#cheryl HATES them both

[liamgallaghermpreg]

nobody cares about my supernatural/riverdale crossover au. but listen to me LISTEN TO MEEEE

[lara635kookie]

[dashiellqvverty]

to be honest i think there is a very clear pathway to cheronica happening this season (cheryl’s “get out of my school” vibes, veronica introducing the concept of bisexuality to the group, hermione telling veronica “no boys” which EYE think would be very fun if veronica was like “okay fine then girls”) but i KNOW they’re not gonna take it

[debtsunpaid]

somehow this blog has become populated with a dozen characters whose relationships to their siblings roughly boils down to "that's not just my family, that is my limb, and to remove them from me would be unthinkable."

and then there's manny and the demon constantine, with a hacksaw and a dream.

[sam24]

String Beans and Goldfish

Summary: Defending someone who everyone hates is hard. Especially when you're standing in front of a bunch of gang members and Mr. Serpent Hottie won't stop staring at you.

Pairing: Sweet Pea x fem!reader

*****

As soon as you walked through the door, you felt the piercing gaze of 20 something pairs of eyes on you. There was only one that truly mattered, but you pushed down your weird volatile feelings and cleared your throat, stepping up to Jughead.

“What are you doing here?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were into gaming.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Sorry Jughead, I’m not here to join this fun little club you’ve got going on here. I’m here to talk to you guys.”

“See Jughead, she’s probably here to tell us how stupid our club sounds. Literally who’s going to believe this.” Fangs whined.

You avoided looking at Fangs, because you knew exactly who would be standing right next to him.

“Honestly, I don’t give a shit about your club. I just need to talk to you guys about Reggie.”

You heard a collective groan among them at the name of Riverdale High’s star athlete, infamous among the Serpents for being a complete asshole.

“Why? You here to defend that dick? You his girlfriend or something?”

Shit.

You looked to where the voice came from, although you knew exactly who it was. You made eye contact with him, his eyes, cold and proud, staring into you intently, waiting for an answer. There was an emotion rippling through his body that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Anger? Jealousy? Both?

Sweet Pea remembered the first time he saw you- the drag race. You were leaning against the truck Reggie was sitting on, your elbow resting on Kevin’s shoulder, looking annoyed as you squinted in the sun.

You had taken a sip out of Reggie’s red solo cup, making a disgusted scrunched up face before shoving the drink back into his hands.

Sweet Pea almost smirked from his place on his motorcycle next to Toni, but remembered he wouldn’t be caught dead smiling at a Northsider.

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you the whole time, and he for sure as hell could see you looking back at him.

The second time he saw you was on the Serpents’ disastrous first day at Riverdale High.

You were standing off to the side behind Kevin, trying your best not to cringe at Veronica’s enthusiasm and Archie’s uncomfiness. Sweet Pea wasn’t even listening to whatever Veronica was saying, instead eye-flirting with you the whole time.

You didn’t say anything when Cheryl and Reggie made their dramatic entrance down the stairs, apart from an audible groan and an eye roll. But, he did see you pull the sleeve of Reggie’s jacket back when he tried to storm up to Sweet Pea, a glint of warning in your eyes. Reggie immediately backed down, and Sweet Pea scowled at the sight, a string of jealousy pulling in his stomach.

He later learned you were in his World History fifth hour class. You and Cheryl walked in late, accompanied by Principal Weatherbee. Cheryl holding a rag to her bleeding nose, and a bruise forming on your knuckles, and your seat was coincidentally the one right next to the one he sat in.

”Damn you must be one hungry chick.” Sweet Pea watched as you pulled out yet another pack of goldfish.

“Thanks, string bean.” You smiled, trying your best to cover up the rapid beating of your heart. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “It’s actually Sweet Pea.”

“Well, Sweet Pea, maybe you should take me to Pop’s one time and I can show you much I can eat in one sitting.” You said with a wink, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

And before Sweet Pea could flirt back, Reggie stormed over, narrowing his eyes at Sweet Pea, threat clear in his eyes. Before he could throw out an insult, the teacher interrupted, loudly telling Reggie to sit down.

He grudgingly did, but he spent the rest of class glaring murderously at Sweet Pea. And of course, Sweet Pea flirted with you even more because of that.

And now you were here, at an undercover Serpent meeting trying to defend him.

That filled Sweet Pea with rage.

“Look, string- Sweet Pea. I’m not trying to make up excuses for him. I’m just trying to show you his side.”

“Those sound an awful lot like excuses, sweetheart.” Sweet Pea sneered.

You tried not to choke at the nickname.

“Look, Pea, I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever sexual tension is going on between you two, but how about we hear what she’s gotta say.” Toni tried to reason.

“Thank you.” You sent Toni a warm smile, ignoring the first part of her sentence, before facing the rest of them.

“Okay look. I know, Reggie is an asshole. But deep down . . . he’s actually still kind of an asshole- you know what, I have no clue where I’m going with this, lemme start over.” You said with the wave of your hand. “Reggie’s going through a lot right now. His dad- let’s just say he isn’t the best father.”

You paused, thinking how to phrase your thoughts. “He’s going through a lot of shit at home, and-”

“So? That gives him a right to treat us like shit? Tell Reggie to get over himself. Other kids get abused, doesn’t mean they go around acting like dickbags.” Sweet Pea snarled, venom dripping from his voice.

You narrowed your eyes at him, getting defensive. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying- honestly I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

You looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling stupid. You kicked at the tile, your converse skidding on the floor.

“I’ve known Reggie for a long time, and what I’ve accumulated over all this time is that Reggie is terrible with feelings. When he’s mad, he’s angry. When he’s sad, he’s angry. When he feels like shit, he’s angry. It may not seem like it, but he’s really hurting inside. So he thinks the solution is to take it out on other people. And you guys are the perfect target.” You got quieter, the previous anger in your voice turning into sadness.

Sweet Pea suddenly felt guilty for yelling, which was a feeling he rarely ever felt.

“Look, guys. If you want to beat him up, go for it, he honestly deserves it for being so terrible.” You took in a breath. “But try not to kill him, please. He’s my best friend.” Your voice went down to a whisper at the end.

The kid next to Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. “Please. Save the acting, bitc-”

He was quickly silenced by the thunderous slam of Sweet Pea’s palm onto the desk.

“Nevermind.” His jaw clenched.

Sweet Pea’s eyes stayed on the desk, but he caught the slight smile on your face. He was too proud to tell you that he’ll try to go easy on Reggie, just for you, but you understood.

And that was what made you special.

Before anyone could say anything, Reggie’s voice echoed in the hallway, calling your name.

“You should probably go before your boyfriend gets mad.” Sweet Pea muttered angrily, falling even deeper into the dark pit called jealousy.

You turned to walk out the door, but not before looking Sweet Pea dead in the eye.

”He’s not my boyfriend, string bean.”

[hugsandharrystyles]

Are you wet right now?

Summary: You go on a vacation with your parents and their best friend's family. The only problem is their ridiculously hot son, Harry.

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: so much tension, teens being dumb, angst of course

Let me know if you want a part 2 with actual smut :))

You officially hate Harry Styles.

You hate his stupid hair, his stupid green eyes, his stupid hair, and especially his stupid abs.

You don't think from the minute your and his family stepped into the private resort you've seen him with a shirt on. And you get it, it's hot outside, and you're on vacation, but he doesn't even have the decency to put one on at dinner.

Honestly, the whole naked chest thing wouldn't bother you so much if he didn't get so much attention for it. The resort your and his family picked was private, but being a young, hot superstar makes you an easy target. It's almost as if this is the week all families with teenage girls decided to go on vacation.

It's the worst when you'll be goofing around with him like normal, and a group of girls in their bikinis crowd over him, not even sparing you a glance as they shove you out of the way. It's even worse that Harry does nothing about it.

You've known Harry since you were little. Your parents have always been friends, so it was kind of inevitable. You knew from a young age he was going to be something big- with his talent and charisma. You've watched from the sidelines how he's grown and came to stardom.

Though, you and Harry hadn't always been friends. When you were both thirteen, Harry had asked you to be his girlfriend. It was young and childish love, but it was sweet. You were his first girlfriend, and he was your first boyfriend. You even shared your first kisses together. You could never forget it. He was so nervous and shaky, and the kiss was inexperienced, but it was probably the best kiss of your life.

Until you were with Harry at a birthday party where everyone was playing spin the bottle, and Harry landed on Cheryl Taylor. He barely spared you a glance before leaning over and planting your his lips on her bubblegum-pink ones.

You ran out of the house and called your mom to come pick you up. Harry had tried to talk to you for a week, and you avoided him like the plague, which was hard since he was your neighbor. He ended up cornering you at school and apologizing profusely. He explained how he likes Cheryl now and that you were just his best friend. He was so young and so doe-eyed that you had no other option than to forgive him and go back to best friends. That was the start of Harry's everlasting feud with women. In no way was he a womanizer, but he loved sex and didn't have any want for a relationship.

"Y/N, sweetie, did you hear me?" Your mom snaps you out of your moment with her question. You're currently all (besides Harry, God knows where he is and who he's with) lounging at the pool, enjoying the summer breeze and warm sun.

"No, sorry," You answer and turn your head towards her.

"It's okay- said we'll need to head up to our rooms in about an hour to clean up and get ready for dinner. We have reservations at that fancy restaurant we saw when we were driving into town!" Your mom says excitedly, and you smile with her.

"Sounds good," You answer and turn your attention to the romance book in your hands, but before you could get very far, you hear your name being called.

"Y/N! Come in the water with me," You hear Harry's whiny voice call.

"'M good," You answer back, very obviously annoyed. You're still upset about the mob of girls who had literally pushed you to the ground earlier while trying to get closer to Harry. He hadn't even noticed.

"Oh, c'mon, babycakes. You still mad at me?" Harry asks, and you hear him splashing out of the pool. The sound of falling water droplets gets closer until you feel them start to drip onto your bare stomach.

"First, don't ever call me that again. Second, obviously I'm still upset you jerk," You scowl and almost punch him when he takes your book out of your hands, placing it on the table next to you.

"I said I was sorry!" He whines. You hear your mom and Anne laugh beside you.

"I got a bruise, Harry!" You whine back and pout at your forearm, showing him the bruise.

"Oh, shit, I didn't know it was that bad," Harry whispers, so your parents don't hear him curse.

"Yeah," You sigh. "Had to crawl my way out, and you didn't even care," You say dramatically.

"Stop it with that. You know I care about you the most," He assures, and before you can resist, he slots his wet body over yours, making you squeal.

"Ew! Get off me!" You scream, and hear your and his families' laughter.

"No," He whines and shakes his wet hair out. He lays his face in your neck. "I'm sorry, moppet. I wasn't thinking. Never would want you to get hurt."

"It's fine. I don't care. I was just messing with you."

"No, you weren't. Could tell you were upset, and I'm sorry I'm a dick," He says quietly and presses a soft kiss to your neck.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

"It's okay, seriously. Just- I don't know. It's fine, you goof." You wish to tell him how you really feel. How much you miss him when he's gone when you probably never cross his mind- the lack of texts proving to be true.

"Know I love you, right?" He asks as he perks his head up and grips your cheeks in his hands, smushing them together. You notice his eyes flicker to your lips but don't think too much about it.

"Yeah," You laugh nervously.

"What's with the hesitation?" He asks and releases his hold on your cheeks, instead cupping your neck, thumbs on your jaw, so he still has a bit of control over your face.

"Nothing- we just don't talk that much anymore. Haven't really since-"

"Harry, would you get off my daughter!" Your dad yells over, semi-joking. You laugh and push at Harry's shoulder. He gets up, but you can tell by his sorrowful facial expression that he's upset about something.

"Hey, what's-" Your cut off by a high pitched voice coming from the side of you.

"Oh my gosh. Are you Harry Styles?" The girl is probably about your age and very pretty. You can't help but sigh in defeat.

"That would be me. What's your name, pretty?" Harry's response feels like a knife to your heart, and you don't think twice before picking your book back up and tuning the conversation out. You do, however, peek your eyes over your book to see Harry walking away with the girl, arm around her shoulder- not even a glance back at you.

It's an hour later when you return to you and Harry's room. You hadn't seen Harry since he walked off with that girl, and you kind of hoped he wouldn't be back for dinner because you just didn't want to see him. Even after all this time, it's as if you can't completely squash your stupid crush on him.

You slide your keycard through the door and walk in, though, nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you.

Harry and the stranger-blonde are laying on his bed, practically grinding against each other in a heavy make out session. Your gasp is loud enough to break them out of their attraction, and you immediately hear them both curse.

"Shit!" Harry yells and pushes the girl off of him. She glares at the side of his face.

"You have a girlfriend?" She asks.

"No, no, she's just a friend."

Ouch.

"Um, I can just grab my things and go," You offer and make your way towards the bathroom to grab your makeup.

"No, Y/N-" Harry starts, but you cut him off.

"Seriously, it's fine. Um- I'll just find somewhere to get ready. You- uh- are obviously busy," You laugh embarrassingly. You quickly grab your things and your clothes and dart towards the door. You feel Harry grab your free wrist before you could make your great escape.

"Y/N, wait." His voice lowers so his guest couldn't hear. She was already mindlessly scrolling on her phone anyway, so it didn't even matter.

"What?" You ask.

"What's- why does this feel so... off?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Obviously it's going to be a little awkward because-"

"No, I mean like- I feel guilty? Like I've just messed everything up," He whispers, defeated.

"I don't know what you mean. I mean it's not like we're... together or anything." The words hurt as they come out of your mouth. "We're- um- we're cool." You put the fakest smile you could muster before walking out of the room. You hear him call your name as you speed-walk down the hallway to your parents' room.

Once you're ready, you and your parents trail downstairs to the resort's foyer where you all patiently wait for Anne and her husband. You're shocked that after waiting for five minutes, you see Harry's parents and Harry stepping out of the elevator and walking towards you guys. You immediately dart your eyes elsewhere as to not catch Harry's gaze.

"Are we ready to go?" Anne asks, and you all agree.

The car ride is insanely awkward. Having not known about what had happened an hour prior, your parents had squished you and Harry in the back by yourselves, and no words have been spoken. It's even more awkward because he's chosen to sit in the middle, so there is no space between the two of you.

"Hey," You hear Harry whisper to you. You hum mindlessly in response, nose in your book. "Can we just- can we talk? Please." The desperation in his voice almost makes you feel bad. Almost.

"Really nothing to talk about," You say quietly, trying to just focus on the words on the page in front of you. "I just need to stop getting my hopes up," You mumble.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks.

"Nothing, Harry. Just forget about it. We're good," You assure him, but you know he doesn't believe you. Instead of leaving you alone like you've asked, he takes your book out of your hands (making sure to bookmark your page) before tossing it to the floor of the car. "Hey!" You complain and go to grab it, but he captures your wrists in his hand and holds them to his stomach.

"What are you guys fighting about back there?" Anne and your mother turn around, confusion on their faces.

"He's being a menace," You seethe through your teeth.

"Hey- am not!" He whines. "I'm just trying to talk to her, but she won't get her nose out of her book!"

"You are ridiculous. I mean- first, you-"

"Shush!" Your mother cuts you off. Harry, always playing the victim, pouts and leans his face into your shoulder. "Look at him, Y/N. He misses you. Hand me the book," She demands.

"What?! You can't seriously be taking his side. You don't even know what happened!" You complain, and you scoff as Harry wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you entirely to close to his warm body.

"I don't care! You're both nineteen- I shouldn't be breaking up fights," Your mom says, but you can tell she's trying her best to not laugh.

"Fine," You mumble and hand her the book. Harry's acting like a needy puppy as he basically whimpers in the crook of your neck, his arms still snug around your body. You rest your hands on his arms and dramatically lay your head against the headrest and pout in self pity. That is until you suddenly feel something wet against your neck. "Hey, what are you doing?" You ask and shove at Harry's head. He practically growls, and you can see that he has the strap of your sundress in his mouth, gnawing on it like a child. You're taken back to childhood memories of Harry doing this when he's feeling 'small' or a bit anxious. "Oh my goodness," You sigh and settle to rubbing your hand up and down his back.

"I have to get a picture of this," You hear Anne whisper, and in a second you hear her phone clicking for a photo. The great part of Harry being an international superstar is that you know that picture will never be posted on anyone's Facebook.

After what seems like an eternity if a car ride, you’re finally pulling up to the restaurant. You begrudgingly pull Harry off of you so you could all exit the car and have it taken away by the valet. Harry ducks his head down in an attempt to not be seen and laces his fingers through yours. He's funny if he thinks this sweet act is getting him any tonight.

Your parents inform the hostess of your reservation, and you notice the way her eyes never leave Harry as she walks you to your table. His fingers finally leave yours as he pulls your chair out for you, and you resist the confused look you want to give him and just take the kindness.

It's not even two minutes later when the (very cute) waiter is appearing at your table with a smile shining your way. He asks for your drinks and tells you he'll be back in a minute for your orders, but not before flashing you one more smile.

"Seems like Y/N has an admirer," Anne laughs, and you blush.

"Oh, stop it. He's just being sweet," You mutter.

"He's- He's not sweet. He just smiled," Harry butts in, and you glare at him.

"Yeah, cause no one would ever want to flirt with me," You say, just to him.

"What? No- I didn't mean it like-"

"Okay, here are your drinks." The waiter appears again and this time gets your orders. The way he flirts with you makes you feel seen and wanted. It helps that he's attractive too- of course, no one could be more beautiful than Harry, though.

The night drawls on, and Harry gets weirder and weirder. He's getting increasingly more affectionate and lovey-dovey, and it makes a part of your stomach churn.

It's when you're all about to ask for the bill when your waiter comes out with a small bowl of ice-cream and sets it in front of you.

"Oh, I didn't ask for-"

"It's on the house, lovely," He winks and walks off, leaving you with a prominent blush and whistles sounding from your table.

"My goodness, Y/N," Your mother giggles, and her and Anne turn to gossip about your love life. You smile bashfully and look at Harry, about to rub it in his face that you're the one getting hit on for once, but you can't when you see the pitiful look on his face as he stares down at your ice-cream.

"Oh, what's wrong, bug?" You ask him, pinching his cheek and calling him the childhood nickname that always got him to smile. He grins dopily and leans his forehead on your shoulder to hide his blush. "What? Did you want to share my ice-cream?"

Harry wants nothing more than to tell you that's not what he's upset about, but he's stopped when you push him off and scoop some ice-cream onto your spoon. You hold your hand under the spoon as you direct it towards Harry's mouth, feeding him. He doesn't think he could ever hide the grin of you doing something so domestic with him as if he was your husband.

Suck it, waiter-boy.

You and Harry have just finished your desert when you're getting up and excusing yourself to the washroom. Once you've finished, you exit the restroom and are about to walk back to your table when you feel a gentle hand on your wrist. Your waiter.

"Oh! Hello," You laugh.

"I'm so sorry to be so absurd, but I couldn't live with myself knowing I let you walk out of here without at least trying to take you out on a date," He says bluntly. "It's no secret that I think you're stunning, is it?" He laughs, and you laugh as well.

"Is that so? Don't think I noticed," You play it off with a giggle.

"Can I please give you my number?" He asks, flashing you his best puppy-dog eyes.

"Yes, but..."

"Oh no, not a but," He dramatically cries, and you laugh. He's funny and cute. Maybe he's just what you need to get over Harry. "C'mon, we don't have much longer. You're family's already paid, and I'm off the clock, sugar."

"I didn't bring my phone with me! And if I go out to my table to grab it, they'll make a huge scene!" You whine, and he gasps with fake shock.

"What will we ever do?" He jokes, acting as if he's faint.

"If you keep making fun of me, I am going to kick you where the sun doesn't shine," You attempt to threaten, but you can't hold back your laughter.

"Here," He says and grasps your arm in his hand. He reaches into his pocket for a pen and starts writing his number on your arm. "Don't have my phone on me either, so this will have to do. Don't you dare wash your arm on your way back to your table," He jokes, and you laugh.

"Wouldn't dream of it," You say sweetly. "Okay! I have to go. They're going to think I fell in the toilet or something," You say, getting the cute waiter to clutch his stomach in a heavy laugh. Once he gathers himself, you quickly kiss his cheek in goodbye and run off to your table, guarding your arm with your life.

Your family is hardly waiting for you when you return, and you plop yourself back into your seat and pretend to engage in the conversation.

"Hey, what's that on your arm?" You hear Anne's voice drag you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, um- the waiter found me and gave me his number," You mumble bashfully and fail to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"You're blushing!" Your dad has to embarrass you. You're about to reply when a splash of cold liquid makes your sentence get caught in your throat. It's all over your lap and arms, and you try not to cause a scene.

"Whoops!" You hear from beside you, and you see Harry grab a napkin and start to wipe you off. Before you can stop him, he rubs at your arm, smearing the phone number so it's unreadable.

"Harry!" You gasp. Your eyes meet his, and they tell you the truth. "You did that on purpose! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Your mother shushes you as people start to stare, but it goes right over your head.

"What, no- why would I-"

"You did! You've been acting weird the entire night! Do you just not want me to be happy?!" You ask, and when he can't answer, you huff and practically sprint to the doors of the restaurant. You don't make it very far away before there's a hand on your wrist and you're being pulled into a quiet alley- out of sight from people. "Let me go," You protest and try to shake Harry's hands off of you, but they're strong on your shoulders.

"Just listen to me, would'ya?!" He asks, obviously agitated with himself.

"No- Fuck you!" You retort and continue to struggle in his hold. Then, you feel his hands on your face, and ,suddenly, his face is extremely close to yours. He's going to kiss you. He's going to kiss you for the first time since you were both thirteen. It's all you've ever wanted, so why do you push him away? "No, no, no," You tut and push him off of you. "Are you crazy?" You shout.

"Hey! Are you two coming?" Your mom suddenly appears around the corner. You shrug yourself away from Harry and turn to your mom.

"Yeah, we're coming," You say and glare at Harry who is looking at you with puppy-dog eyes. You roll your eyes and trail off behind your mom. You all make it to the car, and there is obvious tension in the air with the scene you created, but you don't care and just plug in your earbuds, turning yourself away from everyone. You can feel Harry's longing stare from beside you, but you don't give him any attention. You almost jump when you feel your phone buzz in your lap- having being so zoned out.

Harry: Talk to me.

Sigh.

You roll your eyes and set your phone on the seat in between you and Harry. Several buzzes come through before you're opening your phone in annoyance.

Harry: I'm sorry.

Harry: Actually, I'm not.

Harry: Wait. I'm sorry about the water thing, but I am not sorry for trying to kiss you.

Harry: You're so cute when you're mad.

Harry: Actually you're cunt all the time.

Harry: Autocorrect. I meant cute.

You: Stop texting me... Cunt.

You see Harry laugh out of the corner of your eye.

Harry: Stop being irresistible, and I would.

You: Ew.

Harry: You love me.

Ouch.

You: That's the problem.

You send the message and then immediately drop your phone, face-down, into your lap and stare out the window next to you.

For the next half-hour, the car was relatively quiet. You were almost ecstatic when you see the familiar hotel come into view. You were the first one to jump out of the car and practically run into the building. You thought you would so lucky as to get a moment of peace by yourself, but that dream is quickly squashed when someone's hand sneaks in between the elevator doors last minute.

"Thanks for waiting up," Harry says sarcastically. You don't give him the satisfaction of a response. The air is stiff as the elevator starts to move. And then, suddenly, it comes to a halt. A very abrupt stop. "What the hell?" Harry says, and immediately after, all the lights, except for one emergency one, shuts off, leaving you two in a very dim light. It was just enough to see each other. It was enough for Harry to see the anxiety on your face.

"Knew I should've taken the stairs- Oh God." You can already feel your breathing becoming uneven.

"Hey, hey, it's okay- we'll be alright," He assures you and presses a kiss to the top of your head. He then presses the emergency call button and begins talking to the hotel staff for about five minutes. They explain that you two might be stuck up there for a few hours.

Great.

In the midst of the craziness, you had resorted to scrunching yourself into one of the corners of the elevator, trying to keep your mentality in check.

"Looks like we'll be in here for a while, moppet," Harry sighs and sits down against the wall opposite of you. You hum in agreement and keep your face pressed into your knees. "Might as well use this time to clear the air, huh?" He asks, and your breath hitches.

"Don't need to talk about anything," You answer simply.

"No?" He asks condescendingly.

"You're a jerk. That's about it," You say, raising your face to finally look at him.

"Oh, I am?"

"Are you just going to ask a question every time I say something, or are you actually going to talk?"

"Explain to me how I'm a jerk, please," He asks, genuinely wanting to know your side.

"I can't," You whisper, hiding your face again.

"Why not?"

Screw it.

"You know what? I'll talk," You decide. "You're not going to like it and will probably think I'm a freak, but I don't even care anymore." You take a deep breath and lift your head.

"Y/N, what are you talking about?" Harry asks, clearly confused.

"You remember when we were thirteen and we dated?" You ask bluntly. He's clearly taken aback.

"Um- well, yeah. We were each other's first kisses," He smiles as if remembering the memory.

"Yeah. And then at a party you went and kissed Cheryl Taylor and totally blew me off. You didn't even look back to see if I was okay! God, I get that we were thirteen, but Harry, I really liked you, and you didn't even care. We went back to best friends, and you acted like nothing happened, but I couldn't forget- I still can't. The way you blow me off when you even catch a glimpse of a girl- it makes me realize you haven't changed since we were thirteen, and I don't think you ever will. You don't text or call when you go on tour. I text, I try to call, so don't you dare ever try to put some weird manly claim on me just because you can. It's not fair that I love you in a way I'll never be able to shake when you can just toss me to the side when it's inconvenient for you."

The end of your speech had the air running cold. Harry was silent, stoic. His eyes were slightly wide and glassy- hands fidgeting as if they didn't belong in his own skin.

"I don't- um, I don't know what to say," Harry whispers after a few minutes of muteness.

"I know. You don't have to say anything. I get it."

"You don't- that's what I'm trying to figure out how to say-"

"Don't. Don't do that," You cut him off. "That's the worst thing you could do right now." Your voice shakes. "Don't you dare try to tell me you 'loved' me out of pity."

"But what if it's true?" He counters.

"Then you have a real strange way of showing it."

That shuts him up for a minute, enough time to let you collect yourself again.

"Look, I know it was a lot to spring on you, so it's probably making you think some things you don't actually feel-"

"Then why would I have gotten so mad at the restaurant? I had no idea about how you felt, so explain that," He counters. You're caught there for a moment.

"I don't know, but obviously your affections aren't very meaningful if you were sucking some other girl's face literally three hours ago."

"Fuck, I know how this looks, but it seriously didn't mean anything. I didn't even know how you felt about me! You can't blame this all on me when you never said anything!" He's starting to get riled up now. Harry's used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and you're not making this easy on him.

"You're such a brat. Stop whining and take responsibility."

"Oh, I'm the brat?! You've been fucking whining this whole trip, and it could've been you I was pounding into the mattress if-"

"I'm whining because I love you!" You yell.

"Well, so do fuckin' I!" He counters back, both of you staring at each other intensely and breathing like you've just run a marathon. Just as he's about to say something, a voice sounds through the elevator's speaker.

"It seems a though the fire department got here much quicker, so you two should be out within the next five minutes!" The awfully chipper lady informs you.

"This isn't fucking over," He practically growls at you as you start to hear the elevator being pried open.

"Oh, until you drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness, we're not talking."

"Think it'll be the other way around, babe," He answers back slyly, and you know the games have just begun.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter four

of rage and ruin series

chapter four

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: You get a better idea of Joel's life here, and your purpose is made explicitly clear.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), depiction of injury, body horror, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, viewer discretion is advised, menstruation and oral, slow burn, whipping, explicit abuse by captors

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“You, girl,” Jim snaps. “Heel.”

Your head whips to the door, fear forgotten long enough to stare incredulously. But the look falls off your face quickly at the rage on his. Out of the corner of your eye, Joel shakes his head minutely, jerking it just enough toward Jim that you get the picture. 

You’d bristle about it later, but the cold rushes back through your veins as Jim’s ruddy face grows darker. 

“Now, bitch.” 

Despite being fully human, a growl rumbles from your cellmate. The shadows do nothing to soften his sharpness, but Jim just waggles the remote to the shock collar in his hand.

“You got somethin’ to say, boy?” he says. 

Joel’s lip twitches, but he falls silent. 

You get to your feet, making your way to the door on shaky legs with your head down. 

He hates it. Hates how you shrink yourself down, how your smell stings his nostrils. 

But he’ll hate what happens next more.

Jim shuts the bars behind you, but not the door. He pushes you roughly up against them, wasting no time binding your hands. With a hand on the back of your neck, he smiles.

Unlike Cheryl’s preternatural ability to be put together in the post-apocalyptical wasteland, Jim wears the end of the world. His hand is rough and wrinkled against your skin, and the terrible grin he puts on when he leans close to your ear is missing more than a few teeth. 

“I told you,” he says, low and slithering, his hot breath gusting in your ear and making you shudder. “You only get her when you behave.”

Joel tears his gaze away from the place you’d vacated, and his whole body jerks like he's about to get up. Everything goes tense, the muscle in his neck taut and twitchy, and the room darkening with the furrow of his brow. “Don’t.”

“Too late for that,” Jim says, huffing a breathy laugh. “You still haven’t learned. I don’t think you’re going to. But she might.”

“Don’t,” Joel warns again.

But it's empty, and both men know it. 

You aren’t sure what's happening, but the overwhelming dread is seeping through your haze of ignorance. Jim yanks you away from the bars just as Joel jumps to his feet to reach it. You're shoved against the door to your room, just far enough to keep Joel’s less-than-human arm from swiping through, claws popping out as he changes. 

For the first time you've seen, though, he doesn’t go all the way. He's still undeniably human, though pushing into something unsettling. An unspeakable oddity, his face just warped enough to be wrong. 

Jim pushes your head against the door. “Don’t fuckin’ move,” he spits

“Leave her the fuck alone,” Joel says. His voice slurred a little with too-long teeth straining his jaw. 

The first hit shocks your system. It doesn’t register right away. The crack rings in your ear, and your vision goes a little fuzzy for a moment before the pain seeps below your skin. 

By then, he’s hit you again. You jerk away, ducking to avoid the range of the belt, but it doesn’t save you. It just means the leather catches you on the thigh, and you nearly topple over. 

Jim catches you by the ear and yanks you back in place. “I said don’t fucking move.” 

This time, when he strikes you, you cry out. You can’t help it; you try to move away again, and finally, he kicks you to the ground. You turn your face in time to avoid breaking your nose, but it hurts like hell. His boot grinds into your back, and he brings the belt down over and over while you writhe and cry. 

When he lets up, you don’t move. With your hands tied, it’s not like you could have gotten up on your own anyway, but you don’t try to roll over or curl up. You just cower, body shaking, blood dripping from a few of the stripes on your back. 

You don’t need to look to know he’s gone full wolf now; the cacophony of rage tells you everything you need to know. You don’t need to look to know when Jim hits the button on the shock collar and takes him to the floor. 

Jim hefts you up by your bound arms and shoves you into your prison, away from his room.

Away from Joel. 

One sunny September morning—because, of course, it was September, life always ends in Septembers���Tommy Miller arrived at his brother’s cabin ahead of the full moon. He had a case of shitty beer in dusty bottles and was looking forward to the venison jerky Joel’d been smoking.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he opened the door. The cabin was empty—not in of itself a warning sign—but it was immediately clear that Joel wasn’t just out on a hunt or bathing in the creek.

His boots and coat were gone. So was the shotgun. But the quilt on the sofa was musty and the distinct smell of rotting food permeated the cabin.

Tommy’s stomach plummeted and he broke out in a sweat, not bothering to take his boots off as he crept through the tiny home, praying he didn’t find his brother.

The prayers were answered. 

He spent two nights there, knowing it was fruitless, but combing the perimeter for signs anyway. On the third day, he found one.

Maybe it was someone else’s tan cotton duck Carhartt. Someone who happened to be Joel’s size and smelled like the hand-rolled cigarettes and bootleg whiskey Tommy brought from the QZ. 

Maybe.

But he wasn’t a fool, and no matter how many maybes he tried on, they never fit. Neither did the jacket, not really, but that didn’t stop him from pulling it on.

The coat, now a deeper, splotchy brown with tattered gashes, had belonged to his brother.

He took the jacket back to the cabin and took himself back home to Tess for the last time.

They stayed in touch—him delivering to her outside the zone and her traipsing out to the woods—but Tommy Miller would never step a foot back in Boston.

The days after you took Joel’s punishment were hell. There was no way around it. In addition to the whipping, you went without food or fresh water for another day. With no deliveries, you were left in total isolation.

Your only company was the plaintive whining of your neighbor. Anything louder was immediately silenced by the unmistakable buzz of the shock collar and his sharp yelps. 

On the second day, Cheryl pays you a visit. Her arrival is heralded by nasty growling, and she’s scolding him like a naughty puppy when she opens your door.

“Now aren’t you pathetic?” she coos at your limp body before closing herself in amidst a renewed cacophony. 

You don’t answer. You’ve sprawled yourself out down the length of a bench, uneven boards digging into your stomach just to keep the pressure and dirt away from the welts. 

“Up,” she snaps her fingers. “Wash day. Can’t let you get an infection and die after all we’ve invested in you.”

The steel door to Joel’s cell is closed when she drags you out, but he can clearly smell the fresh blood from jostling your wounds because he starts growling again.

“Stop,” you whisper, barely audible, and he falls silent.

“What was that?” Cheryl asks, but you don’t acknowledge her and let out a slow breath when she brushes it off.

Wash day is always terrible, save one part: the sun. It’s the only time you get to be outdoors, the only chance you have to feel sunlight on your skin. Today is particularly nice, the warmth immediately embracing you.

Cheryl doesn’t usually do the honors herself, but the others seem to be absent. At least, that’s what you think.

She clips your cuffs to the hook dangling from an old, rusted basketball hoop and grabs the hose, unleashing the frigid spray on you without warning.

It always hurts, but your sore and wounded body suffers more today. Blood drips down the back of your thighs, and you bite your tongue against the wretched sting. She doesn’t scrub you which is a blessing and a curse. No rough sponge on your wounds, but no soap, either.

She leaves you there for a minute, nozzle still dripping lazily as it dangles from her hand.

“Why hasn’t he claimed you yet?” She asks after you’ve begun to shiver despite the weather.

“What?” 

“He didn’t fuck you. He shouldn’t have been able to help himself. What’s wrong with you?”

You’re baffled, but overcome by the sudden sense of fear. She thinks he’s rejecting you, and it’s clear now that by not raping you, he’s endangered you still. 

You can feel your life expectancy dwindling under her scrutiny.

“I-I don’t know,” you say uselessly.

“Hmm,” is all she says, drumming her nails against her folded arms. 

“Um. You keep taking me away,” you try quickly. “He probably just thinks you’ll do it again.”

She scoffs. “Sweetie, his last omega didn’t make it ten minutes before he lost control.”

When she brings you back in, there’s not a peep from the wolf. She shuts you back in your shitty locker room, water still dripping from your hair. Your bra and panties are drenched.

But you’re used to it. 

It’s not long after she leaves that he whines again.

“Shut up,” you hiss. “Just shut up. ” The anger blindsides you both. You want to be mad. You want to reach down somewhere deep in your chest and unearth the bloody lump of indignant rage.

“I know you can hear me, so just listen. I’m stuck here because of you. I’m injured because of you. And now she’s threatening to let me die because of you. So just fucking be quiet and leave me alone for once.”

It’s like a slap in the face. No, it’s worse. It’s true, and he knows it. Your words, your undeniable words, tear into him and hurt the wolf so badly that he turns back into the man.

That’s a first.

Now he knows the line. Being rejected so thoroughly by his mate is more than the beast can bear.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, and it’s the last you hear from him for two weeks.

By the time you’re back in his room, you’ve come to regret your cold words. You know he didn’t ask for any of this; didn’t ask to be held captive; didn’t ask for them to take you.

But you can’t unsay it, and you can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud.

You’re loose again, the cage seemingly a thing of the past, when he returns. The Wolf stalks in and almost ignores you. Almost.

But he can’t, not when you smell like blood. 

You look rough. He doesn’t like it. It stands his fur on edge, bristling at the way you wince when the cramps roll through, how you can’t settle in a way that soothes your aching hip. The way you can’t eat your stew when they bring it alongside his heaping tray of meat, wrinkling your nose at the smell. 

It takes him mere minutes to gobble it up, but the hunger lingers. Tomorrow’s the full moon, and he’ll be released to feast, but the insatiability gnaws at him until then. And it’s so hard to resist you.

Your musk may be undercut with battery acid but the coppery tang on the air has him salivating. Literally slobbering.

And that primal burning inside him knows just how to sate his hunger and the frankly distressing need to soothe his omega. 

His. The thought sends him rumbling, startling you with the deep, entrancing sound. You meet his eyes, and when he sees them shine with unshed tears, all resolve dies.

Omega, hurt. 

Help.

Taste.

He stalks over, lumbering on all fours, warped spine arched as he gives into the slinking, slow approach of the predator he truly is.

You still flinch back when he nears, and he has had enough. Don’t you realize? If he wanted to hurt you, if he was capable of it, he could have. Would have.

His hot breath floods across your knees, the only warning before he nestles his snout between them and shoves.

You recoil against the wall. 

He whines, nudging you again, urging you to open up for him, to expose the sweet flow that is so uniquely you and just for him. All for him. His.

“Stop,” you whisper.

He nudges you again.

“Knock it off. I told you, it’s just my cycle.”

He makes sure you’re looking before he rolls his eyes. 

Your jaw drops. “Seriously?”

He huffs. Why won’t you just cooperate? Why do you always have to be so goddamn stubborn?

He nudges your hand and waits until you look at it. He licks your wrist with a long, wet stripe of saliva left behind and then looks down at where your thighs are resolutely closed.

“Ew,” you say instead of obeying.

He tries again and watches it click as you cringe back.

“I don’t care if it’ll take away the pain,” you scold. “Absolutely not. You cannot be serious.”

He growls at your protests, bumping you again.

“That’s gross. Seriously, Joel.” But your resolve is not strong. You acutely remember how nice it felt when he healed your rope burn and how gently his tongue had lapped at the raw flesh. And you’re on your second day, the migraine fading but the sore ache making itself known as you hold your body tense through the pain. 

He nudges you again.

“It’s… wrong,” you try weakly. And you think you should feel that way, but deep down, you just don’t. There was a reason you read Twilight when you were too old for that kind of horny pre-teen nonsense. There was a reason your bookshelves had been full of Anne Rice and Charlaine Harris. 

There was a reason you watched The Creature From the Black Lagoon and American Werewolf in London and all those classic monster movies over and over and over.

The tension in your thighs eases, and when his cold nose shoves between them again, your knees part easily.

He rumbles his approval, knocking your legs apart as he lowers his great, hulking self to the ground, where your blood is slowly pooling.

Two enormous, furry hands grip your legs, careful not to prick you with the long claws. The muscles of his arms ripple, and you feel your breath hitch, growing shallow.

You jolt at the first brush of his long, rough tongue. You had expected him to start slow, tentative. To see if he could tolerate it.

But he has you spread firmly, all but forcing his tongue into your aching cunt and lapping greedily at his spoils.

The flow is quickly becoming diluted by your arousal, which only serves to spur him on.

You make the mistake of looking, stomach swooping as you take in the nightmarish beast, whose eyes are flooded with ichor as he slurps greedily from you.

It wasn’t even necessarily erotic. He wasn’t attempting to coax an orgasm from you, not enticing you with soft flicks to your clit or any real stimulation. He was simply feasting . 

That doesn’t stop you, though. It’s an electric feeling, his wide tongue filling you, emptying you, purging you of your pain with each swipe against your walls, and it brings you abruptly over the edge of your pleasure.

You come back to your senses gasping, a hand fisted in his fur. You loosen your grip but don’t let go as you come down from the feeling.

The noise doesn’t register at first, but it’s not long before the echo of the slick slapping where he’s fisting his cock surrounds you. He’s still between your legs, his snout pushed up against your cunt with fervor as he tugs roughly at the thick, uncut length.

It’s a beast all on its own, and you shiver at the thought of him splitting you open with it, of watching the angry red tip emerge and disappear inside you.

You think he’s going to be embarrassed, but he can’t find the feeling within him. His hot cum splatters on the ground, splashing against your toes, and instead of slinking over to his waiting bed, he curls his entire body around you like a can cozy.

You can’t complain. His tongue had eased your aches, leaving you drowsy and tingling, almost drugged. His fur is rough and yet somehow silky, and he’s broad enough to envelop you entirely in warmth. 

The Wolf may have no qualms, but the Man, as you come to find out, is another story.

next chapter

[germiyahu]

Not too thrilled that my other post is getting so many notes when I'm not satisfied with it for a multitude of reasons. Let's have a do-over, hopefully much more succinct and to the original point.

When Palestinians, actually basically all Arabs, or all Muslims, say "Jerusalem is holy to us it is the 3rd holiest city in our religion." The White Western Leftist (WWL) will say "That's so valid your religion is so interesting and beautiful Hamas did nothing wrong I love the Houthis!"

But if a Jew ever rebuts "Jerusalem is holy to us as well, it's our holiest city, basically the only one we have," the WWL will probably roll their eyes, scoff, probably say something like "Okay but like why are you still using your outdated Zionist death cult to justify colonialism? You really think the Bible justifies killing millions of Palestinians?" and start going on and on about how Judaism invented everything bad about Christianity.

My hypothesis: These people are not allies to Muslims (Palestinians). They are condescending to them. They are throwing them a bone because they feel bad about how the Muslim world has been treated, well ever since Sykes-Picot, but especially post 9/11, the Patriot Act, The War on Terror, Iraq, Afghanistan, the Drone War, Libya, Nato, The Arab Spring, the list goes on. They don't think Muslims are capable of building the kind of societies they want, not without their gracious help. They don't think Muslims should have the same ideals of democracy and human rights, because they don't expect that from the Brown People. They won't ever hold them to such a standard because "Ugh where do we get off lecturing them?" even though they would never think this of Jews.

These people are not equals to Jews, something something Sartre they think they are both superior and inferior (which makes them superior). They are not just trying to hold their fellow citizens of the world to account. They are trying to put Jews in their place. They are projecting their religious trauma onto Jews because they do not understand Judaism. They see Judaism as Power. They are trying to delegitimize Judaism as a religion (and it is a religion, including the parts of religions that give atheists the "ick," including a lot of mysticism). They are trying to caterwaul about Jews being responsible for the world's ills and that they expect Jewish People to be better than this. To evolve beyond religion and community and affiliation and identity. They want Jewish to be nothing more than a box ticked off on a census. A neat little factoid about yourself, like how your neighbor Cheryl has Norwegian ancestry.

My only conclusion is that these people find Jews and Judaism repulsive, and they find Muslims and Islam primitive. Unlike their parents' generation, they appreciate the primitive. It is noble savagery to them. Unlike their parents' generation, the comparatively cosmopolitan modern secular Western sheen of Jewry (applied to Jews against their will) is not something that we almost lost from the world, but an annoying holdover of what we almost successfully purged from the world.

Because remember, while they hate their parents and everything they stand for, they still deep down want Daddy's approval. So it makes perfect sense why the psyche would displace anger and trauma and all that caused by Christianity, and look elsewhere to place blame. It falls at the feet of Jews and Judaism. Because my culture could never, there has to be a missing puzzle piece that could explain- oh there it is. The Jews did it. And wow look how easily this can slot in with every other antisemitism conspiracy theory.

The audacity to think I could make a shorter version of that post 😂 But basically it's this: The WWL, the Zoomer Left, the Tankies, whatever name you call them... they think that they can "save" Muslims by offering up Jews, and the terrorist fascist fundamentalists like Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, they're on board. They're all in. Normal ass every day Muslims/Palestinians? They just want peace, they just want rights, they just want sovereignty. The WWL is not interested in that perspective.

They have not once in their lives thought of what they could possibly do in terms of reparations. No no, tweeting and marching for a weekend are quite enough. They have not once in their lives turned inward and self reflected on the ways they benefit from and their own role in these systems of supremacy, that have harmed Muslims around the world. Jewish blood is more than enough to pay for operation Iraqi Freedom. Jewish lives are a fetching price to assuage the Westerner's guilt. You know since they have so much trouble turning inward and reflecting on their own contribution to Islamophobia, it might do them good to practice a little תשובה... but I don't know 😌

[storiesforallfandoms]

more than a song ~ alex turner

word count: 2937

request?: yes!

“hi lovely! i wanted to request an alex turner x reader. just something based off of the song you’re so dark by arctic monkeys. he’s been friends with you for a while but a side comment from his girlfriend (something just like she doesn’t get how they’re just friends) and it’s just snaps into place. ig just him writing the song and moments of them together. maybeeeee him jacking off imagining her on all fours 👀. something like that! thank youuuuu”

description: in which he starts by writing a song about his best friend who is much different than him, and it turns into something more

pairing: alex turner x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (male masturbation), kind of cheating since alex is imagining the reader and not his girlfriend (who will be a made up character, not his real girlfriend louise), also the reader doesn’t really know what alex was doing so idk take that into consideration? idk these warnings are a mess now

masterlist (one, two, three)

It all started with a comment his girlfriend, Cheryl, made.

“She’s so dark. How are you two friends?”

They had just left a night out with Alex’s bandmates and his best friend, (Y/N). It was the first time the two women had met, which Alex was hoping would go well since both of them meant so much to him. They had just barley left the bar when Cheryl made the comment.

It amused him so much that he couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Why do you say that?”

Cheryl gave Alex a look. “Really?”

He stopped walking so he could turn to face her. “I’m serious. What do you mean she’s dark?”

“Alex...she talked for nearly an hour about HP Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.”

Alex waited, expecting her to explain why that was a bad thing. When she didn’t, he said, “Yeah, those are her favorite authors.”

“They’re very depressing authors.”

Alex shrugged. “I’ve never read any of their stuff.”

Cheryl closed her eyes and sighed. “She’s got a very dark personality, Alex. Like murder of crows follow her around, Addams family’s long lost member dark. It’s just weird to me that you’re her friend when she’s so depressing.”

“Hey, you may think that, but she’s still my best friend. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t insult her like that.”

Cheryl crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe I should be questioning your friendship with her in different ways.”

It was safe to say the night did not go as planned. Alex brought Cheryl home in a tense silence. He gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek before she got out without a word, slamming her door shut behind her.

The night had definitely left a slight strain on their relationship. Cheryl had decided that she hated (Y/N) just because of this idea she had that Alex and (Y/N) had romantic feelings for one another, but Alex refused to end his friendship with her when that wasn’t true at all, and when he had known (Y/N) for so much longer than Cheryl. So, even though they decided to continue their relationship, it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.

But Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N)’s personality stuck in Alex’s mind. He had never noticed a “darkness” to his best friend. She was just (Y/N), the person Alex had known since they were kids. But now he was thinking about the things she liked, and the way she acted and just her general personality. He found himself humming to himself around his apartment; a melody at first, but eventually lyrics started forming in his mind.

“You got your HP Lovecraft. Your Edgar Allan Poe.”

He quickly rushed to his work desk to scribble down the lyrics as they came to his head.

“You got your unkind ravens, and your murder of crows.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he thought of Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N) being like a murder of crows. What Cheryl didn’t know was that (Y/N) had a tattoo along the backside of her left shoulder that was a flock of black birds. They weren’t distinguishable birds, but she often said it was a murder of crows since they were black birds. Cheryl would probably have lost her mind if (Y/N) was wearing anything that would’ve showed off that tattoo.

Thinking of Cheryl caused his mind to wander to the turmoil of their relationship. He looked down at the verse and chorus he had written about (Y/N) and thought about the fact that he was in the process of writing a song for his best friend when he had never had thought about writing one for Cheryl at all since they started dating. Maybe Cheryl was right to think Alex felt stronger feelings than friendship for (Y/N).

He shook his head. No, that’s not it. She’s my best friend since we were kids, and I’ve only known Cheryl for a few months. That’s all it is.

“I know you’re nothing like mine, cause she’s walking on sunshine. And your love would tear us apart.”

Alex was at his desk for nearly an hour putting the song together. He had two full verses and a rough outline for the chorus, but it still needed something more. He was toying around with more lyrics when he started writing, “You watch Italian horror and you listen to the scores. Leather-clad and spike collar, I want you down on all fours.”

“Whoa,” he muttered to himself. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

But now that he had written it, he couldn’t help but picture (Y/N) doing exactly what he had written: on his bed, down on all fours, her ass in the air.

He shook his head. “No,” he scolded himself. “No, stop. This is wrong.”

But he couldn’t stop. He closed his eyes and the image was embedded into his eyelids. He felt himself straining against his jeans as he imagined himself knelt behind her, looking down at her ass in the wear, wearing only a pair of lacy black underwear.

He groaned as he palmed himself through his jeans. The desire was far too strong to ignore. He had to take care of this, otherwise he knew he’d have a nasty ache between his legs that he would not be able to get rid of.

Just one time, he thought. Then I’ll never think of her like this again.

Alex unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees. His dick was hard as a rock and angry red. He hissed as the cool air touched the sensitive area. He spit on his hand and wrapped his hand around the base. His head tipped back as a moan erupted from his throat.

He closed his eyes and the image of (Y/N) appeared again. Her face buried into the pillow beneath her, moans muffled by the fabric of the pillow. Alex’s dick plunging in and out of her tight pussy, her ass bouncing every time his hips collided with it. He imagined that her moans were as pretty as her regular voice was. Picturing that pretty voice moaning his name caused his dick to twitch in his hand.

The wet sounds of his hand stroking his dick mixed with his heavy breathing and moans filled the room. His mind drifted from having her bent over in front of him to having her sat on his lap in the very chair where he was sat. He imagined (Y/N), still just in a matching lingerie set, pulling him away from his songwriting so she could climb up onto his lap and straddle him. He imagined her pulling the fabric of her panties to the side, a string of arousal connecting her needy hole and the underwear. He could almost feel the warm, wetness of her walls as she sunk herself down onto him, and her lips on his neck as she started to ride him.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “God, that feels so good.”

His desire to have her grew, even though he knew he never would. She was his best friend. There was no way she felt this way for him, too. And he definitely was not going to risk their friendship by bringing these feelings up to her. More than anything, (Y/N) was his friend and he wasn’t about to lose her all together. For now, the only way he’d have her would be in his imagination, and he was more than okay with that.

Behind his closed eyes he could see (Y/N)’s perfect tits bouncing in his face. He squeezed the base of his dick a little tighter as his jerking motions became quicker, almost more desperate. He could feel his high creeping up on him, and he was desperately trying to chase it.

In his mind, (Y/N) was leaning into his ear. In a sexy, sultry voice, he pictured her whispering, “Cum for me, Alex.”

And that was all he needed to go tumbling over the edge. He called out her name into his empty apartment as his hot cum spilled over his hand, lap, and some on his shirt. He mentally cursed to himself for not preparing more for the mess, but physically he felt incapable of fixing it. He let his head rest on the back of the chair as he breathed heavily. When he opened his eyes to finally face reality, he was looking up at the ceiling instead of at (Y/N)’s beautiful face.

There was a slight ringing in his ears as the blood flow from his brain to his dick finally went down. It was loud enough that he almost didn’t hear his phone vibrating on the desk and took him a moment to realize someone was trying to call him. He reached out with his clean hand to look at the caller ID, and his heart skipped a beat when (Y/N)’s name and face popped up on his screen.

Against his better judgement, Alex answered. “Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” (Y/N) asked, a joking tone in her voice. “I’ve sent you, like, five text messages.”

Alex pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the lockscreen to see that (Y/N) had in fact tried to text him.

“Hey fucker, what are you doing?”

“Hello? Alex?”

“Quick wanking off and answer me.” (That one both made him laugh and made his heart pound harder against his chest.)

“Listen, can I come over? I wanted to talk about something.”

“I really hope the reason you’re not answering is not what I think.”

“Sorry, I was - uh - I was busy writing,” he said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. “I got really into it and had my phone on silent. Didn’t even know you were texting me. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Well, I’m currently parked outside your place. Can I come in to talk about it?”

He felt his blood run cold. (Y/N) was outside his place right now trying to come in to talk to him, meanwhile he was sat at his work desk with cum over himself after jerking off to the thought of her.

This truly could not be any worse.

“Yeah! Yeah, just give me a second,” he said, quickly trying to figure out a solution to this.

“Alex, I’ve known you for years, you do not have to tidy the place up for me,” (Y/N) said.

“I know, I just need to...I just have to do something before you come in. Give me a second.”

He hung up before (Y/N) could protest any further. He quickly took off his already cum-stained shirt and used it to wipe off his hand and the area around his dick. He threw the shirt with the rest of his dirty clothes, tucked himself back into his jeans, and found a new shirt to put on. Just as he was pulling the shirt over his head, the doorbell started ringing. He quickly raced to his front door and threw it open to reveal (Y/N) stood there.

“Are you done whatever you had to do?” she asked, but pushed past him before he could answer.

“Come on in, make yourself at home,” he teased as he followed her in.

“I always do,” she said with a smirk. “You’re lucky I respect your privacy enough that I didn’t just get that hidden spare key and barge in here before I called.”

Very, very lucky for that, actually.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked her as they reached his living room. “Your texts sounded serious.”

(Y/N) sighed and flopped down onto his couch. Alex sat across from her, leaving a decent amount of space between them. His mind was still reeling from the mental images from earlier that he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to be so close to (Y/N) right now.

But she seemed very troubled, which was very concerning to him. (Y/N) always talked to him when something was wrong, but very rarely did she physically come over to his place to talk about something. He knew whatever it was had to be very serious for her to show up so suddenly like this.

“I ran into Cheryl at the store just now,” she said, looking down at her lap. “And...well...I know she doesn’t like me. I’m not stupid. I know there’s a reason she doesn’t come out anymore when she knows I’m there, and our brief run ins since we first met always include a glare whenever she sees me. Don’t even try to deny it, Alex.”

He wasn’t going to, but his mouth had been open to speak. He wasn’t even sure what he would’ve said, so he closed his mouth again and allowed her to go on.

“I saw her and decided just to try and avoid her. I expected her to do the same. There was really no reason for her to approach me when it was just her, so I thought. But she came right up to me in the middle of an aisle and she...well, the best way to describe it is she went off on a tirade about not liking me and how she wishes you would just stop being friends with me, and even told me that I should be the one to end our friendship so that she didn’t have to stress about me and you anymore.”

Alex’s hands balled into fists on his lap. He couldn’t believe Cheryl would really go up to (Y/N) like that when he wasn’t around. Like (Y/N), he figured that Cheryl would’ve just walked the other way and left her alone since she disliked her so much. But to go up to his best friend in a public and to go as far as telling her to stop being friends with him for the sake of a relationship that wasn’t even a month in was further than he ever expected her to go.

“I thought you weren’t responding because she got to you first,” (Y/N) continued. “I thought she was going to come to you with some made up bullshit saying that I was the one who attacked her or something.”

“I haven’t heard from her,” Alex said. “I guess she’s waiting till whenever I see her next.”

“Listen, I’m sorry that I’m causing this strain on your relationship - ”

Alex reached out to take (Y/N)’s hand to cut her off. The contact sent a spark through him, but he tried his best to ignore it.

“You’re not the one causing any strain to my relationship. Cheryl is. She’s the one who is feeling so insecure about our relationship that she has to go as far as calling you down to the dirt while I’m not around. I’ve tried everything to assure her there’s nothing to worry about between us, but it’s not enough for her. I think...I don’t think I can continue this relationship with her. Especially not after what you told me.”

(Y/N) looked down at their joined hands. In a soft voice she said, “She’s a fucking bitch.”

Alex smiled and chuckled softly. (Y/N) did as well, and eventually, they were both laughing at her comment.

When the laughter died down silence fell over them. Neither one of them knew how to break it, but they didn’t really feel like they had to. Silence always felt comfortable between the two of them. They never felt like they had to speak if they didn’t want to. They could just sit like this for hours and it would be fine.

But their hands were still joined together. (Y/N) was tracing circles in the back of his hand with her thumb, almost absentmindedly. He liked the feeling of her hand against his. He never wanted to let go of her.

“You said you were writing when I came?” she finally asked, looking up at him. “Anything good?”

“Oh, um, I think so? I haven’t really put it together properly. It’s just a couple verses and a chorus that I have to finish.”

“Can I hear it? Or see what you have written, at least?”

His face burned at the question. He knew he was definitely blushing by the way that a confused look creeped on (Y/N)’s face. How did he show her this song, which was clearly about her and included a line about wanting to fuck her, and not absolutely ruin their friendship in this moment?

“I-I guess, if-if you wanted to,” he stuttered. “But, um...it’s...it’s a little embarrassing because...well, you were my muse for it.”

Her face seemed to brighten. “Really? You were writing about me?”

“Yeah. There’s some lyrics...well, you’d know it was about you the song is released so I guess there’s no getting around it, there’s some lyrics that are a bit...more than friendly.”

And there it was. There was no taking it back.

He watched her face, trying to gauge what her reaction to that revelation would be. She was just looking at him for a moment, as if registering his words, before a smirk crept across her face.

“Then show me,” she told him, her voice low and sultry the exact same way it had been in his imagination.

And Alex swore he had never been more excited than in that moment.

[sensei-venus]

Serpent-Cide (1/?)

(Unedited) (Reader secretly hates everyone, she just wants to go home. Number one #fuckthenorthsiders fan Reader. Reader is just a loner who tolerates everyone’s bs.)

(Part One|Part Two|Part Three|TBA|)

Reader didn’t want to think about school. She didn’t want to think about having to walk the halls along side the stuck up students. The cheerleader, jocks hell even the geeks of the school where assholes. It was like the north side was a target for producing shitty ass people.

Just about everyone in the whole town could be labeled a horrible person.

It was like they where breed here, raised here, meant to start a life long relationship with hurting others. Both physically and mentally, hell even emotionally.

Half of the kids at that school where skilled at emotional manipulation.

“Reader you will be assigned to the welcoming committee. You don’t have any community hours for this semester so this should give you quite a few. Make sure you meet in the hallway tomorrow morning, 8:00 sharp. The new transfer students from SouthSide High should be arriving by then.” One of the volunteer heads said. Reader slumped in her seat a little and rolled her eyes. Great, now she had to deal with not only the stuck up northsider kids but now the southsiders.

Moments later the bell rang for first period and everyone in the community room slowly started to leave. She waited a moment until just about everyone was gone. Slowly grabbing her bag from off the floor she made her way to class. The hallway was crowded as she maneuvered around the crowds of students. Flooded with kids, pushing and shoving each other.

The sound of something hitting lockers, hard, filled the hallway and made her look around. She pushed past the people around her. Hoping to just get to class. She didn’t need to get into anyone business, know anything she really didn’t need to. It would just be a reason for her to keep thinking about the people who lived, breath and love this shitty ass school. All she wanted to do was get to class.

Sadly her luck wasn’t on her side this time, it never seemed to be.

Her eyes caught the one and only Reggie Mantle as he shoved some poor kid face first into a locker. Their eyes only met for a moment before him and his friends went back to what they where doing. Messing with some bottom feeder kid who probably just looked at him wrong. The urge to just go the other way she came started to bubble into her gut. So that is what she did, turned right back around and went with the flow of the opposite direction of traffic. It would take twice the time to get to her class but she didn’t have to worry about bumping into that jerk. She huffed as she was shoved deeper into the crowed.

Why did this school always have to pull the worst shit over on her.

The next morning didn’t go as planned at all. The bus she usually took to go to school broke down and she had to walk. Instead of waiting around to get a ride she decided to just walk it. She ended up having to jog just to make it on time. All she needed was some stupid mark on her record for “trying to skip a volunteer credit” or something from the leadership board.

Huffing she enters though the front of the school where she was meet with a few different faces. Most of which made her even more exhausted then she already was.

Archie, Veronica, Betty and even Cheryl stud around the almost completely empty front hallway. It was almost as if half of the student body didn’t want to be around the southside kids. She kinda understood where they where coming from, then again she didn’t really care. Stereotyping a whole group of people they had never even meet before wasn’t really something she had hopes of doing. The southside was bad, shady and drug filled. But as long as these kids didn’t mess with her like the kids at this school, she would be ok with them.

Hopefully they would just cut her some slack and leave her alone for the rest of the year.

Or, her worst nightmare, they picked up on half of the schools ideals for bullying people, no matter who they where or what they did.

“Hey Reader you made it! I was scared you would have skipped the introduction.” Betty said in a whisper as they walked to a more casual spot in the hall. Reader just sighed, looking at the closed front doors of the school. She had to admit that her nerves where a little on edge. Being around people for her was hard, even people she knew. Betty was a okay person, a little preppy and a bit of a good girl but she was nice enough In Reader’s opinion.

She wouldn’t say they where friends per say but rather good acquaintances. They worked on a few projects together, sat with each other at lunch a few times, borrowed books from each other when they checked them out of the library. Nothing huge to make them good friends but decent enough that Reader didn’t see her as a issue to deal with.

“Stupid bus broke down and they wanted me to wait for a whole hour for another one to show up. All I need is that community leader to try and say I was trying to skip. It’s always something with this school…” she trailed off. Lazily she checked her phone, Betty only nodded saying “I get it…this school definitely sucks some times.” Reader snorted, sarcasm laced her voice “Puff that’s the fucking understatement of the century…” she pushed her phone back into her pocket. Betty only gave a small half smile before walking off to go see Archie.

For a good few minutes she just watched them. The two teens where talking about something and then Veronica joined them. She raised a brow as she glanced over at Cheryl who looked to be glaring at the other teens. It was funny to see the “Queen of the school” not be invited to their little party. Even if that party was three other people talking without her. Stuck up bitch. A smirk passed her lips for just a split moment.

Suddenly the door of the school entrance opened with a huge bang.

Some kids that were still in the hallway scattered at the mere sound, some from the sight of who walked through those big doors. The braver students stayed in their place, a hand full, mostly the jocks. They slowly started to creep up from the back of the hallways. Slowly inching closer and closer. Inching in towards new pray, or more like an even foe.

The southsiders were making their way into the northsiders territory and threatening their sickly little teen livelihoods. The big dogs were about to get pounced on by a whole bunch of serpents.

A whole herd of students walked through the doors, stomping up to the small group of teens. Reader was reluctant to join them, not because she was afraid of them or like most of the other kids still sticking around wanting to harass them. She just didn’t want to act like she was alongside any of these people.

She was quick to notice that one of the leaders was actually Jughead, which was a little shocking but not by much. Jughead was just as much of an outcast really as she was, maybe a little more popular seeing as he was Archie’s best friend.

The look on his face was insanely similar, mostly because it mirrored hers. The look of both boredom and disgust crossed his face quickly. As soon as he stepped close to Cheryl it seemed to double by ten folds. Out of nowhere, Reggie made his appearance from one of the hallways, a few cheerleaders and half of the team of jocks followed close by. He stepped up and stood behind Cheryl who only smirked at Jughead.

“Listen how about you and your little “serpents” go find another school to destroy. We don’t need your low IQ’s muddying up our school. We can only expect our test scores to start dropping dramatically in the next few weeks because of you and your little trailer trash bunch.” Reggie bowed up “Yeah and your little junkie friends. Bet we will start finding needs all over the hallways and burnt spoon in the trash cans.” Some of the jocks and cheerleaders laughed. Cheryl only smirked, her cherry-red lips only seemed to grow at the words.

Two of the kids behind JugHead almost growled at them, bowing up but then being held back by Jughead.

One was a girl, slight brown skin with long dyed pinkish purple hair with a serpent jacket on. It also my swamped her shoulders in the thick leather material. Her face was twisted up in a nasty scowl as Jug held her back.

The other person was a tall boy with black hair and a good-sized snake tattoo on his neck. Reader couldn’t help but look him over in curiosity. The tattoo stuck out to her as she scanned him over, the bob of his throat, the glimmer in his eye of pure hate. It was…interesting. She was glad that she stood off to the side. Maybe no one would notice her gawking at the bean stock of a boy- slash that, man.

Reader almost jumped a little when the boy broke free of Jugs arm. He marched up to Cheryl and Reggie and basically growled right in their face. Jughead was quick to grab him by the back of the jacket along with the help of the girl. Both of them use a good amount of strength to pull him back. It wasn’t easy as he fought back against their attempts to reel him back in. His height and weight alone kept him from even flinching at their pulls.

Lucky he seemed to calm only by a little and stepped back. He bared his teeth at them, almost in mocking and anger.

This did nothing to phase Cheryl and only made Reggie more riled up. One of his eyes twitched and a vain popped from under his collar. He stares all of the southside kids down, trying his best to some how intimidate them. Believing that somehow it was going to do something to them.

It failed miserably as the other southside kids held their ground.

“Love how I’m gone only a little while and I come back to this, the same loving treatment as before. Great job keeping your mutts in line Cheryl.” Jughead mocked with crossed arms. His gaze shifted from her to Archie for a moment. A look of displeasure corsages his face. Maybe even a hint of sadness threatened to form. But it was quickly gone within moments of appearing. Archie gave a small smile back hoping to show his feelings on the situation. Jughead seemed to take it with a grain of salt.

“Can we just stop fighting for once. We have to share our school and it’s only fair that we at least try and be civilized.” Veronica said getting between the two groups. She put both hands out to stop the two groups from getting any closer to each other. There was a small table a few steps over, she walked over to it and grabbed a few papers.

Looking them over before holding them up, she looked back toward the serpents. She cleared her throat saying “Over here you will find your class schedules, locker assignments, and a map of the school. We will also be assigning small groups of new students with some of our volunteer students. They will help you with any questions you may have about the school, show you around, and also help you figure out any resources you may need.”

There was some mumbling among the group.

Betty and Archie walked over to the table and grabbed some of the papers. Betty read over a few things on one of the pages. The other girl shoved a new paper into her hand making her roll her eyes. She looked it over and raised a brow.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yep, it’s right there. Start grouping up after they all get their schedules.”

Suddenly Veronica’s gaze shifted over to Reader. She cocked her head to the side and just stared at her. Reader felt herself clam up a little.

This was definitely not going to be a day to go down into the good history of the school.

It was going to be a literal blood stain by the looks of it.

(Will be continued, will be cross-posting to AO3!)

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 1

Propaganda under the cut:

Roman/Shiv:

Extremely close and surprisingly caring with each other despite being terrible people, they joke about being happy they're not conjoined twins - which built the theory they might be twins, and also joke the sister (Shiv) might be pregnant with the brother's (Roman's) baby

They had a physical fight which left them on the floor (they're both in their thirties)and the scene's script described as such an intimate moment it was almost like they were caught fucking

Fr Rome is already fucked up on his own, and incest is a huge theme in Succession and I just love the way they love

Their expression of love for each other are undoubted even as the show makes it clear their family of terrible people only looks out for themselves.

Hiram/Veronica:

The show has many interesting incestuous possibilities, but Veronica/Hiram is perhaps the closest to canon along with Cheryl/Jason. The intimacy between Veronica and Hiram striking; their power games have a distinct sexual element. It's a sad relationship, but fascinating

The whole show is just a constant power struggle between the two. All of Veronicas actions and desires revolve around defying her father. Meanwhile all of his actions revolve around pleasing her but only the ideal her he imagines, daddys little girl.

Mob father and mob daughters/heir made in his image, she keeps calling him Daddy constantly

She sings "Daddy Lessons" while her father boxes against her boyfriend in a competition for her love. He hates her boyfriend because he's so possessive over her including giving her a literal pearl necklace to show ownership. The sexual tension between them is insane

[rose-of-oz]

𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗟 𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘𝗦

Given the recent sort-of resurgence of Marvel OCs in this community, I found my own inspiration revived and decided to make some myself! I actually will very likely be properly introducing all of these (as well as elaborating on my MCU rewrite that actually includes mutants and more comic-accurate stuff, which they all exist in), but for now you can still feel free to ask me questions about any of them!!

Cheryl “Cherry” Marsden a.k.a. Cherry Bomb, she/her, no ship, Margot Robbie FC. A mutant with the power to manipulate energy and use it to create small, brightly-coloured bombs. Surrendered to the Xavier Institute when she was only eleven after showcasing her powers because her parents hated mutants, but ran away at sixteen and started grifting for a “living” because she was too chaotic and pretty much everybody in the mansion hated her. Eventually became a vigilante in Brooklyn, using her powers to take down criminals and corrupt rich people, before she’s approached by the Avengers (completely Tony’s idea, is anyone surprised) because there was a chance she could help them out as a part of the team. Promptly becomes the chaotic aro-ace rep the Avengers needed, inserting herself into their little found family and causing mischief all the while. Incredibly wild and chaotic and takes very little seriously, but incredibly loyal, a good fighter, and a lot smarter than most people assume. Basically she’s just here to save the world and have a good time doing it, and we love that for her.

Raina Lombardi, she/her, Natasha Romanoff (recasted as Jessica Chastain) ship, Monica Barbaro FC. A legacy S.H.I.E.L.D. employee (her great-grandfather was a scientist in the SSR and at least one member of her family has held a job in S.H.I.E.L.D. ever since), but never wanted to become an agent like both of her parents, so she chose to become a combat trainer at the Academy and teach new field agent recruits instead. Has admired Natasha from afar for years, but actually gets to know her after Fury finally convinces her to guest-teach a hand-to-hand lesson at the Academy and they start talking. Never actually goes out on any missions, but does interact with Coulson’s team on occasion and is a big fighter when it’s revealed that HYDRA’s invaded S.H.I.E.L.D. Generally a very serious person who’s incredibly loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. and dedicated to her job (doesn’t really know what to do with herself after the agency collapses, but eventually becomes an MMA instructor), but also has an unexpected wry sense of humour and, despite her slightly intimidating facade, can be very warm and friendly. (Also a big fat lesbian who goes a little bit speechless whenever Natasha does something cool even after they start dating, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Henry Archibald a.k.a. Foresight, he/him, Sharon Carter ship, Tom Payne FC. A mutant with the power of precognition who only gets his visions in dreams, and thus suffers from fairly bad insomnia because they so often scare him and he wants to avoid them. Approached by S.H.I.E.L.D. because Fury thinks his powers might be useful, and Sharon is placed in charge of sort of keeping an eye on him the way she was with Steve, to make sure he doesn’t completely break down. Very reluctant to get close to anyone because he has a tendency to get horrible visions about those he cares about, but he can’t stop himself and eventually they become a really cute couple. Incredibly anxious, quiet, and closed-off due to his powers, but also has a very good heart and would do anything for the people he cares about. Also becomes really good friends with Maria Hill, Bobbi Morse, and most of Coulson’s team, especially Fitzsimmons and Skye.

Apollo Huang, he/they, Bucky Barnes ship, Harry Shum Jr. FC. A sorcerer (a born one, different from a mutant or witch) who moved to Budapest a few years before Bucky runs there after his magic almost gets found out back home in New York, and Bucky finds himself drawn to their stall of luck charms (that don’t actually work), while he finds themself drawn to him because he can sense the pain and dark energy from the past swirling around him. Over the year that Bucky’s hiding out, they find themselves spending more and more time together and falling in love, enough so that Apollo is even willing to reveal their magic and use it to help Steve prove that Bucky didn’t bomb the Sokovia Accords signing (he also almost uses it to kill Zemo later, but that’s a different thing). Playful and humorous, but also gentle and loving and would not hesitate to do anything at all for Bucky or anyone else they care about. Also an incredibly powerful sorcerer and not at all afraid to show off his magic to anyone who will watch.

Sabrina Devereaux a.k.a. Snowbird, she/her, Steve Rogers (recasted as Glen Powell) ship, Minka Kelly FC. A mutant with the ability to create and manipulate ice, snow, and frost, who was sold to a mutant trafficking ring by her parents when she was only thirteen and forced to fight other young mutants for entertainment. Finally ran away and lived on the streets until she was discovered by Clint a few years after he found Natasha and she begged to be brought to S.H.I.E.L.D. and made into an agent once she realized who he worked for, because she wanted to help people the way she and her fellow trafficked youth hadn’t been helped. Created her own suit and codename as an homage to the bird-themed name of the man who’d saved her, and becomes one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best agents. Brought into the Avengers on Clint and Natasha’s suggestion shortly after the Battle of New York, and quickly becomes close to everyone on the team, as well as falling in love with America’s golden boy. Can be quiet and closed-off because of her past, but also has a lot of inner strength and is incredibly bold and not afraid to speak up for what she believes. Becomes really good friends with Thor and Bruce, and also a very sweet bisexual who has a big crush on Natasha for, like, a solid week after meeting her.

Harald Aamirson, he/him, Loki Laufeyson ship, Dev Patel FC. A knight in Asgard’s Royal Guard who’s been pining for the younger prince from afar since they were both young, hating the way Odin treated him and favoured Thor over him. When he gets assigned as Loki’s new personal guard, they finally start getting to know each other and connecting and even share a kiss, only for it to be revealed that Loki was planning to banish his brother and kill Odin. Thus begins the most complicated on-and-off relationship in all the Nine Realms, but throughout it all there is genuine love and heartbreak and so much care between them. Harald is incredibly dedicated and loyal, the perfect guard, but also a little bit feral (he’s in love with Loki, how could he not be), and isn’t afraid to bend the rules for the sake of the people he cares about. Eventually becomes one of Thor’s most trusted companions, which is definitely funny when you consider how much he used to resent him (they’re cool now, though).

Caroline “Carrie” Flores, she/her, Wanda Maximoff (recasted as Gratiela Brancusi) ship, Melissa Barrera FC. The daughter of one of the HYRDA scientists who had moved to Sokovia to perform human experiments, and although she was never allowed to interact with the subjects, never forgot Wanda and Pietro and the obvious aptitude they showed for abilities before the scientists ever got their hands on them. Due to her rage at her father and the atrocities he committed, became an assassin who hunted down the former HYDRA employees who had gotten away from the Avengers, all the while trying to figure out the secrets of the twins’ powers. Once she’s finally figured out their true parentage and the fact that Wanda is an Omega-level mutant, she finally approaches the Avengers, and through spending time with Wanda, who actually remembers her as well, they eventually fall in love! Carrie has a lot of rage and trauma due to her father’s abuse and the things she did over the years, but she has a lot of love in her heart and desperately craves to be loved the way Wanda loves her. Also, like, Probably Too Comfortable with being covered in blood, but luckily for her Wanda’s kind of into that.

Raymond “Ray” Nakamura a.k.a. Menagerie, he/him, Peter Parker ship, Ryan Potter FC. A mutant with the power to transform into any animal he wishes, who plays off the green hair that comes with his mutation and mostly just tries to fly under the radar, but eventually gets inspired by Spider-Man and decides to take to the streets as his own kind of vigilante named Menagerie - only to accidentally run into a maskless Spider-Man one night and discover that the insect-themed vigilante is actually the awkward guy who sits beside him in English. Ray decides to reveal himself to Peter as well and becomes a Friend of Spider-Man, and eventually they also fall in love and become a really cute superhero couple. Very sarcastic and blunt, but with a heart of gold, and incredibly brave and always ready to fight for what’s right and for the people he cares about. Also becomes besties with MJ, and they have fun judging people together.

Callisto, they/she pronouns, Peter Quill (recasted as Jensen Ackles) ship, Felicity Jones FC. A half-human, half-Asgardian hybrid who grew up with their Terran mother on Xander, until she was killed by a small Kree militia group during an attack and Callisto was taken to become a Kree battle slave at the age of eleven. Ran across Yondu’s band of Ravagers during a Kree mission, and Yondu, being reminded of his own past, decided to take her in, so she grew up with Peter until he left to strike out on his own and Callisto stayed with the Ravagers, and actually started to resent him for what they saw as him leaving her behind. When Peter steals the Orb, Yondu decides it would be best to send Callisto after him since they already have a grudge against him but will still bring him back alive - of course, she doesn’t expect Rocket, Groot, and Gamora to also be there and winds up shipped to the Kyln with the rest of them, and over the course of the group’s adventures actually starts to want to punch Peter less and less. An incredibly good fighter who’s amazing with almost any weapon, and the best sharpshooter in Yondu’s Ravager band. Very fierce and intense and, on the surface, a lot like Gamora, but actually has a chaotic streak much like Peter’s that they’ve tried to tamp down, and at the end of the day just wants to be loved and not left alone like she was before. Actually becomes really good friends with Rocket, and eventually the whole team comes to dead the shenanigans they get up to when left alone together.

Tagging the Marvel moots: @dancingsunflowers-ocs,

@ginevrastilinski-ocs, @xoteajays, @gabbysdawsons,

@stelstellakidd, @come-along-pond, @juliaswickcrs,

@asirensrage, @themaradwrites,

@goldheartedchaoticdisaster.

[nerds4life]

Blog rules still apply so someone got a block just now, but I’ve now had a few anons (still with the anons as grown ups..) about whether I was wrong about the beards and the PR fakelationships, so I’m going to address this ONCE and only once.

I believe 1D had beards. People having beards doesn’t mean they need to hate the beard, especially when you mature and realize that any relationship with another person is complex, and you did go through something unique together. So Danielle and Cheryl indicating they care about Liam doesn’t mean they didn’t exploit the partnerships to their own benefit, or that there was respect and even love there.

Also, when death happens, people change their tune. Just look at all the people in this fandom who shat on Liam (I have receipts) who now are claiming he was amazing and are even leading fundraisers and organizing memorials for him. It could be maturity, or it could be the collective grief and need to do something.

I believe that Ziam and Larry were real relationships. Could I be wrong, of course. I was not with those boys 24/7 through the years (nor was anyone in this fandom. We were just interpreting things we saw). And none of us know their sexual identities. I’ve said this for years that we were all guessing.

These boys were thrown into 1D as kids, and had to navigate becoming men and romance with those around them. They had a unique love for each other, and anyone blessed to have close friendships know that lines can be crossed and those can be the strongest relationships when romantic. But they can also be intense when feelings change. And I do think both relationships have ended. Larry long ago, and Ziam after that. That’s life, and life is complicated.

Again, these boys are normal people who had an extraordinary experience together; one where they were scrutinized and only each other could understand.

I’ve said before that anyone can have a kid, and I think that Freddie and Bear and Kai are real. In this day and age, you need a woman to carry a baby, after contributing the egg. This can happen naturally, via a one-night stand or a relationship, or in vitro. I wasn’t there so I don’t know but I always found hating on the innocent children very wrong, and hated when the Larries said inhumane things about poor Freddie, who did indeed look like Louis to me.

So could I be wrong on all counts, yes. I always said anyone in the fandom who claims to know what the truth is about the boys is an absolute liar.

There was an absolute fond between these boys, and the secret touches of their hands is NOT a platonic move. It’s one of comfort; a tender moment between two people who care about each other. It was just caught on camera, but it wasn’t meant for us to see it.

[seungkwansphd]

mouse in the walls

pairing: law student!jeonghan x law student!YN word count: 841 synopsis: you and jeonghan don't get along, so it's highly suspicious when he offers you a place to sleep when you're sexiled at an away mock trial competition. you take him up on it, though, because your next best idea is to sleep in a stairwell. themes: part of 'room for interpretation' series, prequel/flashback, sfw, college rivals, tentative friends, two big IDIOTS who don't realize anything about themselves.

a/n: ok i know i said i was working on a sequel, BUT i slipped and fell into a prequel moment for these two. sequel has been bullet pointed and still coming istg.

You stared at the door of your hotel room in dismay. True to her words, Cheryl had found someone to hook up with and you had been sexiled. You wracked your brain for ideas. On the one hand, you had no desire to go into that room, nor did you want to snitch. On the other hand, were you prepared to sleep on the ground? No, that didn’t make sense, but you truly didn’t know what to do. You were deep in thought when someone walked by you and did a double take.

“What are you doing out here?”

Jeonghan.

“It’s none of your business,” you flashed an irritated look at him.

“Who’s your roommate again?”

“Cheryl,” you answered as you contemplated sleeping near the ice machine, like Michael in The Office.

“Oh…oh,” Jeonghan reacted as he recalled seeing Cheryl aggressively pursuing one of the students from another school. “You become homeless?”

“Correct,” you made a face at him. “Hey! Give me the spare blanket and pillow from your room and I’ll sleep in the stairwell.”

“Are you stupid?” he blinked at you incredulously, “Come with me. You can sleep on the pullout couch in my room.”

“No!” you shook your head, balking at the idea of sharing a room with Jeonghan.

“Oh grow up, it’s not even the same bed. We might not get along, but I’m not going to let you sleep in the goddamn stairwells, like a mouse living in the walls,” he insisted, grabbing you by the wrist and tugging you towards his room down the hall.

You glared at him as you followed him, but by the time you actually made it to his room, you had accepted that the stairwell idea wasn’t one of your best. Jeonghan was right, you were both adults. You could share a room without it being weird.

“Here, change into these. I’ll get the pull out couch set up,” he threw a bundle of fabric at you. He was so damn bossy.

You shut and locked the bathroom door behind you. You considered the pieces of clothing as you changed. The shirt was one from orientation. You actually had the same one in your luggage. The bottoms were a pair of loose shorts. You considered the situation at large and concluded that it was very odd, but you weren’t going to fight it too much. Sleeping on the couch was better than being sexiled.

“So bad news,” Jeonghan started when he heard the bathroom door open. The rest of his sentence caught in his throat when he saw you, dressed in his clothes. It was stupid because he had been the one who’d given them to you, but it still caught him off guard.

“Bad news?” you asked, placing your own clothes in a pile on the coffee table.

“Uh, yeah,” Jeonghan shook his head, “It’s not actually a pull out couch,” he gestured to his evidence: the couch with the cushions pulled out of it.

“That’s okay,” you shrugged, grabbing the cushions to return them to their places. “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. As much as I hate to admit it, you are right that this is better than sleeping in the stairwell. Like a mouse,” you cracked a smile.

Jeonghan found himself smiling with you. Because he got a lot of joy when you admitted he was right and definitely not because your smile was infectious.

“Okay, I’m setting my alarm for pretty early. Going to have to go back to my room to get changed and stuff before breakfast.”

“Sure,” Jeonghan nodded.

Jeonghan listened to your light shuffling as you got settled in to sleep. He heard a few punches to your pillow to make it the right shape, but before long your soft snores indicated that you were out. He was a little surprised at the speed with which you’d been able to fall asleep. He was a person who tended to stare into the void for quite a while before he could drift off, but something about your rhythmic breathing helped push him into dreamland much faster than normal.

…

“Where did you end up sleeping last night?” Cheryl asked you at breakfast.

“One of my friends let me sleep on their couch,” you answered shortly. You and Cheryl weren’t really close, so you knew she wouldn’t dig too deep.

“Who? You don’t have any friends!” she commented, but quickly moved onto a different subject.

You rolled your eyes before stuffing more hotel waffle into your mouth. You loved Mock Trial, but you were ready for the weekend to be over.

Jeonghan hid a bemused smile behind his coffee cup as he eavesdropped on your conversation. He was half convinced that Cheryl had only come on the Mock Trial trip to have casual sex, but that wasn’t why he was smiling. Something about the absurdity of hearing you refer to him as a friend really made him laugh. As if you could pass as anything more than classmates!

[anotherbluesunday]

✨Teaser: In Technicolor✨

So some of you may know this, but my next fic that was set to release was originally called “Ballad of a Teenage Dream” and was a Wednesday x Skam crossover that showcased all the highs and lows of high school and the growing pains that come with the transition from teenager to young adult.

Well that story has been reworked, overhauled, and given new life.

I present to you my high school dramady, In Technicolor.

Set in Los Angeles, California, the story follows two groups of friends as their worlds collide. A modern spin on the social dynamics of Romeo and Juliet where two factions are warring but cannot remember why or why their bitter rivalry is so important to their identity, In Technicolor highlights the feuding of the wealthy and the everyday citizens to show the consequences that come from stripping culture and history from the city streets in the name of gentrification. It explores the complex relationships of families on either side of the fence to reveal that wealth does not always bring happiness. And finally, at the center of it all, the complicated friendships and relationships of the members of these two groups as they meld into one.

For our East LA champions, we follow the Addams siblings and their mismatched group of skateboarders, graffiti artists, musicians, and street racers.

For our Palisades elite, we focus on the Blossoms and Galpin’s—two families from extreme wealth that are not entirely honest about what they show the world.

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Important Story Information: If the visuals were not enough to give it away, this story will be a crossover with a different fandom. Entering the mix is the ensemble from Riverdale. I do want to caution readers now, there will be crossover pairings, character retcon on both sides, ageing up, ageing down, and changes to character personalities.

One such example is that Wednesday isn’t allergic to color and isn’t entirely unapproachable. She smiles and laughs but only when around those she trusts like her family and friends. Pugsley has been aged up and is Wednesday’s twin brother. My face claim for this version of Pugsley is Xolo Mariduẽna and I have made Pugsley (who also will be going by “Lee”) more confident and hotheaded with some snark and sass. Second to that, my face claim for Pubert “Bertie” Addams is Malachi Barton and Pubert/Bertie will be one year younger than his siblings—the twins Wednesday and Pugsley age 17 and in their senior year and Bertie age 16 entering his junior year.

On the Riverdale side of the crossover, I have made certain changes that I don’t want to reveal just yet for Archie’s character. That surprise will come soon enough because next I will be posting moodboards for specific couples that will be at the center of this story. But one change I will discuss now to get it out there to avoid hate comments and harassment is the issue of is Cheryl bi or is she a lesbian. In my story, she’s bi and will be paired with a male lead. I understand that the actress for her character went back and forth on Cheryl’s orientation but, to me, Cheryl reads like a chaotic bisexual that goes back and forth on her identity because being bi is confusing enough. And as someone who is bi, I would like to see more representation and fiction for people like myself because fandoms are so quick to erase bisexuality and pansexuality and criticize us when we speak up about it. So in this story, Cheryl is bi and she has broken up with her most recent girlfriend before meeting her next partner who is a man. And it’s fine.

If this upsets you, just swipe off of this post. Don’t leave mean comments or take digs at me because I’m not for any of this fandom infighting nonsense. It’s fiction and these characters can be whatever you want them to be in your stories.

However, if you don’t mind Cheryl liking both men and women, you don’t have an opinion either way, or your curious to see how this’ll pan out, stay tuned. I’d love to share this story with you. All are welcome so long as things stay civil and breezy.

So with that, I look forward to updating with the couple’s board and then the first chapter titlecard along with the chapter itself. Until then, stay lovely and stay groovy.💜

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Bunch of New OCs

Descendants

Calen (x Ben) & Morrigan (x Jane) in Control – the children of Chernabog, very powerful magic users who grew up on the isle. Not a part of any crew, preferred to just stick together, but Calen has a history with both Harry and Jay, and Morrigan has a history with Evie. TBD if they're invited to Auradon or if they just invite themselves, here to cause chaos

Chernabog takes a technically female presenting body when trapped by the isle magic and is Aubrey Plaza probably but also maybe Kathryn Hahn idk?

Glee

Lucinda (Patti Lupone) & Vanessa (Kathryn Hahn) Hope in The Art Of Making Art – Danny's mothers, details in Danny's intro

(ft. introduced Nadia & Pip, Danny's therapist and boyfriend respectively)

Heartstopper

Isabella Belly Spring in Personal Best – Charlie's twin sister, probably has BPD because i can't write any mentally stable ocs rn, autistic queen, bit of a loner at Higgs but she and Elle have always been close so when she transfers, baby girl gets pulled into the friend squad with Darcy & Tara, Ben's ex girlfriend (while he was also with Charlie, dumped him when she found out about that) and current president of the Ben Hate Squad

Juniper Catalina Solano in A Place In This World – Nick’s best friend, moved away when they were 13 (basically just before his kiss with Tara and before he became friends with Imogen), they stayed in touch and are still very very close

Details iffy but her parents die early in season 1 and it was in their will that if anything happened to them, they wanted their daughter to live with Sarah Nelson (they got along well and trusted her, she wasn’t their very best friend but they knew it was the best choice for their daughter), so she’s just moved back

Marvel (Agatha All Along)

Naomi Kaplan in Darkest Hour, Wake Thy Power – William Kaplan's twin sister, not a Maximoff but born with magic (tbd what kind of witch she is but loves crystals and tarot readings even before knowing she's a witch), can immediately tell that something is Not Right with her brother after the accident (maybe also died/almost died in the accident and that's when her magic kicks in? tbd), the only one who knows the full truth of who he is, invites herself along when Billy goes to find Agatha

Renna Vidal / Renna Vidal-Harkness in Earthly And Divine – Rio & Agatha's magically created witch daughter, Nicky's older sister. Withdrew from both of her parents after Nicky died and might never have reconnected with them if she hadn't somehow gotten herself swept up in Billy Kaplan's plan to walk the Witches' Road

Elizabeth Zella Maximoff in Maiden, Mother, Crone – Billy & Tommy's triplet, ends up in a slightly older body after the Hex breaks down, finds Billy completely by chance and now will not rest until they get Tommy back too

bonus: Kassandra's AAA title is Glory At The End & Cheryl's is Sewn With Fate

RWRB

Christian Douglas Charles William Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor in History Has Its Eyes On You – Youngest prince, 18/19 when everything starts, gay and closeted, adores Henry more than anything in the world

dating Emilia Harper Claremont-Diaz, who knows that he's gay and is okay with being his public beard and forever best friend, but Mary is starting to put more and more pressure on him to propose

Emilia Harper Claremont Diaz in History Has Its Eyes On You– baby of the Claremont-Diaz family, she is in her first or second year at GWU in RWRB. Was a total daddy's girl growing up and never outgrew the pain of Oscar leaving. Majoring in International Relations because she feels like she has to and minoring in art history because she loves it, undiagnosed ADHD like her brother. Often referred to as the People's Princess in the US and as the American Princess internationally, loves Texas with all her heart, Secret Service codename is Buttercup which she chose because of her favourite Powerpuff Girl

Fashion icon (not as much as June though), idolizes her big sister forever, social media star, loves art and art history and museums and creating art, often feels like she might not be smart enough to make her family proud, happily fake dating her best friend Christian Fox

named after Harper Lee and Emilia Casanova de Villaverde, probably goes by her middle name (except with Oscar's family) but tbd

Titans

Morvan Abbott (x Jason Todd) in Abyss – Rowena Abbott's younger, lowkey the reason she was in jail (specifically, she killed their step father while protecting Morvan from him). After Rowena's arrest he ran away, found himself taken in by a woman with powers somewhat similar to his own and a vested interest in not letting Trigon destroy the world. After Rowena ends up with Dick and Rachel, they encounter this woman on their search for answers, and Rowena finally sees her baby brother again

ty everyone @the-witching-ash @ocmerunaway @ginevrastilinski-ocs @cecexwrites @manyfandomocs for listening to me not shut up about these ideas for sooooooo long i appreciate y'all also the ouat squad is still coming but i might die before i figure that shit out so also maybe not idk they're turning in my brain like a rotisserie chicken

edit: also still need to do the teen wolf coven but that's a future problem