but was assured it'll be okay by Sam. The building is slowly getting destroyed by Homelander's attacks.

SB and co. get out and Hughie or someone sees something from beneath the cracked floor. He yells for SB to punch the floor and when he did, the trap is broken.

There was silence and then a huge eldritch thing emerges from inside the building and devours it whole. People are screaming, running, evacuating.

They see Homelander fly out and zooms away into the distant sky.

The whole structure collapses and they see something on top off the rubble. For a moment, they saw a monster with wings and horns and snakes and blood, and next thing they saw Sam. Normal, lab coat wearing Sam.

Sam collapses from it. They gather him up and escape.

[fatuismooches]

HIII OH MY GOD im sorry for sending another one but i was just in the bathroom cleaning up and an idea fucking struck me. (yeah, bright ideas always hit me while i shower)

im thoroughly convinced that zandik, at some point, genuinely believed that you didn't love him. it was probably a year into your relationship after hitting on him for too long in the akademiya.

then, zandik got his hands on a book about manipulation tactics and shit, and he read a portion about pretending to be nice and loving just to gain something from him.

and hence him kicking you out and screaming profanities at you, saying that you don't truly love him. yeah, i know, brash decision by zandik. his older self truly regrets it and doesn't know what he would do in his life if you weren't persistent enough to keep reaching out to him. but to younger zandik, it just made sense.

how could someone like you could ever love him? he knows that sometimes you think he's going a bit too far with his experiments, you call him crazy (in an adoring way ofc), you sometimes look at him in fear as well. you have to be pretending, it just can't be. he has spent all his life unloved, outcasted, hated and feared- he can't comprehend such a wonderful thing such as love would ever be something he'd truly experience, deserve.

zandik stood his ground with his decision, glaring at the wall as you knock on the door repeatedly, asking what was wrong. then when he hears you curse under your breath, sounding mad, his heart fucking breaks.

and it just sinks in that he did something incredibly stupid and probably hurt your feelings for acting out. he's just so not used to being loved, and even if a year has passed, he still can't wrap his head around it.

really, you only got mad from the other side of the door is because your groupmates saw you and began walking towards you after you escaped to hang out with zandik...

dw you make up eventually if you're determined enough to prove that you genuinely love him!! (i mean cmon, it's not that hard. just point out that you literally cook him, wrestle him from his desk and onto his bed to sleep, go on illegal expeditions with him and all you wanted from him was kisses, hugs and affirmations of his love for you)

IM LITERALLY COMBUSTING FROM THIS BECAUSE IT'S LITERALLY SO TRUE AND I LOVEEE THE WAY YOU DESCRIBED IT,, WHY HAVE U DONE THIS TO ME.

I'm thoroughly convinced that as well, and from his perspective it makes sense considering he went his whole life without receiving any kind of genuine love (which he grew not to care about anyway) and any kind of sweet words directed at him would usually have some kind of ulterior motive or to get on his good side... He's a very cynical person and even after a while the whole situation just baffles him. Not to mention sometimes Zandik himself has trouble understanding that he truly loves someone else and that this isn't just one big lie... it's hard for him to process it all.

Ugh you just know he'll be researching relationships and shit just so he can justify thinking this way and then he gets to a portion to be wary of your partner possibly being fake and manipulating you. And then he just goes haywire on you and you're just like "wtf are you even talking about" and Zandik's literally just going off on you without letting you get in a word. (I bet the clones cringe whenever they remember this moment too 💀 just bring up this moment in an argument and dramatically walk away and he'll feel a bit bad which is more than he should be capable of)

Zandik tries his best to ignore your heartbroken and confused expression - surely you must be faking it, he thinks as he slams the door in your face. This just must be one of your games again, and now that you've been called out you don't know what to do, he tries to convince himself. Your frantic knocks were just a scheme to play with whatever heart he had left. Because in no world, no universe, would you ever love someone like him. He knows he shouldn't be considered human anymore, he's a monster, and surely you see that too. The one who had been with him for ages, the closest one to him. Zandik doesn't understand - you have nothing to gain from being with him. It was 99% an act. Yes, 99%, because he was secretly clinging onto the 1% chance it was real.

And the 1% chance beat all odds when he heard how genuinely pissed and upset you were from behind the door, which was both a fortunate and unfortunate thing - the former because he knew you really loved him, the latter because even he realized that he fucked up big time. But Archons Zandik, out of all possible times, you had to do this when it was the time you were trying to avoid your annoying classmates 😔

On a more angsty note, you might start cursing back at him about all the reasons you love him and why you stay with him and just end it with the fact you're going to be staying somewhere else now, and it's up to him if he wants to see you again, because you ain't doing this again without some kind of apology. A few days later you come back with a whole fucking research paper about every little thing you've ever done for him and why you love him with a whole-ass explanation and just chuck it right at him and dip.

Thankfully present-day Dottore doesn't pull these kinds of stunts anymore and is much, much more secure and confident in the relationship (which is good cuz sometimes you wanted to slap him for being an idiot) Both of you are just glad you can look back on it and laugh (mostly you because Dottore hates thinking about the times he acted completely braindead)

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Propaganda why Light Yagami is insufferable:

Had a great chance to actually solve the problems of the world but he decided to go after petty criminals instead of actual bad guys shaking my head. He thought he was so smart but got caught being suspected to be Kira before he even had his next birthday. How do you fuck up that badly? It’s a book you write peoples names in…Nice move, FedEx

Also his personality is awful

HE DIDNT DESERVE TO PULL A GOTH GIRL

Idk if he counts because he's SUPPOSED to be insufferable. But I don't care because I want to punch him in the face anyway. Oh and before the Light stans come at me let me say: thanks but I don't want your 5 paragraphs explaining why he's so complex and was corrupted and rationalized murder as a defense mechanism to avoid confronting the possibility that he might have done something that would make him irredeemable and evil and how in the manga he lost weight due to the psychological strain because I know. I think he's fascinating too but good God. He's so annoying.

he's like if a cop was a bitchy teenager about it

Propaganda why Anakin Skywalker is insufferable:

the guy has zero critical thinking skills, he whines about everything all the time. I love him, but he’s awful to listen to.

Yes he was probably directed to act that way but the way his lines were written did not help

THIS BITCH. I HATE HIM. NO CRITICAL THINKING. NO SELF AWARENESS. WHINY MURDEROUS ASSHOLE. LIKE SERIOUSLY. He's a JEDI. LIKE. THEY HAVE HISTORY CLASSES!!!! He should have KNOWNNNNNN that when he had prophetic dreams they're not necessarily true!!!!! Also like. In the Star Wars universe, do Jedi just not have imaginations that can create NORMAL dreams when they sleep??? Do Jedi just not usually dream??? If he hadn't gotten paranoid from the dreams of Padme dying in childbirth BILLIONS OF LIVES WOULD HAVE BEEN SAVED. FOR THAT MATTER, if you're gonna have A SUPER ILLEGAL SUPER SECRET MARRIAGE, wouldn't you, I don't know, USE PROTECTION SO THAT YOUR WIFE WHO IS SECRETLY AND ILLEGALLY MARRIED DOESN'T GET PREGANANANT????? LIKE LOOK I LOVE LUKE AND LEIA MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF BUT THEIR PARENTS WERE SO FUCKING STUPID. ANAKIN SKYWALKER HATES CONDOMS BECAUSE THEY DONT FEEL AS GOOD I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. Man is an IDIOT. How can you have had a role model and father figure like Obi-Wan for most of your fucking life and grow up to do the shitty, STUPID things Anakin did. Ok this is way too long I'm sorry but I love Obi-Wan so much and Anakin ruined his fucking life and hes just such a little DICK. MURDERED A WHOLE VILLAGE OF SAND PEOPLE. AND DOZENS IF NOT HUNDREDS OF CHILDRENNNNNNNN. ANGSTY WHINY TEENAGER. FUCK HIMMMMMMM

[theshimadaslovers]

IBA - INSPIRED BY ART

(BLACKWATCH X YOU FEM!READER)

Summary: You're the newest support of Blackwatch team, earlier, Mercy's assistance and student. The were all insecure about your staying in Blackwatch, cause you look so...nice.

Art by: hittower on tumblr

*After a long reunion with you, planning how the job is done and meeting everyone for the first time*

Gabe- Well...*sighs* That's it. I'm still pretty unsure about that, but...be welcome.

Cassidy- *looking at you*... how old are you again?

You- Hm? I'm in my 30...*confused*

Moira- Gabriel, are you sure that she should stay in Blackwatch?

Gabe- *shows a paper* Is on the paper...

You- Guys, I know...I look innocent and nice, not strong and rough...kind emo, like you guys, but I promise, I'm here to help anyway! *smile*

Cass- You were a Mercy student, aren't ya? Nanobiotic tech?

You- Yes, sir.

Moira- *roll eyes* At least is not gonna be all in my back... I almost died last mission trying to save a suicide ninja...

Cass- *chuckles* Yeah...Moira can't keep up with Genji, right buddy? *look at him beside him*

You- I can keep up, don't worry, I'm a former military and worked in a short period of time in a"ninja" experience project.

Genji- *frowned face* Ninja project?

You- Yes, trained by Asa Yamagami sensei. *smile and Genji eye went wide open* at the time, before Overwatch, the military was training to make some spys, ninjas, something like that, to infiltrating important establishments, like Talon, for example.

Gabe- Yeah, I remember that, Morrison denied... *sighs* He was thinking in doing that with Overwatch, but...we don't have "ninjas" enough and we don't have time to recruit.

You- Well, I'm in. Anything, I'll be here.

Genji- Asa Sensei?

You- Hm? Oh yeah, I imagined that you could know her.

Genji- She trained me and my brother since little...*sighs* Is a surprise that you knew her.

Cass- I wanna be trained by her too...*smirk*

Gabe- Right! The reunion is over... *gets up* And y/n...y/n, right?

You- Yes, sir.

Gabe- Later, show a little bit of your skills, all of them *left the room*

You- *smile* Sure!

Moira- I got some dirty experiments to finish...*vanished*

Cass- And I! Need a beer *gets up* You come, Genji? I bought the one you like.

Genji- *gets up* I rather stay today with y/n...

You- *surprised* Oh...you can go, Genji. It's ok~

Genji- I...wanna talk a little bit about normal stuffs.

Cass- Normal stuffs? Right *laughs hugging him by the shoulder* Heey...is just me or I'm feeling a different tension coming from my pal Genji?

Genji- Hm...*getting annoyed*

You- Ah...I...*laughs* What?

Cass- You know, come on, girl! The way this emo guy here is...he would never rather talk to someone.

Genji- Cole...shut...up.

Cass- Since you got here he have being acting a little weird, ya know? I swear I saw him blush! I swear! And I'm a man of word...!!!! *picture; elbow on the face* OW...! OUCH! *Hands on the face* MY NOSE!

Genji- *look at you* Stupid cowboy...

Cass- WHY THE METAL ARM?! Fuuuck! Ow!

You- *scared* Oh God, Cass, let me check! *runs to him holding his face* Look up, sweety...

Genji- *jealously air* Hm...wasn't that strong.

You- Well, depending where you hit him...*checking his noise* 1 to 10 how much is hurting?

Cass- Fucking 20...! Ow! Careful, pumpkin...!

You- Genji, you broke his nose...!*look at Genji a little annoyed* Why did you do that?

Cass- Again...!

Genji- *feels embarrassed* I...! It was...! Automatically...!

You- Hold yourself! *sighs still holding Cassidy's face* I need to take care of this... Genji, please, do not do this again.

Genji- I'm sorry...

You- Do not apologize to me, but to Cass.

Cass- Yeah...do it, kid.

Genji- *roll eyes* I'm sorry, Cassidy...

Cass- Good boy *smile* Ow...!

You- Ok, Cass, I'll take you to Mercy's lab, I'll take care of you there.

Cass- Sounds nice...

Genji- ...*left alone* ... *take a deep breath* Dammit Cassidy...! *look at his good arm* Should I break something too...? *look around and chuckles* At least I would be alone with her...

*Depressed Genji cannot find another way of thinking to stay alone with you, understand him*

It's possible to turn this into a whole story...I want that now lol

[crashromance]

hi it's a me 🤠 give me brocede + cheating (it's monaco it's traditional)

anything for u lover

lewis/nico | 1k | karting days

The way Nico slobbers over his vanilla cone is anything but pretty. You'd think rich white boys bred in tax havens would have better manners—but that's Nico for you. Nothing about him is sweet or stomachable.

"Want some?" he asks, licking creamy drip off his fingers. He holds out the last bite to Lewis, wafer crumbs speckling his lopsided grin. Lewis wrinkles his nose.

"You're disgusting, man. Anyway, I already won."

That was two in a row for Lewis. He could almost hear room service's raised brows when they rang for the third time, dead set on breaking the tie.

The trick was to never make eye contact. Just buckle down and get the job done. Five minutes, no cheating, loser pays. Most of the time Nico paid even when he won, but Lewis doesn't let that happen often enough to feel any type of way about it.

Nico shrugs, kicking his feet up onto Lewis's lap just to be a shit. "I'll get you back next time on track."

Lewis cackles. He's welcome to try.

Nico's eyes narrow. "Maybe I'll even celebrate afterwards with what's-her-name," he continues loudly. "Brenda— Belinda. She seemed nice." 

His mouth goes sour. After last week's race, Nico had slunk off with some brunette with Rosberg emblazoned across her baseball cap. It was an hour later and eight of Lewis's fingernails chewed down to stumps before he swaggered out of an RV, his hair a mess and his belt through only half the loops. He'd looked as smug as if he'd actually won, instead of barely making the podium like he did. 

Lewis had won that day, and it still grates on something in his core that Nico managed to beat him to this. He'd always thought—he doesn't know why, but he'd always thought that between the two of them, he'd be the first to fuck a girl.

"How was she?" He rolls his eyes at last, shoving Nico off. 

Nico taps the side of his nose, palpably delighted at finally getting him to bite. "Come now Lewis, where are your manners? A gentleman never tells."

"That's why I'm asking you." 

Nico grins, wolfish. "Wet." 

So much for being a gentleman. Lewis is torn between revulsion and morbid excitement. Had she sucked Nico off? Stuck her hand down his stupid distressed designer jeans and gripped the weight of him, stroking slow and then fast as his breath hitched? Did she dig her nails into the meat of his stomach, his back, his chest? Would he still be able to see the impression of them if he rucked up Nico's shirt to check?

Lewis and his high school on-and-off had never gotten beyond second base, and then he just got too busy and realized he liked racing more than he liked girls. He decides he's done with this conversation. 

Sensing something in his demeanor, Nico leans over and kicks him lightly on the shin. "Don't sulk. We should go for another round."

Lewis huffs. "Dino's gonna put us on a diet for weeks, man.

"Didn't mean like that." 

He lets the words hang in the air for a second before pouncing.

Lewis is ready for him. He grabs Nico's shoulders, digging his knees into the mattress so they don't fall off the bed. Cheating prick.

"Play fair," he pants, tightening his grip. He goes for a headlock, but Nico squirms away, managing an elbow to his chest. Lately, Nico has grown bigger than him, his limbs longer, his shoulders squared—but Lewis is fast. Faster. At the end of the day, isn't that what counts? 

He gets a knee between Nico's legs and presses down—and that does it. Nico makes a high, breathy noise, his features contorting.

It's not. Unprecedented.

After all, he knows what Nico's doing when he rests his hand on Lewis's thigh in the sun-baked backseat of Keke's car; fingers creeping higher the longer the shadows grow. Lewis knows what it means when Nico locks eyes with him as he wraps his lips around an ice-pop. What the implication is when he says want some?

Nico glares at him, challenge apparent. There's a pale flush blooming across his bare chest as he grows hard under Lewis's clothed leg. His golden hair is splayed across the mattress like a halo—or a crown.

Most days, Lewis rolls his eyes at what the papers write about his teammate, their purple-prose descriptions of the Monaco prince. None of these journalistic types get it. Maybe it's because they've only ever glimpsed Nico from far away, in the sun or in the shadow of his father. You have to steal close to see him for real. Close enough to get under his skin. 

Lewis knows it all—Nico's small, mean mouth, the sweaty weight of his body on a hot day. How he drools like a dog in his sleep. There's a doughy, unformed quality to his features, like he hasn't grown into them yet, and his hips are soft, like a girl's. 

Even so, looking down at Nico pinned against their pushed-together twin beds, that characteristic closed-mouth smirk rattled into something more unguarded, Lewis thinks he gets it. Yes. Nico is kind of pretty. 

He rolls his hips down, insistent on making Nico admit something. What, he doesn't even know. 

"Did Brenda do this to you?"

Nico moans, but the sound turns into a laugh halfway, ugly and snorting. It pisses Lewis off to no end, Nico's way of making him feel like he lost even when he's won.

"Don't talk about other girls when I'm right here," Nico says, and reaches up to push two of his fingers past Lewis's lips.

His fingers that are still sticky with fucking ice-cream. Cheating prick.