#but usually i feel like everyone hates me

[v6quewrlds]

❝ candy paint, l. norris. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: lando norris is a lot of things: 100% honest is not one of them. good thing you're around to make sure he owns his weaknesses.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: first lando fic everyone cheer!! finding my footing writing lando's personality (dry asf) but I'll get there lmao day three of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends with benefits, the max mentioned is fewtrell not verstappen, oral (male receiving)protected sex, neither reader nor lando can shut the fuck up.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: lando norris x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2k.

"You're kidding, right?" you said into the phone, your voice laced with a hint of skepticism. The rain pattered against the window of your apartment, matching the rhythm of your thoughts. You had just returned from a week-long work trip and were looking forward to a quiet evening in.

Lando's voice was as persistent as the rain outside. "Come on, mate. It's been too long. You know I can't wait." His tone was a blend of playful and demanding, the kind that usually made your heart flutter. But this time, you had to draw a line.

"Lando, seriously," you said, a smirk playing on your lips. "What about your little bet with Max?" The mention of Max's name brought a mischievous glint to your eye. You knew how much he hated losing, especially to his friends.

Lando chuckled, the sound echoing through the line. "I wasn't sticking to the bet anyway. I've got to see you." His voice grew husky with desire, the kind of voice that made your knees wobble and your resolve waver. "I'll come to you."

You hesitated, your eyes narrowing as you considered his plea. The thought of seeing Lando sent a warm shiver down your spine. You could almost feel his strong hands gripping your hips, his breath hot on your neck. "Fine," you relented. "But if you want to come over, I'm telling Max you caved."

"You wouldn't," Lando said with mock horror, and you could almost hear his grin.

"Oh, I absolutely would," you replied, the challenge in your voice unmistakable. "You're the one begging to see me, remember?"

The line went quiet for a beat, and then Lando sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine, whatever. I'll be there in twenty."

Twenty minutes later, the sound of the door opening and closing was like music to your ears. You felt the heat of Lando's presence before you even saw him. He was soaking wet from the rain outside, his white t-shirt clinging to his muscular chest. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him. "You look like a drowned rat," you said, standing up from the couch where you had been scrolling through your phone.

"Charming," Lando shot back with a smirk, shaking his wet hair like a dog and spraying droplets across the floor. He stepped closer to you, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the freshness of rain. "But it's worth it if it means I get to see this gorgeous face." He leaned in to kiss you, but you playfully pushed him away. "What, no greeting for the man who braved the storm to see you?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Take off your clothes before you drench the whole place," you said, stepping aside. You watched as he peeled off his shirt, revealing the defined abdomen and muscular arms that had your knees growing weaker by the second. You made no effort to hide your eyes sweeping over his form as you bit your bottom lip.

He kicked off his shoes and socks, leaving a puddle by the door. "Better?" he asked, a glint in his eye as he moved closer.

"Marginally," you replied, trying to keep your cool. But when Lando's hands reached for your waist, pulling you into his warm embrace, you melted against him. His touch was like a warm blanket on a cold night, comforting and revitalizing all at once.

You kissed with an intensity that spoke of weeks of pent-up longing, your tongues dancing in a familiar rhythm. His hands slid down your back, cupping your ass, and you felt his erection pressing against your thigh. "You're going to be the end of me," he murmured against your lips.

You pulled away just enough to whisper, "You're the one who couldn't wait." You stepped back, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. With a swift motion, you straddled him, your cotton shorts riding up your thighs. Lando's hands roamed up your legs, his thumbs teasing the hem, hinting at what was to come.

Your round brown eyes searched his emerald ones, a silent question lingering between you two. "You sure you're ready to lose?" you asked, your voice low and sultry. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant patter of rain.

Lando's grin was all the answer you needed. "Love, I'd do anything to taste you right now." His thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts, and with a quick pull, they were around your ankles. He groaned as he felt the heat of your bare skin against his.

You giggled, a sound that was music to his ears, and leaned back, placing your hands on his shoulders. "Well, you're in luck," you said, your voice dripping with seduction. "Because I'm feeling quite generous."

Without breaking eye contact, Lando reached for the waistband of his sweats pulling it down with a slow, deliberate movement. His erection sprang free, and you couldn't help but gasp. He was always so beautifully aroused, so ready for you. You slid your hand over it, feeling it pulse beneath your touch.

He groaned, his eyes closing briefly before snapping open again. "Don't tease me," he warned, his voice strained.

"Who's teasing?" you said, your smile wicked. You kneeled off the couch, your soft dark curls brushing against his chest, and took him in your mouth. Lando's grip tightened on the couch cushions, his body arching off the cushions with a hiss.

"Fuck, babe," he groaned, his eyes rolling back. Your mouth was warm and wet, moving over him with the kind of expertise that only came from knowing someone's body intimately. You took him deep, your tongue swirling around the head before pulling back to tease the sensitive underside. You knew every inch of him, every spot that made him squirm, and every spot that made him beg.

You felt a rush of power, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you watched Lando's reaction. You loved the way he lost control around you, the way his cocky exterior crumbled to reveal the desperate need beneath. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper each time, until you felt his thighs tense and his hips jerk upwards.

"Goddammit," he breathed, his hands finding their way into your hair, guiding your movements. "I can't wait anymore." He pulled you off him, his eyes dark with need. "Get on top," he said, his voice a gruff command.

Your heart raced as you straddled him, your own desire matching his. You watched as he reached into the pocket of his sweats, retrieving a condom he casually slid over his length. Then you felt him at your entrance, his fingers eagerly pushing your panties to the side, and with a little wiggle, you sank down, enveloping him in your warmth. Lando's eyes rolled back in his head, a silent groan escaping his lips. The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, a sweet ache that you had missed.

You found your rhythm quickly, your bodies moving together as if you had been practicing this dance your whole life. Lando's hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips as you rode him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons of pressure as you rose and fell. Each time you took him in, you felt like you were claiming a piece of him, a piece that was yours and yours alone.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, a testament to your passion. You leaned forward, your breasts brushing against Lando's chest, and whispered, "Couldn't even go two weeks, could you?" Your voice was teasing, but it held an underlying satisfaction. You knew you had the power to make him break his bet.

"Fuck the bet," Lando groaned, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "You're all I need." His words were punctuated by his hips bucking upwards, pushing into you with a desperation that sent a shiver down your spine. The room grew hotter, the scent of your desire mixing with the dampness from the rain outside.

Your movements grew more frantic, their breaths mingling in the air. The couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the intensity of your passion. You felt yourself getting closer, your inner muscles tightening around him. Lando's grip on your hips grew firmer, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Come for me," he urged, his eyes burning into yours. "Let go, baby."

You threw your head back, your dark curls bouncing off your shoulders as you picked up your pace. The sensations grew more intense, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. Lando's hands moved from your hips to your breasts, his hands squeezing at the bouncing flesh before leaning down to bring his mouth to the peaks. You gasped, the pleasure shooting straight to your core.

"Yes, just like that," you moaned, your voice a little raspy. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts sent shockwaves through your body. You felt your orgasm approaching, the familiar coil tightening in your belly. You leaned into him, your movements becoming erratic as you chased the feeling.

Lando could feel you tightening around him, your breath coming in short gasps. He knew you were close, and it was his undoing. He thrust upwards, his own release building. "Fuck," he groaned, his eyes meeting yours, silently pleading for you to let go.

With a cry, you did. Your orgasm washed over you, making your body convulse. You felt him swell inside you, his own climax following closely behind. You held onto each other tightly, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony until the waves of pleasure subsided.

For a moment, you stayed just like that, panting and sweaty, your hearts hammering in your chests. Then, Lando leaned in to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips that spoke of affection and satisfaction. He pulled out of you with a soft groan, and you felt a twinge of loss. But the warmth of his body remained, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

"You're amazing," he murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that made your skin prickle. You leaned into the embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. This was your thing, your little slice of heaven, left uncomplicated despite your close friendship.

You lay there for a while, your bodies entwined and your breaths slowing. The rain outside had turned into a gentle pitter-patter, lulling you into a state of post-coital bliss. It was moments like these that made the world seem to stop spinning, where the only thing that mattered was the warmth of each other's skin and the sound of your hearts beating in unison.

You leaned back and looked into his green eyes, the corners of your mouth curling up in a knowing smile. "So," you began, "Are you going to man up and text Max now, or should I?"

Lando groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushion. "You're enjoying this way too much," he said, a hint of a grin playing on his lips.

"I like seeing you squirm," you replied, your voice light and playful. You reached for your phone on the coffee table, your eyes gleaming with mischief. You knew Lando was competitive to a fault and losing was not something he took kindly to, especially not when it came to something as serious as a bet with Max.

Lando's eyes narrowed playfully as he watched you type away, his arms still around your waist. "Don't be too detailed," he murmured, his grip tightening slightly.

You glanced up at him, your smile widening. "Oh, I won't," you said sweetly, sending the text. "But he's going to know you didn't last five minutes."

Lando's eyes shot open. "You didn't!"

"Oh, I did," you said with a laugh, the sound like a melody in the quiet room. "And you know what?"

He tugged on your hair gently, bringing you closer. "What?"

"It was worth it," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. "Every single second."

You kissed him softly, your tongue darting out to trace his bottom lip. Lando's eyes closed, savoring the moment, his arms tightening around you. He knew you were right, that the thrill of being with you was worth any bet.

[writerdownbookworder]

“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.

Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?

A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.

“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.

I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”

He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”

“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it. 

By the time I got there, it was too late.

“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.” 

It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.

I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer. 

Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”

I stubbornly ignore him.

He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”

He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.

Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”

“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”

Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”

“Why do you-”

“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years! 

“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”

I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”

Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”

He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.

The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.

Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.

I chose the latter.

your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times

[my-castles-crumbling]

prank - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 497

It's dark. The room James has been shoved into is small, and he can sense another person in the cramped space. Silently, he curses Sirius and everyone he loves, because for an extremely smart person, this prank is decidedly uncreative and inconvenient. But this is what James gets for letting Sirius take the fall for their prank last week so he could still go to Quidditch practice.

"Who's there?" he sighs, resigned to the fact that he's stuck there for a bit.

"Potter?"

"Regulus?"

There's a scoff. "Of course he'd lock me in here with you."

And James is a bit put off by that, because what's wrong with him in particular? "What's wrong with me?" he asks, frowning.

"You annoy me," Regulus retorts simply.

Rolling his eyes, James snorts. It makes him uncomfortable, to know how much Regulus dislikes him. It's been even more obvious than usual lately, and he hates it. "Probably why he put us both in here. Did you piss him off?"

There's silence, but it speaks volumes.

"Well. He's mad at me, too. Figures," James sighs.

They stand awkwardly for a moment before a thought pops into James's mind, so ridiculous that he laughs out loud.

"What, Potter?" Regulus asks, voice dripping with annoyance.

"Nothing! Nothing, it's just....wouldn't he be pissed if he came here to let us out and found the whole thing had backfired," James chuckles, knowing he's probably just making Regulus more angry, but picturing his friend's face.

Regulus makes a noise of confusion. "Backfired?"

"You know...like he finds us...dunno, snogging, or something!" James says it because it's a silly idea. Because it would never happen. Because he doesn't think before he speaks.

But as he does, the air suddenly thickens and Regulus doesn't laugh.

And then, time completely standing still, a cool hand touches his shoulder. "What if he did?" Regulus asks, his voice full of an emotion James cannot place.

"Well," James clears his throat, his brain suddenly foggy. "He'd...he'd be really...confused, I guess. He'd..."

"Hmmm....we'd turn the tables on him," Regulus murmurs, and James can feel breath fanning over his cheek.

But honestly, Sirius is now the furthest thing from James's mind. He's decidedly distracted. "Yeah..." he mumbles. "it'd be..."

Lips claim his, and his world completely tilts on it's axis. He's completely consumed by the way Regulus kisses him- with passion fiery enough to light the dark room they're trapped in. He chokes out between kisses, "-t-thought you hated me."

"I do. I think. Maybe," Regulus hisses into his mouth.

He stops thinking. Presses the other boy against the wall and loses all track of time. Hands and lips roam and his mind melts to the feeling of Regulus, the sounds of the younger boy groaning in his mouth.

Until the door opens, causing light to spill into the room.

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK?" Sirius cries, seeing the two of them intertwined.

But James doesn't even care. "Hey, Pads," he says, giving a shit-eating grin.

[babygorewhore]

Cherry flavored.

Best friend Rafe Cameron x curvy!fem reader

Rafe is your best friend since kindergarten. Even though you’re opposites, including being the daughter of a preacher, you still are inseparable. But one day he invites you to a pool party and you find out his dirty little secret.

Hiiiiii this was inspired by talking to @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs and @bloodibambiidoll thank you my loves and I hope you enjoy!! Dividers are by @cxrrodedcoffin I also wanted to make the reader curvy/plus sized from a request from an anon!

Warnings! Perv rafe! Panty stealing! Preachers daughter reader! Talks of bad body image! Mention of partying! Male masturbation! Size kink! Oral fem receiving! Inexperienced reader! Choking! Unprotected sex! Daddy kink! Cum play! Multiple orgasms! Pussy slapping! Degrading! Praise! Talk of male oral!

“You’re being so dramatic.” Rafe repeated as he drove you home. You glared at him and smacked his arm lightly. Even intoxicated, you still tossed back his sassy attitude.

You didn’t party often. Usually you were too busy working or studying part time college courses. When you also weren’t helping your pastor father conduct activities for church.

You and Rafe were lifelong best friends. Ever since kindergarten in the private school, when you slapped him across the face for stealing your box of crayons. You two were a funny pair. The preachers daughter, a single inexperienced girl who was insecure with Kook King Rafe with the successful family. Rafe was always pushing you to let loose. Stop being so rigid and tonight you listened. But you drank way too much and now you had a pounding headache.

Rafe pulled up to your house, sighing as you dug through your purse against your plush thighs. The skirt was still covering the meat of your legs. You searched for pain relief pills and took them with the bottle of water. Quirking an eyebrow, you met his stare that was focused on your clothing.

“What are you looking at?”

Rafe snorted and leaned his head back against the seat. “You know just because you’re a Jesus freak, doesn’t mean you have to dress like the Virgin Mary.”

That made you pinch his exposed skin and he chuckled.

“How do you expect to get laid when you wear that shit? Dress like a normal girl. Cross and all.” Rafe reached over and tugged lightly at your necklace. You let him, feeling the warmth from his fingers radiate on your flesh.

“Newsflash Rafe, guys don’t like girls who look like me. And it’s better that I accept that. I don’t need anyone telling me that I look bad when I know that.”

“That’s your problem, babe. You have no confidence. You’re hot and everyone sees that. But you gotta believe it.”

It wasn’t the first time Rafe said this to you but the alcohol stirred a forbidden fire between your thighs. You hid it by looking away.

“Thanks for the ride home.”

Rafe shrugged. “Aight. See you later.”

Rafe felt like a fucking virgin as he tugged at his dick with your panties when he got home. His eyes squeezing shut and cum coating his hand as he imagined your angelic body bouncing on it. He wanted to squeeze your curves, lick and kiss every inch of your body. Rafe wanted to selfishly devour your pussy for not only your pleasure but his own. He wanted to hear your moans and how he affected you.

He wanted to see your lips wrapped around his cock and tongue licking up what you caused.

He’d always found you attractive. And he hated being a stereotype of falling for his best friend.

But goddamn he wanted you. If only his pride didn’t get in the way from grabbing your pretty little face and kissing you tonight.

When he spilled his load into your panties, he groaned and cleaned himself off shortly after. Rafe was texting you, a normal activity even though you had to get up early.

He invited you to a pool party at his loft. It made him angry to think of other men enjoying your presence but any excuse to get you here he’d take it. He also bought you a swimsuit. A bikini.

Did he only know your size because he snuck into your room to steal panties? Yeah but that was between him and God.

Rafe responded by insisting he wanted you there and you finally agreed. And would wear the swimsuit. His dick twitched when you sent him a selfie of you pouring over your Bible, especially since you weren’t wearing a bra.

You held onto the wrap that covered your body as you navigated the large apartment. You’d been to Rafe’s house hundreds of times despite your father’s clear distain for him. Rafe didn’t usually step foot into the church. But he picked you up again today. You’d explained you couldn’t find some of your items and he seemed a little too suspiciously concerned.

You’d changed into the gifted swimsuit after Sunday service. But wore a black covering over it. Your silver cross dangled above your breasts as you sat on a lounge chair. Rafe’s friends swam, drank and meandered as he came out. He was shirtless, wearing a SnapBack and exposing his muscular body.

That same secret sensation came over you watching your best friend greet people. He clapped Topper on the back. His smile cocky as he showed off his workout gains. You pressed your thighs together, shoving down any reaction as he caught your eye.

Rafe disappeared when he brought you both here, apparently to change. He sauntered over to you and gave you a body scan. “Nah, come on. What’s that shit? Take it off.”

You gripped it tighter and pressed your back against the chair. “No. It’s too revealing.”

Rafe rolled his eyes and squinted at you. “Sweetheart, it’s a pool party. Pretty sure everyone here is half naked. Take it off. Show off what I bought you.”

You remained still and Rafe wasn’t pleased by your stubbornness. You shrieked as he hauled you up, his arms scooping underneath your legs and your hands clutched his shoulders.

“Put me down, asshole!”

Rafe chuckled as you squirmed. “That’s what happens when you don’t wanna listen, sweets.” With a wink, he jumped into the pool. He brought you above water, watching in an unreadable expression at the sight of your coverup falling.

The water dripped as you wiped your eyes, moving your hair back. Your tits bounced at your movement, neck exposed fully as you worked to the edge of the pool. The bikini would absolutely show most of your ass if you got out.

“Rafe! I’m gonna punch you in the face, fucker!” You growled and splashed him. Rafe caught your hand, pulling you closer and pressed you against him.

“Now is that any way to act around your best friend? Doesn’t the Bible say to treat your friends well?” He teased and his hands settled on your hips.

Your pulse raised but you tried to keep your composure. “Yeah but just because I follow Christ doesn’t mean I can’t swing on you.” You offered and he smirked. “Especially when you jump into the pool with me! You could have snapped your spine.”

Rafe scoffed. “I know for a fact you didn’t insult me like that. I lifted you just fine, didn’t I? I could beat your ass if I wanted to. Easily.”

You pushed at his chest, making him take a step back. “I’d like to see you try, blondie.”

He licked his teeth and nodded. You narrowed your eyes as you knew that look. He was plotting something. Splashes from the guests made you turn your head briefly but you felt Rafe’s hands return to your body. His fingers tightening on your skin, pressing into the plush flesh of your waist.

“You know, you have one hell of a slick mouth. Shame you don’t put it to better use.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. Rafe hadn’t really hinted at something like that between you. He never really indicated anything past surface level acknowledgement of your features. But now, his blue eyes drank in the sight of you. Especially on your tits that the swimsuit hugged.

“Rafe, come on bro! Quit eye fucking your best friend and get your ass over here!” Someone called and you took the interruption as the key to move back.

You climbed out of the pool, fully showing your curves under the sun with water glistening. Turning, you saw Rafe looking at your body. Immediately you crossed your arms, grabbed a towel and rushed back inside the house.

You went into Rafe’s room with a sigh. You’d borrow one of his shirts before so you knew he wouldn’t mind if you did again. Opening his drawer, you gasped.

Several pairs of your panties were there. Coated in white. Crumpled up. Your mouth hung as you also saw photos you’d both taken together. A sample of your perfume.

“Fucking pervert…” You whispered with wide eyes. You threw on a tshirt, feeling it comfortably around your body.

You covered your lips, shock overwhelming you. Rafe was stealing your underwear. Acting so innocent around you after. How long had this been going on?

You sat on his bed, trying to collect your thoughts. Readying for asking him when he inevitably comes in.

You didn’t realize you fell asleep until you snapped your eyes open at the sound of the door closing. Rafe smoothed his hair back, shorts damp.

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came when he saw the open drawer. You didn’t know what to expect. Rafe licked his lips, apparently scrambling for an explanation.

“Rafe, why did you take my panties?”

He straightened his back. “Because I wanted to. What other reason would I?” His response surprised you in honesty.

“I didn’t think you liked me like that.” You answered and he frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean yeah we’re best friends but don’t be naive.” You rolled your eyes at his flippancy.

“Naive? Rafe, you’ve never said anything. And then I find you’ve been stealing and jerking off with my panties. Like a pervert.”

He stepped forward and crossed over to you quickly. Rafe grabbed the collar of the shirt and tugged.

“Calling me a pervert, huh? Don’t act like you don’t like the idea of me fucking my fist to the thought of you. Don’t act all innocent, cherry.” You swatted his hand.

“Don’t joke, Rafe. A guy like you doesn’t like a girl like me and don’t pretend.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Rafe asked and dropped his fingers.

“I’m not skinny! I’m not like the other girls you’ve fucked or anything. I can’t even swim at a party because I’m too embarrassed of myself. It would be…weird for anyone to see you like me.” You gestured to your body and held out your hands. “I have half a mind to think you’re pranking me right now. No way a guy like you would fuck a girl like me.”

Before you had a chance to insult yourself further, Rafe’s large hands cupped your face and smashed your lips together. You made a noise of surprise, his mouth moving against yours deeply as his right palm slid down your back. He sucked your lower lip, nipping lightly with his teeth.

Rafe walked you back to the bed, his tongue memorizing your mouth as the back of your knees hit the mattress. He pulled back, inches away.

“I don’t wanna hear that talk outta you. Especially since your tits are barely covered under my shirt. I wanna defile the little preachers daughter.”

His dirty words made you whimper and Rafe brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Cmon. You know it’s perfect. Your first time should be with me, your best friend.” He gave you a sly smile but you looked down.

“It’s not my first time but…”

Rafe lifted your chin, making you meet his eyes. “But what, cherry? Did the Guy bust his load too quick?”

“I didn’t cum. He just fucked me a few seconds and that’s it.” Your body heated with embarrassment and Rafe snarled.

“You know that doesn’t count.” He started to lift his shirt off you but you shifted. “I’ve been entertaining this long enough and I’m gonna make sure your little needy pussy gets what she needs.” Rafe yanked the material off, groaning at the sight of your breasts and body.

His warm palms cupped your chest, squeezing them as he pushed you on your back. The strings of the bikini started to come untied. He closed his lips around your nipple, sucking it. You whined, stomach clenching as Rafe nudged your legs apart.

“Mmm, needed this didn’t you, baby? Needed daddy to worship your pretty body?” He whispered and kissed down your stomach. You looked down at him shyly but Rafe’s eyes hardened with lust. He snapped the strings and peeled them off your thighs. Exposing your puffy cunt.

“Goddamn, princess. No wonder your dad wants to keep you locked up. Making me feel like a dog.” Rafe pushed your knees apart, spreading your folds and open mouth kissed your pelvis. You rolled your hips as he cupped your ass with a light smack.

“Mhm, yeah I’ve been wanting to taste this pussy. Even dreamed about it.” He licked a thick stripe over your clit and you shrieked. You knew it felt good but the way Rafe hungrily lapped at your cunt was unbelievable.

You couldn’t stay still, the way he buried his whole face. Sucking and spitting following with pressured motions with his tongue. He was fully tasting you. Your legs hugged his head but he held your knees further up. Spreading you as far as he could.

“Fuck, you taste so good, princess. So sweet for acting like a little slut. Mmm,” Rafe hummed as his dick grinds down on the bed. You were moaning and gripping his hair. It was overwhelming as he sucked your clit, licking the sensitive part selfishly.

“I-I’m gonna cum!” You wailed and Rafe nodded with a grunt. The uncoiling of your belly came undone with a violent shudder and tears blurred your vision. Your tits were aching as Rafe continued working you over.

He was torturing you, keeping you still as his mouth stuck to your pussy.

“Daddy, please! Please, please, I can’t-“ You begged and finally, he slowed down but traveled kisses up your torso. Rafe’s hands kneaded your ass, hips as he licked your pulse point.

“Yeah? Sweet girl can’t handle me licking your pussy? flavored like a cherry,” He taunted and slapped your pussy. You exclaimed when he pulled his shorts off, letting you see his dick.

He was big. Girthy and it leaked with precum. Your mouth watered and Rafe smirked.

“You wanna suck it? That’s cute, sweetheart. You wanna get on your knees like when you pray to your God? Too bad.” You protested but Rafe slapped your inner thighs.

“Whining isn’t gonna work right now, doll. You’re gonna cream on my dick before you suck it clean.” Rafe ran the tip along your slit, smearing cum along your entrance and slowly pushed in.

Alot of pressure pinched and your eyes widened. “Oh, it won’t fit! It won’t fit!” You babbled but Rafe growled. He held onto your hips, his thumbs almost bruising you.

“I’m not playing this little game. You can take it, oh that’s my girl. Atta girl, that’s what I like to see,” Rafe praised as your eyes rolled back, his thumb massaged your clit. “Being such a good little slut for daddy. Squeezing me like that.” Rafe thrusted deeply, his balls slapping and your mouth hung open.

“Right there, right there, daddy. Please, I’m your good girl.” You sobbed and Rafe’s hand wrapped around your throat. Not enough to hurt but your pussy fucking throbbed at how good it felt.

“Yeah. You’re my good girl. Mine. My pretty little whore taking my cock. Creaming on it like a champion. Acting so innocent under those ridiculous skirts.” Rafe gritted his teeth as you moaned louder and louder. He knew you’d be sensitive but this was better than any fantasy.

“Yeah, that’s right. You can do it. You can keep taking it. Take my dick, you little slut. Making me fuck myself with your panties too long.” Rafe gave you a particularly hard thrust and you screamed. Sending you over the edge and you cried. Your orgasm hit you so hard you almost went limp as he gripped the headboard with one hand. His other palm cupping your wrists and holding them above your head.

He kissed you with brute force as his cum spilled into you. Rafe humped you through it, sloppily making out with you as you silently panted. Your strength was leaving you as Rafe pulled out, jerking his cock and covering your tits with cum. Marking you. It was filthy, the way he licked it up after.

He hovered over you, examining your expression as you twitched with aftershock. Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead, cheeks and nose. “You’re so pretty when you come. You’re a doll baby.” He smiled at you. Genuinely. You looked at him with half closed lids.

“So, you want to be my boyfriend?” You quietly asked and Rafe nodded.

“Yeah. I mean spraying you with cum kinda sealed the deal, baby.” Your cunt pulsed as he kissed your neck.

“I wanna taste you now.” You whispered and Rafe lifted his head. Lips glistening.

“Oh I don’t think you know what you’ve done. Now that I took it easy on you, I’m really gonna fuck you like a slut. Then you’re gonna wear your cum filled panties during church. So God can see who you really worship.”

Tagging: @cameronsprincess @sturnioloshacker @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @redhead1180 @gri959 @take-everything-you-can @decodedlvr @stillwjk-channie-lixie @webbluvrsugar @starkeysbabygirl

[necromancelena]

Whenever i don't feel like eating i usually trick myself with one of two imaginary scenarios to make it more appealing. So when i make something with steps i pretend I'm the personal chef of a venerable king who is in his final years and eats alone these days and only trusts me to make his food and he's like. Well respected because he's ruled for like 60 years and the first 20 of those were spent away from home being a tactical genius in a devastating war and now he's kind of resentful of palace luxury like I'll pretend a bologna sandwich is like. Artisanal bread and fancy cured meats from the northern provinces and the whole time i resent him because he lives in such luxury that I, the castle chef, could never have, and while everyone worships him i see him at his weakest because he's so private and he knows i hate his ass but he says he knows he's safe because unlike everyone else I can't hide my hatred of him behind a mask like all those scheming nobles at court. And he knows I can't be bought as an assassin because in spite of my hatred for the king i see too much of my own disgust for the world in him.

And then if i make a frozen meal i pretend I'm trapped on an ice planet for years and years in a station where everyone died. There's a great entity at the heart of this planet that i can feel but not see. Its intentions are unknowable to me but sometimes i garner it's interest and it warps reality with its very observation of me. This planet is filled with monsters but I can't even trust my own perception because nothing i know applies here. And I've been alone so long that I wouldn't trust my senses anyway. I talk to the ships computer so my brain doesn't rot but it's just filled with prewritten responses. Or it should be. But sometimes it says things it cannot say, knows things it should not know. And then i crack open a nitrient pack from stasis (frozen mac n cheese) and eat it like I'm starving and can only ration one meal per day but i need to keep up my strength.

And then playing pretend makes the food seem yummier so i eat it safe n sound

[brainddeadd]

She's a really nice woman who appears to only hate you, but it's just that she's awkward and has a crush on you

You’ve noticed that Jenna Ortega is kind to everyone—her smile is a staple on set, and she’s genuinely sweet with the cast and crew. But around you, she’s different. Reserved, curt, maybe even a little annoyed at times, she barely seems to tolerate your presence. It stings, especially since you’re pretty sure you’ve never done anything to provoke her.

It becomes something of a mystery, and her behavior only deepens it. You catch her stealing glances when she thinks you’re not looking, or she’ll blush when your shoulders accidentally brush on set. When you laugh with friends, she’s always nearby, watching with a small, guarded smile. You can’t tell if she’s irritated by you or just painfully shy.

One night, after filming a late scene, Jenna’s still around, sitting in a quiet corner with a notebook. Taking a deep breath, you decide to confront her—gently, of course, but you need to know why she seems to have an issue with you.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask, only half-joking, as you sit down across from her.

She looks taken aback, stammering slightly as her cheeks flush. “Hate you?” she repeats. “I don’t— I mean, I could never hate you.”

You blink, not expecting the softness in her voice, or the vulnerability in her eyes as she looks down, fiddling with the corner of her notebook.

“I just…” she starts, then lets out a shy laugh. “I’m really bad at this kind of thing. I guess… I just didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“Why not?” You lean in, the tension thick between you.

Jenna takes a breath, glancing up at you before looking away again. “Because I like you,” she murmurs, so quietly you almost don’t catch it.

You sit there, a little stunned, as her words sink in. She likes you. You’d imagined so many scenarios, but this wasn’t one of them. Jenna Ortega, the Jenna Ortega, had been acting strange around you because she liked you?

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but her eyes drop to the floor, and she starts to fidget with her notebook, clearly embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “That… was probably weird. You didn’t need to know all that. I’ll just—”

“Wait,” you say quickly, reaching out before she can close herself off completely. Your fingers brush over hers, warm and steady, and she looks up at you, her expression uncertain.

You’re close enough now to see the faint freckles across her cheeks, the way her lashes cast soft shadows under her eyes. She doesn’t pull her hand away, and something about that gives you a little burst of courage.

“I thought you hated me,” you admit with a sheepish laugh, realizing how silly it sounds now. “Every time we talked, it felt like you were annoyed or, I don’t know… like I’d done something wrong.”

Jenna winces a little, but her lips twitch into a small, shy smile. “I wasn’t annoyed. It’s just… being around you makes me nervous.” Her eyes dart up to meet yours. “In a good way. Mostly.”

Your heart stumbles over itself at her admission, warmth flooding through you at the vulnerability she’s showing. Her usual confidence is nowhere to be seen, and you can’t help but find it completely endearing.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you say softly, still holding her hand, “you make me nervous, too.”

She blinks at you, a hint of surprise in her eyes, and then her smile widens, slow and sincere. The tension that had lingered between you two, the quiet distance that had once felt so insurmountable, suddenly doesn’t seem so impossible after all.

You squeeze her hand gently. “Do you maybe want to… get coffee sometime? Just the two of us?”

Jenna’s eyes brighten, a spark of excitement she’s no longer trying to hide. “Yeah,” she says, a little breathlessly. “I’d really like that.”

The two of you share a quiet smile, and in that moment, it’s like the world outside disappears. There’s only Jenna, with her soft gaze fixed on you, her fingers still tangled with yours, and the gentle promise of something new blooming between you both.

[starmapz]

you know, i wasn't going to make a post about this so as not to give this anon the satisfaction of a response, but they've been blocked so they won't see this anyway and i think there's a bigger issue to address here.

i want to start by saying that i've got thick skin and this doesn't affect me in the way they clearly would like it to. it says much more about them than it does about me and i've got bigger fish to fry than some insecure anon.

what i DO want to address is the fact that i've seen more and more posts popping up lately about how some people need to be nicer to authors and while this applies not just to authors but to everyone, i do feel it's worth mentioning that in all honesty i'm glad this came to me and not someone who may be put down by a message like this. i know the anon button tends to make some people much more bold but if at any point you ever think of sending anon hate to someone, maybe take a moment to consider how foolish of a notion that is.

on the topic of authors in particular, please bear in mind that we do this for free, in our spare time. i work a full time job, this is just a fun hobby for me. imagine if you shared your hobby with the world and someone anonymously told you it was bad, how would that make you feel? i'm quite fortunate that this sort of thing doesn't get to me but that doesn't make it any nicer of a message.

on a much lighter and somewhat unrelated note, i also received a very nice text from a wrong number around the same time as i read this message, so i think they cancel one another out lmao. just thought that was funny.

anyway, sorry for the much more serious post than my usual content, but please, as a reminder, be nice to authors, and for that matter be nice to everyone. you never know what someone else is going through, and even if you do, it's no excuse to be hateful or rude.

[alipeeps]

Hah!! I knew it!! (I'm onto your storytelling tricks now GJM!!)

Yeeeah you coulda acted a little quicker though Zhuo Yichen... like before Pei Sijing got thrown into a pillar... (although on second thoughts, no, fuck her traitorous ass, as you were Zhuo Yichen, you're good....)

Oh god, the angst of it all...

If he were to die, the burden would just be passed to someone else. He would be condemning someone else to the pain and self-loathing that he feels.

Oh dang, the bottle he drinks from all the time is a liquid that helps suppress malicious energy!! He's literally dosing himself all day every day to try and stay in control!!

Shit, he is visibly shaking with effort, struggle to keep even a smidgen of control, and begging Ying Zhao to kill him before it's too late

Wait, what's grandpa gonna do? Why's he telling Ying Lei goodbye?!!

Did he... did he just fucking sacrifice himself to help suppress Zhu Yan?! Did he put his... spirit?... into Zhu Yan to help suppress the malicious qi?

That might save everyone's lives but jfc that is NOT going to help Zhu Yan's guilt/self-loathing problem!!

Oh GOD the usually carefree and silly Ying Lei outright SOBBING over his grandpa is fucking killing me!

Good god, his FACE. He looks happy at first... I guess that the blood moon is over and he is in control? But then he looks up and sees... sees the aftermath... of what HE has done...

My poor fucking boy. He is so tormented. 😭

He is indeed grandpa

So they've got a month where the malicious qi won't affect him...

I'm still not sure I understand what it is he's done to himself to get those scars? Was he being literal about lightning strikes? And secluding himself *after* the blood moon... why? To let the malicious qi levels lessen?

God the visuals of this show!!

Sure ya do buddy.

Why are you no match for Li Lun? I thought you were badass demon? Oooh wait up though... the subs on iQiyi said "I'm no match for Li Lun"... but the subs on the my downloaded file say "I can't kill Li Lun". Which is it? Because one is can't as in not able to... and the other might mean can't as in can't bring myself to...

Oh wait what? It can?

Oh god Ying Lei's grief has me genuinely crying.

No she hasn't, they're having to take turns at the scenic moping spot and Zhu Yan had it most of the night...

Yeah you DESERVE to be hated girl cos Zhu Yan didn't have a choice... you did. He was literally being controlled by malicious energy. Regardless of what Chongwu camp used to get you to spy for them, you made the choice to.

WHO? Who should have almost completed his great mission by now? Cos that did not sound like you were talking about Zhao Yunzhou there...

I STG if you fuckers pull the rug out from under me by making Xiao Bai be a fucking spy too I will cut a bitch...

Aaaaand the next scene jumps straight to Xiao Bai. Don't you do it. Don't you fucking dare!!

Oooh they've somehow all magically got furry winter clothes now...

Oh dang, my boy's had a mountain god makeover.

Awww he's leaving the gang to stay there?

Oh god damn don't give the magic travel device to the fucking spy. She'll land you all straight into the middle of Chongwu camp instead of where you want to go...

Yeeeeeaaaah that ain't all it means mate... 😂

They're all having protracted heartfelt goodbyes... and where is my poor Zhu Yan?

Group hug!! For everybody except the Great Demon Zhu Yan... 😭

Ugh that was an emotional rollercoaster and I am exhausted.

[raviollies]

actually no im gonna yap

im trying SO HARD to gaslight myself into liking veilguard but so many narrative choices just make me scratch my head. I AM NOT DONE, I currently gotta go to Weisshaupt.

I'll start with things I like so far:

1. I think the game is really pretty and I like the puzzles :) Antiva is GORGEOUS, I think one of the prettiest areas in the entire series.

2. I really like the Minrathous/Treviso choice. More of that please! some actual drama and consequence!

3. Assan is adorable and I cannot walk past without petting him. I didn't anticipate myself liking Davrin so much since I'm usually drawn to magic babies over warriors, but he's probably my favourite alongside Bellara. I think him having left his clan is very interesting narrative choice (I am totally not biased considering it's very similar to Daee's story)

4. Thank you lord almighty for the wardrobe/mirror system. Godbless.

5. Everytime Lucanis speaks I think of Puss in Boots and that brings me great joy. Whimsy even.

6. When you place Tevinter decor in the lighthouse, they have a Hookah right beside a fresco of Solas killing Mythal and that is mind bogglingly hilarious. I do love that the Shadow dragons know how to unwind. We're turning up after fighting for elf rights.

7. Solas surviving entirely on meat, raisins and honey feels very r/malelivingspace

Things I am Not Liking So Far

1.Minrathous feels utterly toothless. Its described as terrible, den of slavery, conversion therapy through blood magic, treatment of elves being terrible - yet we walk around unimpeded. I expected a similar experience as the Winter Palace, or fights that could be avoided if playing as a human.

LAVELLAN is introduced in the TEVINTER TAVERN, wearing TEVINTER CLOTHING, like it doesn't...make much sense to me? Inquisition set up the cross roads with Morrigan AND the Inquisitior, it feels like it would have made much more sense narratively not just from..."I am the fucking Inquisitor In Fucking Minrathous" but "Solas and the crossroads are a vital connecting point of these characters story."

Speaking of Inquisitor, wildly bizarre to me that neither Solas nor Varric comment on you meeting them. Solas has a weird painting of the Inquisitor chair, but you meet the mf face to face and he just does't acknowledge it. I am not a Solavellan player but I felt Really Bad For Them In That Moment.

I think a good moment of comparison is the difference in tone of DAI and DATV...When we find out the orb is elven in DAI, Solas warns us to keep it to ourselves, with Lavellan even remaking that the world will blame us for Corypheus. In DATV, we inform everyone that Elven gods are attacking, and there's no thought or conversation about the impacts of that on Elves in society. The only one to mention it is Davrin way after we've been spilling the beans left and right.

2. I'm not done the story but hey has anyone mentioned we haven't fought a single Fen'Harel agent, what's up with that... I expected to be fighting Elves based on the epilogue in Tresspasser but ?? ???

3. I'm sorry I HATE THEM DISREGARDING THE WELL OF SORROWS IN FAVOUR OF MORRIGAN WHEN SOLAS MAKES A HUGE DEAL OF YOU BEING TIED TO MYTHAL IF YOU DRANK FROM THE WELL. Oh sorry, if it was unimportant then why the fuck did you go on a monologue about how you're "her creature" and connected to her. It felt like a retcon of the importance placed on it in Inquisition and how much of a deal both Solas AND Morrigan make about it. I'm sorry picking a ROMANCE was more important than acknowledging THIS?? ? ??

"But Ravie, they can't account for Inquisitors personality and making them important would piss people off" then just kill them off. If they're set on Morrigan carrying this piece of narrative, I would have written the Inquisitor off the table before the choice becomes relevant. Have them help you in the ritual at the start of the game and die. I feel similarly about Varric, because he feels like the writers stuffed him in the closet to not talk which just...JUST KILL HIM. Its better than being relegated to furniture!!!!

3. Speaking of Morrigan why the hell is so nice. This is not my beautiful mean witch wife. In fact everyone is nice. Even hardened Lucanis has been polite to me.

4. I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH ROOK. I profoundly hate starting off friends with Varric (and him getting shelved like what was the point). It ruins a lot of initial RP for character establishment, because it limits how the player character FEELs about the whole thing, your motivations are GIVEN to you. Furthermore, it feels like rook HAS an established character. I don't feel like I got to play my rook, just say things slightly differently based on an already established character. I dont feel like I am roleplaying a custom character, just as Biowares stand in protagonist. Maybe I'm just spoiled by the level of interaction that BG3 provided me.

The opening sequence is bizarre to me, because IF I MAKING THE STORY....I would have had the introductory quests for each of the companions be the first quest based on the faction you select (Shadow dragons with Neve, Mournwatch with Emmerich, Crows with Lucanis etc. etc.) That way you establish your character based on the faction and immediately get a little tutorial on what kind of character you're going to be playing. I would even keep the introductory quests the same with minor dialogue tweaks. The ritual would come after the tutorial prologue mission and then you start with Harding and the companion you got introduced with, since the order you get them...really doesn't matter or impact anything.

5. I think the Venatori and Antaam following Elven Mage Gods is kinda dumb. Sorry. I thought they both looked down on them for being either Elves or Mages/didn't even acknowledge them. What the hell is their goal anyway

My criticisms comes down to...I don't know what themes the game is trying to tackle? The game SAYS things but doesn't actually do anything with these topics. Minrathous HAS a slavery problem but we don't see it. Treviso is ruled by a faction of assassins but it's like a good thing! Elven gods are responsible for everything wrong in the world, but the narrative implications of what that means for modern elves are acknowledged in passing like acknowledging the weather. The game feels hesitant to actually unpack any of these things despite being the one to put them on the table.

Anyway I am going to finish the game and probably play on Daee with a Solavellan Inquisitor to see if that improves my experience by picking a character who is more tailored to the Rook they portray/not having an emotional connection to the Inky, but atm...Man I Had Hopes. Made me feel stupid for getting so hyped up for a conclusion to a story arc for a character THEY SPECIFICALLY LEFT ON A CLIFFHANGER FOR A DECADE. I'll just draw art, lie face down in the ground and imagine a more narratively satisfying conclusion to my Inquisitors story.

[cmdrfupa]

Birthday Girl

Shoko x Fem!Reader

The first gentle beams of late-morning sunlight stretched across the room, spilling over the half-drawn curtains and landing softly on Shoko’s face. She blinked, wincing at the light before rolling over with a groggy sigh. You laid beside her, reading through the morning news. You heard her groans and watched her come to life with a soft, amused smile.

“Happy birthday, sunshine,” you murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair off Shoko’s forehead.

Shoko squinted up at you, still half-asleep. “Feels the same as yesterday,” she muttered, her voice thick and low with sleep.

“Well, that’s the beauty of aging gracefully, isn’t it?” You teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on her forehead. Shoko gave a small, drowsy smile, her hand coming up to rest on yours.

“Mmm, I’ll take gracefully over anything dramatic,” she replied, sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you closer. “But you’re really gonna stay in bed all day and flatter me? Or are you plotting something?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Who says I can’t do both?”

Shoko laughed, low and soft, then tugged you closer. “I knew you had an ulterior motive.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spoil you,” you replied swiftly, tone half-serious, half-teasing. You brushed your fingers through Shoko’s hair, letting the comfortable silence fill the air for a moment. “Besides, it’s your birthday. I thought maybe you’d want a change from… I don’t know, the usual?”

“Oh?” Shoko raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her dark eyes. “And what exactly is ‘the usual’ to you?”

You made a thoughtful face. “Well, we could start with your usual breakfast of reheated coffee, fresh cigarette and a banana on the go. A real celebration of elegance.”

“Hey,” Shoko protested, pretending to look offended. “That banana is a staple. And I’d like to see you pull an all-nighter and still make time for breakfast.” But there was no real bite in her voice—only that familiar dry humor she wielded like a subtle weapon, hiding warmth beneath her sarcasm.

You grinned, unfazed. “I know, I know. But for once, I’d like you to enjoy something fresh. Something made right in front of you, with love, preferably.”

Shoko smirked, feigning skepticism. “Something edible and that I didn’t have to prepare myself? This might actually be a birthday miracle.”

You laughed, playfully swatting Shoko’s arm before nestling back into her side, resting your head on Shoko’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s not that far-fetched. I even bought all the ingredients last night. You’re getting the works. Eggs, toast, maybe even something sweet to top it off.”

“Hmm,” Shoko hummed, closing her eyes. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to impress me.”

“Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m trying to remind you to take it easy for once.”

There was a soft warmth in your voice, a kind of gentle insistence that made Shoko’s expression soften. She tilted her head slightly, pressing her lips to your forehead.

“Alright, alright,” she conceded. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll indulge in this grand birthday breakfast of yours. But only if you agree not to hold it over my head the next time I’m on a hospital shift.”

With a victorious grin, your face lit up. “Deal.”

You both laid there for a moment, savoring the stillness, until Shoko gave you a gentle nudge.

“Well, since you’re so set on making my day special, what else do you have planned? Don’t tell me it’s just breakfast,” Shoko teased, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Oh, there’s a bit more,” you whispered, looking smug. “But I’m not going to give everything away. That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Shoko arched an eyebrow. “You know I hate surprises.”

You laughed softly, teasing. “You hate everyone fussing over you. There’s a difference.”

Shoko rolled her eyes, but there was no mistaking the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, so what’s the compromise?”

“I’ll tell you one thing, and you get to choose which part. Morning or evening?”

Shoko pretended to consider this seriously, crossing her arms and tapping a finger against her cheek. “Let’s go with evening. Save the suspense for later.”

Eyes sparkling with excitement, you propped yourself up and grinned. “Oh, you’re gonna love it. Tonight, I booked a private stargazing spot for us, just outside the city. They’re even setting up a little campfire for us.”

For a moment, Shoko just stared at you, surprised. “Stargazing? Out in the wild?”

You nodded, expression softening. “I know you don’t get much time away from… everything. Thought you’d appreciate a few quiet hours out there. Just us.”

The idea touched her more than she’d expected. Shoko reached out, squeezing your hand before kissing your palm. “That sounds… perfect. Thank you.”

A faint heat crept over your cheeks, but you only smiled and squeezed Shoko’s hand back.

“But,” Shoko added, a wry glint returning to her eyes, “you are still going to make me that birthday breakfast, right?”

Rollin your eyes, you laughed. “Of course. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll even throw in a side of coffee that wasn’t made twelve hours ago.”

“Wow. Now that’s what I call love,” Shoko deadpanned, chuckling as she leaned over to kiss you.

With one last playful nudge, you slid out of bed, grabbing Shoko’s hand and tugging her along. “Come on, birthday girl. Let’s start this day off right.”

You headed into the kitchen, the morning light now fully spilling through the windows, stretching out the warm glow across the small, cozy kitchen. Shoko watched you move around, humming softly, handling each ingredient with care. She could feel the quiet affection in every movement, every glance—a kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures or dramatic words to feel profound.

As she sipped her freshly brewed coffee, Shoko leaned back in her chair, a genuine smile on her lips as she took in the moment. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

[fishii-writes]

alibi - reo mikage

paring: reo x gn!reader

cw: not proofread, intended lowercase, probably ooc reo (SORRY.), murder, mentions of blood (nothing graphic!), reo is a tiny bit possessive, a bit of swearing ("bastard", "assed"), lwk shitty ending. lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i wrote this in like maybe 30 minutes... writers block kicked my ass but hey i wrote for once 🤯🤯 hope you enjoy, requests are open and i'm open to interactions as usual! forgive me this is shitty.

word count: 1111

based off the song alibi

it’s a common saying, red is the colour of love. who should deny it, love hearts, roses and everything nice are red! including the liquid staining your hands, clothes and skin. only a few specks of it flicked onto your white shirt, but your hands and face say otherwise.

another day, another night of killing under cover. you feel your shoulders loosen tiredly, watching the last desperate breaths escape the crimson liquid source. one last breath, their fingers that were curling in the air in futile attempt to cling onto, maybe life you think, fall to the floor. you flop down a safe distance away from the body, sighing out.

you hear clapping behind you, a short round of applause that anyone could guess are sarcastic. but not anyone could guess who the audience is. no one would even guess.

“my, my, [name]. you’ve outdone yourself once more~” a flirty voice, one you didn’t expect to hear, calls out. you don’t need to turn around to know what sick bastard was flirting with you, even after he watched you murder a person. a living being. well, now not living.

“mikage.” a name, or rather, last name, you hate having to leave your lips. you don’t turn around still, but you know he’s doing that — oh so cute — thing where he tilts his head slightly and pouts those pretty pink lips.

“how many times have i said, just call me reo? what, you’re tryna practice my last name before you take it?” he teases, walking closer. you can hear it, he wasn’t discreet about it either. he stops right behind you, looking down and smiling. a drop dead gorgeous smile, one that was sure to charm anyone who sees it.

you throw your head back, propped up on your arms as you lean back a bit, looking up at the — undeniably gorgeous — purple haired man.

“hmmm~?” he hums, teasing smirk on his lips. you roll your eyes.

“no. i’ve said it before, i’ll say it again. i don’t want to associate with you.” your eyebrows furrow at his sickeningly sweet smile. his smile doesn’t falter as he talks, its almost scary.

“might you remind me why?” his lips morph into a borderline fear-inducing grin, or maybe its his eyes. they do say, “its in the eyes.” yeah. maybe it is the eyes.

those ethereal lavender eyes, ones that glare holes into the backs of people who talk to you, people who touch you, your victims that speak back — basically everyone who isn’t him.

“because we are nothing. you give me orders to kill, i do. you’re not even a-” you get cut off by his smile suddenly fading, and his eyebrows furrowing so harshly they change the shape of his eyes.

“[name]. get up.” his tone changes, from flirty and sweet to as ordering as he is when giving you missions.

you look at him, a confused and weirded out look. he repeats his order, his voice laced with urgency and concern. you refuse again, so he — as gently as he can, but unfortunately, the haste made it rough — grabs your arm, dragging you to stand up and points to a large pillar.

“hide behind it, when they come in, run.” he whisper-shouts, gently rubbing the spot he grabbed your arm.

“mikage- what’s going on?!” without realising it, you also whisper-shout. he shakes his head, as if to say he won’t tell you.

“mikage!” you raise your voice, causing him to give you a dirty glare. a look he’s never looked at you with, let alone a glare.

scoffing in defeat, you drag yourself with a half-assed sense of urgency, to hide behind the pillar reo instructed. you peak over the edge, confused. it doesn’t make sense, not at all. but on the other hand, he’s a man of his word. he wouldn’t lie, roughly handle you and glare at you for no reason.

just as you’re about to question, he cuts you off.

“say, [name]. what were you going to say? what am i “not even”?” he asks, in a semi-bitter tone. but his eyes give him away. they look at you with a hint of guilt, of sadness and somehow love.

ew! reo mikage, the reo mikage! in love? with you? how scandalous!

if him being the head of an agency that hires people such as yourself to kill, yeah, that’s right. if that isn’t scandalous enough already.

“i was… i was gonna say, you’re not even an accomplice…” you mutter, and he somehow hears you from the distance he stands. he smiles, almost a little sadly. before shrugging.

“i don’t know, maybe i like another word better.” you watch as his smile almost screams cockiness.

but that’s when you notice. whenever he usually comes in after you finish, he stands beside you. never in direct view of the door, or any windows. so are you looking too far into this when you realise he’s walking backwards, slowly but surely, towards the door?

“mikage…” you mumble under your breath, hands sweaty from clinging onto the corner of the pillar.

“[name].” his eyes are serene, loving, even.

“mikage!” you yell out. he shrugs, eyes almost animated as his lashes touch his upper eyelids. oh.

“mikage don’t you dare do it-” you yell out again, pushing yourself off the pillar and running towards him. he simply winks, blowing you a kiss.

“have fun, and remember two things. one, call me reo.” he giggles, it’s terrifying.

“what do you mean?! are you serious?!” you freeze in place, as he shoos you away in a playful manner. but his now open eyes betray his feigned innocence.

“and two. i’m your alibi~” he blows you another kiss, before you hear loud sirens. red and blue lights seep through the small crack in the entrance doors, one of two exits in this abandoned warehouse.

“go, now. don’t want my love to go to waste. well, i guess we could both rot in jail together. ah! how romantic~” he does that — stupidly charming, even in this situation — thing again, he tilts his head and pokes the tip of his index finger into his plush cheek.

“reo!!” you yell out, watching him point to the exit once more. he mouths the words “go now”, and you do as he says. just in time, as well. the sirens blare even louder when you’re outside, they’ll turn off when he’s inside.

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[littlemissmentallyunstable]

HIII OK SO THIS IS A REALLY SPECIFIC REQ SO IF U CANT DO IT THEN ITS ALL GOOD

so

COULD U DO AVERY X BESTFRIEND!READER (PLATONIC OFC) WHERE HER BESTGRIEND IS LIKE A SINGER / ACTRESS

MAYBE THE READER JS GOING THROUGH A ROUGH SPOT W JAMESON AND AVERY COMFORTS HER.

JUST SOME BESTIE LOVE YK

hi!! I’m SO SO SO SO SO SO INSANELY sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to this request it was literally requested on the 20th of august and I feel so bad!! but I finally finished and I hope you enjoy

title: she’s always there

pairing: avery x bestfriend!reader (platonic)

synopsis: after a fight with jameson you know you need avery at your side to make things right again

warnings: mild swearing

a/n: three months too late but I didn’t forget you, hope you enjoy anon :))

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

The door slams shut. The sound echoes through my ears, bouncing around my head, a painful reminder of all that had just exploded. I stumble forwards, my fingers shaking on the doorknob. I want to run to him but my legs are stuck in an invisible cement. So my body gives way and I crumble to the floor.

Tears blur my vision as I shake in a pathetic heap. My chest hurts with each ugly sob. I hate fighting, but I hate this even more. This pain, this agony. I sob harder until my throat is so raw only cracked sounds come out.

I stay there for what feels like hours, maybe even days. I’m heavy with exhaustion and grief. I know I need to get up but I don’t move. I can’t will myself out of this position. Fear flickers in the pit of my stomach. Why can’t I get up? I have no energy, no motivation.

Nothing, I feel nothing.

But even the dread of feeling nothing doesn’t even pull me from the numbness. My skin is thickened with a layer of senselessness. I’m too weighted by my own sadness to move. This happened before, this happened last time, this couldn’t happen again.

I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. The sound almost deafening. I’m taking sharp jagged breaths that I can’t control. I need Avery.

I need her more than anything right now. She promised me if things got bad again that she would be one call away. And she made me promise that I’d call her. I couldn’t break my promise, I’m not a person who breaks their promises.

But I haven’t seen her in weeks and what if she only thinks I call her when I’m struggling? What if she thinks I’m using her? What if she gets tired and just walks out like everyone else?

I usually block out ‘the before’. But I can remember snippets, like how I couldn’t to get out of bed, to get off of the floor, to move, to eat, to take care of myself and how I felt then I’m starting to feel now. An icy coolness is pulsating through my veins, so sharp that I can’t feel it anymore.

My phone is next to my face. I can see it. But my finger feels like they’re being dragged down my a large iron ball and chain. I can’t even reach my phone for my emergency contact. My hollow chest begins to throb.

“Call Avery,” I whisper to my phone, “please call Avery. I need her.”

One ring. Tw-

“Ave,” I murmur, my voice shaking.

She replies almost instantly, “what’s wrong?”

She’s sharp, she’s ready, she’s immediate. She’s going to help me pull myself together, I tell myself.

“I need you,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say other than the truth. I can’t sugarcoat anything now. I’m not fine. I can’t move.

“I’m coming,” Avery tells me.

“It’s getting bad again,” I snivel the words just blurting out before there’s enough time for them to be filtered

I feel her freeze for a moment, “bad?”

“I’m stuck on the floor,” I mumble, my throat hoarse and sore, “I can’t move.”

“Just wait there okay,” she comforts, “I’m coming.”

“My life is a mess,” I ramble, not being able to stop myself. I’ve lost control, over my mind, over my body, over my words.

“I’ll be over in two minutes okay, stay on the line with me,” she says urgently.

“I’m sorry,” I say choking out another sob, “I’m so so sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” she says firmly but with kindness behind her tone, “just sit tight and I’m coming.”

“Okay,” I exhale, trying to ignore the lump growing in my throat.

“What happened?” she asks so softly I just want to melt into even more of a puddle of a human being. I’m halfway there, my limbs sprawled every which way, my tearstained face covered by a curtain of hair.

“Everything went wrong,” I tremble, not knowing how else to describe it. The scene plays out in the mind again and again, a pitiless record of pain on loop.

“What’s everything?” Avery asks, her voice so mellow, so gentle, so calm.

“Jameson.”

His name sends a twinge of pain across my chest.

“Oh sweetie I’m sure it’s okay,” she says, “it’s normal for couples to fight.”

“Not like this,” I shake my head as if she can see me.

“Let me in and we’ll talk about it,” she says.

“You’re outside?” I ask my voice opting for the tone of a vulnerable child. She’d arrived faster than I thought she would.

“Yes,” she confirms.

“Door’s unlocked,” I murmur, the words kind of slurring into one another as I said them.

“I might get a speeding ticket tomorrow but it’ll be worth it,” the door opens, “besides Alisa will probably be able to get me out of it.”

“Mmmm,” I respond, feeling tired, each of my limbs weighing me down as if they were made of lead.

“Sweetie you need to stand up,” she tells me gently, I can feel her hand running up and down my arm rhythmically.

“I can’t,” I wheeze, everything was so heavy it ached.

“You can,” Avery replies, “I’m going to help you.”

“I’m tired,” I groan, my vision blurring as my eyelids fall shut.

“Then we can go to bed,” she says.

My lips quiver, “Avery?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs.

“I can’t stand up,” I whisper, the ghost of my voice vibrating against my throat, “I can’t do it.”

“Here then let’s sit up first,” she says.

Slowly she helps me into a sitting position. The world feels a little hazy. My head rolls backwards and thumps on the wall, it’s too heavy to hold up.

A flicker of pain spreads across the back of my head, the first real feeling in my state of numbness. She wraps her arms around me and I fall into her softly crying. I don’t know if it’s the pain in my head or the pain in my heart endorsing the tears but I don’t care.

She holds me tightly and tenderly as if she might never let go. I fear if she does I’ll fall apart and break into millions of pieces on the floor that can never be put back together again. My entire body shakes as my tears dampen my best friend’s shirt.

“Come on,” she says slowly, helping me to my feet after a long bout of silence.

I don’t want to move but my legs are willed too having obtained pins and needles from my static state. I don’t know how she managed to get me thinking about something other than my absence of feeling, allowing me to walk, but she did. We slump down on the sofa together and I curl up into her grip. I don’t want to let Avery go, not when my mind is retelling the story.

“What is your problem with me?” I scoff, putting the dishes into the cupboard not really meeting his eyes.

He’d been offish all through dinner, the one chance we actually had to spend time with each other and of course he picks that moment to be mad.

“My problem?” he says, with a bitter laugh, “you want to know my problem?”

“That is what I just said isn’t it?” I quip back, a bit snarky.

“Where are you half the time?” he asks, a degree of hurt in his voice that makes my heart twist.

I stare at him, dumbfounded as my brain registers the question, “what?”

“I never see you anymore,” Jameson tells me, “I mean any longer without you and I feel like I’m going to forget your face.”

“You do see me,” I reply curtly.

“No I don’t and you know it,” he snaps, a wild looking shining through his emerald eyes.

“Jamie I can’t help my schedule,” I sigh, putting my hands on my hips, “I didn’t choose this.”

“Maybe you didn’t but you’re not trying to do anything about it,” he accuses me.

“I am!” I exclaim, throwing my hands up into the air.

“No you’re not,” he shakes his head, “you’re not doing anything and it’s not fair.”

“Give it a month and-“

“No! I’m tired of waiting,” he says, desperation bleeding into his voice, “it’s always next month this and next week that, I’m sick and tired of waiting for us.” he runs a hand through his unruly hair, “isn’t love meant to come first?”

“I need a job,” I say in a low voice, “I need money Jameson.”

“I’ll give you money,” he groans a pleading look in his features.

“You don’t understand,” I yell, “I need to make this for myself.”

“Why?” he shouts, “I could give you anything you ever wanted!”

“I wanted to earn something, not just be given it,” I try to explain.

“You’ve earned everything you need to,” he presses on.

“Acting is what I love to do Jamie,” I tell him, the passion seeping into my voice, “these auditions are what I love to do.”

“I thought you loved me,” he shoots back.

“I do,” I exhale, “you know I do.”

Jameson shakes his head with a bitter and slightly pained sort of smile, “it feels like all you care about is this stupid work of yours.”

My eyes are squinted shut. I’m trapped in a memory I hate, held captor in a prison of my mind’s own making.

“Talk to me,” Avery whispers, “I’m here.”

“Jamie hates me, I barely see you, I overwork, I can’t sleep, all my auditions are going horribly and I’m just messing everything up-“ I ramble, my voice becoming thicker and thicker with emotion with each word.

“Hey,” she says softly, “just breathe.”

“I can’t, it’s like everything is coming at me all at once and I can’t handle it,” I choke, “I feel like I’m drowning Avery and every time I kick up to the surface another wave takes me out again. It’s this cycle that I can’t make my way out of.”

“Oh sweetheart,” she soothes, “just try for me and ignore all of it for a second and just look into my eyes.”

I meet her gentle hazel eyes, but they blur as tears fill my vision.

“Think about us,” she says, “right now. Me and you together, talking to each other. Focus on the present, stop thinking about the future and the past.”

My mind quiets a little, the raging storm of black clouds and loud sounds begins to dim down into a low hum. It’s still there but less. It’s better. A feel a spark of hope pulsate through my veins, previously darkened by hopelessness.

“Feeling a little better?” she tilts her head to the side.

“A little,” I nod hesitantly. I don’t want to speak too soon, there is still time for things too get much much worse.

“That’s good,” she smiles, “that’s really good.”

I exhale slowly, a little shakily. I lean further into Avery and her arms naturally wrap around me. I’m in the safety and warmth of her arms, her soft touch.

“I’ve got you,” she reminds me, “and when you’re ready, just talk and I’ll listen.”

“I don’t know where to start,” I laugh, buts it’s a forced laugh that I soon regret as if makes my throat ache.

“Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Jameson?” she suggests.

“You’re being so pathetic,” I snap, rolling my eyes.

“And you’re being selfish,” he exclaims.

I stop in my tracks and spin to face him, “for wanting to make something of myself for my life? I’m not you, Jameson. I didn’t get everything handed to me on a golden platter.”

Hurt flashes across his face.

“You think I haven’t worked for what I am today?” he barks, “you think I was just given all of this?”

“I’m just saying it’s not as simple as you think it is,” I groan, trying to walk away.

He stands in front of me, looking deep into my eyes, his tone softens, “I would move the sun and the stars just to spend time with you,” anger clouds his features, sending an overcast of fury to his eyes, “but I don’t see you trying to change anything to see me.”

“I have tried,” I tell him, “but it’s really difficult Jameson and I’m exhausted,”

“Exhausted of what? Of this, of our relationship,” he snaps, quick to jump to some ridiculous conclusion.

“Are you drunk?” I laugh.

“Why do you always think I’m drunk?” he shoots back, venom on his tongue.

“Because you’re spouting nonsense,” I reply, raising my voice a little.

“Of course, of course,” he rolls his eyes in his bout of sarcasm, “I’m the one who’s spouting nonsense.”

“What do you want me to do Jameson?” I ask, a lump growing in my throat, “drop everything for you?”

“Love comes with sacrifices,” he shrugs in response.

“So what I’m meant to sacrifice my entire passion?” I scoff.

He couldn’t be serious.

“No I’m just asking you to at least attempt to make more time,” he says, “I mean don’t you miss me like I miss you?”

“Of course I miss you,” I sigh.

“Then why don’t you show it?” he asks and I can see how much it wounds him, “you’re a closed book around me now. I used to be able to read you so well but now it’s like a blank page.”

“How would you know, I thought you didn’t see me anymore?” I bite back.

“We got into a fight,” I whisper, memories flooding back.

“A bad one?” Avery says carefully, like she’s treading on eggshells.

“He left,” I shrug.

“Asshole,” she mutters in my defence.

“No,” I shake my head, sitting back up to face her, “I was horrible, I would’ve left me.”

Beat.

“But he was horrible too,” I sniff.

“People say things they don’t mean in fights,” Avery points out, reaching to touch my arm.

“Or they say what they’re really thinking,” I blurt out, my mind is too consumed by my own thoughts to filter what I’m saying.

“More often than not it’s things they don’t mean, trust me,” she says, a tenderness in her voice that makes my heart squeeze, “besides Jameson can be a real impulsive idiot sometimes.”

“I love that about him,” I chuckle snivelling slightly, “but… it’s just that lately things haven’t been the same between us.”

“How so?”

“I’m leaving,” Jameson snaps. He’s finally had enough, he’s finally walking out on me. Of course. How could I possibly think someone could really love me as much as he said he did.

“Where are you going?” I ask, a sudden panic clawing at my chest overriding all of the built up anger and resentment.

“Why do you care?” he shrugs, grabbing his keys swiftly.

“Because I love you, you idiot!” I yell.

He stops and slowly turns around. Our eyes connect and for a split second deja vu washes over me and we’re meeting for the first time. I’m falling in love with his enchanting green eyes.

“Do you?” he asks, “really?”

“You’re being such an idiot right now,” I scrunch up my face as I shout, “I hope you know that.”

“If you’ll excuse me I’m going to go and get drunk and spout nonsense like I usually do,” he says, “according to you.”

“Oh come off of it,” I scream, a sudden surge of pure rage appearing.

“What?”

“Stop acting like mr high and mighty on your high horse,” I snarl, “it’s not fair.”

“You know what’s not fair, what you’re doing to me,” he barks, “I’m in limbo here, I don’t know whether you’re coming or going, the only time I see you is when I leave this house and you’re asleep.”

“Then wake me up,” I deadpan, arms folded.

“And make you even more exhausted?” he scoffs, “fat chance!”

“I’m giving you solutions and you’re just deterring them,” I exclaim.

“Because you know they’re stupid solutions,” he explodes.

“Well life is just keeping us apart. I’m always at auditions, he’s off with his brothers, then when I come home he’s asleep and I can’t sleep and then when I finally sleep, he wakes up,” I blubber, “we’re not getting enough time to be with each other and I’m trying so hard to make time, but I don’t have the energy because I’m so exhausted from everything else.”

“And that’s okay, that’s understandable,” she reassures me, “he’s probably just frustrated because he doesn’t get to spend time with you, that shows he loves you, right? Someone who didn’t wouldn’t experience these feelings.”

“I suppose,” I shrug, “but Avery you should have seen him. He was so mad when he walked out. It’s the biggest fight we’ve ever been in.”

“I’m sure things will get better, they always do,” she soothes, “I mean think about to your last fight, how long did that last?”

Barely a few hours, I recall. Jameson and I had never fought for long in our relationship. It was so hard to stay so mad at someone I loved so much.

“What if it’s different this time?” I murmur, imagining the worst.

“It’s not,” Avery says, “trust me.”

“He was just so mad,” I say, biting my lip, “I’ve never seen him look at me like that.”

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Avery tells me gently, “whatever the outcome is, I’ve got you the whole way.”

“Thanks Ave,” I try to smile but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes, “he doesn’t get it, he thinks he does, but he doesn’t.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s getting so angry,” she suggests.

“I wish he would just let me explain,” I groan, putting my head in my hands.

“Why don’t you just communicate that to him?” she says.

“Because I have no time to!” I exclaim, not meaning to sound so defensive and snappy, “I just need to get through this month and then everything will be back to normal.”

“Sweetheart, I think you need to make some time to talk to him,” Avery says earnestly, “in this month. Explain this all to him, otherwise he’s going to keep building up all this anger for no reason and things are going to get worse.”

“Why is he so angry?” I ask in frustration, meaning for the question to be rhetorical.

“Because he doesn’t like not seeing you,” she replies, “he loves you.”

He love me. He loves me. He loves me. The words echo around my head relentlessly.

“I’m stupid,” I say, letting my head hit Avery’s shoulder.

“You’re not stupid,” she replies, putting her arm around me and rubbing small circles on my shoulder with her thumb.

“He hates me,” I mumble into her.

She shakes her head, “he doesn’t hate you.”

“It’s always the same with you, you always want more-“

“I want to see you,” Jameson yells, “is that so much to ask?”

“I will never be enough, you can’t just take me for who I am, what I am, what I need,” I shout back.

“What about what I need?” he questions, “I need to see you and it’s driving me crazy when we’re apart.”

“You need to find a coping mechanism then,” I reply, snarky and spiteful.

He looks at me with a look I’ve never seen in his eyes before. Pure unadulterated hatred. Like he wants me to burn on a thousand spikes after a session of torture.

“Fuck you,” he spits at me, his face so close to mine I can feel his anger.

“Piss off,” I hiss back.

“I will thank you very much,” he replies, swinging the door open.

“And don’t come home,” I snap, “I don’t want to see your face.”

“It’s not like you’ll notice, you don’t see my face anyway,” he calls, slamming the door shut behind him.

“What if this time he doesn’t come back,” I murmur, frightening myself more and more it’s each drastic thought that pops into my head.

“He will come back,” she soothes, continuing to rubbing small circles on my arm, “he always comes back to you.”

She has a point. Jameson always came back, he just needs time to cool off. I hope…

“You’re stronger than you think,” she whispers in my ear, like she can hear the doubts screaming in my brain.

“I don’t feel it,” I grumble.

“That’s what makes you even stronger,” Avery says.

“I’m crying over a boy,” I deadpan.

“Who hasn’t been there?” she smiles, wiping my tears away, “now come on, I’ll get the ice cream tubs, you grab the endless flow of blankets and pillows and we’ll have a movie night.”

I crack a small smile and nod as we stand up. She begins to walk while my legs struggle to follow.

“Avery,” I say, taking a small step forwards.

She spins around with a bright smile, “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I exhale, “so much.”

sorry there haven’t been a lot updates lately I’ve been super busy 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[darknessisafriend]

Arthur who?

Finally posting this short comforting piece about our Artie! enjoy everyone :)

Arthur comes back home, and he doesn’t feel good.

You were reading a book on the sofa, curled up under a blanket to warm you until Arthur would come back and let you snuggle against him, playing with your hair as he listened to your reading. Your attention was soon pulled away from your book as you recognized the familiar footsteps of Arthur on the wooden stairs. Although they sounded heavier, more tired than usual.

Your suspicions were revealed to be true when his steps stopped at the door, a silent pause which made you put your book aside and stand up, almost rushing to the door, had he forgotten his keys? Did something worse happen? You put your hand on the door handle, about to open when his voice stopped you in your movement.

“Knock, knock…” he said, his voice barely hearable from the other side.

“Who’s there?” you replied, ready to listen, feeling his upset, his sadness. Whatever happened outside, it seemed to have deeply affected him.

“Arthur Fleck...”

“Arthur Fleck who…?” you asked, the frown deepening on your face until realization hit you, Arthur had gone silent, not replying, this was his joke…he was the joke. Your eyes filled with tears, and you instantly opened the door, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His arms remained limp on his sides, he swallowed down, his whole-body trembling in pain, distress, exhaustion. He let his head fall on your shoulder, burying it in the crook of your neck as you pulled him inside, closing the door to shelter him from the world.

You made him sit on the sofa while keeping your arms around him, you didn’t speak at first. Your left hand rubbing his back while the other caressed the back of his head soothingly.

“Why are you here? What makes you stay with a loser like me…” he muttered against your shoulder, his voice shaking as if his words could make you leave him.

“Arthur…what happened? You know you can talk to me.” You reassured him, kissing his temple tenderly, hating to hear he thought so low of himself. You felt a tear of his fall on your collarbone, he sniffled and chuckled at the same time.

“Someone recognized me on the streets today…they said…Hey Joker…when are you going to blow up the mayor? I said I don’t want to do that…they replied ‘you’re such a disappointment... go fuck yourself’…” he explained, each word was painful, he was struggling against his disability, struggling to breathe between giggles. And Arthur had believed that person. Arthur thought himself nothing, a fleck of dust bothering the world.

You pinched your lips together; you knew how much it weighed on him since he had managed to get out of Arkham. “You are Arthur Fleck. And you have no idea how much those two words mean to me.” You spoke, gently cupping his face to try to make him look at you in the eyes. “Arthur I won’t have the pretention of telling you who you are or who you should be. But what I am certain about is: how important you are to my eyes.” You smiled, a tear rolling down your cheek. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth, starting to sing, quietly, a song that reminded you of Arthur, when you met him the first time, how your world collapsed to create a new one, one with Artie.

“There was a boy…A very strange, enchanted boy…They say he wandered very far…Very far, Over land and sea…” you had always found Arthur strange, but as you liked to say, most interesting people are. He was even magical to your eyes, that boy who lived in his fantasies, strong imagination, passionate by music and dance, loving to make children smile, a romantic man gifting flower.

“A little shy…And sad of eye…But very wise was he...” people said he was in his world, a child man with a low IQ, those people obviously didn’t know him. He was an adult man, not afraid to regress to relax, to cry in front of a movie, to be vulnerable in front of others. He didn’t need anyone to infantilize him, he was more than aware of his situation, the problems he had, and all he had ever wanted was help to get through them.              

“And then one day…One magic day he passed my way…And while we spoke of many things…Fools and kings…This he said to me…The greatest thing...You'll ever learn…Is just to love…And be loved in return…” you sang a last time; this time he lifted his eyes to meet yours, his brows furrowing into a feeling of fondness, he loved when you sang, and that song from one of his favorite singers took a meaning it never had before. He let out a soft natural laugh.

“Am I that boy? Really?” he asked shyly, flattered, his hands finding yours, entwinning your fingers with his.

“To me you are Arthur. You are not a symbol, or a myth. You are my lover, and with that chance of being so close to you, I got to know you, I love who you are. No need to define it further than that.” You smiled, bringing your entwinned fingers to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Right…I am who I am, I know who I am, you see who I am…and that’s enough.” He replied softly, a smile settling on his lips, his eyes shining as he looked at you devotedly. He didn’t have to care about what others said he was, nor did they have the right to judge him because he wasn’t what they wanted him to be.

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @thatdummy-girl​r @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @call-me-harley-quinn @cigznvalentines @help-i-am-obssessed @arthurfleckjoker2019 @theartistdetective @jaylovesbats @niniitah-ah @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend @fleckcmscott @obssessedandthirsty @weirdflecksbutok @ajokeformurray

[mistymidnightmoon]

Soft kisses, Safe arms

･ jude bellingham x reader ･

prompt: (fluff/a bit suggestive) after a fun night out with friends, you head home to your boyfriend Jude, whose caring, gentle presence is the perfect contrast to the lively nightclub.

warnings: drinking

wc: 1.5k

a/n: leave me requests!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sounds of the nightclub were all-consuming.

Music, laughter, and singing overwhelmed your senses, and the alcohol coursing through your body was no help. You’d gone out for a night of fun with your girls and it was now almost 2 in the morning. 

A familiar pounding surfaced as you started to feel a headache coming on, but as you glanced over to the dance floor, you saw your friends awake as ever dancing with each other and random men they must have picked up at the bar. 

You giggle, shaking your head at their antics.

As you take another sip of your drink you feel a buzz in your purse. You pull it out and open your messages to see your favorite contact flash on your screen, as he had been periodically checking up on you throughout the night. 

Jude🤍: Hey baby, having fun?

You twirl a strand of your hair giggling like a schoolgirl at such a basic question, the alcohol making you giddier than usual. 

You: Hiiiiii babyy!!!

I misss yoiuuuu

Jude🤍: Missing you too love ❤️

You: I’m comimg hime soon I camt  wait to kiss yiu xx

Jude🤍: I can’t wait either baby, be safe. 

You smile excitedly, hearting the message, and place your phone back in your purse. Jude was never bothersome or controlling when it came to you hanging out with your girls, something you weren’t used to due to some unhealthy relationships of the past. 

He was very secure in himself and your relationship seeing as neither of you had given each other any reason not to trust one another. 

That and the fact that you were both embarrassingly head over heels in love. 

“Oh my goddd he totally wanted to hook up with you” you hear behind you whipping your head to see your girlfriends laughing and stumbling back to the table you had been standing by. 

“Well I hate to burst his bubble but there’s no way in hell” You giggle along not even fully understanding the story but enjoying the moment nonetheless. 

 “I love you guysss” one of your friends exclaims lovingly causing all of you to burst out into laughter but still returning the sentiment. 

“Okay, I’m already feeling the beginning of my hangover. I think I'm calling it a night guys” you express getting a groan from your friends.

“What you reallyy mean is you’re starting to miss your boyfriend and want to fu-” “Oh my god shut up” you cut off laughing awkwardly causing everyone else to join in on the teasing and banter. 

“We're just teasing babes I think we all need to call it a night.” one of your friends assures checking the time to see that it is well past safe hours for a group of girls at night. 

You all decide to get two taxis, splitting up based on where you live, saying your goodbyes, and heading home. The whole ride back to Jude’s apartment your thoughts are consumed by his everything. You imagine his hands on your body, his lips leaving marks on your skin. You feel slightly embarrassed that he can have such an effect on you while not being anywhere in your vicinity. 

You: Hii Judeee Im comibg home niww

You bite your lip thinking about all you want to do to him once you get inside his apartment, clenching your thighs at the mere thought.

A couple of minutes later you feel a buzz in your lap

Jude🤍: Okay baby, I’ll be waiting. xo

You:❤️❤️

As you sent your last message you feel the taxi coming to a stop. You thank the driver and bid your friends goodbye stumbling out of the car and towards the lobby of the apartment. As you push through the revolving doors you look up to see the very face you were just fantasizing about. 

“Judee” you exclaim rushing up and embracing him. “Hii baby” he chuckles pulling you into a tighter embrace. You look up at him lovingly and pull him in for a quick kiss. 

“Come on, let's get you upstairs,” he gently suggests. You quietly nod allowing him to lead you over to the elevator and up to his floor.

The whole way there your hand stays in his , holding your body as close to his as you possible . He hadn't yet caught on to your intentions, attributing your cuddliness to the multiple drinks flowing through your system. 

As you made it through the door he closed it shut behind him letting go of your hand to ensure it was locked properly. As he did, you slipped off your coat tossing it on a chair across the room. 

Once he turned around you stalked up to him, softly pressing your lips against his in a seemingly innocent kiss.

 “Mmm,” he moaned into your mouth, “Missed you baby” His hands found their place on your waist softly caressing your body. 

You kissed him deeper, hoping he would get what you wanted without you having to explicitly ask for it. “Baby” he groaned, slowly pulling away from you.

“Judee” you whined, desperation and need overwhelming you. 

“Baby.. we can’t,” he says resting his forehead against yours. 

“Why not” you pout, looking up at him with a look you know he can't resist. “Fuck, baby you're killing me” he murmurs shaking his head.

“Please, Jude, please I want you,” you whined running your hands along his chest. You reach up and kiss his neck, one of his weaknesses. He groaned at this but restrained himself from giving in. 

“I’m sorry baby, but tomorrow we can do it all. You’re drunk and you need to rest, okay?” he reasons holding your face softly in his calussed palms. You let out a soft groan hanging your head low accepting that your boyfriend was just too caring and loving to take advantage of your drunken state. 

“Okay..” you surrender, feeling a bit embarrassed of how needy you were being. 

Jude lifts your face to look you in the eyes, smiling lovingly at you and leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on, let's get ready for bed and you can tell me all about tonight.” You nod in acceptance letting him lead you to the bedroom, your hand in his. 

He sits you down at the edge of the bed as he helps you get changed. He starts with your shoes and then moves on to your clothes removing your skirt and softly pulling your shirt over your head leaving you in just your undergarments. 

You felt a shy heat rush to your cheeks, feeling his eyes on your half-naked form, blushing even though he’s seen you in much less. 

He sends you a cheeky grin before walking over to the dresser, pulling out one of his old jerseys that you loved to sleep in whenever you were over his apartment. He carefully pulls it over your head successfully getting you changed. He then leads you to the bathroom to help you brush your teeth and remove your makeup. 

As he props you up on the counter you watch his careful and attentive movements. So sure in himself as he had seen you do this routine hundreds of times. 

“Okay baby, stay still for me” he instructs, wetting a cloth with warm water and makeup remover. 

“Mmm,” you hum in response. 

You close your eyes and he begins to softly drag the warm cloth along your face removing the makeup as best he can, knowing you're too tired to properly wash your face. You open your eyes to see his brows furrowed in concentration, smiling at how attentive and cute he’s being. 

“You're so pretty” you blurt out. He looks at you with a bit of surprise but laughs nonetheless. 

“You’re so pretty, baby” he retorts. “You're prettier” you argue teasingly. 

“You're prettiest” he finishes off with a chaste kiss. You scrunch your nose at his playfulness as you watch him put the cloth in the wash bin and pull your moisturizer from the cabinet. He gently applies it to your face finishing up your skincare. 

Once finished, Jude took you down from the counter and led you back to the bedroom. You get comfortable under the comforter as he turns the lights out joining you once he's finished. 

“C’mere baby” he whispers. You snuggle up closer to him, his natural musk and aftershave invading your senses. You nuzzle your head impossibly close to his chest just wanting to feel his body close.

“Jude..” you whisper gazing up at him “Yes, baby” he replies. “I love you, so much. Thank you for taking care of me” you murmur, feeling a wave of emotions and gratitude for your boyfriend. 

“Aww baby, I love you.” he coos, leaving a lingering kiss you on the forehead. “I'll always take care of my baby, you never have to thank me,” he assures, gently stroking your head.

 You smile up at him seeing the pure love and adoration in his eyes, feeling so grateful that you have such a loving, beautiful, doting boyfriend.

You reach up to leave a kiss goodnight against his soft lips smiling into it. “Goodnight, my love.” he breathes against your lips. “Night, baby” you reply resting your head against his chest, letting your body relax under his caring and protective presence. 

[vanha-paholainen]

Viktor NSFW hc's.

Tw: mentions of sickness, mentions of throwing up, mentions of famished body.

Soon I will see my dear Viktor again.

I made some headcanons about him. Hope someone will like it. English isn't my first language, so please, don't beat me up, I'm just some ukrainian guy.

— The older Viktor gets, the worse his legs get. Problems with joints are added to the congenital curvature. If at the age of twenty-two he was able to cover three or four kilometers in a day, and with proper stops and motivation — all eight, now, at thirty-two, it is sometimes difficult for him even to get himself out of bed.

— Viktor, in addition to the corset and leg correction shown in the series, wears compression stockings when he feels particularly lousy.

— Actually, all his meals are scheduled and strictly regulated in accordance with his medication, but this stubborn workaholic often neglects his needs, which then makes him vomit bile, faints and experiences other troubles.

— Speaking of stomach problems. Let's omit the fact that all the characters that I like, they somehow magically appear — Viktor really has a reason for problems with the gastrointestinal tract. Previously, everything was tolerable, but now, due to the side effects of phlegm-thinning lung drugs and heavy painkillers on which he sits, Viktor vomits with enviable regularity at least once every two weeks. This usually happens either in the middle of the working day or after. Sometimes he jumps up to get a basin early in the morning, because he can also be sick from pills. Because of this, his teeth are slowly deteriorating. In addition, it is in the episodes of vomiting that he feels particularly weak and pathetic.

— It is in case of an unforeseen outpouring of vomit that there is a basin under Viktor's desk.

— He often faints too. This is mainly due to overwork and lack of sleep. Over the years, Victor has learned to anticipate this phenomenon and therefore usually manages to sit down.

— Viktor washes exclusively while sitting on a special shower chair for people with disabilities. You can't sit in the bathroom in his position, and if you do, you'll get out, and standing in the shower without support is painful and tiring for him.

— If Viktor takes days off, it's just to get enough sleep. He doesn't like social events and noisy streets. It seems to him that the Piltoverians look at him with contempt, he does not like small talk, because he is used to putting meaning and sincerity into every word he says, and, besides, the noise of the crowd tires him very quickly. Even when Jayce invites him, filled with a strange sense of extrovert duty to an introverted work partner, Viktor politely refuses. He does not want to once again experience the views of the local nobility and feel like a stranger. He has enough problems without that.

— The feeling of loneliness and misunderstanding is his only faithful companion. Since childhood, Viktor has watched the fun of other children as if through bulletproof glass, and over the years this feeling of alienation from the world of people has only worsened. He had never experienced true friendship, had never loved anyone—and sometimes this realization made him hate himself so much that it was time to climb into a noose. In despair, he thought that maybe if he had been born like everyone else, it would have been easier for him. No, he never tried to be like the crowd, but loneliness often made him regret his genius. Over time, Viktor resigned himself. After all, his mechanisms will always be with him. There is no human impermanence in them. The breakdown of a certain gear is easier to predict than the cooling of a relationship.

— By the age of thirty-two, Viktor is a virgin. As mentioned earlier, he has never loved anyone, and therefore this fact is not shameful for him. He just thinks it's out of his area of interest and has no regrets about it.

— Viktor has a very significant «manhood»: 18.4 cm in length. However, he does not use it.

— Despite the extremely lousy position of his lungs, he smokes, and smokes a lot. He prefers unfiltered cigarettes, smokes about a dozen a day.

— Surprisingly, Viktor is not circumcised and is not even infertile. He is quite capable of becoming a father - but I think anyone understands that this will be the worst version of a dad that can only be imagined.

— Viktor never attached much importance to the partner's gender. He believes that there is no need to limit yourself to such extensive issues. He is bisexual (and possibly a mechanophile).

— If Viktor hypothetically has sex, he will do it with all his usual thoroughness. He will buy a pack of the best thin condoms (japanese ones can serve as an analogue from our world), purchase hypoallergenic lubricant and be very careful with his partner. In addition, before sexual intercourse, he will wash himself and immediately before the process, he will discuss everything with his partner again. It may seem superfluous, but he does not know how to do otherwise. He feels safer when he knows for sure that he is doing everything right: after all, it is not in his plans to damage someone's intestines or cervix.

— What Viktor will definitely not try in bed is the missionary position, where the heavier partner will be on top, and sitting on his face. This point hardly needs explanation.

— If Viktor finds himself in a receiving position in bed (that is, under a man), he will expect from his partner the same tenderness and attentiveness that he shows himself. Viktor does not welcome rudeness and savagery. He is thirty-two years old and terminally ill. With him, either gently and carefully, or in no way.

— Viktor prefers large partners with a good combination of fat percentage and muscle mass. No, appearance does not come first for him, the contact of mind and soul is more important to him — but opposites attract, and he will be especially pleased if his partner, regardless of gender, is an athletic endomorph with dark skin and large breasts. Sky and Jayce are perfect for his type.

— By the way, the subject of Viktor's stingy erotic fantasies are... Anatomical sketches with a female body. Yes, he prefers realism and precision even in such matters.

— Viktor treats himself differently. As mentioned earlier, he differentiates himself from society, and therefore his own nakedness seems disgusting and unnatural to him. He considers himself unattractive due to exhaustion and pelvic problems, and therefore does not like to relate himself to the general mass. Deep down, he wants to become a machine: then there will be no problems with a sick body and an imperfect mind. «Naturalness is for everyone, but not for me.»

[catgrandpa]

Batman Forever (1995)

(Finally got to the one with my incredibly distant cousin several times removed, Val buddy, why weren’t you at the last Kilmer family reunion, what the heck?)

So I don’t think I’m cut out for actually reviewing/rating movies. I just really like watching movies and if I had a good time, then I consider it a great movie! This movie probably wasn’t as good as the other two, but I had a better time watching it, it was an absolute gas!

Yall may not understand me but I must live my truth.

Once again, thoughts while watching below:

“I’ll get drive through.” Hands down best opening scene so far.

No complaints for Eddie oh dear I love him. What a little freak 🥰 Harvey is fine, I could take him or leave him, but also? He and Eddie are definitely holding hands, right??

Okay changing the way the Grayson’s died is fine I understand you have a story to tell and introducing a whole new bad guy would be rough BUT WHO IS THIS FOURTH GRAYSON????? Does Dick just have a random brother?? Who is this ?????

Alfie and Bruce with the tag team manipulation, we love to see it. ‘Oh, if only we had someone who could stay here and help us eat all this food and enjoy this great life of luxury and be so hot and rich and awesome all the time:(‘

I’m sorry y’all I love this Dick Grayson😭 I’ve heard people hate Chris O’Donnell as Dick but I think he’s fun:) He’s not as Little Guy as I usually like Dick, but he does bring a certain ‘I’ll kill a guy and I won’t regret it’ energy that I feel like is missing from a lot of representations.

Good god, bestie does not like keeping secrets!! B, you don’t have to tell everyone you meet that you’re Batman, some things we keep to ourselves!

Overall, so much fun. These movies are so camp, the MCU could never. I could honestly see this becoming a comfort movie it’s so silly. Genuinely almost peed my pants when Batman said “Huh?” to holy rusted metal, Batman. 8/10.

I do not want talk about Dr. Chase Meridian.

So, I’ve never actually watched a Batman movie outside of the single greatest film ever made, The Lego Batman Movie.

I’ve decided I’m going to watch all of the live action (barring 1966 because I cant find it streaming) in order from time of release, and I’m going to compare them directly to The Lego Batman Movie.

I have no rubric, it’s all vibes based but the movies will land somewhere on this chart: