#but believe me if i had gotten into detail on even more characters and all the musical numbers and the other elements individually

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 6 - Your Brother | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

Even though things were ‘good’ you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about what you and Trent were doing. He was in and out of town so often for football it was hard to know what was happening. So, in the midst of flickering doubts, you had decided you would try to create some self-imposed distance to keep your heart safe. You’d gotten to a place where yes… you were sending nudes, videos of you in bed which in itself maybe wasn’t the smartest but it was happening, you were enjoying it in fact. But enjoyment couldn’t mask apprehension. Still, you were keeping everything just on the phone. Keeping everything hush, not even Layla knew how deep things were getting. And while this digital relationship was blossoming, you were keeping the public one that existed in front of everyone’s eyes at an arm's length. And it hurt to be living what felt like a double life.  You two clearly had no self control and that was evident in the text exchanges so keeping your distance felt smart.  With all of that in mind, you hadn’t expected to see Trent at your door this afternoon, let alone embracing you in a cuddle so warm it felt like he hadn’t seen you in ages when it’d been mere days. You stiffened at first, taken by surprise, but quickly melted into him. As much as you tried to pretend you shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t do this with him, you yearned for this very thing; the physical connection you were trying so hard to keep at bay. You tried to believe that space was the best thing to do to keep yourself safe but the second his arms wrapped around you… the world melted along with you. Memories of him flooding you. It was like he had your heart before you couldn’t even try to stop him from grabbing it. You were powerless and you loved being weak for him. 

“You’re back home.” Your voice was muffled against his skin in the embrace of the hug. He hummed, squeezing you that much tighter. Just as you began to pull back, his grin widened cheekily. 

“Can you wait here f’me? I got something for you.” Before you could respond, He smiled as he darted back out to his car, leaving you standing there, curiosity building, warmth flooding you. When he returned, he was holding a stunning bouquet, petals in shades of blush and deep red. 

“I don’t play footie in the park anymore so I thought you deserve more than a daisy.” He smiled earnestly with a glint in his eyes that almost looked scared. Trent was still grappling with how to show you just how much he cared. He was worried about Jack, sure, but keeping things hush didn’t feel so bad at the minute as long as he showed you he cared. He was looking for that sweet spot of past and present. And so began another attempt. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed as you took the flowers, turning them in your hands, admiring every detail. But Trent wasn’t done. “Pretty girl…” He cooed gently to grab you attention off the floral arrangement and back to him. He smirked holding two more bags. You raised your brow with a smile you couldn’t contain anymore. He handed you a sleek Dior shopping bag, his words tumbling out in a rush. “You know like… I was in just France for the game and… well, I saw this, and I just thought of you.” He stumbled through words with a smile. You turned and placed the flowers and the bag on a console in the foyer of the house unboxing it all. Inside was a mini red Dior lady dior, classic, chic, and unmistakably something you loved on sight. Yes, this was very much so a perk of present day Trent. 

“Trent, I—” You looked up at him, stunned, your heart racing. But before you could finish, he interrupted with a cheeky smirk.

“One more thing… because well, in my opinion it matches and…”  As you took the next bag he was pushing towards you and began to open the other, you smirked with a furrowed brow. It wasn't any more designer, instead something priceless. You pulled out a familiar red top you had just seen Trent wearing on the telly during his match days ago. You smiled seeing a Liverpool Alexander-Arnold jersey. One of his own. “If you ever want to wear one,” he said, his eyes softening. “I’d prefer it if it was mine. Because you know… you’re kind of mine.” The words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You ran your fingers over the bold name and number on the back, biting back a giddy smile. 

“This is… wow, are you sure, baby, It’s a pretty big statement.” you teased, glancing up at him. He stepped closer, his eyes serious, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I mean it.  You’re… You’re so important to me, Y/N.” That moment felt like a declaration all on its own, leaving you feeling lighter and less uncertain, ready to see where this might possibly go.  That maybe it wasn’t all just for behind closed doors. The gift in your hands felt weighty, more than just fabric or leather—it felt like a quiet promise. “I always liked when you were at the park watching me play growing up, and I really like it when you’re at Anfield now watching me.” His words stuck you deep. Maybe he wasn’t just making it all up about having a crush on your growing up in the park. The way Trent looked at you, the softness in his eyes and the little, lingering smile on his lips, spoke volumes. You glanced down at the jersey again, fingertips tracing over the double barreled last name. This wasn’t just a shirt; it was a claim, a gesture that felt almost absurdly personal. He watched you closely, gauging every shift in your expression. His usual confident demeanor softened, almost vulnerable, as he waited for you to say something more. But words felt clumsy in that moment, so you took a small step forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly. Trent hugged you back, his hands gentle against your back, pulling you in like he was afraid to let go.

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you finally whispered into his shoulder, feeling both overwhelmed and elated. You pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “This is… it’s really thoughtful, T, baby.” He gave a little shrug, downplaying the significance. 

“Think about you a lot. I wish I could show you better. This is one way I guess.  And I just thought you’d look better in one mine, yeah?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed him. You could see the warmth, the intent behind this small collection of gifts. Grinning, you took the jersey holding it up between you. 

“So… I’m supposed to just wear this and be yours, huh?” You said with a smirk. His grin turned into a smirk. 

“That’s the idea,” he said, stepping in close, his hands finding your waist. “But only if you’re up for it.” You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t break his gaze. His fingers began to play with the hem of the shirt you currently had on. You didn’t expect your heart to stutter the way it did seeing him today. You looked down, biting your lip, feeling almost shy under his gaze. 

“And you’re sure?” you murmured, looking back up at him. He reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek, letting his fingers linger just a little longer against your skin. 

“I’ve known you too long not to be.” His voice was low, and there was a sincerity there that felt like a balm to every worry you’d been carrying. Without another word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, soft but intentional, letting yourself believe him. Trent’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, like he was anchoring himself to you. The kiss deepened, and you both sank into it, unhurried, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.  You finally pulled back from the kiss to really look at the jersey still in your hands. It wasn’t from a store it was very clearly one of his. He even had drawn a little heart, in only a way a boy would, but nevertheless cute, on the bottom of the white embossed  #66. The whole thing was incredibly sweet. 

“Guess I know what I’m wearing to the next match I go to. Someone just has to invite me.” You said with a teasing smile.

“You’re always invited but yeah, you better be wearing that,” he chuckled, his eyes shining. “I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna look perfect on you as well.” And with that, you felt some of your doubts fade, replaced by the excitement of whatever was waiting ahead and right now what was waiting was  thick sexual tension creeping in. As you held the soft fabric of the jersey, Trent's eyes sparkled with mischief. He stepped back into you once more, his muscular body radiating heat, planting a soft kiss on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His warm breath fanning your sensitive skin as he gently nibbled, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. Swiftly a moment that was meant to be sentimental, suddenly began to steam up. 

"Do you want me to try it on for you, baby?" you suggested, your voice a little hoarse with desire. Trent hummed in response, his lips still brushing against your skin as his fingers idley returned to play with the hem of your shirt. With a swift motion, he lifted the shirt you were already wearing over your head entirely exposing your bare torso, no bra. Your breath caught at the sudden rush of cool air on your heated skin. Trent's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your full tits, your nipples already hardening in anticipation.

"You look so fucking gorgeous all the fucking time, baby" he growled, his voice thick with want. His hands glided over your shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then slid down to cup your tits. He thumbed your nipples, rolling and pinching gently, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"I need you, T… now," you murmured before his lips found yours in a searing kiss. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and filled with passion. Different than before. Trent's tongue danced with yours, exploring and claiming, while his hands roamed freely over your body, mapping every curve and valley. He kneaded your boobs, squeezing and lifting them, making you moan into his mouth. You clung to him, running your fingers over his curls, pulling him closer as if you could merge your bodies into one. His erection pressing against your lower belly, a hard ridge that promised pleasure and satisfaction you’d come to know well but couldn’t get enough of. His hands moved to slide around you down to your ass, over it and then under. Breaking the kiss, Trent lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you upstairs, making sure to grab both of your tops in his hand, sparing any damning evidence. His strong arms never faltering as you giggled breathlessly nibbling on his ear lobe whispering the naughtiest things in his ear despite feeling like an innocent princess in his hold. And then like a shot gun signaling a start, your bedroom door clicked shut behind you. 

Trent laid you down on your soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. In a blur of passion, you found yourself on your bed, both of your clothes completely vanished now, your legs wrapped around Trent's strong waist again. He hovered above you, his body a delicious weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against you. His eyes, dark and intense, holding yours captive, and you knew in that moment it truly felt like you were his. The dominant glint in his eyes sent a thrill through your body, making you ache to surrender completely.

“Tell me what you want.” He cooed almost tauntingly.  Trent's voice was a low rumble, filled with desire and possession as he whispered above you leaning in to begin leaving kisses from behind your ear down your jaw. You didn’t answer you just nodded eagerly, giving him permission, your eyes pleading for him to take control. And he did. He pressed his lips to yours as his fingers trailed down your body, tracing your curves, before slipping between your thighs and  through your pussy’s wet folds.  “Such a messy girl. You're so always so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. You were already soaked, your arousal glistening on your sensitive folds. Trent's touch was like a lightning bolt, igniting a fire within you. “Tell me what you want.” He demanded again and it started a fire in you, igniting something carnal. You whined and when he teased his fingers around your clit. 

"You, T, fuck… I want you," you whimpered as he stroked your clit, his touch feather-light but intensely pleasurable. His fingers dipped lower, finding your entrance and pushing inside, filling you with a delicious stretch. You gasped as you felt him slip two fingers all the way inside of you with a curl. He smirked watching your face scrunch up from the intrusion. You arched off your bed, seeking more, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. "Please, baby" you begged, your voice breathy and desperate. "I need you inside me. I want your cock, T." He grinned down at you, his eyes alight with possessiveness.  “I want you to be rough, T.” You whined desperate for him to just use you. 

"You want me to be rough with you? You like that don't you, baby?" He mocked in the hottest way. You reached out towards him, dragging your hand down his abs before wrapping your hand around his hard shaft. You pumped his cock with your spit mixed with his leaking precum,l. He pulled his fingers out of you swiftly. His one hand laced his fingers with yours pinning your hands above your head, the other tapping his cock against your clit, dragging it through your fold’s teasingly.  Neither of you had the patience for more foreplay. You needed him inside of you now and he was giving you just that.  His big brown eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier and heavier. “You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, hmm?” His words send a thrill through you, a heady combination of desire and submission. You nod eagerly, your eyes locked on his.

"Yeah" you whispered. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hands moving to grip your hip firmly. You felt the broad head of his cock nudging at your entrance before he thrusted forward, filling you in one smooth stroke."Oh, God!" you cried out, your body welcoming him with a delicious tightness. Your hands broke out of his and grabbed to hold him. Your nails digging into his back muscles as he slid inside of you. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp. He rocked into you. Trent’s cock stretched you deliciously hitting the spot only he knew immediately. 

“Doing so good f’me, baby. Take my cock so well. You okay?” He asked gently as he flicked his eyes to yours. You nodded with a shy smile as he pulled back out just barely, leaving just the tip in. With a growl, he thrusted into you again, filling you so completely that you gasped once over. His cock, hard and throbbing, stretching you to the limit, and you loved every second of it. The sensation of being so full, so possessed, sent sparks of pleasure through your body. He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes. Your bodies creating a sensual rhythm, the squelching sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the room. Trent's jaw clenched, his eyes hooded as he watched his cock disappear into your slick heat.

"You feel so fucking good," you moaned, your breath coming in short gasps. "Feel so deep. Oh my god." You whined. You inhaled a sharp breath feeling a lightheadedness come over as you took him.  He kept his beautiful brown eyes fixed on you. The pupils in his dark eyes dilated as he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing you whine. You were completely his and he reveled in it. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was so gentle yet harsh at the same time. Trent’s hand slid up your body and wrapped around your neck gently but assertively causing the knot in your core to tighten as you moaned more.   

"Whose pussy is this?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with need. 

"Yours, Trent," you whispered, your voice breathless. "Only yours." He quickened his pace, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, driving into you relentlessly. Your tits, full and heavy, bounced with each movement, the sensitive peaks grazing his chest, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. He let go of your neck and leaned back a little. Trent's hands moving to grip your thighs, holding your legs wide open, exposing you completely to his gaze and touch. 

"God, fuck. You're so fucking wet, baby," he growled, his eyes fixed on the junction where his cock disappeared into your body. "So good f’me." He praised you as you moaned, the explicit words and the sight of him pounding into your body pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands moved off him to clutch at the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you tried to anchor yourself against the force of his thrusts. The room continued to be filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your desperate moans, and Trent's dirty words. Trent could feel your pussy clenching tighter, he knew you were close. 

"Tell me, baby, whose cock are you gonna cum on right now?" Trent's voice was rough but smug, his face a mask of pure desire and self satisfaction.

"Yours, T," you panted, your voice thick with pleasure. “I want to cum on your cock." Your eyes rolling back as you felt the climax building. "I'll only ever cum on your cock, T." Your words seemed to unleash something primal within him. His eyes lit with possession. His hips pistoned faster, his cock pounding into your sensitive flesh. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, his cock feeling harder inside of you, and the knowledge that he was close to his own release sent you spiraling towards your climax. The words you’d just said had tumbled out. And to be honest, you kind of hoped your commitment was true. You only ever wanted his dick… it was that good. You wrapped your legs stayed around his waist, drawing him even deeper, your hands moving to clutch at his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his tanned skin. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading, possessing. His hips never stoping their relentless motion, driving you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

"That's right, you're my good girl. Only cum f’me. Only gonna ever wear my jersey too, yeah?" he grunted the question, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded as the coil in your stomach tightened. Orgasmic bliss barrelling towards you."Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love my cock." His words were like a match to the kindling of your desire. His words pushed you over the precipice. Your body tensed every nerve ending singing as you soared into your climax. Trent's fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you into your climax, his own release building. And then in a split second just when the outside world couldn’t have seemed further away you heard the tracks of the garage door begin to open.

 "T!" you cried out, your voice high and desperate. The distant rumble of Jack returning home made your heart stop but you couldn’t stop your body’s orgasmic convulsions though. Your climax exploded through your body, rippling waves of pleasure that caused your back to arch and your pussy to clamp down on Trent’s cock. You cried out, your voice a mix of pleasure and surprise and panic, as your release washed over you, the waves of pleasure so intense they left you trembling. Trent's name was a mantra on your lips you were trying to bite back as you rode the waves of ecstasy but it was all mixed with genuine fear. “T… T.. fuck!” You yelped,  your hands moving to press against his chest to push him off. He didn’t hear the garage, he was locked in. You knew he was about to cum. “Trent!” You yelped just as his body tensed above you. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a guttural grunt, his hips making one final, powerful thrust as he filled you with his release. “Jack! Trent!” You told him. Trent had never had a more conflicting climax in his life. Panic, euphoria, and disgust hearing his mates name while he finished all at once. Trent's eyes widened, and he froze, his cock still buried deep within you. His release leaking inside you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched your own. The sensation of his hot cum inside you sent you over the edge again, a second orgasm washing over you, leaving you boneless and sated, Trent fighting back a groan as you tightened around him once more. Panting, your bodies glistening with sweat, you clung to each other, hearts racing but you needed to move. Now. The sudden realization that you were both naked and exposed snapped you back to the present. Anxiety flared in your chest as you scrambled to get Trent off you and find your clothes, your heart pounding. This was it. Jack was going to find out. 

"Shit," Trent cursed, quickly reaching for his boxers. "Your brother... we need to get downstairs." He instructed you. The urgency in his voice mirrored your own racing thoughts. You frantically searched for your clothes, scattered across the room. In a mad dash, you pulled on your panties and scrambled to find everything, while Trent hastily pulled on his trousers. The heat of the moment had turned into a frantic race against time. The sound of Jack’s arrival sent you both into a scramble, grabbing at clothes, fumbling with buttons, zipper, shirts pulled over heads, doing whatever you could to look convincingly casual. 

“Fuck, fuck!” you yelled in a whisper,  heart pounding as you clutched the sides of your shirt, tugging it over your head, trying to compose yourself. You shot Trent a panicked look.  Tears forming on your lash line. 

“Baby… Baby… we’ll be okay. You’re okay. C’mon.” He kissed your forehead before helping adjust your top. The slam of the door into the house had sent you and Trent into an even more panicked frenzy as you scrambled to not look like you just fucked. 

“My car,” Trent hissed almost to himself, eyes wide, realizing that leaving his car in the driveway was like leaving a neon sign that he was there.

“He’s going to see it…” You glanced at him, panicked. There was no hiding now. With your pulse racing, you tried to look as normal as possible, grabbing the closest thing you could find to play off a casual visit—a charger tangled near your bed. The two of you locked eyes, a silent agreement that this was your cover story.  You nodded back before you ran down the stairs just as Jack came through the other side of the house. Thank god the staircase up to your room was at the opposite end. You could hear Jack’s footsteps making his way towards you two as you made it downstairs. When he saw you and Trent his eyebrows raised, but he was relaxed enough. 

“Aye, mate, what’s up?” he asked, looking from Trent to you and back again. Jack looked at Trent with a faintly furrowed brow. Trent plastered on a relaxed smile, putting on his most casual tone.

“Yeah, good bro. Sorry, ah…left my phone charger here last time,” he replied smoothly, nodding toward the one you were now holding out like a lifeline. You forced a smile, trying to seem casual. Jack’s gaze lingered on you for a second, his expression skeptical. 

“So…” Jack’s tone held a playful curiosity. “You knew I wasn’t home?” Trent shrugged. 

“Yeah, bro, only a charger so I didn’t want to nag you about it,” he said, as you casually waving the charger like it was some grand prize he’d finally retrieve. “Y/N was just letting me grab it real quick.” You handed Trent the charger, feeling Jack’s gaze on both of you. Trent took it with a casual ‘Thanks,’ stuffing it into his pocket as if it had been his all along. You were mildly annoyed you were losing a charger but that was the least of your worries “Just thought I’d pop in, grab it, and head out.” Jack stared for a moment longer, lips curving into a smirk as he finally dropped his gaze. 

“Right… sound.” he chuckled.  Trent laughed, playing along, and you couldn’t help but join in, trying to mask your own nerves. Jack looked between you both, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite read but it was more confusion at the energy in the room than a hint of suspicion. But he just laughed, shrugging it off as Trent left. Trent still managed to give you a tiny, playful wink before slipping out, leaving your mind reeling.

“He’s so weird.” Jack teased you, still watching Trent get in his car. “Man makes millions and he’s pressed about a charger.” You let out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to play it cool. You felt Jack’s arm wrap around your shoulder in a lighthearted squeeze, and he shot you a teasing grin.

“Nah, he’s just… Trent… mindful, maybe?” you managed, trying to fill the silence and maybe convince both Jack and yourself. Jack smirked, shaking his head. Your heart was still racing but at least Trent had remained calm. 

“Yeah, well, you were probably just gassed you got his attention alone for five minutes.” He laughed, punching at your arm as he passed you. You forced yourself to chuckle, hoping the nervous energy vibrating through you wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Jack’s teasing had hit closer to home than he knew, and as you watched Trent’s car pull away from the driveway, you felt a mix of thrill and relief. The cover story might’ve worked, but the spark between you two? That was only getting harder to hide.

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes, trying to sound nonchalant as you looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You laughed, a little too loudly, hoping it came off as amused and not as a frantic release of tension.  Jack gave a little shrug, seemingly satisfied. 

“Just saying, you love Trenty.” He laughed teasingly but you didn’t. Not this time. “Y/N… I’m kidding. I know he’s your mate too. Relax. He came for a charger, innit. I’m joking. Sorry.” He looked at you apologetically, mildly confused why a tease about you have a crush on Trent hit so differently than before. He always poked fun but your vibe felt weird. He opted to just  let it roll off his back, moving on and turned, remaining oblivious as he headed to the kitchen. Meanwhile you were left with a stomach full of butterflies, lined with guilt  and a heart still pounding from the close call. Watching Trent drive away, you felt an undeniable thrill mixed with something deeper, something that had you feeling torn between excitement and culpability. The cover story had worked for now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping this secret would only get harder with time.

Sneaking around with Trent had quickly transformed into something more, something you felt deep in your bones. The thrill was undeniable, yet the way you kept finding yourself drawn back to him made it feel like it wasn't just about the thrill anymore. After Jack almost catching you, it just felt like you both actually thought what you were doing might’ve been worth it. Tonight felt like a step closer to something real, though the secrecy only intensified it. You'd told Jack you'd be staying over at Layla's, a lie that sat heavy, but the promise of a night with Trent made it worth it. When you arrived at his place, Trent's smile greeted you at the door, warm and familiar, and immediately, you felt all that tension melt away. He led you out to the back garden, where he had set up a cozy space just for the two of you. Blankets were draped over the outdoor couch on the patio, and the fire pit cast a gentle, golden glow. Jazz murmured softly from a speaker, blending perfectly with the low hum of the night, creating a sense of comfort that felt more intimate than you'd expected. The whole setup seemed to say: I wanted this to feel special. You nestled into the couch beside him, sharing the same blanket as the fire flickered, warming your faces. Trent leaned back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the other hand resting on your knee, and you felt yourself relaxing against him as if this was exactly where you belonged.

Although, it wasn't long though before he suggested a game of cards, his competitive spirit sparking in his eyes. You moved to sit cross-legged on the couch, turning to face him as you dealt the cards. Trent sat back, legs spread, confidence written across his face. But as the game went on and the tide turned in your favor, his expression shifted. He huffed when you won a hand, mumbling something about beginner's luck, but you could tell he was getting flustered. When you won again, his pout turned into a grin full of mischief.

"Nah, not having this. C'mon, there's no way you're this lucky," he teased, snatching the cards from your hand before pulling you into his lap, his hands snaking around your waist.

"Maybe I'm just better at it than you," you quipped, knowing it would get under his skin. He narrowed his eyes, pretending to look insulted but deep down you knew he hated hearing it, joke or not.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh?" he murmured before leaning in, his teeth grazing your neck in a playful nibble, a cross between a kiss and bite as his hands gripped you tighter. You squirmed, laughing, trying to wriggle free, but he was stronger than you and wouldn't let you go.

"Just admit I won," you teased, breathless from laughing, glancing up at him with a triumphant smile.

"Not a chance," he whispered, voice low as his face hovered inches from yours, his eyes full of that look that made your pulse race. "The game's postponed. We'll settle it later." He said deciding he just wanted to be with you for the moment, no games. He let his hold on you loosen, and you rolled your eyes with a grin. 

"Whatever you want, baby." You murmured, your voice warm and teasing. He stilled, his gaze softening as he took you in, as if hearing you calling him ‘baby’ for the first time. Colloquially. The look in his eyes made your stomach flip, a moment of quiet that felt far more intimate than any kiss or touch. With a hum of satisfaction, he pulled you in closer, one hand tracing down your back.

"I like the sound of that." His fingers gently pressed into your skin, grounding you in that moment, and his other hand reached up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You stayed wrapped up together, letting the night carry you in the warmth of each other's presence. Hours passed without notice, the jazz lulling softly in the background as you nestled closer, feeling his hand rest securely around you. His touch was soft, comforting, as if to say he wasn't in any rush to let go. The stars were bright overhead, and the crackling flames cast shadows over his face. Trent looked at you with a rare openness, a softness that made your chest ache in the best way. He pressed a kiss to your hair, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on you. You rested your head against his shoulder, your legs curled over his lap, feeling the strength of his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Every so often, he'd lean down, brushing his lips against your temple or whispering something sweet that made your heart stutter. It felt like you were existing in your own little world, a pocket of warmth and comfort that was just for the two of you. The night stretched on, but neither of you felt any rush to move or break the spell. This wasn't just a thrill, or a secret-you could feel the weight of something genuine growing between you, something you were both beginning to understand couldn't be hidden forever.

Settling into Trent’s bed that night felt surreal—soft sheets, plush pillows, and the faint scent of him in the air made it feel luxurious, almost like a dream. Yet, there was that small tug of something missing, a sense of feeling a bit out of place amidst the perfection. You liked your routine, your things, that’s all. This was well,  it was his bed, his room, his world. You didn’t quite realize how it showed until Trent, lying beside you with a gentle smile, noticed it.

“I can tell you’re uncomfortable. What’s up?” he asked, his gaze soft but curious. You shook your head with a half-hearted laugh, trying to dismiss it. 

“I’m not uncomfortable… I just…” you trailed off, unable to find the words. But he shook his head, unconvinced. 

“Nah, baby, c’mon,” he coaxed, “alright. Tell me what you usually do before bed.” He rolled over and looked at you with a smile. At that, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Okay, so,” you started, tucking your hair behind your ear as you settled into explaining shuffling in the sheets.. “First thing’s first: I have to take off all my makeup. But that means using an oil cleanser first because it breaks everything down— mascara, everything. Then I use a second cleanser to really clean my skin. It’s called double cleansing.” You giggled as Trent nodded with a raised eyebrow, trying not to smile. 

“Double cleansing?” he echoed. “More than once seems like….” You widened your eyes silently asking to finish and continued on. 

“Trust me, it makes a difference because some of us don’t just wake up moisturize and go.” You teased and he rolled his eyes swiping his thumb over his cheekbone as if to show off his perfect skin. “But then I have to pat my face dry with specific towels or like disposable ones, you know? Like I can’t just be rubbing whatever to dry.” He leaned back, clearly amused but listening intently. You were pretty sure he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. 

“Okay, what’s next?” he asked, a playful grin on his face.

“Then it’s skincare time,” you declared. “I use a toner first.” Trent nodded but you knew he probably didn’t know what that meant. “After that, I have a few serums. Then… ” You cooed but Trent interjected. 

“A few!?” Trent’s eyes widened slightly. It was becoming evidently more and more clear he did not have a sister. A part of you laughed that you never realized how deep that fact ran and then a part of you felt a bit relieved this was the first time he seemed to be hearing this. The idea that any girl that had come before you had yet to explain this to him. 

“Yeah then we move to like eye creams, moisturizers next,” you explained and continued to rattle on with more. He looked impressed and bewildered at the same time. 

“That’s… a lot,” he said, but there was a note of affection in his voice that made you smile.

“And we’re not even done!” you pointed out. “After the skincare, I do my hair care. Apply some products for hydration. Oh and silk pillowcases are a must for both skin and hair. They’re gentler and prevent breakage.” Trent’s eyes sparkled with humor, but he nodded as if taking mental notes. 

“Alright, so we’ve got skin and hair. Anything else?” He smirked almost assuming you were done. 

“Obviously,” you said, feigning indignation. “Then I have to set up my room. I spray a lavender sleep mist onto my bed to help me relax, and I take my nighttime supplements—magnesium, a sleep aid if I need it, maybe some collagen.” You explained.

“Supplements too?” he repeated, clearly finding all of this fascinating. He had routines but it was more for optimizing performance and in a way you were doing just the same.

“Yep. And then I need like wattterrrs,” you explained dragging out the word, feeling more animated as you talked. “And sometimes, if I’m feeling really stressed, I’ll do a short guided meditation before bed. Just five to ten minutes to clear my mind.” Trent was leaning forward now, his chin resting in his hands grinning ear to ear. Trent started laughing, eyes wide with disbelief. 

“That’s like 15 steps, baby!” he exclaimed, shaking his head as if you’d told him the most extravagant bedtime routine on earth and maybe you had in his mind. You laughed along, shrugging. 

“Hey, you asked! Besides, don’t pretend you’re not just as high maintenance with all your Byredo lotions over there.” You smirked, nodding toward the sleek row of bottles lined on the counter in the ensuite. He rolled his eyes, giving a mock scoff. 

“Alright, alright… but that’s… that’s quite the process,” he said, his voice laced with teasing affection. “You really do all that every night?” You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended. 

“I mean I try to every single night! It’s called self-care, T. There’s more out there than just what the club tells you to do. You should try my routine sometime.”  You giggled teasing him. You knew he took really good care of himself but when it came to beauty he was more relaxed. He laughed, the sound filling the room.

“I don’t think I could handle all of that.” He smirked.  You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the compliment. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Even if he didn’t fully understand each step, he was there, listening and appreciating the lengths you went to for your own well-being. And that made you feel seen in a way that was hard to explain. Still smiling, he grabbed his phone, opening his notes app. “Okay, baby… give me the names and brands. Everything you need for sleeping here.” Your heart fluttered at the gesture, so thoughtful and unexpected. You began listing each product, and he typed them with an almost serious focus, nodding as if he were taking notes on a game plan; Slip pillow cases, Tata Harper cleansers, Maison Francis mists, a 14th Night Hair Elixir. 

“You don’t actually have to do all this,” you murmured, feeling almost shy. But his hand found yours, and he squeezed it gently.

“I want you to feel comfortable here,” he said softly, looking at you with that easy, open sincerity. “Besides, if it’s gonna make you sleep better, then it’s worth it. Keeps you in my bed.” He cheekily cooed. The thoughtfulness left you feeling a mix of warmth and gratitude, a sense of belonging that surprised you. And as much as you adored the idea of your favorite products sitting in his bathroom, what you loved even more was this—him, making space for you in his world, in his home. It also felt nice to know it’d be like a warning should any other girl be over. This was your marking your territory.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Honestly, though… all I really need to feel at home is you.” He smiled, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you. 

“You’ve always felt like home to me.” He whispered back to you. Both of your admissions honest. The room was calm, the dim light casting soft shadows, and Trent’s fingers lazily traced patterns along your arm as you both settled into the cozy rhythm of conversation. The hum of street lights outside mixed with the soft rustling of sheets, making the entire moment feel even more intimate. Even after Trent finished noting down your list, he looked over with a smirk, still visibly amused by the whole process.  “So, am I missing anything? Or do we need to add a couple more things for this routine?”

“Oh, don’t even start,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “You wouldn’t understand—it’s just habitual; it’s so I can look pretty.” You batted your eyes at him. He laughed, tipping his head back, the sound warm and rich. 

“Well… you always look beautiful. Don’t think you need all this but, consider me converted if it makes you happy,” he said, miming a solemn vow. “But seriously, I’ll get it, alright? It’s not just about making you feel at home—it’s about you being at home here, whenever you want.” The sincerity in his words made your cheeks warm. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like for this to be your regular night: no need to pack an overnight bag, no sneaking in and out, just… this, every night. You snuggled deeper into his embrace, the weight of his arm draped protectively around you making everything feel somehow complete. He noticed the pensive look on your face and tilted his head, studying you. “What’re you thinking about?”

“It’s just… weird, you know? I didn’t expect it to feel this comfortable here.” You hesitated, then smiled softly. “I thought it would feel… wrong.” He ran his hand gently up and down your back, pulling you even closer. It was wrong. It was wrong what you were doing to Jack, but this? This felt very right. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But I also knew it’d be good. You and I have always been good. I want it to feel easy. Want you to feel like you don’t have to hide anything when we’re here or feel out of place here.” His voice was low, soothing, and he spoke as if he were letting you in on some quiet, long-held secret. He reached over, smoothing a strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering as he looked into your eyes with that calm, unwavering gaze of his. “I know we’re figuring things out, and it might be complicated but it doesn’t have to be here. We’re good here,” he said softly, his hand resting gently on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, heart beating a little faster. 

“You really mean that?” you whispered, almost afraid of his answer.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice steady. “I think we’re pretty damn good together.” He smirked. For a moment, the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, a warmth passing between you that felt equal parts thrilling and comforting. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and smiled, nestling closer to him.

“Okay,” you murmured, settling fully into the pillow beside him, letting his steady breathing and the soft glow of his gaze ground you. The weight of his arm around you felt like an anchor, keeping you steady even as your mind whirled with thoughts of what this meant, of what you meant to him. He pulled you even closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“So… really, pretty girl, any final steps in this ritual of yours? Any last ones?” he teased, breaking the quiet moment with a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, laughing. 

“Alright, alright, since you’re so curious… And I’m generous, I guess I could share the one I never even leave home without.” You reached over, awkwardly leaning to grab your lip balm you’d already moved to the nightstand earlier to have on hand. It was a lip balm you brought with you everywhere, so tonight was no different. It was a rich Hermes lip balm. Nothing made your lips feel more well-hydrated, supple or better than this. You applied a layer to your own lips before leaning in, catching him with a soft kiss that tasted faintly of beeswax.

“There, now you’re officially a part of my routine,” you said, grinning. He shook his head, still chuckling, his fingers tracing along your jaw as he pulled you in for another kiss. 

“If this is how the routine ends, I’m in.” And in that moment, with the warmth of his arms around you, the soft glow of the lights outside, and the quiet thrill of realizing just how natural this all felt, you let yourself settle fully into the moment. Trent leaned over you and grabbed the sleek tube again. “You think the lads would take the mick if I rolled around using Hermes lip balm? Because this actually feels so good.” He asked you earnestly. You smirked knowing the answer would likely be yes but you just hummed. 

“Does it? Or was it my kiss?” You teased. “Nah, you could use it though. If you’d want you can take this one. I’ll get another one.” You cooed, pressing your lips to his again. Trent nodded agreeing. And he did. You let him take it the next day. But that night you fell to sleep happy, lips moisturized, and all the worries and doubts fading into the background, leaving just you and him, here together, finding home in each other.

As you bounded down the stairs, practically buzzing with excitement, you were already mentally at Trent’s, imagining the quiet moments you’d get to have again, just the two of you for another night. You’d been doing this a lot. Hiding it all from everyone but reveling in the time tucked together. Your heart raced as you went through the plan in your head—another night wrapped up in his arms, laughing, teasing, letting everything else fall away. But Jack’s voice cut through your daydreams, grounding you in an instant.

“Hey, you headed out? Who’s the lucky lad now?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes studying you closely. Your heart skipped, a blend of panic and guilt washing over you. You were sure he’d started to suspect something, especially with all the time you’d been spending away. Swallowing hard, you tried for a casual response. You didn’t think he’d even be considering Trent, but it was clear you were spending a lot of time ‘out’ with someone. No matter, lying to Jack… Jack, your big brother, your best friend; though you’d never tell Layla that, it all felt so wrong. 

“Yeah, but I don’t want to jinx it, you know? Not yet,” you said with a soft smile, hoping he’d leave it at that. But Jack wasn’t one to let things slide easily. He just hummed, giving you a long, knowing look. Then, with a gentleness that caught you off guard, he spoke again. 

“Hey…” he started, and you could hear the tenderness in his voice. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” He sympathetically smiled. 

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, surprised

“I mean, there’s a light in you that I haven’t seen in a while. It’s good to see it again.” His eyes softened, a mix of pride and love filling his gaze. “I don’t know what this lad’s doing, but whatever it is, it’s bringing out the best in you. Look happier. Healthier.” A rush of emotion swelled in your chest, catching you off guard. The tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them, and you looked away, trying to compose yourself. Jack noticed, stepping forward and wrapping you in one of those big, protective hugs he was so good at. You felt the familiar strength of his arms around you, his hand gently rubbing your back as he held you close. “I just want you happy,” he murmured into your hair, and the raw honesty in his voice almost broke you. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I told Mum and Dad I’d look out for you, you know?” His voice was low, laced with the memories and promises you both had carried for years. You felt horrible. You were lying. Why were you lying? “I know I can be a pain sometimes, but… I don’t want you being with anyone that treats you like…” Jack tried to say it but he couldn’t. Jack was protective, loving but as communicative and close as you two were he just couldn’t stomach the idea of men treating you poorly so he couldn’t get the words out. “You deserve to be loved, to feel safe, that’s all.” Jack was the only place you felt safe since your mum passed. Your dad closed off and Jack stepped up. You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into you. There were times when a hug from Jack felt like it held everything you missed, everything you longed for—comfort, security, family. It was a rare, grounding feeling, and one that made you ache with a strange blend of gratitude and sadness. Pulling back just enough to look at you, Jack brushed his hand over your cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “Maybe we go to Sefton Park sometime soon?” he suggested. “Just us, like old times. Feels like we’re missing each other lately. Never see you.” He smiled softly and it made your heart ache. The weight of his words settled in your chest, and you managed a nod, blinking back the tears that had filled your eyes. You felt his arm tighten around you for a second, and he chuckled softly. “And… maybe one day you can introduce me to this fella. He seems alright, if he’s making you this happy.” His words hit harder than you expected, the guilt flaring up in your chest as you forced a smile. 

“Yeah… maybe.” You sheepishly told him feeling nauseous at the idea that Jack knew this ‘fella’ better than he probably ever wanted to.  Jack gave you a gentle squeeze, reaching to teasingly pull on the ends of your hair like he used to when you were kids. 

“Alright, go on then. Don’t keep him waiting. Don’t fuck it up now.” He winked, letting you go, but the warmth in his eyes stayed with you. As you walked to the door, your heart hurt, the weight of your secret feeling heavier with each step. The excitement of seeing Trent was still there, humming in the back of your mind, but Jack’s words lingered. You felt torn, a part of you wanting to spill everything to your brother, to let him see the whole truth. But as you got outside, you forced yourself to push it all away. For now, you just wanted to hold onto the happiness Jack had seen in you. You wanted to be with Trent, to laugh, to feel that lightness and warmth without the shadow of guilt hanging over you. And even if it was only for a night, you let yourself believe that was enough.

When morning rolled in, you were tucked into the sheets, the soft weight of the comforter keeping you warm as you dozed off, half-conscious of Trent beside you. The light filtered in through the blinds, illuminating the room in a golden haze, and you felt a deep contentment, drifting in that hazy, relaxed state between sleep and wakefulness. But then you felt the bed shift as Trent sat up more. You looked around Trent’s room, feeling oddly out of place though, despite how many times you had now woken up tangled in his sheets, wrapped up in the ease and warmth he offered. Today, though, it felt different. Your lies seeping in the warmth.  The room, with its familiar scent of him, his things strewn about casually, almost felt like a stage where you were playing a part you couldn’t reveal. It was strange, bittersweet, this cozy little world of yours that felt so real here but that would eventually dissolve the moment you stepped back into your life with Jack.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured, blinking up at him, a sleepy smile spreading across your face trying to be present and not get lost in your thoughts. You scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and nestling into him. He gave a soft chuckle, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Hi, pretty girl.” He leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, I need you to stay in bed for me for a bit, yeah?” he said, his tone gentle but somehow cautious. You raised an eyebrow, pulling back to look at him more closely, half-expecting it to be some cheeky invitation. 

“Stay in bed?” you teased, smiling as you placed a playful kiss on his chest. But then he spoke again, and you caught the slight edge in his voice.

“Yeah, erm… Jack’s popping over,” he said, watching you carefully. It was like a cold wave washed over you, jolting you fully awake. You immediately pushed yourself up, heart racing. 

“Wait—what?” You scrambled, trying to pull yourself together, suddenly very aware that you were in Trent’s bed, in his house, wearing only his shirt. Trent had forgotten Jack was swinging by today until he got the text moments ago reminding him. He had promised he’d donate a pair of signed boots or something for Jack’s company to auction off for charity and today… he was coming to pick them up. 

“I forgot. Honest. It’ll be alright though.” He tried to tell you. This could not keep happening. You couldn’t tell which situation was worse. Jack finding out the other day - Trent was fucking you at your house, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to be there… Or Jack finding out now - You weren’t having sex as he came over but there was zero reason for you to be at Trent’s this early. There would be no excuse. You couldn’t keep lying to Jack this was eating you up. One mildly redeeming thought popped into your head – thankfully, your car was in Trent’s garage out of sight. It was tucked away though because Trent told you, you needed to take better care of it and can’t just leave it out all the time but still your anxiety was spiking.  

“T, then I have to leave!” you hissed, frantically looking around for how you could possibly grab all your things in time. You could already feel the guilt bubbling up inside, imagining Jack’s reaction if he walked in and found you here. But Trent just reached out, gently tugging you back, his arms wrapping around you, grounding you.

“Hey, hey. Relax, yeah? Just stay here. He’s not coming up into my bed,” he murmured, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’ll be five minutes. He’s just coming by to pick something up. Quick, in and out. We’ll be okay.”  You looked up at him, worried, still tense. 

“Trent…” you began, but he only gave you a soft, reassuring smile, his eyes full of that easy confidence he always seemed to carry.

“Please. Just stay here. It’ll be okay,” he murmured, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that you could never say no to. You sighed, settling back into his embrace, heart still hammering as you heard Jack’s car pull up outside. To be fair, it made more sense for you to hide but it felt even more shameful to do. Part of you wanted to pull the covers over your head, to hide and pretend this wasn’t happening. Instead, you sat tensely in bed, listening as Trent slipped downstairs, his voice echoing faintly as he greeted Jack. You could hear their friendly banter, and it twisted your stomach with guilt. You knew it was wrong to keep this from Jack, but the thought of losing these moments with Trent was just as hard. 

You sat there, still, hands nervously fidgeting as you heard their voices drifting up from downstairs. Jack’s laughter mixed with Trent’s lighter chuckle, and it churned something inside you—a pang of guilt mixed with a longing for this to be simpler, to be something you could share without worry. But for now, the thrill of sneaking around was overshadowed by the weight of keeping this secret from Jack, from the one person who’d seen you through everything, helped you through everything. But still, hearing Jack’s voice below reminded you of the stakes, of how much you valued him, his trust, and how deeply you felt the need to protect this secret with Trent—even if it meant bending the truth. You picked at the hem of Trent’s shirt, which felt soft and familiar against your skin. There was something comforting in wearing a part of him, yet it also made everything feel painfully real. This wasn’t just some fling. You knew it every time you looked into Trent’s eyes, every time he pulled you into his arms like he didn’t want to let go. And then you heard the front door close,  there was silence for a little while until footsteps came up the stairs breaking it. You held your breath, half-wishing you could vanish into the walls. When Trent finally walked back in, you met his gaze, searching his face for some reassurance that you weren’t just imagining this, that he understood the complicated feelings swirling inside you. When Trent came back into the room, you’d moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his shirt still draped over you, your hands fidgeting nervously, his face softening as he noticed the tension in your posture. He gave you a soft smile, walking over and tilting your chin up so you’d meet his eyes.

“Hey. All good, yeah?” he murmured, his voice gentle. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, and you let yourself breathe again, slowly, finding comfort in his touch. You nodded, exhaling as you managed a small smile, letting yourself relax into him. 

“I just… I hate lying to him, Trent. It feels so messed up.” You let out a shaky breath, relief mingling with guilt. Trent knelt down in front of you, his hands finding yours. 

“I know, and I get it,” he said softly, his thumbs tracing slow circles on your skin. “But it’s just us right now. And whatever this is,” he squeezed your hands, “I want it to be ours before it’s anyone else’s. Jack will understand that.” His words settled over you like a warm blanket, grounding you in the certainty you felt with him. The guilt didn’t completely vanish, but his reassurance made it bearable, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could navigate this without losing what mattered. “You okay?” he asked, his gaze unwavering, full of that soft patience he always seemed to have for you. He came and sat on the bed with you. Keeping a cautious distance not wanting to overwhelm you but a gentle open hand close ready to hold yours if you wanted it.  You sat across from Trent, fingers nervously fidgeting in your lap, your gaze low as you struggled to put words to the feeling that had been building up inside.

 “I just… I feel so guilty, lying to Jack all the time. T, it’s fucked,” you whispered repeating it once over, barely able to meet Trent’s eyes. Trent’s expression softened, and he took your hands in his, his touch grounding. 

“I know,” he murmured, squeezing your hands gently. “I feel it too. But it’s like… I can’t let this go. I can’t let you go. It’s… “ He paused momentarily, grappling with this almost as much as you. “It’s hard to feel like we can have both.” He cooed. You looked up at him, eyes searching his for something, maybe an answer, but all you found was a mirrored sense of conflict. 

“I want this,” you admitted, your voice a little choked. “I want you. But I don’t know how to make it work. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, terrified of falling in either direction.” You sniffled, trying to keep your emotions in check. He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze intense, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted one of your hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hide us either, but I also don’t want to put you in the middle.” The two of you sat there, wrapped in a silence that felt heavy, a quiet admission of the fears you shared but couldn’t quite voice. You could feel the ache in your chest intensify, a lump rising in your throat as the weight of it pressed on you. You blinked, feeling a tear slip free despite your attempts to keep it together. Trent’s gaze softened immediately. “Hey, baby” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush the tear from your cheek. “Are you alright?” he asked, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. “Talk to me. I know this is a lot.” You tried to smile, to reassure him, but it faltered, and instead, more tears followed, spilling over as you let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling raw, exposed. “It’s just… Jack’s all I have. And I’m terrified that by being with you, by hiding this from him, I’m going to somehow lose both of you.” Your voice broke, and you quickly wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed by your own vulnerability. Trent’s expression shifted, a deep sympathy filling his eyes as he moved closer, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you up tightly, holding you like he could somehow protect you from all the things that felt like they were slipping away.

“You could never lose me,” he whispered, his voice steady, almost as if he was willing it to be true, willing it to ease the fear in your heart. You leaned into him, feeling his arms around you, his steady presence a balm to the ache that had been building. But the silence that followed his words weighed heavily, filled with all the things neither of you could find a way to say. You let out a shaky breath, burying your face in his shoulder, feeling both comforted and conflicted in his embrace. After a moment, Trent pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re all I think about,” he said softly, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart ache in a different way. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose, and I don’t want you to feel alone in this.” You nodded, but the weight of the situation lingered. A part of you wanted so badly to believe that his reassurance was enough, that you wouldn’t have to choose, that you could keep this connection with Trent without losing your relationship with Jack. But doubt gnawed at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were balancing on a thin line, one misstep away from losing it all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Trent tilted your chin up, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “You’ll never lose me, no matter what happens” he repeated softly, his words a gentle promise. But something about the quiet that followed felt almost uncertain, as if he, too, knew how fragile everything was. Neither of you knew what would come next, and as he held you, the silence stretched, filled with both comfort and unspoken fears.In that moment, you held on tighter, hoping it would be enough to keep things from unraveling.

“Okay.” You nodded, managing a small smile as you squeezed his hands back. He smiled, his eyes brightening as he pulled you to your feet and into his arms. 

“Always, always, always” he murmured against your hair, between kisses, holding you close as you melted into him. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in his arms, finding strength in his steady heartbeat, letting yourself believe that somehow, everything would work out. While your brain was spiraling, Trent’s heart hurt just the same. He felt like a scumbag for lying to Jack, for being with you. But he also felt like for the first time he was properly falling for you, getting to know you in a way he’d always longed for.  He couldn’t just throw it all away now, now that  he had a taste. He was putting up a good front though holding you, telling you it was fine. It was hard, but fine, but he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t saying that to himself even more. He wasn’t sure he could stomach a fall out with you or Jack. 

One afternoon after things stayed as they were, Trent casually reached into his pocket, pulling out the sleek little tube of lip balm, twisting it open with the practiced ease of someone who’d clearly used it more than a few times. He applied a quick swipe to his lips, completely unaware of the attention it was drawing. Noah noticed first, his brows raising in surprise before he nudged Jack, nodding subtly toward Trent. Jack caught sight of the lip balm and immediately burst into laughter. 

“Bro…” he said, still chuckling, “pretty sure my sister uses that shit.”

“Yeah? What about it?” Trent glanced over, unbothered. Noah shook his head, grinning. 

“Mate, good thing you’ve got that contract lined up. What’re you doing spending pounds on… what is that? Lipstick? ‘Cause it isn’t Nivia innit?” he teased, exaggerating. Trent rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“First off, it’s a balm. Second, it’s moisturizing, and it’s not shiny or anything, so you lot can calm down.” Noah and Jack exchanged a look, both stifling laughs. 

“Alright, alright, Pretty Boy,” Jack teased, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Just saying, Y/N buying Hermes chapstick is one thing… You? That’s mad.” Noah laughed. Unphased, Trent shrugged, narrowing his gaze on him.

“You ever see Y/N’s lips looking dry?” He held up the balm, grinning. Noah shook his head.  

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly looking, am I?” Noah chuckled, clearly having fun with it. Trent just shrugged again, refusing to give them the satisfaction of riling him up. 

“Just saying,” he replied smoothly. “You can keep laughing, but I’m the one not walking around with dry lips. Yours could use a little help, mate,” he joked, nodding toward Noah, who chuckled. Jack shook his head, still laughing. 

“Alright, fair play,” Noah shot back, grinning. “But careful, next thing you’ll be raiding her entire collection.” Jack just laughed, shaking his head. 

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’re actually using the same shit as my sister.” Jack said. Trent smirked, tucking the balm back into his pocket with a satisfied look. 

“Gotta keep up, don’t I?” he replied, unbothered. “She knows what she’s doing.” Noah and Jack looked at each other knowingly queuing up a joke. Trent rolled his eyes, already sensing the teasing wouldn’t let up anytime soon. But he leaned back on the couch with a smirk thinking of you and your lips.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 7 xx

[callooopie]

Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. Smut)

— NSFW edition—

It can’t be unlearned. I’ve known the warmth of your doorways — It Will Come Back // Hozier

I haven’t written NSFW in a bit ~3~. Bear with me while I try not to blush and cringe at my own writing T~T (also that new episode.. rip MY queen Rhaenys dude. It actually made me so bummed it ruined my night.) Also do I still use the Benjicot tags or is he now his own character now that he’s been mentioned finally ~3~ ?!

cw— NSFW, smut detailed to the best of my abilities. Minors do not interact. Interact with this and I’ll punch you so hard your ancestors will feel it I’ll-

< added one (1) new headcannon since posting >

Cool, calm, confident. That’s what Davos was. Surely it would translate to the bedroom too—it does not. He’s shy the first time around. Very much. Silent, rigid; his eyes simply darting up and down your body as you undress in front of him. The only sign that he’s there in the head is his hands gripping the comforter in his fists tightly. Before you begin, please give him a few kisses and reassuring smiles. Sitting in his lap and doing so does wonders. Run your fingers through his hair in a calming manner too.

You might have to pause, because he’s genuinely trembling out of excitement and anticipation that he cannot concentrate or continue without calming down. He just loves your touch! Any touch, all touch. Your fingers grazing against his skin, it’s like nicotine. Press your nose against his, laugh softly and kindly against his lips, and tell him it’s alright—you can wait a minute. His hands (shaking slightly still) will find their way to your hips soon enough.

Before you two experience each other more often. Before ANY sexual encounters, with you or not with you. He is the type of guy… to not know where the clit is. It’s a sad truth. You have to sit him down and literally point to where it is. No pants, sitting on the bed with your legs spread. It’s not even sexual at this point, you’re just letting him ooo and ahh at your pussy as you tell him what feels good and how to make it feel good. A lesson in anatomy that has him going (“…really?!”). Don’t worry. He gets with the program right away. When he figures shit out you won’t ever let him leave the house ever again.

If he’s already on the more experienced side and/or after you’ve both gotten comfortable with one another after months or a couple years; he is a fiend, a menace. He wants his sheets drenched by the time you’re both done. He wants you passed out, unconscious. If you aren’t being carted off to the emergency room after sex he feels he isn’t doing it right.

Speaking of.. He has sent you to the ER before. A bruised cervix that sent searing pain whenever you walked, burning aches in your muscles and bones from being bent or pulled around that. It’s something that’s never happened before and worried you enough to make Davos drive you to the urgent care. Embarrassment and a hint of disbelief burned on your face as the doctor awkwardly told you your diagnoses, splitting their gaze between you and Davos. The latter had the biggest grin on his face as he sat there like an innocent man. His apologies are a farce don’t believe it.

Needs you to sit on his face. Dude gets off on eating you like you’re his last meal, and makes it messy too.. Doesn’t matter when (or where..) but if you are not straddling his head, laying her full weight onto him—that’s basically like breaking his heart. He wants to die by your thighs that’s his goal. He is the type to grab and scratch at your thighs, squeezing flesh as he tries to pull you closer to his lips and tongue. Sometimes his hand leaves your thigh to deal with his own hardened cock—muffled and incoherent whines leaving him as he devours you sloppily and breathlessly. If he’s eating you out while you’re laying on your back; he will be pathetically grinding against the mattress.

Suck him off under his desk. Quietly slip underneath the wooden desk, he’s too focused on whatever he’s doing to even notice you undoing the string of his sweats anyways. Once he dies in-game and looks down he gets the memo, silently helping you slide them off of him as he talks to his team. Whatever you do, do not drag your tongue up from his base to his tip—especially when he’s comming to his teammates. He’ll be talking normally and then let out a nearly pornographic whine. If you choose to not be a menace off the bat and simply slide his cock in and out of your mouth; he’ll go blank in the head. He starts to mess up, mouth going slack as he splits his attention between the game and you on your knees between his legs with your tongue wrapping around his tip and licking off whatever leaking pre-cum you find. It’s the fastest he’s ever won (or lost) a game.

It’s edge or be edged in his world. Loves it when you tell him he can’t cum. A sloppy half-grin plastered on his face as you ride him. His hands holding your hips as he sits up, looking up at you from where he places his head by your chin. He’s gonna bitch and moan about it as usual, but slowly devolves into loud begging. His speech is slurred as his eyes stare up at you like your god who has the power to grant him that divine release he’s been denied for an hour.

He loves fucking you against the wall. It gives him a reason to show off his arms and muscles—and it feels good. If you have comments about your weight, your body, how will he hold you up, etc. Leave ‘em at the door, Davos does not care. He goes to the gym for this reason baby! To be able to lift you easily and hold you against the apartment wall as he pounds into you. His hands digging into the skin of where your thighs and ass meet. Wrap your legs around his waist, tangle your fingers into his hair. You’re not leaving until there’s a puddle of your arousal and cum underneath you.

Switch. He’s a switch. Let the world (and himself) believes he’s a top, only you will know the truth. And the truth is that he loves when you take control. Tie him up, slap him around, ride him till he’s crying and drooling from either edging or overstimulation—and then keep going some more. But also remember that he can easily overpower you, pinning you down to the bed or against a wall as he thrusts in and out of you with loud groans and words of praise. His hand holds your head down as he fucks you from behind, fingers grasping onto your hair as he rambles in a pleasured high. Davos is the type to tear underwear too, so be careful about that as well..

Davos is gentle, Davos is rough. No matter what, he’s mean about it. And he’s very vocal about it too. He’ll ask if you’re enjoying yourself, if you’re liking how rough he’s fucking your cunt right now—speaking of.. can you hear how wet you are right now, it’s almost embarrassing no? Ohhh, you like being used by him? Well.. he likes your sloppy pussy too—don’t worry. Made just for him, all for him. If he’s gentle he asks if you’re doing okay between the soft kisses he places on your neck and face. His face will nuzzle against your neck, soft whispers of how you feel entering your ear between groans. You’re just a sweetheart after all, aren’t you? So soft, so good, just for him. He likes how you feel around him, how soft your skin feels under his hands. So beautiful, so cute. Don’t you like how you can feel all of him as he thrusts into you slowly? Can you feel every vein and ridge? ‘Cause he can feel every squeeze and shudder from your walls darling.

Biter. I’ve got him pinned—Davos is a biter. Bites at your nipples before swirling a tongue around them and sucking harshly. Licks your ear before biting and tugging on it. He’s a bastard and bites your clit, a low chuckle coming from him as you yelp (he kisses it after, of course). Hickeys line your skin from your neck to your lower abdomen. Bite marks, prominent bite marks, are scattered across your body. No matter what, it’ll be on your neck mostly as well. From the front or the back, a bite mark will find its way to your neck. He just gets so into it! Dicking you down so roughly he just needs to latch his teeth onto your skin hard enough to draw blood. What? No he did not lick the droplet of blood up you must be imagining—

…car sex—I’m sorry I said it. At night when you both are skating or if he’s driving around with you. Sometimes you just end up in an empty parking lot.. the windows are fogged up and there’s music playing faintly, not that you care or really hear it as you listen to his moans. His hands holding your hips or waist as you slowly bounce on his cock while he sits in the driver seat. Bonus if you hold the thin necklace he wears between your teeth as you grind yourself down onto him.

Added! HE’S INTO SHOTGUNNING. Absolutely, how did I forget such a thing. Happens when you’re riding him. It’s a lazy night; him sitting in a chair, a cigarette between his fingers as you moan and whimper loudly. His other hand remains on your ass, guiding you up and down as he lets his head fall back briefly with a low grunt from his throat. He sits back up to take a drag from the cigarette, his other hand moving up from your ass to the back of your head (he gives you a parting slap to your butt). He presses your face closer to his and you instinctively part your lips, letting him blow smoke into it. He does talk you through that like he’s talking you through your orgasm, soft words of encouragement and guidance as he watches you blow it back out. It ends in him kissing you and wrapping one arm tightly around your waist as he starts to thrust up into you roughly. “In.. and out.. atta girl. There we are. Aren’t you just a good listener, my lovely lady?”

[jaehaeryshater]

“Near the end, [King Jaehaerys] grew certain [Alicent] was his daughter Saera, returned to him from beyond the narrow sea.”

artist: @riotarttherite

I had the great pleasure of commissioning, in my opinion, one of ASOIAF fandom’s greatest artists on this gorgeous piece. I had never commissioned any artwork before and didn’t know what to expect, and this far exceeded my expectations. The attention to detail is beautiful and the overall piece conveys exactly what I was envisioning in my head, so I wanted to start off with a big thank you.

The idea for this art piece was originally a “what if” or AU where Saera either didn’t get caught at the brothel or was brought back from the Silent Sisters as was allegedly Jaehaerys’s plan (or if she had bonded with Balerion and gotten to stay! Would have loved that for her) so she stays in King’s Landing and becomes his caretaker in his old age instead of Alicent Hightower. As his daughter, she would have significantly more influence in being able to “speak for him” instead of a caretaker for another House, so although I do not take Saera as someone particularly obsessed with power, I do find it very interesting to imagine her deciding to cause chaos as the Old King’s mouthpiece. The streets of King’s Landing are burning as we speak! Even before Jaehaerys seemed to succumb to dementia, Saera did appear to have a strange influence over him, so once Alysanne passed away, it only makes sense that Saera would become the person in his ear. Not all that great for the smallfolk or even Lords of the realm, but great for drama and storylines. And Saera, of course! I’m sure she would have paraded everywhere, weighed down by jewelry and the finest wines. Perhaps she would have had a full menagerie, as she appeared to love animals. Definitely an elephant there somewhere.

As this piece was being worked on, however, I did think of a second meaning to the art that I also think is really neat. You could also view this as what Jaehaerys is seeing as Alicent is caring for him. He did believe her to be Saera in the end, as his mind was being lost. His Saera had come back to him, and although I do not like Jaehaerys and think he probably deserved worse, he most likely died happy at that thought, believing Saera was reading to him. So if you prefer to interpret this as viewing things through Jaehaerys’s mind, I welcome you because I love it at least equally to the first idea.

Lastly, the detailings are beautiful so I wanted to touch on them and give them the attention they deserve for the moment. I asked Riot to have a caring but sinister vibe, that she is caring for him for a plethora of reasons but certainly that includes self-serving reasons. I believe this was captured really well! I wanted it to be illustrated that Jaehaerys had lost his wits a while beforehand, so he has a vacant look, and Saera has the keys, showing that she is the real power behind the Crown. She has several expensive jewelry pieces (she has many from her lovers, but she doesn’t bother with them, leaving them to collect dust, only thinking gifts from the King are worthy to wear), but my favorite was one I specifically requested. Her jeweled bodice, which contains replicas of the King’s jewels that are present on his crown. Dare I say, she had her mother’s crown repurposed for herself? The intention is clear, Saera is effectively the Queen now, not in name, but Queen nonetheless. As for the general fashion, I told Riot that my favorite era of fashion was the Tudor era, more broadly 1300s- 1550s. As you can see, this was more than delivered and extremely beautifully inspired by historical fashion. GRRM doesn’t always describe his character’s outfits, and the GOT and HOTD outfits were often lackluster. This was exactly the type of beauty I was looking for. The dragon embroidery on Saera’s sleeves? Mwah!

Anyway, thank you so much for geeking out with me! The Saera/Jaehaerys dynamic is one of the most interesting dynamics to me. There’s simultaneously so little and so much there. It’s complex and layered, I can’t stop thinking about it. If you have been on my tiktok, you may have heard about my extensive theory regarding that dynamic, iykyk. If you ever want to talk about them, absolutely feel free to inbox me. More commission ideas coming this year definitely, at least a couple more of this dynamic, but I don’t know how a piece could be any more perfect <3

[heliads]

Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme:  kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect. 

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[rr311]

－𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐓. 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔. 𝐇𝐂

⇨⚠︎︎ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 !¡⚠︎︎⇦ smut, perverted thoughts, jacking off, missionary, doggy, ass!kink, thigh!kink, ass slapping, choking, cussing, black!reader

𝐀𝐍. In honor of demon slayer coming back out In two months I decided to write a smut of my three favorite characters, If you guys like this mini smut story give me more characters to write about! enjoy my lovely’s.

- 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

— 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈

you were all he could think about.

hot and bothered with thoughts clouding his mind from moments ago. you had him pinned to the ground straddling his waist, with your sword pressed against his neck.. and skirt slid up to your upper thigh. he didn’t know how you were even fast enough to pin him down like that but once you did that’s when it started. feeling your ass right on top of his dick and thighs being exposed sent pleasure throughout his body, making these thoughts cloud his mind. he threw down his sword by his futon slamming the door in frustration leaning against it clenching his fists together.

this was your fault..all your fault for making him feel like this. he cussed under his breath hearing his thoughts get louder and needier by the second for you. thinking about how perfectly your ass was ontop of him made him think..how good would you be? sliding his whole length into you as you clenched around him trying to take all of him whimpering and begging for him to take It out..fuck. he groaned to himself feeling his pants get tight, it was just begging to get released he was needy, he was desperate. he trailed his hand down to his belt tugging it off in one go seeing how hard his dick had gotten, “shit..” he mumbled pulling off his boxers grabbing ahold of his dick slowly starting to stroke himself.

the pre cum that was already leaking from his tip, dripped along his fingers as his imagination got deeper into detail. he imagined it was your pussy instead of his hand stroking up and down at a steady pace. he threw his head against the door closing his eyes with a groan picking up the pace more. his thoughts got louder and more realistic as he kept a steady pace, he was fucking you, missionary style with his hand wrapped around your throat as soppy tears ran down your face, begging for him to stop. your legs thrown over his shoulder as his hips bucked deeper inside your needy little cunt ignoring your pleads, focusing on your orgasm and his. he couldn’t stop thinking about it, he wanted to be inside you, he wanted to cum inside you. you’re driving him insane and you don’t even know it. he growled under his breath feeling that familiar knot fill his stomach, keeping up the same pace, “fucking shit y/n.” he whispered with a small moan feeling wet liquid run down his hand along his thigh, onto his floor, his heart rate went up and down as he stroked slow letting himself calm down from his orgasm. he opened his eyes, half lidded as he stared at nothing but the wall in his room with a sigh but chuckled after looking at the mess he made. he couldn’t believe he got horny just by the practice fight you guys had, but did he regret it?

“nah.”

— 𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔

poor guy couldn’t help himself.

It was like any other day but today was more different, you and Tomioka had a mission together after awhile of being assigned solo missions. you guys had a task of finding a demon that was terrorizing a small village in the mountains, when the fight occurred you were left with your uniform torn and ruined. the pants that you normally wore and was apart of your uniform, had been cut low almost like a skirt showing off the lower half. it didn’t seem like a big deal to you because it was just your thighs showing but unfortunately for Tomioka..his minds had other plans. after the whole mission all he could think about was your thighs..how perfect they were..how big they were, imagining the marks and kisses on them. shit. he shouldn’t be thinking about you in that way, you were his friend— but he couldn’t help himself, the thoughts about you got louder and louder by the second it was driving him mad.

his hand clenched and unclenched trying to think about something completely different but your thighs kept coming to his mind, his eyes were squeezed shut trying to stop think about you but it wasn’t working. the more dirty thoughts he was having the more his pants were tightening, his eyes shot wide open staring at the dark ceiling with a fast heart rate, “I shouldn’t be thinking about her..” he murmured to himself feeling like a pervert for thinking about you like this but he couldn’t help himself. he didn’t even think just by your thighs showing he would become a mess but he was always Into that..even if he doesn’t wanna admit, he would always steal glances anytime you decided to wear something short with your uniform. he just wanted to leave hickeys all over those gorgeous thighs..he wanted them wrapped around his waist pulling him tighter as he fucked you. tomioka sucked in a breath trailing his hand through the covers towards his pants, tugging them off. he bit his lip already feeling the pre cum drip down his hand with a small blush on his cheeks starting to slowly stroke himself. his eyes fluttered closed leaning more into his pillow with a small whimper escaping his lips, he continued to stroke himself to the thought of you..your thighs.

he wondered what it would feel like if he fucked them. his cock being rubbed against your thighs as he chased his orgasm wanting to paint them with his cum, thinking about the idea only made him pick up the pace having more moans and desperate whines being heard he kept going and going feeling cum start to leak out. “f-fuck y/n” he choked feeling himself all over his hand, breaths getting faster as his heart race got faster letting his orgasm take over. he twitched in his hand, still stroking at a small pace riding out his orgasm onto his bed sheets feeling himself calm down. his eyes opened lifting the blankets up to see the mess he made, he sighed dropping the blanket back on-top of him starting to feel guilty.

but..It felt so damn good It was worth It.

— 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍

he didn’t feel ashame.

you were clouding his mind that day. due to shortage of hashira’s taking solo missions you and tengen assigned a duo mission. It was like any other mission, you guys go together, fight the demons, and come back to headquarters. but for this case it was a four day mission, the mission took place at the fast side of Japan, most likely east to find a small village that was being terrorized by multiple demons. you and tengen had to find out what has been terrorizing the village and how to stop it, it took some time to complete the mission but you guys managed and completed your duties. on the final night of the mission was the night it changed it all. since the village was small and not that many places to sleep you and Uzui had to share a bed together. It was weird at first but you knew he wasn’t gonna do anything- he was your friend after all.

Or so you thought.

the one thing he did not know was that In your sleep you moved a lot. to the point it happens every hour, Uzui was laid behind you as you were laid infront of him sound asleep with small snores leaving your mouth. you were lucky you could even sleep, for him…you kept backing up against it kept him awake for the past two hours. the feeling of your ass rubbing against his dick felt too fucking good, to pass it up. he had to hold back the urge to grip your hips in place to make you stop but..did he really want this feeling to go away?. he groaned lowly feeling your ass grind up against him for the 50th time that night making him gain a boner. It was aching to be touched..he cussed under his breath feeling his dick throb in his pants the more you kept moving, “shit..” he mumbled, he couldn’t take it anymore. he lifted the blankets up removing himself from the bed making his way to the bathroom closing the door. In a matter of seconds he pulled his pants down taking his throbbing sick into his hands hissing from the feeling. “oh fuck..” He moaned leaning his head against the door stroking himself slow with his eyes closed. the thought of him fucking you doggy style made his strokes go faster, ass slapping against him, fucking you deep and hard slapping your ass every once in awhile just to see it move had him grinding into his hand.

his imagination was running wild. he wondered how tight your pussy would feel around him when he fucks you rough, gripping your ass with his bigger hand, just wanting to rub and feel it. heavy breathes and groans were being heard behind the door as you were still sound asleep, he chanted small fucks feeling his climax reach his peak. he kept going and going till he released all over his hand, stomach and the floor. he breathed heavily trying to calm himself down from his climax continuing to stroke himself feeling more come out. he chuckled lowly looking down at the mess he made with a grin,

“fucking hell.”

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS: "Watch This!" | Crack

So I dunno about you, but I'm one of those idiots who seldom drink water and sometimes forgets to eat for like two days. So when I stand up too fast it's like a moment of "Oh look the lights went out." So anyway that's the entire idea for this. Everyone experiences this, right? This is a normal human thing to experience when you stand up? Just standing up and almost (or actually) peacing out? Anyway, I never said my writing ideas were good but I they're there.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Fainting, Crack Fic, Reader can't take care of themselves, Zayne is stressed as your doctor, Rafayel might have a heart attack, Xavier just assumes you died, Rafayel does as well but he's dramatic on a good day

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

"Xavier, I promise you I am totally fine. I just got a little dizzy because of the heat." You tried assuring the blonde man as he looked around his apartment. He had already gotten a cold compress and thrown a glass of water in your hands for you to sip on. This was all because you guys had gone on a small jog together to prepare for the latest event in town and you had gotten a bit woozy. He had insisted on carrying you back to the apartments and here you where.

"Your face went as white as a sheet." He pointed out and you scoffed. Impossible. You don't even think it's possible to turn that color with how hot you had felt. If he said you looked like a cherry tomato or something from how red your face had gotten from the exertion it would've been more believable.

"Xavier, would an unwell person be able to do this?" You asked as you went to stand. As you jolted into a standing position you then remembered a key detail. The water he had given you was the first thing you had to drink today...and you don't think you had breakfast either.

The thought flashed through your mind as you felt the blood pounding in your ears and your vision darkening. Your only thought was 'Oh sugar, we're going down, down.' before you collapsed in on yourself.

Next thing you knew you were lying on the ground, a soft lap underneath you as Xavier fanned you off. You groaned as you came to, staring at Xavier's face. The man looked like he had just witnessed your death as he stared at you with wide eyes.

"Oh good morning." You managed to murmur out. Xavier's eyes narrowed as he glared down at you.

"You said you were fine then immediately fainted. I was about to call an ambulance." He scolded you, his tone harsh as he shifted your head on his lap. You noticed his free hand was holding a cell phone.

"Oh don't do that please. I'm okay."

"That's what you said last time."

"How about this...you get me something yummy to eat and I drink some water and if I'm still fainting after that then we can consider maybe going to see a doctor."

"Do you swear?"

"No..."

"We're going to the hospital." You then felt your world shift again as you were tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You beat his back, begging him to let you down. Alas, once Xavier had his mind made, there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Zayne

"Have you already eaten today?" It was a simple enough question as you sat at the end of your check up with your favorite doctor. Your legs swinging over the edge as you put in some thought to that question. Zayne sat there, waiting patiently as he looked up and quirked an eyebrow in question.

"That is a brilliant question that I don't have an answer to." You might've eaten something today...or perhaps that was yesterday? The days sometimes blurred together in the most confusing ways.

"Have you drank any water?" Oh that was an easy question. No. The answer was no.

"You know the first ingredient in an energy drink is water."

"No..." Zayne said, pinching his eyebrows together in frustration. How you managed to still be alive is a miracle. Not even science could explain how you didn't just kneel over on any given day with how little care you put into your health.

"Zayne, I can promise you, I am totally healthy. Watch this." You stated before jumping up off the examination table. Immediately you felt the world shifting under you like the floor decided to become sentient and move like a damn treadmill.

Next thing you knew, you were waking up in the arms of the best cardiac surgeon at Akso hospital. You grumbled a bit as the light was bright. You looked up to see Zayne's not amused expression, in fact you might even call it a frustrated look.

"How long was I out?"

"30 seconds too long."

"Am I in trouble?"

"You're going to the cafeteria with me right now to get food and water. If you faint again I'm admitting you for the night and hooking you up to an IV."

"So you're saying fainting gets me a dinner date with the Doctor Zayne, and a possible sleepover?"

"Why are you like this?"

Rafayel

You made the realization that you could only entertain yourself by playing on your phone for so long. Rafayel had promised that as soon as he finished some light detail work on his latest painting, you could go out to town and grab some dinner.

That was well over six hours ago as you laid on his couch. You had already finished a book you had downloaded on your phone, scrolled through all your social media, checked out new memes, and caught up on videos of people you followed. As you looked over you saw Rafayel was still sitting on his stool, painting away.

You groaned, rolling yourself off the couch you had been glued to for those entire six hours. You plopped onto the floor, noting that he really did need to clean this studio up a bit. Normally Rafayel would at least be talking to you, but he had been so quiet and boring today.

"Raf...I'm dying of boredom here." You finally called out to him. The man in question looked over at you then looked outside. The sun had set a long time ago and he paused in what he was doing.

"I promise, I'm almost done." He said with a sigh and you groaned again. Then you remembered a little party trick you had up your sleeve. You'd admit you were actually hungry on account of being too busy to eat and then being promised food earlier, you opted not to have snacks. Not to mention water was gross for drinking so it all accumulated into the perfect way to get his attention.

"Rafayel, I'm fading away. I'm starving. I might die. I'm so weak." You called out from the floor and Rafayel finally turned in his stool to eye you up and down.

"I'm sure you are." His tone was sarcastic as he looked at you. He seemed to be entertained by your antics, "I can always order you some food. I also have snacks in the kitchen." He pointed out.

"That won't work, Raf. I'm too far gone. I mean...just watch this." You said, jumping up from your position on the ground. As soon as you were in a standing position, your body fought against you. Your ears were ringing uncomfortably and your vision went in and out. You could barely hear Rafayel calling your name in concern, followed by a him cursing as things clattered.

You collapsed, fainting just like you knew your dumbass would. You knew your body and knew the perfect conditions for going lights out, after all.

When you came to, you saw Rafayel almost in tears as he tried getting you to wake up. You murmured something that not even you could decipher as Rafayel's shoulders sagged in relief.

"I thought you actually died." He looked shaken up as you raised a hand to touch his cheek.

"Can we get food now like you promised?"

Rafayel was silent for a moment as he calmed his heart down and looked at you, "Did you faint just so I'd stop painting and take you to dinner?"

"Well did it work?"

"...Yes, but never do that again."

[aespicysstuff]

Scream

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Description: "When Jenna can't help but fall in love with her coworker, but she's too much of a coward to confess believing you don't feel the same, however, the girl is wrong you would kneel for her."

Words: 18.1k

Saju: "ENJOY IT LOVE"

---

Jenna Ortega is a well-known name. She is an authentic woman with unreal beauty, creativity, cuteness, education, intelligence, and more. I could spend days complimenting her without getting tired. Like many people, I know Jenna from her works. Watching her performances on screen is already something gratifying and magnificent, but nothing compares to witnessing her talent in person.

How do I know this? Well, perhaps because, thanks to my job, I had the opportunity to work alongside one of the people I admire. Since a very young age, I have always been interested in parkour, martial arts, and boxing. Recognizing my potential in these areas, my father ensured I learned everything. Thankfully to him, I have the most enjoyable job – being a stunt double.

---

You logically started with small films and series, sometimes even commercials and a few games. You had begun to gain popularity among directors, especially after being the stunt double for Zoë Kravitz in "The Batman" and being the motion and body model for a new character in the Resident Evil game franchise. The director of "Scream VI" was looking for a stunt double for Melissa Barreram, the actress playing Sam Carpenter. Like other stunt doubles, you submitted a video showcasing your skills. After seeing your performance and how adept you were at both agile and heavy movements, they hired you for the role. You've been enjoying the experiences to the fullest.

At this moment, you were heading to the set and also meeting with the cast. During the filming, you had gotten close to almost all the actors, especially Jenna and Melissa. As you arrived, you spotted Jasmine and Mason from a distance, quickening your pace to reach them. "GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIES!" You kissed both of them on the cheek. "Good morning, lovely! You woke up in high spirits today," Jasmine said after you sat beside her. "I also noticed. Does it have something to do with a 5'1" Latina who loves playing characters with no sanity?" Mason teased while ruffling your hair.

You weakly slapped his arms, scoffing as they both broke into laughter. But when you were about to say something, a familiar scream interrupted. "MELISSA, STOP!" In minutes, you saw a small figure running towards you and hiding behind you. "Y/n, protect me, plea—" Jenna was interrupted by a furious Melissa chasing her. They ran around the table, making everyone laugh at the actresses' cuteness.

You decided it would be better to stop them before someone got hurt. You got up, caught Melissa in your arms, and held her tight. She struggled a little, but your grip was firm. Though she might be taller, you were stronger. You placed her beside Mason and sat back down, chuckling. Jenna sat beside you, and you offered her a water bottle. After she thanked you and turned to the group, you couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

Your eyes roamed every detail of her face, from her freckles to her dimple, her button nose, and the lips you wanted to feel so badly. Jenna felt her heart jumping in her chest, as if she would pass out from how intensely you were looking at her. She started leaning her face towards yours, interlinking her gaze between your eyes and your lips. Hypnotized, both of you were so entranced by each other that you didn't notice when you were called, "LOVE BIRDS!! WE HAVE SCENES TO SHOOT!! STOP EATING EACH OTHER AND GO TO THE SET!!" Jasmine, always the sweetheart, got your attention, making both of you jump a little and put some distance between yourselves.

The staff and some actors had already entered; only you and Jenna were missing. You remained in silence, trying to tame your heartbeats and your blush. You heard Jenna clearing her throat, "Uh... I-I think it's better if we go inside too." Jenna said while getting up and walking to the set, not giving you time to reply. You stayed for a bit longer, trying to absorb what just happened. Would you guys really have kissed if you weren't interrupted? You put your hands on your head, sighing, and started your way to the set.

You had started the recordings, and now you found yourself restless and apprehensive. At the moment, you were shooting the theater scene, and seeing Jenna hanging there wasn't pleasant. You couldn't believe how many times this girl faced danger without fear. She had mentioned loving to do her own stunts, and you couldn't blame her. You felt incredible after your own acrobatics. Still, you feared that one day she might get seriously injured. You couldn't help but worry about her.

You almost ran towards her when the director gave the order for her to fall, but you held back and sat down again. Her character and Jack's had a brief dialogue, and following the script, Tara thrust the knife into Ethan's mouth. You couldn't deny that seeing her smile of relief after her action and the blood on her face made you more infatuated with her than you already were.

Just as it was said, you knew Jenna from other works, and since then, you admired her. Just like her fans, you couldn't resist the charms of this Latina. Since the first day of filming, you've been falling more and more in love with her. She doesn't help much in easing these feelings since, from the first day, she hasn't let go of you. Not that you're complaining, but trying to stop liking her is almost an impossible mission.

You would really like to confess your feelings to Jenna, but you feel that she deserves someone better, someone who understands her (in the work sense) and who is a beautiful woman that fits with her. You're just the stunt double, the tomboy, as some call you, simply because you have a more sculpted body, a muscular physique, and a tomboyish style. You've always faced these kinds of unpleasant comments for these reasons. Your friends always comfort you, and your small fan community defends you as much as they can.

Jenna also always comforts you when some of these comments shake you. She always says that you're like a Doberman, always with a stern face, ready to snap at anyone who comes close. She said she feels safe with you, as if she were at home. Lost in your thoughts, you hadn't noticed that they had finished the scenes. You also didn't see a certain short girl watching you attentively.

Jenna observed every trace of your face, every bit of you. From your curly hair to your tattoos, she loves every part of you. She finds herself hopelessly in love with you, every aspect of you, habits, words—you leave her fascinated. It wasn't in her plans to fall in love, but on the day she saw you, she knew her heart wouldn't hold up. She perfectly remembers how her heart skipped a beat after seeing you. You were in simple clothes that highlighted your curves and, most importantly, your muscles. But the fatal blow was the smile you gave her after hugging her.

But Jenna is afraid of this, of these feelings. She has always been more focused on work, never paid much attention to romance. But now, after getting to know you, she daydreams about your life together.

She wants to confess, but she never manages to. She always retreats before revealing her feelings, afraid that you won't fit into her life or even that you'll distance yourself because of it. That's why she hasn't confessed yet. But the desire is there, what's lacking is courage and a bit of shame.

Jenna shook her head slightly to get rid of these thoughts and silently approached you since you were still distracted. She came close to you, laughing at your expression, and on impulse, she squeezed your shoulders and gave you a kiss on the neck, staying with her face there. "Jenna! Why did you scare me like that?" You said in a playful manner, covering your face, hearing the girl laugh at the situation. "Sorry, mi corazón, it wasn't my intention, but you looked so beautifully distracted, and I couldn't resist." She hugged you, and you turned a bit, pulling her onto your lap, hugging her waist and resting your head on her shoulder.

Jenna put her arms around your neck and planted a kiss on the top of your head. You didn't say anything, just enjoyed each other's presence. It was enough. The connection you two had was visible for everyone to see, and it was a beautiful thing. That's why many didn't bother you two. Unfortunately, your moment was interrupted by the director calling you to shoot some stunts. Both of you sighed; you gave Jenna a little pat on the thigh signaling her to get up. "No! I'm not leaving. I'm home..." She said in a cute, whiny voice, and your heart skipped a few beats. "I'm home," you couldn't help but smile.

You tightened your embrace. "It's okay, my love. I promise to spend the whole rest of the day with you." You cupped her face, caressing her cheek. Jenna felt butterflies having a party in her stomach. Ugh! How she wanted to kiss you until the air evaporated from her lungs, but she restrained herself, moving away a bit and raising her pinkie finger, "Do you promise with your pinkie?" You laughed at her cuteness and joined your pinkies, "I promise, mi amor." You kissed her fingers, making Jenna even more infatuated.

"Then go do those stunts quickly because I want to be cuddled up with you all day." You picked her up, making her squeal and then burst into laughter. You put her down and started walking toward the actors, but you stopped, turned back, and ran towards Jenna. However, what she had to say got stuck in her throat. You had given her a kiss on the eyebrow and whispered in her ear, "See you later, mi amor."

You ran off after the director shouted your name, leaving a paralyzed and tomato-red Jenna behind. She snapped out of her trance and ran to her trailer, laughing like a love-struck teenager.

---

The sun had already set when everyone was released from the recordings. The sky was partially orange, and its dim light guided you to your trailer. You knocked on the door, and it didn't take long for Jenna to open it. "You took your time!" She pulled you into a hug. "Mi amor, you were the one who got released early, haha!" You squeezed her in your arms, resting your chin on her head. You stayed like that for a few more minutes.

"Let's go inside; you must be tired." She led you in, closing the door once you entered. "Can I take a quick shower, princess?" You asked, seeing a cute pout forming on her face. "But... I wanted to cuddle with you now." She pouted, and you couldn't resist the cuteness, pinching her cheeks, making her pout intensify.

"My love, this will only take me a few minutes, and then you can have me all to yourself." Jenna looked at you with those bambi eyes and agreed, going to sit on the couch while you prepared. As you had said, after a few minutes, you were already by her side, watching none other than "Puss in Boots 2" haha. You were lying on the couch, and Jenna was lying on top of you.

There was a pleasant silence between you two, only the sounds of the movie were heard. You lowered your gaze to Jenna, observing every detail of her, from eyebrows to lips. You became (once again) hypnotized. Jenna felt your burning gaze on her head and turned her face, resting her chin between your breasts, "What's wrong?" She asked, giving you a small smile. You just shook your head, watching her, seeing how every part of her reacted. God, you were hopelessly in love and didn't know what to do.

You wanted to shout at the top of your lungs about how much you love her, wanted to kiss her, love her, take care of her, wanted to be with her. But you are a coward who can't take action and is afraid of losing her in every way. You ran your hand over Jenna's face, gently caressing her with your thumb, watching her close her eyes and practically melt into your embrace.

Jenna turned her face, depositing a kiss in the palm of your hand, still with her eyes closed. She felt the temperature of her body increase with each touch of yours; to feel you so close is a blessing and a curse at the same time. She wanted to have you like this but as her girlfriend, as the love of her life and not as "friends"; she hated that term. She wants to have the freedom to kiss you, love you, but fear and insecurities consume her, and gradually she gets closer to possibly losing you.

You were in your bubble; no one spoke anything, just felt the touches of your bodies and souls. Jenna opened her eyes, seeing your eyes fixed on her, and you realized you’d been caught. So, you sent her a crooked smile with your cheeks reddish. You realized how close your faces were, and with courage taken from your ass, you gradually started to close the distance between you two.

Jenna also started to close the distance; she felt her body tremble in anticipation. She put her hands on your shoulders, grabbing your shirt. "Kiss me… Kiss me please Y/N." Jenna grabbed your face, putting her forehead on yours. She slightly dragged her lips across your face, whispering, "kiss me mi amor."

"F*ck it," you pulled her neck and kissed her. The kiss was hurried, but firm. In it, love and desire stored for so long were transmitted. Sighs were released, hearts accelerated and synchronized, bodies hot like the embers of a bonfire, hands exploring every part of the bodies, every curve, caressing the skin like a brush caresses.

The air became scarce, and both, reluctantly, separated. Jenna had opened her eyes slowly, trying to reason if what just happened was true or just another one of her dreams. She lay on your chest, still panting, and looked at you, waiting for you to open your eyes and snap out of the trance.

You felt like you were in the clouds, more alive. You opened your eyes, seeing the woman of your dreams watching you. "Are you real? Like... did this really just happen, or am I delirious?" You asked her while caressing her hair. Jenna smiled, showing her dimple, and hid her face in your neck.

You both were euphoric, finally! You had fulfilled one of the wishes, but the doubt still lingers. Even though you had just kissed each other with all of you, with your hearts, you can't help but question, "Does she really like me?"

You cleared your throat, bringing Jenna's attention back to you. "Uh... I know we just kissed as if the world were ending, but... uh... what are we now? Like, do you really like me? Because I like— No! I... I love you, Jenna." You confessed, watching Jenna react with disbelief. "I've loved you since the day I met you, with your more reserved way, your somewhat eccentric humor, your sarcasm, your freckles." You said everything with a smile on your face and a special sparkle in your eyes. "You can't imagine all the times I held back from kissing you, telling you how much I love you. All the tears I shed for you, feeling insufficient for you." You let out a shaky sigh; getting all of this off your chest is a relief.

Jenna couldn't explain what she felt at this moment. Relief? Happiness? Sadness? She couldn't believe that you were really saying all this; her heart felt like it was going to explode with so much happiness. But she felt sad hearing your last words, "How dare you feel that way?!? Y/n, I've never felt so happy, safe, and comfortable with anyone like I feel with you. It's like my heart already knew that you would take care of it with your life." She passed her hand over your face, wiping away the tears that you didn't even realize were falling.

"You make me feel so many things at once, but none of them is something bad. You always take care of me, make me feel beautiful, make me feel like I can conquer the world and the universe. You are my star; you are more than enough for me, mi amor. And answering you, I love you too, and I want this to turn into something more. I want you as my partner for the rest of my life." She chuckled lightly; her soul felt light after confessing, after knowing that you also love her.

You hugged each other with big smiles on your faces. Both have a lot to learn, but now, they won't do it alone. You have each other, and this union will be hard to break. Your love is special, like the love of the sun for the moon.

[hellaversity]

See, this is what happens when people don't count important details in storytelling just because it's not being said outright, but rather shown through character expressions without dialogue. There were hints from the beginning that Stella was always meant to be a bad person and an obstacle to Stolas' feelings for Blitzø.

Don't believe me? Watch Loo Loo Land again with more open ears and eyes. Stella is shown throwing stuff at Stolas, including his sentient plants which he values highly and she was likely aware of that. That imp butler she threw at him means she not only abuses Stolas, but her own servants too, especially those of a particular lower class race.

Octavia's expressions here imply that this isn't an isolated incident either. That's the look of a girl who's heard this same type of arguing from her parents everyday. With how annoyed she looks, Stolas and Stella might as well have been fighting like this for years. It'd be more surprising if they didn't.

Octavia's lack of a reaction to her mom throwing a plant that almost hit her implies that this is far from the first time Stella has thrown things around the house. That is a concerning thing to get used to. Stella is also heard yelling about Stolas sleeping with an IMP, in THEIR bed. Notice the emphasis on "imp" and "our" bed. Even Stolas' only response to that is "I didn't have time to go to a motel!" It's pretty clear here that Stella is more concerned about about Stolas cheating on her with an imp specifically and ruining her reputation than the fact that he cheated at all.

If she was truly upset about the cheating itself, she would've said something more along the lines of "I can't believe you slept with someone else!" or something like that. Throwing their imp butler and him saying "You wanna fuck this one too?" and calling Stolas "pathetic, imp-sucking face" is all you need to know that Stella is making it more about WHO Stolas cheated on her with than the fact that he cheated. Keep in mind that this argument was going on right in front of Via, who didn't even say anything or try to stop it.

Octavia here says "You two done screaming for the day?" with little emotion, and Stolas' reply basically amounts to "Yup" without hesitation. More and more proof that his marriage with Stella was NEVER happy and never something that he wanted.

Later in the episode, Via does say that her parents used to love each other, even though we as the audience know it's not true. Stolas even tries to explain to her that he and Stella were never in love to begin with, but he didn't have the words. Because how exactly can you explain to your daughter that you and your wife were in an arranged marriage since you guys were kids for the sole purpose of producing a child, without offending her and making her think she was only born for one purpose? Or better yet, what reason is there to assume that she'd actually believe you?

People have looked at this picture on the wall and somehow came to the conclusion that Stolas and Stella used to be in a happy, loving relationship based on this picture alone, just because Stella is smiling in it. But if you look cloesly, you'll see that smile on Stella is barely there. She's very obviously faking it to keep up an image. She's forcing it so people won't get suspicious. This is the vision of Stella that Octavia remembers from her youth, which is exactly why she was naive enough to believe that her parents genuinely loved each other before Blitzø came along for a one night stand in hopes of getting the grimoire. Sure, she had seen them arguing and fighting with each other before that, but that's mainly because most if not all parents have gotten into nasty arguments at some point that their children were more likely than not to witness.

Stella is barely looking at Stolas there, clearly rolling her eyes and just wanting the picture to be overwith already. Stolas is genuinely happy there, but that's because his "little owlette" is there with him. He's not looking at Stella at all. Another picture in their house with just Stolas and Stella together has both of them frowning and looking at the camera, not each other. Octavia is the only thing to come out of Stolas' marriage that ever gave him any real happiness. She was the only reason he stayed at that house.

That scene where Stella ignores Octavia's cry for help when she's having a nightmare and tells Stolas to go check on her instead is more evidence that Stella had never been a nice person or a good mother. You could argue that she was just too tired to do anything about it, but look again. Stolas was just as tired as she was, yet he still went out of way to comfort his "little Starfire" when she was having a bad dream. Octavia may have called for both of her parents, but she said she had a bad dream about her father disappearing. Not her parents, just her father.

Also notice the drawings in Octavia's bedroom when she's a child. Look at how many of them are of her and Stolas together, but Stella is nowhere to be found in those drawings. That shows how close Via is to her father, especially when she was a little girl, but was never really close to her mother at all. Sure, those drawings are no longer in Via's room when she's a teen in the present, but remember that her and Stolas gradually got less close to each other as the years went by and their relationship got more flawed, to the point that Via questions if her dad even loves her anymore and literally listens to music about hating dads. But the fact remains that there were never any drawings of Stella in her daughter's room and there still isn't now is pretty telling that Stella was never a good mom, still isn't now and likely never will be.

Now look at The Harvest Moon Festival. If Loo Loo Land didn't convince you that Stella was a bitch, then this episode sure will. Stella's only scene in the episode is her screaming into a phone while she's talking to Striker about wanting Stolas dead. Right in front of him and Octavia. While Via is listening to music that's too loud for her to have even heard the screaming, Stolas heard it pretty clearly. But he had no reaction to his own wife screeching about hiring an assassin to kill him. Him being completely unphased by something like that is surely a sign that Stella had always hated his guts and he knew about it. He likely heard her shouting at the top of her lungs about wanting to murder him with her own bare hands. If he's not reacting to Stella talking to Striker on the phone about planning his death in front of him, he might as well have been hearing shit like that from her for years.

Not counting the pilot, those are the only two scenes with Stella in season 1. Both scenes depicted her in the same light. A loud, violent bitch in a loveless marriage. Therefore, her reveal in The Circus about always hating Stolas from the get go is not a retcon. Not that there was even much known about her character for there to be retconned in the first place, but her few scenes before that episode showed her doing and saying nothing BUT horrible things.

As for Stolitz, Blitzø is more than once implied to return Stolas' feelings for him. He just never said it out loud and is in denial about his own feelings. He's not even aware that Stolas' love for him is genuine because between their reuniting at the Not Divorce Party and their fumbled fake date at Ozzie's, Stolas has only ever talked to Blitzø with sexual innuendos. So Blitzø had no reason to assume that Stolas was legitimately in love with him and didn't just want him for sexy times, because Stolas hadn't really been helping his case. Blitzø ranted to Fizzarolli about Stolas "acting" like he cared about him outside of sex.

Everytime Blitzø talks about Stolas treating him like his own personal fuck toy, he looks and sounds pretty upset about it. I doubt he'd care all that much about his relationship with Stolas being transactional fucking if he didn't like him back. Right after the fake date gone wrong at Ozzie's, Blitzø is looking at several pictures saved in his phone, one of them being a photo of him Stolas laying together in bed. Blitzø looks genuinely happy in that photo, he's even smiling. He DOES enjoy being around Stolas. When Loona comforts him after Bee's party, he can be heard whispering the names of all the people he cares about and is close to. Those people being Loona, Moxxie, Millie and.... Stolas.

In Seeing Stars, Blitzø blushes when seeing Stolas in his human form and you can see his pupils dialating for a few seconds before he changes for a few seconds. I don't know about you, but I don't blush at anyone i'm not in love with when they get a new look. Pupils dialating are also a commom indication that you're looking at something you love. Later in that episode, Blitzo nervously sweats when Stolas whispers into his ear with a seductive voice, smiles at Stolas specifically when he causes the whole audience to laugh, and holds his hand while they run out of the burning building. Blitzø did not need to hold Stolas' hand. He could've just said "Hey, let's get the fuck outta here," and Stolas wouldn't have hesitated. On top of that, they are still shown holding hands long after they escaped and only let go once they see their daughters.

Now, onto the most complicated scene involving the Stolitz relationship, during Blitzø's ball tripping hallucination where he sees Stolas on top of a staircase and is being pulled towards him with chains. Already not a good sign. But Blitzø was already climbing the staircase before the chains appeared. Even when he saw Stolas above him, he didn't run away. He briefly walked towards him before being dragged towards him. He's seen blushing once he reaches the top and Stolas caresses his face. Also notice how the art style in Blitzø's ball trip sequence was completely different from how the show normally looks, but the moment he saw Stolas the art style changed back to normal. Meaning that Blitzø feels the most like himself when he's around Stolas.

He just wants to be in a legit, healthy relationship with Stolas out of love, not the transactional fuck buddy situation he's in right now. He wishes that Stolas would stop calling him degrading nicknames like "impish little plaything" and is bothered by the power imbalance between the two of them.

"Show, don't tell" is an important writing tool that isn't respected these days. If a story isn't being anvilicious and spoonfeeding you information with heavy-handed exposition and infodumps left and right, then foreshadowing details get dismissed and ignored, with some people straight up saying they don't count because it's not being spelled out to them every 5 seconds. This is why some people still insist that Stella's villainy was retconned and that Blitzø has no interest in Stolas despite evidence to the contrary. They were paying more attention to their headcanons than what the show actually presented, and got mad when their headcanons were contradicted by canon.

[elizzsush]

I love you?| Tim Drake X Reader

Tim Drake X Reader

— How can you mourn someone you never truly knew?

AU: None Rating: SFW

Note: Check out this post for context! Tim is a bit of a stalker, but he always has been so its in character. ________________________________

The first thing Tim ever did after meeting you was run a background check.

It had become second nature at that point. A habit he picked up when he was younger that just stuck. Tim had an obsessive personality, so it was a natural habit- or maybe he forced this habit on himself. He's always been one to bite off more than he can chew and then force himself too sallow.

You checked all the boxes. Funny, beautiful, nice to be around, easy to get along with, clean background, you could handle yourself in a fight. You told him you took self defense classes which made sense in Gotham- and had a promising future. Everything a Wayne would be expected to look for in a partner.

It was a bonus that you had a crush on him. It made it easy.

Tim Drake, the smart and handsome boy in your class. It was natural that when he asked you to go out with him, you'd say yes.

Tim was a pretty calculated person, because of his... nighttime activities he had also gotten into the habit of never allowing much room for error. He planned ahead to even minor details.

It was because of all these things you and Tim began your relationship.

“We had a date… We’re are you?” Another reason you and Tim stayed together. You were unbelievably patient. He saw it when he came rushing into the nice restaurant he booked for the two of you- regular clothes and a hastily bought slightly ruined bouquet. All while you sat in a nice dress, a half eaten meal in front of you. You weren’t the type to blow up and get upset, you kept your feelings inside and that worked for him.

Funnily- err, no… horribly enough, Tim never told you why he was late for every other date. Instead he choose a simpler much easier route. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find my keys.”

It worked because no matter how shallow or hard to believe the lies were… you took them. Took them and smiled while you tried to forget about it and enjoy the rest of the night with your boyfriend.

Often it felt like going through the motions with you. You’d smile and enjoy the time you spent with the boy and then wave him goodbye. Being with Tim… it felt so surface level. It felt lonely… Gifts were used as an excuse to not spend real… physical time with you. So, you’d just smile at the flowers you got at your door and the teddy bear, even if they were stereotypical nonpersonal things to give a partner.

While you didn’t know If you loved your own boyfriend, you knew you admired him. You admired how he kept himself in shape despite how busy he was, how he managed all his work with the side projects he kept up with- how he juggled his family. All of it. You admired how he seemed to work for what he had.

You admired how he always seemed so tired. Too tired to properly hide the aspects he didn't want you to see. But you chose to not see them. Not let him know you saw through it. Not giving anything away he didn't want.

Still, all those things kept him so… distant. Like a wall being put up in front of you, hiding him away.

Would it be clingy to tell him to call more?

He was already so busy; how did he juggle you with his life? It seemed hard. At times you thought he was cheating on you but with how public he and you were… it was a fleeting thought. Did Tim even enjoy the time you two did have together?

You’d often question your relationship with the Wayne boy.

You questioned a lot of things. Some you’d question only later. Later when you awoke from the coma that… that monster put you in.

But before that... before any of that. “Catwomen got your tongue?” You’d giggle and poke the boy's shoulder. He was definitely upset today; you'd blame the lack of sleep- he blames your curiosity. “Hey, talk to me..?”

“I’m sorry, I’m kind of busy right now.” He frowned slapping your hand your touch away and you could only pout to hide the hurt in your chest.

.

.

The first time Tim held you hand your cheeks hurt from smiling.

.

.

The worst part of everything to Tim. He didn't even know if he did love you.

There was exactly ten times Tim wished he told you it. Once he did, mostly to get you off his back. Did that make him a horrible person?

He liked you. He liked how easy you were. He liked how you trusted him. He liked how you let him lie to you. He liked how your felt against him, how you would get up to get him another energy drink instead of nagging him about his health. Not that you weren't concerned about the amount of caffeine he consumed you had been clear you were...

He liked when he was a little more careless, having you against him while he typed away on his computer. You holding his drink for him, head on his shoulder, just tired enough to not see what he was really working on. he thought at least... He liked having you against him when he got back... When he saw you again he liked having you around. He enjoyed feeling you against him, your skin on his... Hold you close and just... feel. Feel your body heat against his when he'd get back from patrolling those cold Gotham nights. Rip that same old suit off and climb into bed, embrace that skin to skin contact he so easily grew addicted too.

It was a funny joke with Gothamites that Tim Drake, the son of Bruce Wayne was a coffee addict. Tim had an obsessive personality, so it wasn't out of character. Every post with him in it had a mug, which never helped with the so-called rumors.

As he scrolled on his phone, he didn't even notice the mugs slowly disappearing. Instead, you were on his arm in every photo... Huh...

He didn't know if he loved you. He probably never would anymore... He probably didn't. I mean, what kind of man scrolls on his phone while holding the hand of their supposed lover? Especially when you were hooked up to wires...

But, it hurt too look at you. See you in that state. Not knowing if you'd wake up. The ache in his chest... It lessened when he adverted his eyes and stared at his phone.

If his touch was the sun, you were the earth. If he was your sun, that meant he failed you. When the sun combusts, the earth will die, and the sun combusted, broke under the pleasure.

He should've been a better boyfriend...

If he was, he would have at least known what kind of flowers to bring you...

Roses... felt too basic. To... impersonal.

___________________________________________

A/N: I hate hate hate hate my writing! Bleh. This all felt tooooo flat.

[hey-i-am-trying]

hi, tripoier here! Long text incoming alert and a detailed explanation of the situation for qsmpblr (also sorry if I make some typos I'm writing without translator)

Yeah I also saw what happened today with the og admin of Pepito and I have a lot to say about it. First of all I'm not speaking in behalf of the community but I'm my own experience of the situation. I watched the development of Pepito's story since day one and fell in love with that little guy (and his laggy PC). Then second day arrived and I noticed the admin change bc he was less laggy and I've learned enough Portuguese and 07's (Richas admin) mannerisms to recognize when he's playing a character, even Roier noticed but didn't say anything until the screencap incident lol

Few day passed and 07 created such a cute and wholesome personality for Pepito, that contrasted very well with the role that roier was having at the moment— that it's understandable that it may not be too comfortable for some people but for the ones that had been watching Roier's story in the server + his relationship with Bobby, we take it with humor/hope for him to heal slowly after what happened in Purgatory and with Bobby (and believe me, Bobby had a HUGE impact on how Roier behaved with the rest of he eggs after his death)

So during the days 07 played as Pepito all the tripoiers were in this state of hope because we knew how much q!Roier was trying hard to not to get attached to Pepito, he knew the moment something happens to him he was gonna suffer A LOT, and Pepito was this pure, innocent ray of sunshine that it was imposible for us not to love immediately (Roier also did from day one but he loved to play with us + his lore at the moment was being in depression for the lost of his husband and having Richas and Leo in their comatose state). Also, is worth to mention that after he discovered it was 07 the one playing as Pepito he became more playful and started to tease him just to make him go out of role (and succeeded one time). Which is why he used the chancla a lot with him, as a shield for the feelings that were starting to grow on him again.

Then, Otipep happened.

This is the part I'm gonna be more careful to explain bc there is a language barrier that for the people who don't have Spanish as their first language they cannot understand or got confused

When Otipep appeared Roier noticed that it was another admin playing as Pepito because 07 was busy helping with Q's lore, we don't know if he recognized immediately that it was the original one or just a random temporary admin, but he noticed that this Pepito appeared where the fist one disconnected (in the garden outside of his house). Some people noticed that it was the original one and got happy bc it meaned that finally Pepito had his permanently admin back and bc Richas and the others eggs were also back from the coma we could see them both at the same time (roier used to joke about it every time 07 was around)

We also thought that the og admin had been catching up with the role that 07 has built so far with Pepito (which was not, and we would never know if it was either miscommunication between the admins or the og admin just decided to ignore the actual role to keep their 'idea' for the role), so at first we were a little bit shocked when this Pepito started acting so "dry" (idk if this is the correct word) with Roier, bc we had already gotten used to Pepito's tender way of speaking, but we just let that pass for a bit.

But then that "dry" behavior started going to go down a path were even we as an audience started getting uncomfortable, because roier was trying to socialize with the admin but they clearly didn't knew what's has been going on these past days, so Roier take the time to make a summary of the last days with his typical chill humor, and while he was doing that everything reached its final point with the sign "hueles a culo también hijo de puta" = you also smell like ass son of a bitch.

now This. THIS right here is what destroyed everything. Because you would say "oh, it's just Pepito following Roier's game, it's was in a playful way".

No.

It. was. not.

When Roier starts calling someone with some swears or related words is always in a playful way, and there is context and trust behind. When Otipep put that sign Roier was making a summary of the role that 07 has been doing with Pepito, bc he didn't wanted to let them behind, and while doing that he always explain with his usual humor to make it less unconformable for the admin/ entertained for his audience.

So when he placed that sign we all get out of the loop because it came from nowhere, even Roier kept silence of a few second because 1). it sounded rude, that sign was so out of place 2). Roier was explaining the last few days to the admin so he can keep up with the role, he was not "joking" with the admin, or moving on to another topic, he was helping the admin. 3). We, as an audience, felt so shocked because they weren't saying that to Roier in a playful way, they were giving weight to those words. And this is the part that people that do not have Spanish as their first language doesn't understand. They gave weight to the insult. They didn't wrote that as a joke, they directly INSULTED the streamer.

Then roier proceeded to hit him with the chancla bc he wanted to take the control back of the situation in a humorous way, a damage control in other words, because the chat was filling with "??????" And people getting offended and angry (justified, even I felt offended) with the admin, but Roier is not of those type of persons and he always try to make his streams a safe place for his community, so if you ask me he did a really well job handling the situation even tho he felt offended and his audience noticed that for the rest of the stream (hell, even days later)

And if that was not enough, Roier kept trying to save the situation but the admin was not cooperating, with the "no he preguntado"= I've not asked you and other sign that I just don't remember and is not really worth it (and bc Otipep literally left Roier speaking alone with the "I'm going to look for better parents" and went to spawn zone), he just gave up trying and waited for Richas to come back (which was also chocked w the situation)

And this is me speaking from a non-neutral tone, but I think we could've had a Roier being super loving and caring with Pepito if this situation didn't happen in the first place, bc after this I noticed that Roier stopped tried to get close to Pepito, the situation really affected him so whatever role he was building with the character he just simply stopped and changed the dynamic with another one more limited and less parental, but keeping his usual humor bc it was not the fault of the actual admin or 07, it is what it is unfortunately.

That's why I'm so glad that the actual admin and Ricardão did such a good job saving Pepito because the Spanish speaking community was about to drop him, even streamers friends of Roier that are not part of the qsmp acknowledge the behavior of Otipep with Roier (if that doesn't say a lot about how complicated it was on this side of the road)

And even after all these things there was people out there calling the Spanish speaking community as dramatic or harassing Roier when the situation happened (and it seems they still do it :/ ), but most of us kept quiet because we respect Roier and as he says, mejor pasamos de movidas.

and well, this is it, I know I'm missing some points in the story but honestly getting into fights or hate in general is not my thing, I wanted to give some context for the people of Tumblr because I know, at least here people take the time to read and are more chill unlike twt, and I hope I gave some clarification for the rest of the communities that are not native in Spanish, I really really love Pepito and I'm so glad we had 07 and the actual admin there to play this character, I still can't believe that person had the audacity to come out proudly as Pepito's 1st admin when literally no one from the Spanish community considers his 2 appereances as canon after their blunder xd

Thank you for sharing!

I understand that some stuff are hard to translate, thank you for taking the time. I didn't know that your community was being called dramatic because of that! That is dumb as hell and I am sorry it happend in the first place.

Of course we are no in business of spreading hate. I have always tried to see the other side of situations, I think from what I read in the admin's doc they had some kinda of vision for the character, but I guess they didn't realized that well, they were not going to become automaticly friends with Roier and have room to "joke" like that just because they have become an egg admin. Probably my best guest of what it happend.

It is really weird, maybe they were banking on the support that the other admins have gotten? Or they actually never realized how insulting they have come out as.

Well, I don't have much to say, except I am sorry it happend at all with Roier and the hispanic community.

[synergysilhouette]

Things I'd want for an an "Ever After High" reboot

As much love as "Monster High" has gotten--and as much attention as it's gotten, thanks to 2 reboots--I think it's time for a reboot of Ever After High, for the lore/show if nothing else (and yes, I know it was all for the dolls). And note: I say "reboot" instead of "revival" because the show had a gaping flaw with it, and I'll include it in one of the things I'd like to see in a Gen 2 of EAH:

More nuance--The BIGGEST issue with the show was how biased it was when it was trying to see itself as a complex story. The Royals were written as selfish, hypocritical, and vain when discussing the future and their legacies, and it made being a Royal unlikable, which was probably done by the writers to make us sympathize with the Rebels more, not to mention the fact that Raven was always kind and level-headed, making Apple come off much more disingenuous. It wasn't even a "the Rebels are slightly more right"; the Rebels were written as 100% right and the Royals weren't "good" people until they came around to the way the Royals thought. I'd enjoy them embracing the Royals' positive side (which have been shown when not involving the RvR debate), as well as highlighting the fact that following tradition isn't always a bad thing, and that those who followed their destiny didn't have to follow it to the letter, but were allowed to make changes here and there (ie Apple marrying a prince; it didn't have to be Daring). As such, destinies are vague, giving you a beginning and end while omitting the in-between parts. And given this change to what is considered a Royal, there are no in-between groups like Roybels.

2. Don't forget the guys--Part of what made EAH an engaging "girly" show for me was the fact that they still had significant male characters (usually it's like a 10-1 ratio; here it feels like 5-1), all of whom have unique designs and appearances. I'm pretty sure this wouldn't be an issue, but I still wanna point it out.

3. Headmaster Grimm is more altruistic and wise--I swear, "Wish" has ruined me forever. I'm on a Magnifico kick. Headmaster Grimm, while still lying to the students and kinda misleading them, doesn't do so just because of the flimsy "This is how things are done"; he's more of a lawful neutral/true neutral character, where he understood after years of seeing people try to change their destinies it either comes true anyway or ends up getting their own Happily Ever After, but it does more damage than good for everyone else. As such, he understands the fact that good cannot exist without evil, and vice-versa, explaining his own motivations for manipulating events at EAH, with the proposed destinies being what he believes to be the best-possible scenarios. (Plus the evil headmaster at school is so cliche to me at this point. It feels very juvenile.)

4. More lore in the show--Albeit, less confusing. I don't remember the show exactly, and I didn't get into the novelizations, but I do recall that the books fleshed out the Legacy Day ceremony a bit more, citing that the current students at EAH were descendants (rather than children) of fairy tale characters, and embracing your destiny was something done for generations--with one disturbing detail being that Ashlynn's mother would eventually die and her father would marry one of her stepsisters, making the new stepmother's daughters Ashlynn's new stepsisters who would make her enslaved. AND EVERYONE KNEW THIS. This circles back to #1 about making being a Royal less terrible. Put emphasis on following your destiny and the history of the world, but I'd prefer to avoid the "we do this every generation" thing; the characters are still descendants of fairy tale characters, but it hasn't been a wash, dry, repeat cycle; it only happens when the descendants' circumstances start to match up precisely with their ancestor's, and it's believing that by following their destiny, they preserve the balance of good and evil. Not to mention, most of the other students don't get to accept or deny their destiny; they're just regular people in that respect, while the special descendants (let's say that Maddie, Raven, and Apple are only a small handful of people who have Legacy Day this school year) get to see what their futures hold. Not to mention it'd be fun to see more of the characters' lives outside of the school, ie Briar's relationship with her younger brothers and the fact that her mom is always tired and her dad (who needs a name; can we avoid nameless characters here?) is always slaying monsters.

5. More emphasis on fairy godparents (and magical characters in general)--I'll always question why Cupid coming to EAH didn't reinvent her as a fairy godmother or something similar. In any case, I like the idea of fairy godparents and their children being one the only major characters in fairy tales who's destiny was flexible and no one had any qualms about it; they were above good or evil (though they typically chose good), and had a business where people would pay for their services, powered by their wish and conviction. Grimm being a fairy godfather would also make sense for his grey mentality in the series. Plus I feel like we don't have enough magical characters, with Cerise, Farrah, and Raven being the few that come to mind.

6. It's not just about Raven--Something I liked about "Monster High" was that while Frankie started off as the main character (before she sadly became underrated), many other characters got the spotlight outside of her. Given that the EAH webseries was story-driven, they gave Raven the spotlight. But I'd like to focus on other characters who may be dealing wit the consequences of following/rejecting their destiny, as well as more people fighting with their "inborn" morality issues, similar to Raven fighting her evil urges.

[sundrop-writes]

Shared Trauma

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

Gar had a very hard day. You know you can’t take away the pain, so you try your best to distract him from it instead.

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 1, Episode 7.

Word Count: 3,600

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: some emotional angst, mentions of trauma/PTSD - Gar kills someone for the first time and is very upset about it (as in the canon), friends to lovers, takes place during Season 1 Episode 7 (“Asylum”), descriptions of canon level violence, this is a smut fic, the reader character is implied to be fat, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, this isn’t a hard sub/dom relationship but there is sub/dom undertones, Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘good boy’ and he really likes it, tiddy sucking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, the reader rides Gar, creampie, quick/desperate sex. I believe that’s everything. Most of the focus here is on the emotional side of things and not the smut so if you wanna see more PWP, definitely let me know.

A/N: fic is titled after a Pierce The Veil song because I have been obsessed with the new album, and I think it really fits here. Having a trauma with someone, but it just draws you closer together and makes you seek comfort in them. I did consider making up a mission that wasn’t in the canon for this, but I am always drawn to how sad, wet, and pathetic he is after killing the scientist, especially if we’re doing sub!Gar - he seems especially subby and in need of comfort.

...

When you woke up alone, you weren’t entirely surprised. 

Of course you missed Gar’s presence beside you in bed. But you hadn’t exactly expected him to be sleeping peacefully after the day the two of you had. 

You and Gar were always the type of best friends to share a bed. Both of you sought the kind of comfort that could only come from cuddling close to the warm body of a safe person. Most often, you could only fall asleep beside each other. 

It had been that way since he had first been taken in by Doctor Caulder and he had come to you for comfort after he had woken up sorely missing his parents. On that first night, you had fallen asleep cradling him, and pretty much every night since then, the two of you shared a bed without question. 

The two of you were just intensely affectionate people, and you saw nothing wrong with expressing your friendship through those simple touches. It was just friendly, after all. 

The two of you always hugged each other tight and held hands while walking in public. There were many times when Gar put his arm around you or kissed you on the forehead, or times when you kissed him on the cheek. You weren’t shy about expressing your very platonic love for your best friend (at least, that’s what you had to tell yourself). 

The two of you weren’t romantically involved - you were just very close best friends. 

No matter what others thought when they looked at you, having those stereotypes in their minds about a guy and girl not being able to be ‘just friends’. Even if you wanted to play into that stereotype so badly with him - even if you wanted all of those people to be right. You would never risk ruining your friendship with him just because of some annoying crush. You were very good at keeping all of your stupid feelings trapped inside of your chest. 

Especially on days like this. When life got hardest, he needed you to be there more as a friend than anything else. And you needed him too. 

It was one of the reasons that he had gotten into bed with you that night, despite the fact that he scoffed at the very mention of trying to sleep. He wanted to be there for you. So you really weren’t surprised when you woke up and the bed was cold, void of his presence. Because of course, he couldn’t sleep. 

It had been a long, hectic, shitty day. 

After everything that had happened, you weren’t even really ‘sleeping’ yourself. 

You were drifting on the edge of consciousness, so exhausted from the day that your body was trying to forcibly knock you out. Between Kory and Dick screwing loudly on one side and Rachel and her birth mother chattering brightly and even crying on the other side, you had been having a very hard time falling asleep. That, and the horrors of the day still flashing through your mind. It made for a deadly cocktail that kept you awake. If not for the pure exhaustion of day’s events weighing you down - then you probably wouldn’t have closed your eyes at all. 

When you came back into a hard consciousness this time, though, you missed the feeling of Gar’s arm around your waist. You instantly missed the feeling of his pleasant warmth at your back - cradling you, making you feel safe. 

Before you even had your fully eyes open, you were out of bed yourself. It was almost an instinct, being so entirely drawn to him. You wandered out to the larger living space of the very expensive condo ‘safehouse’ with your socked feet on the cold floor. You clutched at your own arms under the loose sleeves of your oversized sleep shirt as goosebumps formed on your skin. 

You wondered in the back of your mind what the weather was like outside and if Dick had turned on the heat before going to bed. Then you had to wonder if adjusting the thermostat was even a concern in anyone’s mind after such a long day. It was probably only on your mind now that you were missing your human heater. 

You found Gar sitting on the couch. 

He had his oversized green headphones on, his phone screen providing the only real light in the room - aside from the everpresent glow of the city that leaked in from the tall glass panels that could be called walls in the ultra modern house. He was holding the screen inches away from his face as he slumped back against the unused couch. 

He was likely making an imprint of himself that would be the only ‘lived in’ essence of the overwhelming cold, expensive atmosphere of the place. From the sideways tilt of the screen and the way his thumbs were moving, you easily guessed that he was playing some kind of game. Something to distract his mind from the day’s events still playing there on repeat like a bad movie. 

He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that Dick had given him, dug out of a drawer of clothing that was apparently always kept in the place in case a need for it should come up. Just something else the ‘safehouse’ stocked, like food, medical supplies, and monetary currency from all different countries (because Bruce was rich and paranoid enough to be prepared for ‘any scenario’). 

Gar had paired the pants with one of your tee shirts. 

Something that was slightly big on him even with his natural muscle mass filling it out, bright tie-dye and worn-in cotton. It was purely you. Having the fabric draped over his body did make him feel at least somewhat at ease because it was soaked in your natural smell. It made him feel close to you even when he had gotten out of bed. 

He hadn’t wanted to bother you with his tossing and turning or the bright glowing light of his phone screen when he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly. 

He felt your presence in the room, but he didn’t look up until you crept further toward him, steering into his hazy peripheral view. He shrugged off the headphones as he looked up, locking eyes with you over the top of his phone. Your heart ached as you saw that expression so well illuminated by the sharp white light from the screen. He had the face of a kicked puppy, big wide eyes staring you down. Especially because he was making a clear effort not to let his mouth curl into a deep whimpering frown. 

You knew that the events of the day had been particularly hard on him. 

Of course, there was the obvious. The mental exhaustion and fear of being kidnapped and held hostage. The pulsating adrenaline of wondering if he was going to come out alive, on top of the worry he felt for you, Rachel, Dick, and Kory. The intense physical torture he had suffered at the hands of ‘scientists’ controlled by a doomsday cult. 

But on top of all of it, he had experienced something far worse. Something that you knew was far more taxing on his mind. 

He had killed someone for the first time. 

You feared that he was too gentle for killing. Even with the amazing power he wielded. 

Gar - someone who protested eating meat because he hated the idea of an animal being harmed for the sake of his nutrition. Gar - someone who always scooped up spiders and household pests to bring them outside because in his opinion, even the smallest of creatures deserve peace. 

You knew that he was someone who never planned on using his powers to truly harm anyone. 

But the moment the choice had been presented to him - to use his powers to harm someone, or to let you be harmed - it hadn’t really been a choice in his mind at all. 

You had been backed into a corner. You thought you had been clever, breaking out of the room they had locked you in with nothing more than an earring as a lockpick. But without a weapon and without a plan, Gar saw them threatening you and became blind with rage. 

Before he truly knew what was happening, he tasted flesh. 

A very large part of him didn’t regret it. He would choose your life over the life of someone unknown - someone who was going to hurt you - any day of the week. He knew that, if given the same choice, he would do it all over again. 

But there was another part inside of him that kept gnawing with guilt. Another part that said he was wrong, that said there should have been some other way. Something inside of him that said he was now just the villain in someone else’s story - that he wasn’t any better than the people who tried to hurt you in the first place. 

In a lot of ways, that voice said, he was worse than them. 

That voice made it difficult for him to sleep. 

“Can’t sleep?” You hummed out, approaching the couch to come and sit beside him. 

Gar did little more than shrug in response to the question. He didn’t want to admit the weakness aloud. He didn’t want to tell you that he was warring with guilt over something that the others - especially you - didn’t seem to struggle with. 

You both already knew the answer. It had been a hard day for him. Of course sleep was far beyond his grasp. 

In a silent, but comfortable exchange, Gar locked his phone and set it aside, entirely uncaring of saving his progress in the game while you sat down beside him. You slid onto the couch with your butt half nestled on top of his hip and your legs strung across his lap. He reached one arm in front of you, draping it over the thickness of your thighs. In a very natural move, he lazily wrapped his knuckles around your bare skin. 

Neither of you bothered to acknowledge your lack of pants - the fact that you were only wearing underwear with your oversized sleep shirt. You were so used to each other at this point that casual states of undress didn’t really need to be acknowledged. 

He drew mindless patterns into your skin with his thumb and slung his other arm over the back of the couch, bringing you into his lovely natural warmth. You laid your head onto his chest, easily cuddling into his side as you indulged in the familiarity. With his phone turned off, the darkness ruminating through the room was a silent cloak that enveloped the two of you. It made it much easier to fall into that routine of comfort that the two of you always embraced. 

You would explicitly deny that his touch on your bare skin felt like a deadly trail of needles erupting with fire - in the best way possible. Now was not the time for your lust to be breaking through. He was your best friend, and he was clearly in need of comfort. 

“I missed my human heater.” You mumbled out quietly, nuzzling into his side affectionately. 

He let out a hazy breath - some attempt at a laugh in response to your affectionate nickname for him. It was something he knew well about your friendship. You had a constantly chilly body, and he would always be there to warm you up with his blazen hot skin. Just another perk from his mutation - even when he got stuck out in the snow, he never ran cold. 

Now that you had acknowledged that wordless question (the reason you had gotten out of bed, why you couldn’t sleep), it was Gar’s turn to do the same. 

It hung in the air over his head and turned into a stony silence in the quiet, dark room that made each of his breaths seem particularly heavy beside your ear. It was a tension that built upon itself for a few moments. You weren’t going to ask, even though you had a feeling you virtually already knew the answer. You wondered if he was going to come out and admit it before you simply dragged him back to bed and forced him to stay there out of your own selfish need. 

But then he finally broke the silence by saying the words. 

“Whenever I close my eyes… I just keep seeing his face.” 

His words were tentative, a quiet whimper released into the room after being trapped in his chest for too long. Like electricity, shocking and impossible to avoid, you felt his pain surging through you. It caused your throat to clench painfully. You shifted slightly, turning so that you could get a better look at his face. Even in the dimness, the sad glassiness of his eyes practically glowed. 

“Gar,” 

You called out his name, your own voice giving away a depth of weakness that you held for him. Before you could help it, you were reaching up and cradling the side of his face with a cupped palm. Even though your hands were cool, the feeling was intensely comforting to him - just because it was you. He couldn’t help but lean into it, leaning on your hand as though it was the only thing in the world holding him up in that moment. When he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force some of that terrible guilt away, he accidentally forced the tears out and let them leak freely onto your hand. 

“Oh, baby.” You cooed out. 

You were entirely unsure why the nickname popped out. The sound of it on your own lips even surprised you. It was something you had never called him before. But he didn’t stop you, didn’t seem to find it unpleasant, so you continued. 

“You did what you had to do.” You told him with certainty. “You saved my life.” 

That was something infinitely valuable to him. But he wondered if somehow, he had diminished his own value in the process. 

More thick tears slipped down his face and you thumbed them away upon instinct. He swallowed thickly before he spoke again, though this time his words were heavily entrenched in those tears. 

“What if that man had a family?” Gar sniffled quietly. “What if-?” 

“Of course he had a family, Gar.” You quickly cut him off, knowing that his words were quickly spiraling into a deep, putrid guilt. 

That guilt was definitely something you felt the need to save him from. 

Upon hearing your words, he looked at you with sharp hurt in his eyes. Clearly, he had been expecting you to argue against his point, rather than confirm it. But you had a completely different line of thinking in mind.

“Everyone does.” You continued on. “Everyone has people who miss them. But you can’t waste your sympathy on some fictional family you’ve made up for the guy in your head. Having a family and being missed doesn’t give people the right to attack others and get away with it. The possibility of being missed doesn’t mean that people can go through life without seeing the consequences of their actions.” 

Gar let out a quiet huff. It was a sound of defeat - a signal saying that your words had punctured his surface, but hadn’t quite set in yet. 

When he didn’t say anything in reply, you continued. 

“You’re my family.” You told him firmly. 

You used the hold on his cheek to fully turn his head toward yours, and you gently angled into him so that your foreheads were pressed together. Gar closed his eyes and basked in the soothing feeling as you continued talking. 

“And I’m yours. And I really, truly don’t care about who lives or dies outside of us. I don’t care what happens as long as we’re safe. And we’re together.” 

You wanted to add on a verbal exception for the others - for Rachel, and Dick, and Kory, and likely Rachel’s mom just for her sake. An exception for the people who had quickly also become your family in the short time since you had met them. But you had a feeling that Gar knew about this exception in your mind without you having to voice it. 

Gar swallowed hard again, and this time you felt it bob harshly through him while pressed so closely together. You felt him let out a harsh breath before he spoke again. 

“I guess… I guess I’m just worried about what you think of me now.” He spoke the words so quietly, as if his fear even crept into voicing this. “I don’t want my favorite person in the world to be afraid of me. Or… to think I’m a bad person.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” You quickly argued the point, a slight laughter on your lips at the mere thought of it - at the mention of being afraid of someone like him. 

Yes, he could turn into a giant green tiger, and yes, seeing him use that power to its full extent for the first time had been… jarring. But you would never be afraid of someone who cried during Pixar movies and said it was ‘inhumane’ to kill the animals in Minecraft for food. 

“I could never be afraid of you, Gar.” You easily added on. “You’re not a bad person. You’re such a good person. You’re so good. You’re such a good boy.” 

Those words struck a cord deep within his soul, and a whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. 

“Say that again.” He told you, so pitifully that it almost sounded like begging. “Please?” 

“You’re such a good boy.” You repeated yourself, running your thumb along the soft skin of his cheek once again. “You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

In a moment, the air shifted. 

The magnetism between the two of you came to a fierce head, and the desperation, the vulnerability that the day’s events had brought forward morphed itself from pain and sadness into something the two of you knew well in the presence of each other - pure wanting. But this time, both of you were exhausted and completely lacking the energy to have any self control to hold it back. 

“Y/N-” 

He barely got out a whimper of your name before you pressed forward that extra inch, stealing his breath as you pressed your lips to his. It was a perfect moment - a beautiful culmination of everything you had ever wanted since meeting him. You definitely weren’t going to waste it. 

He moaned into the kiss and you echoed it back, gulping in breaths through your nose so you wouldn’t have to pull away from the soft cushion of his lips, not even for a moment. When he reached for a greedy grip on the back of your head, filthy and wanting, gently nibbling on your bottom lip - your instincts took over. You blindly swung a leg out, climbing over his waist, and he let out a sharp hiss at the feeling of your weight being planted in his lap. You were beautiful and whole as you sat down on top of him, a perfect reminder that this wasn’t just a dream as his cock quickly swelled to life under the heat of your core where it brushed against his borrowed pants. 

“Please-” He whimpered into your mouth, barely able to get the word out before you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan out shakily in the most beautiful way. 

You planted your hands on his shoulders, easily taking control of the situation - not that he cared. He felt like he belonged under your controlling grip, under the pleasant weight of your body as his hard cock throbbed underneath your perfect weight. In a blur of heady kisses, swapping breath with the only man you had ever wanted like this, you got your underwear off and got his pants around his ankles. He shoved your shirt up over your breasts to possessively latch onto one of them with his mouth as you reached down and lined up his pulsing cock with your wet, wanting cunt. 

“Oh-” 

He let out another beautifully pathetic whimper as you sunk down onto him in one smooth movement. Your tight, wet heat quickly surrounded him and made his head spin. You felt so full that it almost choked you, but the hot pangs of electricity that shot up through your pussy easily spurred you on. You wasted no time before you began a brutal pace, bouncing on his lap as if he was nothing more than a toy for your own pleasure. The slap of skin on skin was irritably loud in the otherwise silent room, accompanied only by Gar’s harsh, animalistic pants and your choked-off moans as you struggled to comprehend the fullness of his nearly overwhelming cock. 

You both needed it. You needed the intense sting of pleasure to push out the worries of the day. 

With Gar’s hands gripping at your waist as if you might slip away at any moment and his face buried in your breasts, you almost didn’t hear the quiet murmur of his request when he managed to get the words out beyond that blinding pleasure. 

“Say it again,” He choked out past his harsh breaths. “Please!” 

It took your cock-drunk brain a moment to comprehend it, but when the gears fully churned, you instantly knew what he meant. 

“You’re a good boy,” 

You moaned out, reaching a hand up to pet through his hair. You took a fierce grip on those green locks, never once faltering in the harsh, unforgiving rhythm of your hips as you continued to piston yourself up and down on his cock. 

“You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

“Oh - fuck!” Gar grunted into your chest. 

At the sound of your voice saying this, declaring that he was a good boy - he abruptly came inside you.

[mvrtaiswriting]

Boyfriend x Jean Kirstein. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

turns out the only character that could snap me out of writer's block is horse face. idek why. whatever. i kinda like how this one turned out so.. enjoy :P

gender neutral reader. no pronouns used.

warnings: angst (it ends well-ish), a bit suggestive, mention of toxic behaviour (jealousy, cheating, idk eren is a lil bitch)

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

Taking another sip from the red cup in your hands, you watched everyone enjoying the party, dancing the night away. Everyone plus your boyfriend. Your gaze was locked on him and his new prey as they swayed on the dance floor, the red cup in your hand acting as a disguise. Was he doing it to make you jealous? You weren't quite sure, but at this point you weren't sure if you really wanted to know the answer to that - you didn't know if you would have cared, even. The way his hands grabbed her waist told you this wasn't just a play - Eren wasn't causing a scene, he was enjoying every bit of it. The way his fingers laced on the fabric of her tiny dress, the way his body moved in complete synchrony with hers feeding off every animalistic instinct; you knew this all too well. He had been like this with you too, getting to know every detail of each other's bodies.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you kept staring at them - hoping to feel a glimpse of disgust, a sparkle of jealousy. These emotions were once your go-to-meal, but you must have gotten used to the bitter taste in your mouth because now you felt nothing. Impassible while watching the love you've ached for walking away, trampling on the ruins of everything you had built holding his head up high.

"You might need a refill." Jean chuckled, noticing how you ended up chewing the edges of the cup in your hands. Taking the empty one out of your grip, Jean was quick to replace it with a fuller one. Jumping on the kitchen table, he stared at you for a second, tilting his head slightly as if it could help him decipher the look on your face. Following your gaze, he turned around to see what had your attention.

"Gosh. Still?"

Jean asked, raising his eyebrow. He had lost count of how many times he had to pick up the pieces of your broken heart after a fight with Eren, and he just couldn't believe you were still with him.

"This will be my excuse." you answer, pointing at the newly formed couple, who was now making out right before your eyes.

"My out-of-jail pass. At least he won't cause a scene."

Jean just nodded in response, keeping his eyes locked on you. There were so many things he wanted to say - he wanted to know what was so special about Eren, what made you stay even after being cheated on so many times. Jean wanted to know why you would always go back to the guy who almost hit you during a fight, who ridiculed you in front of everyone - why you would always choose Eren over him. But that night, as every other night, Jean kept silent. He wanted to be there for you, even if that meant being just a friend.

"Cool. Now that you've got your pass, we need to restart the game."

Wrapping his arm around your waist, Jean turned you away from the sight of your stupid boyfriend and walked you to the pool table, just across the dining room. The music that was busting in your ears minutes before now sounded like a muffled cry, covered by the loud laughters and chants of your classmates playing games and getting drunker than ever.

"Collect 2 drinks as you pass from the go!"

Jean winked, before handling you two shots. Finally breaking a smile since the start of the evening, you clinked one of your shot-glass against his.

"Cheers, Jean. Thank you."

A soft smile appeared on your face as you cheered with your best friend, before gulping the liquor down. No more tears would have delved your cheeks - not that night, not ever again. Not for Eren, not anymore.

-

"Connie, for the love of God!"

Your voice filled the room, echoed by the laughters of your friends, in a desperate attempt to understand what the boy in front of you was trying to mime. Trying to win that game was a lost cause. Everyone was now drenched in alcohol - after two beer pong matches and two bets lost, trying to be lucid enough to play mimes was too much to ask. There were no plausible guesses to make, and you were pretty sure it had been Connie's turn for a while now - he probably didn't even know what he was supposed to represent.

Jean had remained by your side all night; not that it was unusual, the two of you were inseparable. Before Eren came into play, you stumbled over the idea of Jean being more than just a friend, but it wasn't long until a pair of green eyes swooped you away.

Resting your head against Jean's shoulder, you reached for your phone. You weren't exactly expecting to find anything, so when you noticed a few missed calls from your boyfriend, you were surprised. Scrolling through your notifications, you noticed some texts from Eren - again, surprisingly. Usually, he didn't even bother telling you he was leaving without you - but this time, it was different.

"You read it. My head feels dizzy and I just don't want to know."

You mumble, passing your unlocked phone to Jean. He was fast to read through the chat, his long fingers quickly sliding down the screen of your phone.

"He blocked you. There's nothing worth reading."

Jean finally said, locking the screen of your phone. Slightly turning towards you, he pressed his lips against your forehead. Despite a certain apathy you had showed the last couple of times something happened between you and Eren, Jean expected this to hurt. Snuggling closer to Jean, you wrapped your arms around his, your face now hidden in the crook of his neck.

Was it pain? No, no. You didn't even read what he said. Realisation. Closure. Relief. That's what it was. Knowing that he had finally gathered the courage to let you go, even if in the most vile of ways, was freeing. The love between the two of you was long gone - it had been months since the last time he had touched you or even remotely cared for you. What kept you together was your desire to fix him, to change him into the better man you had envisioned but that he never was. And Eren made sure to always remind you how despicable he was, how hopeless his soul was - he did it every time he cheated, every time he raised his voice at you, every time he forgot you had a date and left you at home. You had loved him deeply, too much even - but that was never going to be enough. Especially because you only loved the idea of him.

"Can I stay at yours tonight?" you asked, your voice immediately snapping Jean back to reality.

"Don't even have to ask." he replied, holding you tighter into his embrace.

Of course you didn't have to ask. Half of your stuff was at his place anyway, even your toothbrush. Sometimes you stopped there because Jean's apartment was closer to your university's campus. Other times you would sleep at his place because you were hanging out with his roommates Connie and Sasha. Some other times, he would come and pick you up in the middle of the night because you and Eren had a fight and he kicked you out of his dorm. Then there were your cozy saturdays, when you and Jean would binge watch your favourite tv shows. Jean's place was the only home you knew.

-

The end of the night felt like a blur. You weren't sure how you've made it to bed, wearing your pyjama. Opening only one eye, you took a look around you. Some rays of light peeked through the window, the curtains blocking most of the light out - a few weak ray of light filtering through the fabric and lighting up the room. You immediately recognised Jean's room and of course, Jean's bed. Sleeping peacefully next to you, Jean's soft snores filled the room, catching your attention and bringing you back to reality. It was in that moment that you realised just how terrible your headache was, your veins hammering into your skull at every second. Letting out a groan, you adjusted yourself, trying to rearrange the pillow in a way that felt less like concrete and more like a nice, soft arrangement of feathers.

A strong arm gently laced around your waist, pulling you closer to the sleepy boy next to you. Leading your body closer to his, Jean pulled you into a tight embrace before you could realise it, your head now resting on his chest.

"C'mere."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you snuggled closer to Jean's chest, appreciating the warmth of his body. Using his free arm, Jean grabbed the blankets to cover both of you, now almost completely hidden by the duvet.

What happened after was a curious sequence of events, so strange yet so predictable, so complicated yet so simple, so natural yet so craved.

How could you know that carelessly tracing your fingers over his chest could light up such a spark? How could you know that your bodies fitted together perfectly, like the missing piece of a puzzle you waited so long to complete. How could you know that touching him meant feeling loved for the first time. You couldn't. But with your clothes on his bedroom floor and his hands around your waist, you swear you finally knew one thing - you were always looking for love in the wrong place. Nevertheless, it's a known fact that the best place to hide something precious is in plain sight.

[heavenlymorals]

How a Modern Perspective Skews Historical Characters: A Mini Rant on the Hatred of Female Characters in RDR2

This isn't that organized cuz it's more a rant than a retrospective but fuck it it's my blog, I do what I want-

There are so many people who have actual hatred, not criticisms, for Abigail, Molly, Grimshaw, Mary, and other female characters in the Red Dead universe.

And honestly? I find it very interesting. Sure, men will probably always find a reason to hate a female character, but what I find interesting is how many women also hate these wonderfully crafted characters.

It could be so many reasons as to why this may be the case but honestly? I think it's because people forget that they CANNOT analyze this game authentically through the modern lens of morals and behaviors. This game takes place in 1899 America. Let me say it again. This game takes place in 1899 America.

One more time, just for good measure- this game takes place in FUCKING 1899 America. Women had to be dependent on men because otherwise? They'll either be in poverty, exploited, killed, or all three. There was also the honor system. When had to be the moral high ground for their family so them messing up has consequences on their fathers, mothers, siblings, cousins, and anyone connected to their family name.

Abigail getting pissy at John for getting in trouble all the time? If course it'd feel annoying if you're looking at it through the modern perspective but when you don't, it's a woman telling her man to act like a man and be careful because if he doesn't, she and her son will be destitute and destroyed.

Mary not getting with Arthur but using him? What's the likely hood that the law would bother to help Mary when the two people she needs help with are her father and brother- two grown men who can make their own choices that she literally can do nothing about because as a woman, it wasn't her place to dictate what they do. Arthur was her only option. "Girl, what her family thinks doesn't matter, she still should've gotten with him" girl no, because it's much harder and difficult than that- it's like tearing away an entire identity that you depend on to fucking survive.

"but what about Sadie? She was also living during this time period and she isn't drowned by societal expectations-"

Seriously. Do some research, read a book, expand your knowledge of gender roles and what that entails for people because it explains so many things about these characters in such a human way. They aren't "bitches", they are women of their time and people have to understand that.

No. Sadie isn't a part of this discussion because though she is a fun character and an amazing character, she is a mishmash of historical women who did masculine things to survive at one point but then went back to traditional roles, even if they did occasionally go back to to those old activities for sport sometimes, like Anne Oakley or Calamity Jane. Sadie's entire character is basically "but what if they didn't and committed to the nontraditional lifestyle". There are many inconsistencies that Rockstar did regarding the time period that they established earlier to accommodate Sadie's character better. Sadie is a great character but she doesn't belong in this discussion.

Edit: Ok, since this was a rant, as mentioned previously, I was a bit too rushed with the Sadie aspect of this post and ignored some crucial details. I'm not gonna change the post besides just this though. @hillbillyhipster84 made some great points that Sadie was a reference to Appalachian women and real outlaw women who did run and were accomplices in men's crimes, that I was too ignorant to mention prior beforehand because I didn't do much research. I still don't believe that People should use Sadie to bash the other women though, because those women mentioned above were not the status quo and thus were more trivialized because of it.

So many cultures still operate like this too so if anything, you're just learning something new about another culture.

But I swear, anytime someone talks shit about these characters, y'all got me looking like this-

[arsynnotarson]

so. you wanna start making ug subs (underground subliminals)? let the ex ug sub maker explain some stuff

disclaimer: this is only how to make! this doc is a great starting point for the other things like manifesting and what not

firstly: get your materials

the main thing you need is something to read affirmations. using a tts software is what most, if not all submakers use. i use the software balabolka, which lets you change the pitch, speed, and volume of the text, but free tts and ttsmp3 are websites you can also use, though they do come with usage and character limits, which is a pain if you plan on doing longer and more detailed subs. you can also read out your own affirmations too instead, which might work better depending on what you believe.

the next thing you need is some audio. youtube to mp3 and YtMp3 (beware of viruses) are two of which i used if you have something off youtube you wanna use. i recommend asmr (for those of you that like it) of any type; rain is a common audio choice, but i see slime asmr, clicking asmr, you name it, used too. music is also a good choice, but ive heard that music with lyrics can mess with your subconscious, but all that's limiting you is your own beliefs. also, a critique ive heard on music is that it can get repetitive and you might not want to listen to it over and over if you plan on reusing a subliminal (but then again so can any audio, so who's to say?)

the final thing you need is something to mix the two together. a software like capcut can work, but so can a software like audacity.

optional: something to make the sub into a video with. wanna incorporate your transition goals / desired results as images into your sub? good choice. you can use capcut for that, as thats what ive used.

secondly: writing affs (affirmations)

so now youve got yourself prepared, now comes the main attraction of subliminals: the affirmations. make sure to visualize what you want for the best affs, as it helps with making sure you got everything down and dont accidentally leave out an aff or two you made this whole subliminal around.

now, you can use the law of assumption or law of attraction, but i focus on law of assumption-type affs, as that's what works best for me. here are some base affirmations:

"i have [blank]"

"i have always had [blank]"

"i know i have [blank]"

short and straight to the point affs like this are what ive found to work best personally. dont be afraid to go all out with these, either: your subconscious knows what you want. its very smart. be as detailed as you want.

make as many affs as you see fit, as its your reality you're affirming.

thirdly: mixing the affs + audio

go into the software i assume you have gotten by now and throw those two little mp3s (your affs and audio) into it.

you're gonna wanna make your affs quiet, or at least quieter than the audio, but not mute. the plan with this is that your conscious hears the audio, but your subconscious hears the affirmations and takes it as truth. your conscious is none the wiser. you should set the affs' audio to be just enough to where you yourself can't hear them.

speeding up the affs is a common thing people do (but it might make the affs easier to hear so make sure to relisten to make sure that doesnt happen), but its not an absolute need.

extra: layering affs

layering is putting affirmation audio over another affirmation audio. it can be the same affs, either more sped up, slowed down, or even reversed, or an entirely new set of affs. this can be used to kill two birds with one stone so to speak depending on how you use it, or can make your subliminals stronger / more effective.

extra: bundling subliminals / bundles

bundles are subliminals that combine two subliminals into one mp3. while this might sound like layering, and while it is similar, its taking two completed affs / subs and putting them together (hence bundle) into one mp3. an example would be subliminal x and subliminal y are both about topic z, so they could be bundled into subliminal xy and be "z bundle" (i really hope that made sense)

extra: booster subliminals

booster subliminals (or, "boosters") are made to enhance, speed up, or overall help your results come quicker. this can be achieved by just simply writing affs like "all of my desired results are here already" and bundling / layering it with other subliminal audios (make sure to make as quiet as the affs!!)

extra: formulas

formulas are ways of writing affirmations. some formulas work wonders, and become staples of some sub makers creative process, and because of this, a lot of submakers are protective of it. you can make your own formulas, too, so test out the waters to see which style of affs help you the most!!

extra: angel numbers

angel numbers are the same number that repeats in succession, typically in threes and fours. an example would be 111, 333, 888, 9999, and so on. angel numbers are seen as signs from the universe that your results are coming true as a whole, but each set has their own meanings. you can also choose to assign a certain angel number to assure you of your results, to make sure youre not running into coincidences.

extra: frequencies

certain frequencies can help you attract certain energies. 432Hz can attract happiness, which very helpful when affirming, as happiness helps results come faster, in my experience.

anyways, this has been arsyn's official tutorial on sub making!! remember, you can manifest anything you want. keep believing. stay safe

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

I often see people describe Spider as a neglected child. Do you think that is totally accurate? Would Norm and the other scientists have set rules and boundaries? If Lo’ak and Spider did something stupid together would Jake punish both of them? What would a scene like this look like?

Hello! I know you sent this question to other creators like a month ago. Sorry this took me so long to get to. I’ve been busy and I really wanted to give a detailed answer to this but I could just never make the time until now.

So short answer yes I definitely think Spider is a neglected child.

Long answer:

While I do believe some of his basic physical needs were met like food/water/shelter I don’t believe all his physical needs were met. First is just basic safety and while I don’t think his foster parents the McCosker’s physical beat him they definitely didn’t seem to care about him. From what we see in the comics and in the movie Spider was allowed to leave the base by himself at a very young age, like around 7-8 from the look of him. I personally take huge issue with this. I’d love to know how far away the village is from Hells Gate because maybe if it was super close, like you could see it from base kind of close, then I don’t think it’d be as bad but either way your letting a child, who is already super tiny compared to his huge surroundings loose in a jungle that we are told point blank from Jake’s narration is dangerous! Like it’s one thing to let your kid walk to a friends house to teach them independence but what parent would let their child do that if they could be potentially eaten by a tiger or trampled by a rhino. But that’s exactly what the scientist and the McCoskers are letting Spider do! That is just so negligent to me.

Next is Spider’s hair which I know we talk to death about for a lot of different reasons. So I actually have the exact same hair texture that we see baby Spider having so I can personally attest to it tangling easily when not properly maintained. After looking at 7-8 year old Spider i feel like I can pretty confidently say those aren’t dreads they’re mats. That’s what dry, unwashed, un brushed curly hair looks like after weeks.

From my research children typically need help with taking care of their hair until around age 12 and so the fact that his hair is matted tells me no body is helping him. And that could lead to issues down the line because matted hair can grow mold which will obviously make you sick. Even when we see Spider at 16 he hasn’t learned how to maintain his dreadlocks properly. They’re uneven, there’s unlocked hair sticking out all over the place. Really to me it looks more like he did his best to do something with his hair after all the childhood neglect. So yeah not putting in the effort to properly take care of a child’s hair when they’re to young to do it themselves is a form of physical neglect in my eyes

Now onto bigger issues.

We see from the comics that Spider’s foster parents just flat out don’t care about him. Other creators have gotten into that so I won’t go on about it. What I will go on about though is that I think it’s a failure of every adult that saw how neglectful and uncaring the McCosker’s where to Spider but did nothing. They did nothing because it was easier for them to do nothing. Sometimes foster placements don’t work out and when that happens you find an alternative until you find something that best fits the child. They didn’t do that! They did what was easiest for the adults and that was to turn a blind eye. I’m guessing after the events of the high ground comics that Spider didn’t even really have a guardian to answer to. He was basically just a ward of the rebels. I really do hope we get to see him interact with characters like Norm and Max post his kidnapping because from what we see in the movie Kiri was the only one worried about him. I think it would have been nice if during the scene where Jake and Norm are talking about Kiri’s seizer Jake asked if Norm had any new information about Spider, so we the audience would see that these adults do care about this kid. We don’t get that though.

And honestly I take huge issue with Jake’s treatment of Spider. I didn’t like it when I first watched the movie and never felt like he earned the “son for a son” line because again we never even saw him care about Spider aside from him asking Neytiri not to kill him which is beyond bare minimum. Reading the comics made me straight up appalled. My jaw hit the ground during the climax of the story when they are being chased by R.D.A, shot at, the forest is burning and Jake told Spider to turn himself in because he was slowing them down! And my poor boy just promised to keep up!

And I know Jake believes that they won’t hurt Spider because he’s just a kid but 1. Why would you even think that? Seriously what evidence do you have that the R.D.A wouldn’t hurt this kid. They are your enemy! They’re literally shooting at you as you speak! What makes you think they wouldn’t shoot Spider on site! Why would you even take that chance with a child’s life! Even if they do accept his surrender then what? Are you okay with this kid being sent back to Earth? Or being forced to live on the R.d.A’s base with little to no say of what happens to him? And 2. They do hurt him! A year later when Spider gets kidnapped Ardmore was willing to turn Spider into a vegetable to get the information she wanted! The only reason that didn’t happen was because Quaritch stopped him. This is just going to be an all me rant for a second but I could never leave a child behind like Jake did with Spider. I don’t care how tough you think he is he’s 16! And he was left in the enemies hands on an absolutely insane amount of good faith that they wouldn’t stoop low enough to hurt him. They fucking tortured him. And if Jake had at least payed lip service to being worried about Spider I’d be slightly more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and say there was nothing he could do to get Spider out of Bridgehead, he had to protect his others kids. But he doesn’t. He says that Spider’s a tough kid and that’s that.

So to wrap this up Spider was incredibly neglected. Based off of everything I said above it seems to me that the adults provided bare minimum necessities and then just let him run wild which is no way to treat a child especially when their young. We’d be here all day if I started up on the emotional neglect of this boy. I truly hope we get to see Jake treat Spider better in the next movie and that we get to see Spider interact with Norm and Max.

Those are my thoughts. If anyone disagrees I’d be happy to have a respectful conversation about it. I’m always curious to hear other people’s opinions. 💙