#because where else would you ever get to see that shit

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊����𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

As if you care | Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: JJ and Rafe crash at the finish line of the Enduro Race. Just because you and Rafe aren't together anymore doesn't mean you weren't worried about his safety.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! I promise I proof read the best I could with a 13 month old running around getting into everything 😅

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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The beach was packed with onlookers, ready to watch the 2024 Enduro race and see who would take champion this year. Your feet dug in the hot sand as you made it through the crowd to the sideline where the rest of the Pogues were. JJ would be racing again this year hoping to turn his luck around and win this year.

You could see across the track the kooks gathering around. One in particular catching your eye dressed like he was ready to race. He was never one to participate in these types of things so seeing him there was a shock.

"Rafe's here racing?" You ask Sarah, watching as Rafe pushes his bike to the starting line, beside the other racers.

She too was confused by his participation, shrugging, "I guess so."

Shielding your eyes from the hot sun, you can see Rafe has noticed you, giving you a brief nod of acknowledgment before swinging his leg over the bike to mount it.

"Shit," Sarah says, "Why the hell is he racing?" She's immediately stomping through the sand toward John B where he too is pushing his bike to the starting line next to JJ.

You followed Sarah, heading for JJ.

"You here to give me a good luck kiss?" JJ teases you with a kissy face, leaning close to you, as Sarah leans over to give John B a kiss.

You shove him in the shoulder, laughing, "You wish, Maybank."

He chuckles mounting his bike, sliding his bandana over his head, "No see I think if you kissed me, I'd win."

You rolled your eyes at his flirting, "Try not to get killed out there." You grab his helmet off the back of his bike, handing it to him. You and JJ had grown close after breaking up with Rafe, but it never crossed a friendship line. He was flirty, but both of you knew there wasn't anything there. He knew you still loved Rafe.

"You see your boy is racing today?"

"Yeah," You reply. Before anything else is said, the announcer gives the racers the minute warning. "Be safe out there."

"Oh I'll be so safe," He drags out with a laugh, hand on his heart.

You can't help but laugh at the memory with Pope, heading back toward the sideline with Sarah.

Rafe slides his helmet over his head, starting his engine and revving it a few times. Even behind helmet you can feel his eyes on you. He felt the anger pulsing through his veins as he saw the interaction between you and JJ. He should have known he would lose you and you'd moved on by now. It only pissed him off more that it was JJ.

You and Rafe had dated for a year before you ended it. He'd started hanging around the wrong crowd, drugs and alcohol making him a changed man. He wasn't the Rafe you fell in love with and you'd tried everything to get him to stop, get help and go to rehab but he'd blown up, destroying your shared apartment in anger; broken furniture, glass littering the floor, holes in the wall. It left you terrified and you gave him the ultimatum. Get help or you were leaving him. Unfortunately, the group had their nails dug deep in him and he wasn't ready to give up his way of life yet. You'd packed up everything you owned from the apartment that night with the help of the Pogues and hadn't looked back.

It didn't mean you didn't care for Rafe. or that you ever stopped loving him. There was no way you could live like that with him and Rafe didn't want the help. You had to admit, you could tell he looked healthier there on the beach, nothing like he did when you left 6 months previous. He'd shaved his hair, his skin was tan and those dark circles under his eyes were gone.

Soon the race began, sand flying through the air. The announcers had people set through the track to see where the racers stood in standings.

At the beginning, Rafe was first, JJ falling behind. As they come around the last curve, JJ jumped the sand dune, putting him in first place. Rafe and JJ went neck and neck, bumping into each other.

They both recovered but Rafe went for him again, bumping his tire and sending both of them flying through the air, landing hard in the sand.

As the race concludes, Topper taking first, everyone stormed the track, you immediately went to JJ with the Pogues.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" JJ starts toward Rafe.

"Get use to it, pogue." He shakes the sand off his arms.

JJ lunges for Rafe and Rafe lunges for JJ, but you quickly jump between them, "Hey! Hey both of you stop it!" pushing them back by their chests,

"You could have killed each other! are you fucking crazy!" You spit out to Rafe of anger and worry for the both of them.

"As if you care." Rafe pushes your hand off his chest, his shoulder bumping into you as he pushes past you before storming through the crowd.

You make sure JJ's ok, before following after Rafe. "Rafe!" Your legs burn as they dig into the sand, his long legs making it hard for you to catch up.

He doesn't acknowledge you, unzipping his suit to his waist as he nears his truck.

"Rafe!" You finally catch up to him at his truck, grabbing his arm to will him to face you, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He faces you, his face red with anger, "I know I fucked up alright, but did you really have to go for Maybank?" He lets his trucks tailgate down to throw his suit and boots in the back. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Just go back to your boyfriend. I'll apologize later when I'm calm."

The slam of the tailgate makes you jump, but you recover, grabbing his arm, "JJ is not my boyfriend! You don't get to pull this bullshit. Not after all the shit you put me through. You seriously could have killed both of you! That was reckless; a stupid move."

He can see your angry and if he's not mistaken, even a little scared, "Why do you care about my safety anyways? It's not like we're together."

"I didn't stop caring for you Rafe. I just didn't deserve the way you were treating me and I left. You needed help and you wouldn't accept it. What was I suppose to do? Stay with you while you continued to wreck our relationship and your life? You destroyed our apartment; you broke furniture. put holes in the walls. I was terrified."

He lets his back hit the side of his truck, running a hand over his head as he looks down at the ground, embarrassed he let his feelings get the best of him. "You're right, I shouldn't have done what I did. Today or that night. I was in deep with that group and I should have got out sooner. You did the right thing leaving." He finally wills himself to look at you. His eyes are sad, "As much as it broke my heart to see you leave, you did the right thing. I wasn't in a good head space and honestly I don't know what I would have done to you. I'm sorry I even put you through what I did. You didn't deserve it."

"I forgive you," You lay your hand on his arm, "I just wanted my Rafe back." You say, tears threatening to spill over.

Rafe wipes a tear away with his knuckle, "I'm here."

You lean into his touch, eyes closing in the comfort of his touch. You missed him.

Soon, his hands are tugging you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and he plants a kiss against your hair. You can feel your entire body relax into his. Your hands move up his back, palms open against his shoulder blades.

"God, I don't deserve you." He says into your hair, giving you a tighter squeeze. He needed this comfort just as much as you did.

He's the first to pull away from you, hands sliding to your cheeks, "I've missed you."

You place your hand over his, bringing his hand to your lips, and kissing his palm, "I've missed you too."

~

The two of you start heading back to the beach, deciding you both needed the extra time together. Everything finally felt right in the world. Your hand in his as your feet dig into the sand, the orange of the sun dancing against the ocean's waves as it sets against the ocean's horizon.

"I can see you still let your emotions get the better of you."

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you toward him, "When it comes to you, I do." He says before kissing the top of your head.

I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated! x

[gilverrwrites]

Dick being a bit of a perv towards Tim’s friend…you and Tim obviously have crushes on another, but Dick subtly convinces you that it’s unrequited, that Tim is turned off by how naive you clearly are…unless you want Dick to teach you some things, he’s be more than happy to *do it*…of course his hands are already creeping down your pants as he says this.

What?! Anon you're crazy. Dickie would never ever do something like this! Anyway... Warnings: Coercion, manipulation, choking, slut shaming, implied age gap Virgin!Reader.

The very first time he met you; Dick made it his mission to ensure he was your favourite member of the family. He’s often the first to invite you to events. He’s always cutting in at galas, much to Tim’s chagrin, and telling you how great you look. Not just the fancy stuff either, he showers you with compliments all the time. He just loves your cosy hoodie, and did you get a haircut? It looks great.

Sometimes he’ll make a show of staring at you, all starry-eyed as he says shit like “Wow. You really are just sooo beautiful. Tim’s a lucky guy.” Knowing full well Tim and you are not an item.

“If only I’d got there first.” Knowing that his comments will almost certainly embarrass Tim.

“What did Tim do to deserve you, anyway?” That the embarrassment is liable to make Tim push you away a little bit.

But it’s not all flirtation. Dick also asks about your life, your friends and family. He learns about your hobbies, and watches your favourite films so he can talk to you about them. He's always offering advice, warranted or not. He just wants to be ‘the best soon-to-be brother-in-law’, you know?

So, he's unsurprised and elated when you call him one night, on the brink of tears after seeing Tim on what looked like a date with someone else. “I feel so weird calling you since you're brothers but you're the only one who knows us both.”

“No, no, no. Don't ever feel like you can't talk to me. You can always come to me for anything! Why don't I come over?”

Half an hour later he's on your couch, listening to you lament about your hopeless crush on Tim. He pats your shoulders, and rubs your back throughout, subtly getting closer and closer until you're all but sat in his lap with his hand dangerously high up your thigh.

“Listen, Tim is my brother, and I love him, I do. And I don't believe in slut shaming, that's not what this is, but he does get around. A lot.” He catches a stray tear with his thumb. You don't move when he lingers, so he keeps shooting, caressing your cheek until he reaches your lips where he grazes their softness far longer than is appropriate. His cock is rock hard from cradling you, there's no way you haven't noticed it digging into your asscheek. You can't be that dumb? “I shouldn't say this, it’s not my place but you deserve to know. He’s a cheater. He's cheated in almost every relationship he's been in. I think he gets bored… Sexually.”

He hadn’t thought you could look any sadder, but you managed it. He almost feels bad. Almost.

“You should be fine though. You know what you're doing, right? No? That's crazy, you're so lovely.”

It takes a little persuasion, but it's cursory more than anything.

“Tim doesn't need to know; it’ll be our little secret.” He promises as he slides his fingers under your waistband.

That night he makes it all about you. He practically spoils you, never using anything but his hands and mouth to make you melt for him, over and over. It takes all his resolve not to kiss you stupid, only because you make such captivating sounds. Such moreish whimpers and moans. For his ears only.

He’s the worst brother in the world.

But that doesn’t stop him from calling you every chance he gets.

He knows he’s going to hell when he’s filled with a sick sense of pride, after dropping you off for a coffee date with Tim, having cum all over your tongue only moments earlier and driven you there with his hand practically lodged between your legs.

Sometimes he fantasises about sucking his name into your chest. Just so Tim will know exactly where you've been if he ever has the balls to close the deal.

But the veneer can only last so long, and you unknowingly chip away at it, bit by bit every time you say Tim’s name. “Do you think Tim would like this?” “I can't believe I'm asking but do you know if Tim…” “Oh, I can’t tonight, Tim and I…”

It finally shatters the first time he fucks you though. You take it so well, slowly letting him stretch out your tight, virgin hole. He barely even has to coach you through it, just a few sweet words of praise, his fingers brushing you in all the right places and your bouncing on his cock like it was made for you.

But then you go and spoil it. He barely even remembers what you said exactly. “Something, something, Tim.” and he's seeing red.

The next thing out of your mouth is a startled gasp as he fixes his hand around your throat and squeezes, pulling you close and pushing his length so deep inside that your eyes roll back as he spits; “Tim doesn't want you.”

You're like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed and confused but still moaning like a slut as he ruts up into you. “He did, but do you really think he'd ever touch you now? When he finds out you've been hanging off his big brother's dick? Should of taken photos so he can see how bad you wanted it.”

“But- but you said-”

“I know what I said.” You look the most aggrieved when he cuts you off. Never in a million years did you think golden boy Dick Grayson would be so callous. “And you bought it all. God- you’re too easy.”

He trails off for a moment, getting lost in how fucking good you feel, walls tight and twitching around him, milking him a little bit more every time he pinches your throat or bites out another nasty comment. All this time he’s been so nice to you; he should have known you’d like him mean.   

“Fucking shit~ I was never gonna let Tim have you. You were mine the moment you walked into the manor.”

[whimsicalpolitical]

Use me - Matty Healy x Reader

in which you always come to matty when your boyfriend doesn’t get you off

content warning: 18+mdni, smut, p in v, cheating, face sitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, handjob, aftercare,

“Sorry, where you uhm, going somewhere?” You ask Matty, pointing to his loosened tie and shirt.

“Nah, came back from dinner,” your eyes shoot up at his face. Dinner sounds romantic. He sees right through you though and eases your nerves, “dinner with my mates, love.”

You nod, taking another sip of your hot tea which matty brought you five minutes after banging on his door in the middle of the night.

“D’you need something else?” He asks, “anything at all?”

“No, thank you,” you smile, sinking deeper into the couch, hoping you could stay here forever.

Matty hums and sits next to you, at the end of the couch. He’s throwing his head back slowly, rubbing his forehead.

You watch. You trace the vein under his neck until it disappears into his shirt. His tousled hair reminds you of all the times you tugged at his curls because it was too much. Fuck. You’re still sticky between your legs. You were not able to chase your own pleasure because it doesn’t matter to your boyfriend, it never did and it never will.

Matty always gives a shit, perhaps that’s why you’re here, because you know you’ll feel good. Or maybe you’re here because he shows you an escape from the reality and he’s the only one who has that ability.

“Do I have something on my face?” He jokes, his eyes on you.

You shake your head, “no, it’s perfect as always.”

“Charmer.” Matty spreads his legs further and turns to you, “now, would you like to talk about why you came to mine at two in the morning or should we skip that part where you tell me your little boy isn’t enough for you?”

“Matty-“ you tilt your head and want to apologize, that you’re not using him for your own good but to tell him you enjoy his company.

“Actually, I would like to know what happened this time. Couldn’t he make you finish or did he not care in the first place, c’mon what was it?”

You sigh before locking eyes with him. The brown eyes you can’t stop thinking about. Ever.

“The second,” you respond with shame, “but I don’t care anymore, I just want you, can’t stop thinking about you.”

Matty lets a laugh slip out of his mouth before he moves closer to you, taking your legs and dragging them across his lap.

“Oh, darling, that’s a fucked up situation you’re in, s’ a real shame though- for him I mean.”

His hands are going up and down your thighs, teasing you, making you go crazy.

“What did you say to him ‘fore you left, sure didn’t say you were going to see me.”

You shrug, “told him I need to get work done, I guess.”

Matty hums, his hands now closer to the place you want him the most.

His knuckles brush against your lower stomach which is on display because your shirt had risen up. He sends goosebumps down your body at the feeling of his warm hands on your bare body and you want nothing but to feel them everywhere.

Matty wants to be close to you as well so he takes the opportunity and drags you onto his lap with his arms under your knees.

You don’t have time to make a sound because his mouth is on you again.

You part your lips willingly, gasping when he lurches forward and slides his tongue along yours, biting and sucking at your lips. Matty groans softly at the faint noises you make, your fingers tightening in his hair, the pleasing sting in his scalp sending jolts down to his hard cock.

“mmm matty” You’re panting, desperate for air he won't give you. He likes this—making you gasp, making you weak, making you forget entirely about your boyfriend.

Your hips move over his’ one slow time, gasping at the friction.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grips your hips and drags you across his bulge again, enjoying the pleasure himself, “is’ good?”

“Yeah-“ you breathe out, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, his hands finding his way to your ass.

“Matty-“ you gasp, as his jeans hit your clit over and over. You can’t wait, it’s impossible. You tried all night to chase your pleasure but how, if your boyfriend stops when he’s done and doesn’t help you.

“Please, can we-“

Matty is quick to lay you down on the couch, dragging your jeans with your panties down your legs. He shakes his head though when he throws your jeans down the couch.

“I don’t want you to beg, alright? M’sure you’ve done enough of that tonight. I just want you to use me, make yourself feel good, the way you deserve.”

You bite down on to your bottom lip, nodding.

“Want to kiss you here first, that alright?” He asks, spreading your legs with his hand.

“Fuck- yes.”

“Mhm,” he leans down, eyes looking up at you one more time before his gaze fixates on your dripping cunt.

"Fuckin' christ. You're a mess down here. You really tried, hm?” he says, and you can feel every word blow against you.

"Uh-huh," you say, a kiss sucked to your thigh striking stealing all thought from your mind.

"Get close?" he asks, with another kiss, hands kneading at your thighs and ass as they wrap around you and try to tug you closer.

You nod, hoping he can see you as your eyes slip closed with the feeling of him right here, between your legs.

“That’s fucking cruel though,” he chuckles, “fucking dickhead, would make you come everyday for the rest of my bloody life.”

He bites the inside of your thighs until you feel a soft, teasing kiss to your clit. You shudder and whine and your hand falls to his curls to encourage him to give you more.

“Please just-“

“Darling, ease up, like I said, use me, c’mon let’s switch places.”

You frown, not knowing what he actually means but it gets clear when Matty shoves a pillow under his head and you straddle him but he tugs you up his chest.

“Wait-“ you slow him down, “shirt off?”

“Sure,” he says, opening the four buttons that were closed, “now.. up.”

He's licking his lips and looking up at you - all over every inch of you - eating you alive with his stare.

He pushes and pulls you then, dragging you up his chest until your knees are settled either side of his face. You can feel the gust of his breath against your thighs iust before he hauls you forward a little more until his half face is completely covered by your cunt, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose visible now.

“Fuck, love, need me so bad you’re dripping down your thighs. I’m not making you wait, sit down, darling.”

“That’s it.” You settle down slowly onto his face, listening as he guides you down until you feel the first broad swipe of his tongue up through your folds.

"Perfect,” he says, swallowing the taste of you.

He kisses around your clit, nudging it with the curved tip of his nose when he finally licks up into you again.

And then, he's pulling your flush to his face and feasting.

The noise that leaves you is stupid. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a question all at once. His nose is pressed against you, his laughter fanning out across your mound as you try not to squirm and wiggle against him, fearful of crushing his head beneath your weight, or at the very least suffocating him.

His face burrows deeper, his hands holding you firm, squeezing and scraping calloused fingertips against your delicate skin.

His hands move from anchoring you to his face, locked around your thighs, to pressing against your ass, gripping the globes of them in each of his broad hands.

He grunts, squeezing your thighs up to your hips as he pulls your clit into his mouth, lathering it with his spit and your wetness. It's white-hot: the pressure on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, the insistent bump of his nose against your clit as he teases his tongue around your tight hole.

"Matty, Matty, fuck," is all you can manage, sweet little gasps that he drinks in, his hips bucking involuntarily with the delicious pain of your fingers pulling at his scalp. You're losing grip on the real world and slipping elsewhere, and he wants to get you there.

One of Matty’s hands slides between your legs, easing them open even more, and rests on your belly, shifting to your ribcage and helping you steady yourself atop him. His fingertips graze your breasts under your shirt.

“Mhmm, fuck, perfect,” he mumbles.

The sounds are slick and obscene, mingled with your drunken sighs and words of encouragement as you curl your fingers against the couch uselessly.

"Matty,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face, “so good, shit.”

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly.

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly. He'll imprint the feeling of him on your skin forever-if he hasn't already. He'll make sure you never have another man like you have him.

"I'm... oh, fuck, I'm gonna..." Your hips buck wildly, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you steadfast and firm to his face. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and fixes his tongue to you, wiggling slightly as he feels you stiffen above him. "Matty, shit.”

He knows. You're already coming. You’re both not surprised, you’ve been trying the whole evening and the orgasm that’s been stolen is now more than back.

“Yeah, like that, darling,” he praises, lapping at your cunt in the same pace.

Your hand leaves his hair and braces next to your other one on the couch, ensuring you don't fall over as your thighs shake uncontrollably and your mouth drops open in a keening whine. Matty keeps sucking at your clit long after your orgasm fades and you cry out from the overstimulation.

Gently, you reach down to tug his hair, and he reluctantly pulls away. He's so hard he can't conjure much mental activity besides getting his dick wet.

“Alright?” He asks with a big grin on his face.

“More than,” you respond.

Your chest is heaving as you try to pick your leg up and get off him, but your strength fails you. Instead, Matty grabs your hips and sits up, your cunt sliding down to sit on top of his erection. Experimentally, you grind down on him, watching a muscle in his jaw feather.

"Need you. Are you going to let me take your pants off?" you ask him, teasing, your finger tracing the metal of his belt buckle.

He grits his teeth, letting you take control for a moment, sliding the belt achingly slow out of each loop.

“Do anything you want to, you’re in control. Don’t need to act all modest with me.”

You dip your body low to his chest and press gentle kisses all the way down to his stomach.

Matty moans brokenly when you shuck his jeans down his legs and squeeze his hard length before it can slap up against his stomach. Your tongue darts out and licks up the precum pooling at his slit, making his cock twitch in your grasp. “jesus,” he groans. “You don’t have to, darling, you can make this all about yourself.”

You ignore him.

Your soft lips part around the throbbing head of his cock. Squeezing his strong thighs to ground yourself, you swirl your tongue around the tip and take him deeper, your throat expanding to accommodate him in your mouth. Your thumb rubs over his ‘we are kings’ tattoo like you always do, you look at him as you do so. His eyes are watery, blinking hard to expel the tears, his hand instinctively cradling the crown of your head to keep you on him, keep you choking around him.

“Christ, fuck,—” His fingers curl in your hair and gently urge you off his cock; you pout, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. His dick jumps at the sight, lying hard on his stomach.

“Don’t pout, don’t need to come in your gorgeous mouth if you want me again,” he rasps.

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes but of course you listen and crawl up his body until your hips are flush, his hardness slotted, thick and throbbing, between your folds. The hum that leaves your mouth is wanton, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. His hands move to your lower back, digging into the flesh just above your ass so you’re forced to roll your hips along his shaft.

“Have at it, darling,” he says.

You lift yourself up but instead of sinking down you take his cock into your hand and start moving up and down.

Matty shudders and grips your wrist, “fuckin, d’you want to kill me?”

You only giggle and shake your head innocently, “want you to fuck me now, I’ve been good.”

“Yeah, you reckon you are?” he reaches down, his hands going to your hips and guiding you down onto him. You both let out a moan as he fills you, the sensation almost overwhelming.

“You feel so good, love,” he breathes, looking down at where his cock disappears, “want you all the time n’ I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being with him.”

You look at each other, pupils dilated, mouths parted. You don’t move, not just yet, but you lean forward to crash your lips against Matty’s as a response.

Your hand grips the back of his neck to keep him exactly where he is, his tongue gliding across yours, filthy sounds coming from the both of you when you finally start to move.

“Yeah- fuck, you’re so good.”

You can feel his gaze on you, and it only served to heighten the pleasure building inside you. You start to ride him properly, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, his grip almost painful as he struggles to maintain control. The sounds he is making are sinful, the low moans and gasps escaping his lips spurring you on.

“Oh fuck, Matty,” you moan, “you make me feel so good.”

“Y-yeah?” He gasps, his thumb coming down your body to rub your clit in a torturous, slow pace, wanting to build the pressure, “s’ what I want, babe, need you to feel good.”

You moan again when he lowers his face to kiss you all over your breasts, sucking and biting at your nipple, offering you another way of stimulation.

“Need you, Matty, need you,” you repeat, your head falling against his shoulder while you keep your pace, your hips moving up and down.

“You have me, love,” he groans, moving his thumb a bit faster.

You clench around him and he can’t help himself but thrust into you so deep it makes you scream his name so loud you thank yourself he doesn’t have neighbors.

“Keep doin’ that,” he moans, “fuck.”

“Please,” you beg, just wanting to come with him all together, “Matty please.”

“I’ve got you,” he says, his brown eyes melting when he sees your fucked out face, “wanna come so badly again? Couldn’t feel good all evening and you need me for it?”

“Yes,” you admit, your hips slowing down, not having the energy like you had in the beginning, “fuck- I can’t.”

Matty hums and grips your hips, helping you to ride him faster, “like that, s’good, rub your clit for me though.”

You don’t waist a second and start as fast as when he stopped.

“Fuck, matty.”

“You’re perfect,” he says, moving his hips with yours, doubling the pleasure, “I- fuck, are you close?”

You know he is. His thrusts are faltering, eyes closed, head thrown back, his hands definitely bruising you but you don’t care. You want him to mark you. And honestly you couldn’t care less, not when you’re at the edge, letting yourself fall into him completely.

You clench around him again, a sign that you are close.

“Kiss me,” you whine, “plea-“

He does, it’s not a perfect, sweet kiss. He’s moaning against you, lips messily on yours, licking into your mouth as you both move together.

"You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you're worthless."

Matty’s mouth is everywhere-his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous," he groans, “fucks sake, my girl.”

He spurs you on and you can’t go any longer.

“Matty, im gonna come, can I- fuck.”

You whimper, your body trembling as the pleasure mounts, your mind going blank as Matty’s cock slams into you harder, deeper. Your hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours-it is too much, and you feel yourself spiraling toward release.

"You don’t need to ask for permission, are you mental?" he laughs, “come for me, love, whenever you want to.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snaps, and you scream his name as your orgasm tears through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as he groans deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, your hips slowing down as his hips slam into you one strong time, releasing in you with a whimper, groan and moan, “jesus fucking christ.”

You whine, only grinding softly against him until you’re both too fucking exhausted to move.

You stay like this though- with him softening inside of you until he accidentally slips out making the both of you hiss.

“I really really like you,” you say, not being able to lift your forehead from his shoulder just yet, “I swear I’m not using you for this.”

“It’s alright,” he soothes you, hand brushing through your hair, “I’m the last to judge, m’just glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

After a long while Matty decides to lift you up, keeping your legs wrapped around him. You whine at the new coldness, air hitting your naked form.

“I’ll just need to clean you up, darling, you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum holding on to him, “bed though, please?”

“Course,” he says, pushing the door with his foot softly that leads you into his bedroom, “I’ll be right back then.”

He lays you down softly but before he can walk to the bathroom you pull him down, holding his face to give him a sweet kiss.

He’s kissing all over your face then, asking you multiple times if you need anything, praises leaving his mouth, “you’ve done so good, love, going to let me get you a towel?”

“Fine,” you groan, rolling your eyes and pushing him away.

While he waddles over to the bathroom, slipping a pair of boxers on while doing so, you get yourself a piece of clothing as well. A simple black shirt from Matty’s drawer.

You flop down onto the bed then and not even a minute later he’s back, a wet towel in his hand and a lotion.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, kneeling on the edge of the bed and spreading your legs, “it’s what you deserve.”

You can’t help but smile at his sweetness, letting him drag the towel up your thighs to your core, hissing at the soreness.

“M’sorry,” he apologizes, being as careful as he can be, “even used warm water, thought it would be more pleasant than cold.”

“It’s alright,” you nod, “thank you.”

His brows are furrowed in that intense way of his, and you are lost, as always, in the precision of it all — how someone so careless about most things could be so careful with you.

When he finally sets the towel aside, his hands replace it, gliding along your thigh with a gentle grip. He reaches for the lotion he brought, squeezing a bit into his hand before warming it between his fingers. The scent is faint, familiar, like something he’d chosen just for you, and he slowly works it into your skin, thumbs pressing softly in circles along the tops of your legs.

You hum, a sound low in your throat, and he glances up at you, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Feel good, love?"

You nod, letting your head rest back on the pillows, eyes drifting shut as his hands continue their slow, steady rhythm.

"Matty?"

"Yeah?"

There is a pause, the silence stretching as you weigh the words you’re holding back. You swallow, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest before you finally let them go. "I think I want to break up with him."

For the first time that night, his hands still, his fingers still warm against your skin as he looks up, his gaze locking onto yours, eyes dark and searching. "You sure?" he asks, voice rough but soft. "I mean… I’d definitely drop that wanker if I were you. But… are you sure?"

You nod, your own voice quieter than you expected. "Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t…" you hesitate, trying to find the right words, "I don’t feel right with him. He’s a selfish bastard, Matty. Only cares about himself. Never really… I don’t know. Not like you do."

The corner of his mouth lifts, just a hint of satisfaction, but he covers it with a quick raise of his brow, setting the lotion bottle aside.

"About time, I’d say. I mean, you deserve better than some bloke who’s all talk and no bloody follow-through." He moves closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. "What kind of idiot would treat you like that? He’s the one who’s missing out.”

"Yeah… I just kept thinking things would get better, you know? Like maybe I was the problem."

Matty’s scoff is loud, dismissive, and his hand finds yours, fingers threading through yours with a surprising softness.

"Nah, not a chance. Don’t you dare let him put that on you. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever walked into his life, and if he was too stupid to see that? Then he deserves what he gets." His fingers squeeze yours, grounding and reassuring. "But you already know that. Just needed a little push?”

You nod, squeezing back. "Guess so."

He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your face as he tilts his head.

“You shouldn’t be with someone who’s not good for you, you know?”

You nod, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and pull him up by his biceps, “you’re right, and that’s why I’m here.”

Matty gets the hint immediately, letting himself be drawn up until he’s lying half on top of you, chest pressing against yours, his weight warm and solid as he settles against you. His head dips down, burying into the crook of your neck, and he lets out a soft, contented sigh, his breath warm against your skin.

“Been wanting this all day,” he murmurs, his voice a little rough, like he’s barely holding back some deeper feeling. “Just you, here with me. None of that rubbish, none of him messing with your head. Just us.

You hum, the sound vibrating in your chest as you feel him relax against you, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair, brushing it back from your face with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through you.

“Can I bring you anything? Water? Tea? Anything you need, just say the word.”

You smile, shaking your head slightly. “No, Matty, I’m good. You’ve done enough already, honestly. Thank you.”

He lifts his head, just enough so he can see your face, his eyes searching yours with that familiar intensity. “Enough? Don’t say that. Not a chance I’m leaving you without everything you could possibly want, got it?”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Well, in that case, just stay here with me. That’s all I want.”

His lips curve into a grin, his eyes warming. “Now that’s the easiest thing you could’ve asked for. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How about this: we sleep in tomorrow. Really let ourselves be lazy, yeah? Then I’ll take you somewhere nice, like that bakery on the corner. We’ll get those ridiculous pastries you like so much. What d’you think?”

You smile, the thought of it filling you with a cozy sense of comfort. “That sounds… perfect, actually. Can we get those chocolate croissants?”

“Anything you want.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll get a dozen if that’s what it takes to see you smile like that.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, his expression softening as he looks at you. “Deserve to feel like this all the time. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Least of all some idiot who doesn’t know what he’s got.”

“Thank you, Matty,” you whisper, meaning it more than you can say.

“Just glad you’re here.” His eyes hold yours for a long moment, then he settles back down, pulling you closer until you’re tangled together. He murmurs one last thing, just as you’re drifting off.

“Sleep well, darling. Wake me if you need something or just feeling lonely.”

You giggle as you start to rub small, slow circles along the back of his head, your fingertips grazing his scalp. He lets out a soft sound, almost a purr, and relaxes even more against you, his kisses drifting down to the corner of your mouth, lingering there as if he’s savoring every second.

“I definitely will,” you joke, “good night.”

“Night,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder blade before you’re both drifting off.

[physalian]

3 More Character Types the World Needs More Of

Or at least, I do.

1. The denied redeemed villain

I need this. So badly right now. So, so, so many “redemption arcs” are half-assed and carry undertones of guilt by the heroes, gaslighting them into thinking the villain “wasn’t all that bad” right before they make some big heroic sacrifice, as if that’s ever enough to make up for the damage that was done.

But you know what I never see? A villain who’s done some awful shit, wakes up to reality, tries to apologize and… is denied. No, it’s not enough to be sorry. No, you’re not absolved of your crimes just because you cry really hard on your knees. Yes, you have to work for it. Yes, even if you work for it for the rest of your whole life, those you hurt are not obligated to forgive you.

Example that sadly did not happen in canon: Enji Todoroki

2. The liar revealed who loses

This fucker lies and cheats his way into his lover’s arms (and liars revealed are always men, because their love interests are always women put in the place of “but he tried really hard and you need to forgive him uwu” unless it’s gay). Similar to above, no, you do not get rewarded just for feeling sorry.

This character builds an entire relationship (and it’s specifically romance that I take such an issue with) on a lie. They are not who they say they are, specifically, they lie about their identity because they know their lover would not let this happen if they knew the truth.

It’s one thing to lie about something inconsequential, or to lie about something unrelated, but to lie deliberately to present yourself as the perfect suitor—and these are never little white lies, these are usually entirely false identities, or secrets so damning that risking the truth could mean arrest or even death—just. Why?

Yeah, okay, you never thought you’d get this far. Cool. You don’t have to tell her the truth, but you have to leave before you trick her into sleeping with you.

It’s just. So squicky. And the lesson always is that he deserves love, that he makes up for it with everything else, that he’s just got a winning personality. She always forgives him, even if they fight about it, it’s so, so predictable.

Examples that did not lose: Aladdin, Evan Hansen

3. The paragon who loses faith

I don’t know that we need a whole bunch of these characters, but so many paragons are painted as heroes with unshakable loyalty to their causes and I’d love to see a devolution of character where they just can’t keep smiling and pretending it’s alright. That there is a limit to how much shit they can take.

They don’t have to go full villain, but maybe they just stop caring, maybe they get cynical, maybe they just don’t show up for work the next day, maybe they’re not there when they’re needed the most.

There’s a few stories I can think of where the masses realize they’ve screwed up and show the hero that their faith has been rewarded (Nolan Bats being one of them) but I mean really a hero who just cannot take it anymore, throws in the towel, and walks away knowing it’s the hardest thing they’ve ever had to do.

Example: (kind of) Captain America

—

Sorry this list is kind of a bummer. It’s a bummer kind of week.

[raointean]

I actually love the idea that Billy and William fused instead of just body-hoping. William would have died if Billy didn't come in and they fused! I love him saying that he has a mom because adoption right 🎉

Yes! The alternative is just too sad for me. As for the adoption thing, it's NOT just this fandom that struggles to understand bio vs. adoptive parents. I'm in the Star Wars fandom and there are SO MANY PEOPLE that refer to Anakin and Padmé as Luke and Leia’s "real" parents. Meanwhile, Owen, Beru, Bail, and Breha are called kidnappers or just ignored entirely (yes, I loved the Obi-Wan show. Why do you ask?)

I think the same problem is sometimes happening in this fandom too. We know Wanda and Vision as characters and we want them to be a happy family. We do NOT know Rebecca and Jeff Kaplan nearly as well, so there's a tendency to want to take the child from the characters we don't know as well and give him to the characters we know, like, and want to be happy.

On a slightly happier note, here's all my headcanons about Billy Kaplan's life (not Billy Maximoff or William Kaplan, but the entity that is both of them)

As William's heart stopped, his soul separated from his body and was on its way to wherever Jewish people go when they die

Billy M's soul, at the same time, was fleeing because it didn't have a body to support it

He found William's body easy enough to get into (because a soul had just left it) and close enough to alive to be fixed

However, William's soul was in between Billy M and the body

Billy M could have gone around and been the only soul in the body, but he was scared, okay?

Poor guy was only a couple days old, alone for the first time ever, and his mom had just kinda killed him and the rest of his family

Long story short, Billy M crashes into William and drags them both into the body

Billy M fixes the body just enough to keep living, but doesn't bother too much about the head injury

Meanwhile, William is stuck to Billy M like silly putty when you have two different colors and, by the time they get to the hospital, the two colors have blended entirely to form a new color

There's no way to differentiate one from the other

Billy Kaplan is born!

Because Billy M didn't fix the head injury, they both have amnesia

Billy K wakes up and it's literally "no thoughts, head empty"

(Except for some lingering sensation of loneliness... like there should be something someone? else there)

But not for long because he soon discovers he can hear other people's thoughts!

Which is really funny because he doesn't know that other people can't hear his thoughts

Poor guy genuinely thinks that humans communicate via telepathy for a solid 24 hours before he gets enough weird looks that he puts two and two together

(His parents are totally aware of this

There's only so many times your kid can answer exactly the thought going through your head without you catching on

Also, this is the Marvel universe!

Shit like this just... happens sometimes

They figure he'll come to them when he's ready, and until then they'll think nice thoughts and be supportive)

Billy K spends a solid four months trying to remember who he was before, stealing memories from his parents' heads, and pretending to recover from the amnesia

(Rebecca and Jeff try so hard not to make him feel like they're just waiting for their old son to come back but...)

Four months in, Billy's at the mall with his mom on some errands and that's where he sees it

Hot Topic

He begs his mom to go in there, and it's the first really normal teenage thing he's done since the car crash so she lets him

For the first time in four months, Billy forgets all about car crashes, and memories, and hospitals, and expectations

All that exists is spiky jewelry, ripped black skinny jeans, and a million of those cheap and hilarious pins

Over time, the family settles into his "new normal" and chalk most of it up to teenage experimentation

In that three year period though, Billy can't shake the feeling that something's still missing

He feels out of place in his body, even with the new aesthetic

(He sees that one tumblr comic about the coocoo bird and cries-- a lot. It's the closest he ever gets to telling his parents about his out-of-place feeling)

He doesn't tell them though

Instead, he digs and digs into the weirdest, darkest, most demented corner of the internet

Reddit

[icarusredwings]

Fortunately, Wade has re-died multiple times already before they found the girls, He found out because some other group of scared humans shot him. Wade, like an idiot, had tried to be friendly and was attempting to bring them a can of corn but honestly his friendly demenure scares other people WAY more then regular zombies because its the idea that Wade is SENTIENT. He can "talk" "feel" and has emotions.

He understands when you tell him things and while sometimes he dosn't make the best choices he is still very human like. This is the part that scares Logan and most others.

Zombies aren't conscious. They dont have prefered foods and like hugs. They couldn't figure out simple puzzles like if one door is locked to go around to the back door or how to properly use stairs and simple slide locks. They didn't ask their daughters about their day and play catch with them. They didn't sit at the table and whimper for their non zombie husband to feed them. They are just hosts to the virus.

But if anything, the virus is a new host to Wade's cancer, making him even more disgusting from the fact his flesh is literally falling off, but he can't die from the virus. His brain is much stronger then theirs and because of this- The idea of a person like wade, whos clever enough to put his hands up and drop to his knees when he sees other people now, going around eating people, possibly fooling them into false trust.

You're right, though. Wade is so SO proud of his girls and even more proud of Laura for forcibly having to mature quick enough to protect Gabby and handle her mentally as well as physically being able to provide for her.

Once or twice, Wade has found Laura crying from the stress of her father being gone and having to watch both Wade and gabby. Everything in her logic side of her mind was screaming at her to get away from him, but his arms were out, and his parental eyes got her to cling to him, hugging him tightly as she sobbed into him. The type of hug where she loses control of her claws and ends up stabbing him the same way her father does after a nightmare.

"Ooh!! Are we allowed hugs today?"

Only for Laura to scream at her to stop, to get back. She's a mess, ugly crying and tears running down her face faster then she can clean them.

Gabby jumps, tilting her head in soft shock before crossing her arms. "I'm telling dad that you're hogging papa!"

She runs off and laura turns to look at Wade, whos softly snickering. They laugh and deep down are glad that Gabs is so innocent still. To her, Laura didn't want her to steal her papa time but in reality she's still scared of gabby being bit despite physically in his arms.

And yes, Logan IS selfishly glad to know that if Wade ever truly does go feral, that it will most likely be Laura to do the job. She isn't hesitant. He taught her not to. And sometimes she's far too well trained. Being so young (COUGH and materal rage/ hormones COUGH) she is far too trigger happy but in truth guns won't do anything for wade.

Logan has learned that the only chance they had was decapitating him and burying his head miles away from his body. Yeah, his body will just regrow or his head will just reform but it will take about 12 hours which is plenty time for Logan to take the girls and book it to where ever else they could go.

Would it absolutely DESTROY his heart to abandon wade like this and leave most of their supplies? Yes. But he knows wade would never forgive himself if he turned one of the girls. Never in a million years.

This was far proven when gabby wandered too far from the cabin and wade tackled another zombie meer seconds before gabby was bit.

Imagine being a 13 year old girl watching your papa go APE SHIT on a fellow zombie, ripping him apart, dismembering him, throwing his organs as far as he could, shaking their leg around like a street dog does to a turkey leg.

And when he realizes, he stops and just stares at Gabs, covered in blood and ooze, blinking, hoping she wouldn't be scared only to smile widely and say "Wwwooah... That's so cool!! Ah man that guy STINKS!! Now you need a bath!"

Only for Wade to realize that Gabs is conditioned to such brutal murder as long as she doesn't have a connection. She was devastated to hear about puppins and has asked Logan multiple times if they could go find her and keep her.

"No honey, she bit wade almost instantly."

"But shes just a scared puppy! Shes probably hungry!"

"Sigh... gabs I already have too many mouths to feed. Please.. I just... we can't. I need to make sure you're fed. Not a dog..."

"But shes-"

And by now, Logans upset. "I said NO! Now that's enough. I would If we could, alright? Now please...go play."

Because that day he not only did he loose his dog. He lost part of his husband too..

I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO

Anyway.

Thinking about apocolpse au.

Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)

"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"

And wades like:

"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"

And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)

"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."

"Rah?" 🤔

"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."

"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)

"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."

"Raah!!" 😄

And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)

But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.

The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.

Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.

"Grr-"

"Aye! That's enough outta ya"

"GggRah!"

"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"

"Mmmh??"

"Bad!!"

"Mmh....rahah.."

"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"

Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.

He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.

"...aahh-"

"Wade- No."

"Ggr.. raahh"

"Wade! No! Bad."

"Mmmh..."

"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"

He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.

"Then don't bite me."

"Mmh? Mrah?"

"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."

"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"

"No, not even a tiny one."

"Mm...😔"

Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"

"🙂‍↕️mh"

"Good."

Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.

You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.

This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.

"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"

"Rahahrah?"

"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"

"Aawr..😔"

The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.

He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.

This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.

Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally

When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.

"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'

Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.

"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.

Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..

[coffeegnomee]

ugh sometimes watching Kab pov I get real sympathetic for how difficult it must be to be in her brain and just be so confused all the time and exhausted about masking her feelings to make other people trust her and her pain in wanting to be vulnerable and receive vulnerability and feel deep reciprocal love.

But then she says shit, really fucking mean and toxic shit towards mental health and healing and it triggers my own fight or flight and i become a ball of rage.

And like, I do get it. When you start your journey of mental health healing you often become the toxic one as you throw the shit people have said to you at everyone who also has similar mental health issues as you. (been there done that) Doing it to process your own rage at being told these things, or thinking, out of desperation, that if you can just get them to fix themselves quickly, you can fix yourself quickly. The bullied becomes the bully.

But then time passes and you realize this shit is hard to overcome. (or maybe it won't ever be overcome! and that's okay!) And you stop being toxic and you start being compassionate, to yourself and others. And eventually you start to heal and become confident in your own self worth and the validity of your emotions.

But before then it's the fucking worst place to watch someone be in. And that place is unfortunately where we are right now.

below is a short transcript of the convo this reflection is based off of. it can be triggering so like, don't feel obliged to read it.

11/10/24 kab vod: "I have no idea what's happening"

1:42:00 KAB: “what about how he makes me feel? Why is it so important what he feels and to accommodate everything he’s feeling? Why do i have to conceded to that???”

1:44:00 “I’m sick of having to accommodate to everyone else’s actions” 

realizing your masking is hurting you is one of the worst realizations (imo). bc the mask keeps you safe, but if you can't process or give worth to your real emotions, it's not serving you.

so she swaps from processing her own feeling to being angry at zam.

1:47:00 She gets he needs time and space, but “We don't have time for to try and sit and process your emotions properly. Do it after we deal with this fucking issue [...] sometimes you just need to toughen up” 

Fucking hell the trigger i just felt for just toughen up. 

1:48:00 “i need to know what he’s thinking so that we can work together. In a team!” 

what team!?!

“‘Does zam really hate communication more than he likes spawn and the server’ literally. Like pick your priorities dude.”

I’m going to fucking throw up. Because yes. Actually yes. Unfortunately and actually yes. He's gotten a lot better but like.

1:53:00 “I dunno. I wish he would care about himself as much as i care about him. Hard to see him like this [pause] maybe he does need more nurturing than i can give him bro ugh. I am just not- i am not good at that shit. I think it’s stupid [..] when you have a job to do [..] just shove your emotions away for a bit. And then you can process them later” 

I was going to say this is just eclipse, but I just realized that maybe it's just this is exactly the perception Zam had of Vi: that Vi just wanted him to move on when he couldn't. All his deepest fears of what Vi wanted from him are being personified into a new person. 

(also he is shoving his emotions away and that's why he's not processing it and giving you an answer for why he "doesn't know"????? but since he's not a perfect ball of joy and masking to you and because he is doing what you can't (shove emotions away) you are in rage)

1:54:00  “But it’s like, while there’s a life or death situation that literally determines the entire server we don't have time to be like, holding your hand, you know? Like, you're an adult” ughh fuck. being broken is inconvenient for others and age is seen as an invalidation to any of your real brokenness. If you're old you no longer have the right to be broken. Can we please change this narrative? thx

“If he cared enough he would actively try and do something to help himself in this situation” 

Interesting choice of words to say "he would try to help himself if he cared" complaining about others not "working" on themselves (and you can never know if someone is working on themselves bc you're not in their brain) helps nobody bc you can only control yourself.

“You just want to sit and feel bad about yourself” no that's what you're doing kab

“He got me to fucking open up to him and pour my heart out and is now turning his back on that entirely. That’s what i’m actually more upset about” 

oh the naive belief that because you pour your heart out to someone they must reciprocate. That is the risk you take when you are honest with someone about your feelings. They are at no obligation to reciprocate ever. Never ever. But that doesn't mean your feelings aren't true and it doesn't mean you shouldn't have done it. Love is a risk.

But also she feels she was forced into it. Forced to be vulnerable and she hates the vulnerability. She doesn't remember (or believe) that Zam promised to not use it against her. She isn't willing to give him the chance to not use it against her. He simply knows and that is a threat.

So love turns into spite. Instantly. And she doesn't want to talk to him anymore. And decides that she will just be fake to him.

oh girl. keeping the mask on doesn't help anything. 

“I’ve lost a lot of respect for him today. I’m done trying to impress him”

and so the mask returns. and healing stops.

[verstappentime]

more of daniel taking care of max when he has a migraine that i didn't post ❤️ if you're just joining us, max had a career-ending head injury and left f1. he and daniel are married but currently broken up!

(part 1/part 2)

“Stay,” Max says, rushed, before Charles can get anything else out.

“Okay,” Daniel says. He tries to clear the lump in his throat. He’s been waiting for Max to say that word, but this is as close as he’ll get, probably. “Tilt your head forward for me.” Max does; Daniel gingerly presses the ice where his head meets his neck.

Max hisses, reaching up to grab Daniel’s forearm. It’s been so long since Max initiated touch with him; Daniel forces himself not to jolt.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.”

Max groans, gradually loosening his grip. “Can we do the bathtub thing?”

“The– Oh, yeah, sure. Charles, do you have a bath?”

“I feel like you are being the doctor and I am the nurse,” Charles says. He’s hovering closer than a second ago. “Yes, I do, is it for something weird?”

“Nurses are very important,” Max says. Daniel wonders if the meds are making him loopy already.

“It’s not for anything weird. Can you fill it up with hot water? As hot as it can get without burning.”

“Fine. But it’s for him.” It’s too dark for Daniel to see the look Charles is giving him. Just as well.

Daniel stays there, crouched beside Max, keeping the ice pressed to his neck. Max’s breaths are shallow, like he’s trying really hard not to wince, but he’s mostly failing. “The medicine is gonna help,” he says, just for something to say. In the dark, eyes closed, Max reaches around for his hand. Daniel links their fingers, squeezing hard. Max’s hand is clammy and he can’t get a good grip on Daniel, all weak and floppy. “Tell me what feels bad?”

Max turns his face into a couch cushion, making a tiny whining sound. “It’s– like, all the bad stuff. I scared Charles with the throwing up.” He’s talking more, which is a good sign.

“It’s fine,” Daniel says. “He called me and I’m here now, so it’s fine.” He presses his thumb against where Max’s jaw meets his cheek. He’s so tense everywhere.

Charles comes back into the room. “The water’s in the bath. I’m saying again to not do anything weird.”

“We are going to do something so weird,” says Max. He groans as he swivels his legs around to stand up, pressing on his forehead. “Ah, fuck. Shit.” He grabs Daniel’s wrist, squeezing hard.

“Take it easy,” Daniel says, clearing his throat where it’s all thick. He hates this, he hates that Max hurts, that he’s still hurting, and he— he loves, sort of, that it’s him Max is reaching out for. It’s fucking twisted.

Max doesn’t ask to be helped, so Daniel doesn’t offer, just hovers as Max slowly pushes himself to stand up. But Max is unwieldy, swaying a little, and— and he grabs for Daniel again. Maybe it’s just because Daniel’s seen it all before, because he’s fed him and bathed him and sat with him in the middle of the night, but. He’s still being chosen. “Sorry,” Max says, like Daniel would ever want him to do anything else. “My eyes are not so good.”

“It’s fine. I have you.” I always will, I always fucking will.

Charles waves them through to his master bathroom. In the light, Daniel can see that Max’s left pupil is blown. He’s sweaty and he looks like shit, hair all messed up, but he’s Max, and he’s gorgeous. Daniel wants to hold him.

“Max, yell for me if he is doing anything weird to you,” Charles says, and ducks out of the room. Conceding.

“You could have told him we’re not getting naked.”

“I mean, I am taking my pants off,” Max says. “Can I hold onto you?”

Daniel nods slowly, feeling oddly like he should look away. He watches the ceiling as Max holds onto him for balance.

If Max notices him acting weird, he doesn’t say so. “You’ll get your pants wet,” he says instead.

Oh. Daniel glances to the door, where Charles is not. This isn’t what he expected when he woke up today, he thinks, as he’s stepping out of his jeans.

They sit on the edge of the tub, Daniel pressing the ice pack to Max’s neck. It’s an easy trick; get the circulation down into his lower body and away from his head.

“Charles could do this,” Daniel says, after a moment.

“I know,” Max says. He leans his head on Daniel’s shoulder, closing his eyes. He doesn’t say it, but Daniel knows it: I wanted you. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

[sunflowerseob]

Guilty Pleasure | Haku Shota

Coming home early to surprise your boyfriend takes a turn when you find out he's got a surprise for you instead…

💜 Pairing: boyfriend!hakushota x reader

💜 Word Count: 2.8k

💜 Genre: Established relationship, smut, pwp, fluff

💜 Rating: 18+

💜 Warnings: Explicit language, mention of masturbation, Shota likes to wear reader's clothes, Shota in a skirt, making out, groping, biting, marking, hair pulling, grinding, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), scratching, praise, Shota is a good boy™️, multiple orgasms, cum eating, skirt stays on during sex, sub!Shota, needy/whiny Shota, unprotected sex (pls be safe ‼️), riding, crying, choking kink, soft ending as per my brand 🙂‍↕️

A/N: So this is a surprise gift for my best friend @hakuheartsoul 😘🎉💜 Thank you for never giving up on me even when I give up on myself, both in life and in writing 🥺 There's no one else I would rather be writing with and for and I feel so lucky that not only are you my very best friend but also one of my fave writers ever 🥹 Make sure to go read Skye's fics and support them they literally deserve the world and are such an incredible writer and storyteller 🥰 Not exaggerating when I say their Keeho fic literally changed my life 🙏🏻 And thank you so much to everyone who's been reading my stuff on here and supporting me it means so so much 🥺🩵🩵 Hope you enjoy my debut Shota fic 🫶🏻

Masterlist

You felt nothing short of absolutely giddy as you walked up to your apartment door. You had decided to come home early to surprise your boyfriend with dinner from your favorite takeout place. You hated how the two of you hadn’t been able to spend much time together lately, and you’d been missing him like crazy. You couldn’t wait to finally be able to share a meal together, and then spend the rest of the night hopefully cuddling and watching a movie or playing a game. Or whatever your boyfriend felt like doing. You honestly didn’t care as long as you got to be with him.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you inserted your key and unlocked the door to your shared apartment. You expected to see your boyfriend as soon as you walked in, but the living and dining room both showed zero sign of his presence. You carefully set the food down on your dining table before calling out for your boyfriend, “Sho? Baby, are you home?”

“Y/N? Shit, hang on. Be out in just a second, baby.” he called back from your bedroom.

You just laughed and shook your head, following his voice to your shared room. You were dying of curiosity to know what was keeping him. It briefly crossed your mind that maybe he had been getting himself off, but you had never known him to be shy about you catching him in the act. Usually, he was more than happy for you to walk in because you would either help him out, or you would just watch him and it would spur him on that much more. Heat pooled low in your belly just at the thought.

You slowly poked your head into the open doorway, a gasp slipping out from between your lips at the sight that greeted you. Shota’s eyes went wide, his whole face flushing crimson as he stumbled over to where you were standing.

“Baby, wait, I swear I can explain. I didn’t think you would be home for hours, and fuck, this is so embarrassing.” your boyfriend groaned before pressing his palms to his eyes.

You were immediately reaching for him and gently pulling his hands away from his face. He was blushing so hard, and his eyes looked everywhere but at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest with affection.

“Love,” you said softly, still holding his hands, “why are you embarrassed?”

“You must think this is so weird.” he mumbled, his lips forming a frustrated pout.

“Sho, look at me.”

His eyes reluctantly met your own.

“Baby, I promise, I don’t think it’s weird. You just surprised me a little is all. I had no idea this was something you liked to do.”

It appeared your boyfriend had been raiding your closet as well as your jewelry and makeup while you were at work. You had walked in on him wearing one of your black mini skirts with his black shirt that was sleeveless on one side tucked into the waistband. He also had your black chain choker hanging from his neck, and you recognized some of your eye shadow, eyeliner, and blush adorning his features. Your boyfriend sighed before speaking again, “I just got bored one day and wanted to try on some of your stuff for fun. But then I actually ended up liking how it looked, and, yeah…”

You dropped his hands before cupping his flushed cheeks.

“Sho, I’m not upset. You know that, right?” you asked him as your thumbs lightly stroked over his skin.

“You’re not?” he queried back, and your heart nearly broke at the genuine concern in his voice.

You leaned forward to briefly brush your lips against his own in reassurance.

“No, baby, not at all. I just wasn’t expecting it. I came home to surprise you, but you surprised me instead. It was a nice little surprise too. I like seeing you in my clothes, love.” you murmured against his mouth.

Shota stole another kiss from you, making you giggle.

“You do?” he inquired, and you could feel him smiling.

You let your hands trail down to rest on his hips, bunching up the skirt in your fists. You hummed contentedly, “Yes, Sho. Look so pretty, baby.”

“I’m so happy you’re home. I’ve missed you so much.” 

He rested his forehead against yours, and you felt something in your chest loosen. It had been way too long since you’d had him close like this. His fingers were sliding up and down your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I’ve missed you too, Sho. So fucking much.” you told him before tugging his body flush against you and reconnecting your lips in a much more heated kiss this time.

Shota groaned into your mouth, your tongue easily slipping inside to taste him properly. You could already feel him starting to harden against you, even through your skirt, and it was making you grow wetter by the second. Your boyfriend’s hands were all over you now, greedily brushing over your neck before traveling lower to slip under your shirt. You nipped at his lips when he made a grab for your still covered breasts. His fingers easily slid around to your back to undo the clasp in one fluid motion. You felt him pulling at the bottom of your shirt a moment later.

“Take…off…please…” he whined into your mouth, “Wanna see you…”

You chuckled slightly against his lips before taking a step back to shrug off your blazer.

“Someone’s eager today.” you teased him before lifting your shirt over your head.

Shota let out a soft moan as his dark eyes drank you in. You smirked, holding his gaze while you slowly slid your pants down your legs, leaving you in just your panties that were practically sticking to you at this point.

“Fuck. Baby, are you trying to kill me?” he grumbled while palming himself over the skirt, the sight making you feel borderline feral.

You crossed the space between you, pushing him down onto the bed before settling yourself in his lap. Your boyfriend’s mouth was immediately on you, leaving rough, wet kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“Sho.” you sighed out, your fingers burying themselves in his long dark locks.

His strong arms wrapped around your back, holding you close as his lips ghosted over the tops of your breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, love.” Shota whispered against your skin, and you involuntarily rolled your hips forward.

He was fully hard now, and he hissed when you brushed against him. The stimulation wasn’t nearly enough with Shota’s skirt and your panties still in the way, but you were quickly forgetting about that when your boyfriend suddenly sucked one of your nipples into the warmth of his mouth.

“Fuuuuuck, Sho.”

His tongue teasingly flicked over your bud, and you jerked in his hold. You could feel Shota smiling as he continued making you squirm in his lap. His hands settled underneath your ass, and before you could even process what was happening, he had flipped you around so that you were now seated on the bed. Your head literally felt like it was spinning as you watched your boyfriend kneel in between your legs, the bottom of his skirt just barely brushing against the floor.

He looked up at you as he leaned forward to drag his tongue from your knee all the way up to your inner thigh, and your hands desperately gripped the sheets on either side of you. Shota pushed your legs further apart, holding them open while he sucked spots of color into your skin.

“Oh my god, Shota.” you moaned, your head falling back slightly.

When you tried to face forward again, something in the background caught your eye. You could see the abandoned dinner still sitting on the table through the open doorway. Your boyfriend clearly didn’t appreciate you getting distracted, his teeth sinking into your thigh to redirect your attention. You yelped, Shota looking back at you mischievously as his tongue soothed over the bite mark.

“Sho, baby, I, fuck, I picked up dinner from our favorite place. Maybe we should pause and eat before it gets cold.” you tried suggesting, but mainly you were just panting out words.

The man between your legs turned his head to look where your attention had been focused just moments before. You got ready to stand up from the bed, but Shota’s hands dug into your thighs harshly, holding you in place. When he looked back at you, there was something truly wicked in his eyes.

“Sho?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, baby. I’m getting ready to eat right now.”

He gave you a knowing look, and you clenched around nothing. His face hovered in front of your covered core, making your legs begin to tremble slightly.

“And fuck, I’m starving.” your boyfriend practically growled out before fully burying his face in the fabric, tonguing at you through the material.

“Fuck!” you cried out, clenching the sheets in a death grip.

He shamelessly sucked on your panties, tongue bumping against your clit and making your breath hitch. You started instinctively grinding against his face, your thin, soaked underwear barely serving as a barrier anymore. Shota finally pulled the garment to the side and put his mouth on you fully, and you jolted above him. Your thighs threatened to close around his head, and you didn’t miss the way the muscles in his arms strained to hold you open for him as his tongue dipped past your folds.

“Fuck, baby, love this cunt.” Shota hummed against you, “Always taste so sweet for me.”

The way his tongue hungrily fucked into you let you know just how much he had been missing you lately. He ate you out like he had something to prove. And whatever it was, he definitely was getting his point across.

Your fingers released the bed sheets, instead finding home in his hair as you held him against you. Shota grunted into your core, his nose brushing against your swollen bud, making your nails scrape against his scalp. Your legs spasmed in his hold, and one of your feet suddenly brushed over the erection straining against your skirt. Your boyfriend moaned between your legs as you pressed your foot against him harder. It was the only way you could reciprocate at the moment, but the way his hips bucked against your touch told you it was definitely having an effect on him.

“Sho, baby, fuck. Always so good for me, love. Such a good fucking boy.” you praised him, and he groaned into your cunt in response.

“Shit. Love being your good boy. Always wanna be good for you, baby.”

He really emphasized his words when his lips wrapped around your clit, making you start to see stars.

“Fuck. Shota. Oh my god.”

You glanced down and could see hand prints starting to form across your skin from how hard he was gripping your thighs. His tongue steadily flicked over your bud, and your hips rolled harshly against his face. The next time your foot applied pressure to his groin, you felt a small wet spot through the skirt. Knowing that you were both equally getting off on this had you moaning obscenely above him.

You were so close, and the moment Shota decided to sneak a peek up at you, his mouth still sucking at your clit, you were fucked. The drunk, fucked out look on his face paired with your makeup smeared underneath his eyes had you coming almost instantly.

Your boyfriend took his time lapping up your release, until you grew too sensitive and pushed his head away. You were still trying to come down from your incredible high as he got to his feet to stand in front of you. You could immediately see the small stained spot on the skirt, his cock tenting the fabric and making you groan at the sight.

Shota was in a total daze as you reached for him to pull him down to claim his mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he weakly licked into your mouth. You tugged his bottom lip with your teeth, “Clothes off, baby. On your back for me. Gonna fuck you, Sho. Gonna make my good boy feel so fucking good.”

Your boyfriend whimpered, and you felt the shiver that ran through him. He clumsily pulled his shirt over his head, and your eyes ogled his muscular torso. He was so hot. And sometimes you couldn’t believe he was all yours.

His hands went to the waistband of your skirt, and before you could stop yourself, your own hands were shooting out to halt his movements. Shota looked down at you with questioning eyes.

“Leave it on.” you instructed simply, but firmly, feeling nearly possessed by the desire coursing through you.

Your boyfriend’s entire face flushed at the command, and you needed him so bad, you could barely stand it. His cheeks got pinker and pinker as he shyly slid his boxers out from under the skirt and down his legs. You were practically salivating as you gestured for him to lay back on the bed. He situated himself, refusing to look at you as your eyes raked down his body.

“Fuck, Sho. You look so perfect like this, baby. So pretty in my clothes, love.”

He finally tried to meet your eyes, the flush on his face immediately spreading down his neck and chest. His cock poked out from underneath the skirt, and he looked painfully hard. You carefully moved to straddle his waist, your hands smoothing over his hips. You dragged a finger up his body to tug at the chain around his neck, and you felt him twitch under you in response.

“You ready for me to fuck you, baby? Make you feel good, Sho Sho.” you cooed, and the use of that particular nickname had your boyfriend letting out a whine underneath you.

“Fuck, please.” came his breathless reply.

You leaned down to kiss him sweetly as you positioned yourself to hover over him. Your hands reached down to lift up the skirt to expose him fully before you started to slowly sink down onto him.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” Shota hissed, his back arching off the bed slightly.

You groaned as you rolled forward, hands fisting the skirt and further bunching up the material.

“Feel so good, baby. So good for me, Sho Sho.” you murmured as you started to ride him in earnest.

Shota’s eyes squeezed shut, turning into a moaning and panting mess underneath you. You switched to grinding on his cock, nice and slow, relishing the feeling of him inside you. Your boyfriend’s eyes fluttered open, and you immediately noticed that they were wet with tears that were threatening to spill over. One of your hands moved to slide under his choker, fingers splayed out over his throat. The moment you gave a slight squeeze, fat tears trailed down his cheeks, making his makeup even more of a mess. But all you could think was that he had never looked so beautiful.

“Are you gonna be my good boy and come for me, Sho Sho?”

He whimpered and nodded his head, fresh tears cascading down his face. You leaned down to kiss the wetness away as you picked up your pace again. Shota’s hands were flailing at his sides, looking for something to help anchor himself. You reached out to intertwine your hands before pinning them down on either side of his head. He desperately fucked up into you as you rode him harder, panting into his mouth as you tried to chase his lips.

The way he was twitching inside you let you know that he was close, and you honestly weren’t far behind him.

“Fuck, love, c-close.” he whined out, chest rising and falling in rapid succession.

“There’s my good boy. Come for me, Sho Sho.” you beckoned sweetly as you peppered kisses all over his face.

He cried out, nails digging into your joined hands. You leaned back to look down at him, and you clenched around him at the way his eyes rolled back when he came inside you. His name fell from your lips as your own orgasm crested over you. You collapsed on top of him immediately after, Shota’s arms slowly winding around your back to hold you close.

“So… I guess you really do…like when I wear your clothes…huh?”

You giggled, nuzzling into his neck and planting a kiss there.

“Baby, next time you wanna play dress up, please let me know. I have lots of ideas. There’s so much you would look good in.”

“Can I try one of your dresses next time?” he asked, voice sounding sleepy.

You moaned softly, “Shota, are you trying to make me feral? Again.”

He laughed underneath you, lips brushing against your hair.

“I love you. Hey, can we go eat? I’m actually hungry now.”

You burst into another fit of giggles.

“You’re just insatiable today, aren’t you? Yes, my love, we can go eat. I love you too, Sho. So, so much.”

[l1li4n]

lestappen top 100 tags on ao3. i know that's my parents <3

[kingkatsuki]

Yeah short skirts and crop tops are sexy— but there’s just something about a man that finds you so attractive wearing clothes that shouldn’t be considered typically sexual. Like baggy sweats or his old, worn shirt.

Those plain, boring outfits that aren’t planned and are just thrown together for comfort and practicality that have his dick throbbing for you as he imagines bending you over the nearest surface.

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[eisthenameofme]

love when it gets to the point of The Discourse where i feel the need to key word search otherwise chill people's blogs for rampant bigotry before following them. Like this isn't exactly what happened with 'ace discourse'

[dykedvonte]

I like to think in the P.E au that Anya and Curly specifically get haunted hard by Jimmy's weird reality crossing guilt manifested.

It's targeting them because Jimmy's guilt grows more around them. The idea of him acting and playing nice despite what he did. It's like a buffet that allows it to pick from their plates.

Anya sees this stagnant version of her, blood from her mouth, clutching her stomach with a bottle of pills in her other hand. She's talking about not being heard, a pixel, relief from a burden. She tries to ask a question and it's never the right one. She's not understanding but in a way, she's getting that this version of her is in pain. She tries to help, extends a hand and asks how she can help, stop it. She stares and there's utter despair and disappointment in her eyes.

What did you do?

Curly sees this burnt mangled thing. But he can't call it that. Even with no skin and chipping teeth, covered in sullied bandages and smelling of death overdue, he can see his face. He can recognized that eye, he stares at it a lot in the mirror, usually a second one is attached but he digresses. They are just watching, staring and unmoving. He asks himself what happened, how can he help and his own retched mangled voice comes out from a empty maw.

I told you.

They have no idea what it really means. They don't know who to tell. Flashes of a life they don't know or maybe a future they haven't lived yet. Perhaps they treat it as their own minds trying to tell them something. They bare that burden themselves and that alone makes it heavier. Plumper. More appetizing to the guilt causing it.

Tragically that guilt is not their own.

[anxiously-sidequesting]

anyways seeing Duncan still with the Schism at the end left me like ☹️