#everyone thinks is out of her league and will never choose her

[alpacacare-archive]

day twoe ah haha

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Two

This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!

Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.

Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)

----

Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?

You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.

The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.

Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."

"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"

Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.

Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.

Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."

After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."

And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.

Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"

Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.

He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.

He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.

"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"

"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."

Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.

"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."

----

The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.

She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."

"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.

"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."

With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."

The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.

Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.

He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.

When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"

"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.

"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."

With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.

Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.

His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.

Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.

A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:

"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone

Guy: Fuck off, Munson

Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"

Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.

When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.

"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."

Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.

In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.

And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.

So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.

And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.

Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.

It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.

He's hopeless.

He's desperate.

He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.

----

For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.

So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.

As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.

"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.

Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.

"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.

"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."

Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.

Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?

Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."

Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.

It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.

"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.

And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.

Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."

There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.

Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"

Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.

Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?

Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.

----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

Please follow the tag "good vibrations Steddie" or put on notifications for my blog to see when new parts are posted :D)

@hallucinatedjosten, @queenie-ofthe-void, @r0binscript, @jewellthebooknerd, @paintgonewrong, @vacantwatchers, @newagemyth, @gutterflower77, @just-a-tiny-void, @littlebluejane

@whenindoubtb72, @different-tale-student, @sharingisntkaren, @current-steddie-brainrot, @willim-billiam-byerson, @nuggies4life

@lostgurl-12, @anomalygal, @synonym-for-strange, @sani-86, @missmagillicuddy, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @harringrieve, @awesomeimportantfan, @fredtheemoplant, @warlordess, @therealscarletpumpernickel, @gsvshsjsbs, @mightbeasleep, @mollymawkwrites

@lil-gremlin-things, @honorarybrit81, @sonny-ray-of-goth, @potent-idiocy, @fandomcartographer, @heartsong18, @lingeringmirth, @ko0kyco0kies, @ccomandercody, @spiderman-stilinski, @l0st-strawberry, @xxsky-shockxx, @stilesstickitinme, @boxsam, @thepansexualsnake, @37-screamingfrogs, @yourmom-isgay, @brainsteddielyrotted, @plasticcrotches, @hannahhook7744

[maxsimagination]

Lucy bronze smut. Reader gives Lucy lapdance. Dom Lucy

𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 - 𝙡.𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙯𝙚

summary: drunk celebrations, a secret situationship is almost outed during a game of truth or dare.

-> !! dom & sub dynamic, oral sex !!

𖦹 masterlist

“𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗦, 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗦, 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗦!”

a half drunk mapi yelled from her position on the couch with ingrid.

barely three hours ago, barcelona femeni had won the champions league for the second time in a row. the girls were all in various places throughout the rented hotel, but the majority were all gathered in the living space.

alexia walked over with a bottle of tequila and a couple of shot glasses, placing them down along with a box. it was a small rectangle shape, looked like a card game.

she opened it up and pulled out a deck of cards, separating them into two piles on the coffee table.

“truth or dare, chicas. if you can’t answer or don’t want to do it, you take a shot.”

it sounded fun and clearly everyone was on board with the idea so we got started. mapi was eager to go first and no one was arguing so she reached for a card.

“mapi you have to ask someone truth or dare first.”

ingrid corrected her tipsy girlfriend. mapi stopped in her tracks, paused then muttered.

“oh right.

um, ona, truth or dare.”

the young defender was sitting, perched on the corner of a different couch. she was almost completely sober, unlike most players in the hotel.

“truth, maría.”

she knowingly grinned at mapi, a drunk mapi choosing a silly dare for you was like signing your soul away.

while mapi grumbled about ona being ‘no fun’, i watched on. it took a whole round before lucy looked directly at me and asked me,

“truth or dare, yn?”

she had a devilish look in her eyes, one that i knew all too well. while neither of us were dating anyone, we’d always had a thing for flirting with each other. that light flirting had quickly turned into a full-blown situationship.

none of the team knew, they suspected but we just brushed it off.

“dare, lucía.”

“give someone a lap dance.”

lucy didn’t miss a beat with her request, which she paired with a competitive expression. she was daring me to give her a lap dance or take a shot.

however, i was never one to back down from a challenge, so i stood up and promptly walked over to lucy. clearly she wasn’t expecting me to actually follow through, so she was slightly surprised by my movements.

i was well aware of the teams’ eyes on me, but my need to prove to lucy that i could do it outweighed the fear of being judged.

i started out slow, placing a hand on her shoulder, then grazing my fingertips along her collarbone.

i could see the tension that lucy’s body had taken on when i started touching her. she looked like a statue, frozen in time. like she was too scared to move. but i continued, eventually grinding myself down on her thigh. it was a struggle for me not to groan out like i would if it were just me and her.

i leaned in near the end and whispered in her ear,

“happy i took that dare, lucía?”

before i gracefully slid off of her and resumed my position on a corner of one of the couches. it was only then that i noticed the whole team staring at me and lucy, their eyes bouncing between the two of us.

i suddenly felt really small, and shrunk back down into a ball, just curled in the corner.

“yn, your turn to ask someone.”

alexia’s voice broke through my thoughts, she smiled gently at me when i looked up. i probably looked like a deer in the headlights, or at least i felt like it.

“um, mapi. truth or dare?”

mapi took a bit to answer, ingrid having to help her, but she eventually got there.

“dare.”

“prank call someone.”

i’d never been good with thinking of fun dares, so i just said the first thing that i could think of, hoping it was okay.

in hindsight, asking a drunk mapi to prank call someone probably wasn’t the best thing to do. that would explain why ingrid convinced her to take a shot instead.

it was getting late then, so most of the girls had retired to their rooms. i slipped away from them all and went to the kitchen to grab a drink.

“what was that little party trick before, huh?”

i whipped around to find a slightly pissed off lucy. her eyes had gone darker, she looked ready to throw me over her shoulder and march me to the bedroom.

“i was just doing the dare.”

my voice was small, quiet, very unlike me.

“oh yea? what if i dared you to go lie on my bed, naked?”

my mouth went dry as soon as the words left her mouth. she was inching closer as we spoke, and i could feel the wetness pooling in between my legs.

“i’d say yes.”

a grin that could only be described as devilish grew on lucy’s face, and she whispered is my ear.

“meet you in my room in five.”

she left first, leaving me alone in the kitchen. i put my glass down, suddenly not needing the water anymore. quickly and quietly i made my way to lucy’s room, trying not to cause any noises.

the door was ajar when i got there and i slipped in silently.

lucy was standing by her closet, just hanging something up, when i walked in.

“you remember the traffic lights?.”

“sí.”

“you know what to do.”

she spared me little energy, going to shut the door behind me, even going as far as to lock it. i slipped my hoodie and sweats off, leaving me in just my bra and underwear.

i unclipped my bra and let that fall to the floor, leaving my underwear on until i’d climbed onto the bed.

lucy was watching my every move, waiting until i’d finished until she came over.

“underwear off, legs spread.”

i followed her instructions, baring my pussy to the cold air. i could feel the arousal between my legs, i needed some sort of friction.

lucy had knelt down, hands clasped around my thighs.

“you make one sound, and you are not cumming tonight, sí?”

i nodded down at her.

“colour?”

“green.”

she took that as her sign to go ahead, head dipping down and tongue licking up my arousal. not making a sound was easier said than done, the swirl of her tongue and pressure of her lips made every second a mix of pleasure and torture.

i could feel every time she moved her mouth, every time she pulled away, only to dive back in.

i had resorted to shifting my hips every so often, attempting to gain more friction. lucy’s strong hands limited how much to could move, however, they kept me in place.

“keep moving and see what happens.”

it was a simple sentence, but one that made me question whether i wanted to risk it.

i was desperate, so desperate.

“lucy, lucy please.”

i whispered to the woman between my thighs. she glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow. it was at that moment that she brought her fingers up and pushed one in.

my mouth dropped open at the intrusion, but she wasn’t giving me much time then she was pushing another in. she stopped at two, letting me adjust to the stretch and thrusting her long disgust in and out, a steady pace.

i could feel the coil tightening in my belly, the small amount of pressure that i needed a real ease for so badly.

“luce, im gonna-”

“-cum? i don’t know if you deserve to.”

“please, lucy, i’ve been good. please let me cum.”

“i don’t know, have you?”

i was nodding vigorously at this point, begging her to let me have the release i so desperately needed.

“once you cum, you won’t stop until i say so. are you sure you want to?”

“yes, please lucy. please?”

“okay, colour?”

“green, so green.”

she smirked down at me. and with a single thrust and a harsh suck of her mouth on my clit, i was tumbling over the edge of ecstasy.

lucy was true to her word, she pulled five orgasms from me that evening. safe to say i wasn’t walking for the next day.

[bigboysteveharrington]

Steve lowkey earning himself a reputation for liking guys and girls before he even realizes he does because he keeps interjecting and giving his own answer every time someone tries to ask Robin about guys

At first no one thinks anything of Steve’s interruption and answer when Nancy asks “what even is your type?” quite clearly to Robin and Steve immediately answers “I like girls that are way smarter than me” and everyone just assumes he’s interrupting to hit on Nancy and not to deflect

Then later someone insists some guy was flirting with Robin and she should go for it and Steve immediately goes “Are you kidding me? Robin’s way out of his league. Besides, I had a class with him and he mentioned his stamp collection in it like eight times. Do you really think she wants to sit around and pretend to be impressed by hundreds of stamps?” Still no one thinks much of it yet and if anything they think Steve might be jealous or might just have standards for who they should set her up with

It’s not until it becomes a habit of him answering questions meant for Robin that people start to think there’s a reason, but it’s not Robin they’re onto

Like when they’re having a movie night and Max is going on and on about a shirtless character while Lucas is totally unfazed but Dustin complains and El says which character she liked more and then Max turns to Nancy to break the tie and say which guy is dreamier and Nancy casts her vote, then turns to look over at Robin and ask which guy she’d go for and Steve knows who the question is for but hey he’s sitting right next to Robin so Nancy’s looking in his direction and too and she didn’t say Robin’s name, so Steve doesn’t even hesitate before dropping the name of a character and making sure he keeps the focus off of Robin and keeps everyone distracted from dragging her into that debate by immediately backing it up by saying that Max is right and giving even more reasons to choose him

But even after that, that’s mostly forgotten by the time the older group is drinking and Eddie suggests they play a drinking game and normally Steve would be all over any suggestions, but he turns down truth or dare because he knows how uncomfortable Robin would be and doesn’t want her having to choose between awkwardly lying and deflecting or doing dares she’s not comfortable with or potentially outing herself so he at least manages to change it to never have I ever because that’s a safer bet when he knows Robin hasn’t done anything with any girls

But then Steve ends up drinking significantly more than anyone else while Robin and Eddie are hardly drinking so they end up switching games and somehow they end up playing fuck, marry, kill except Nancy has no interest in getting married or discussing it and she says there’s been enough death in Hawkins and it would be more fun to play with the options as sleep with, kiss, slap. And the game is already started before anyone can ask why marry got changed to kiss and before drunk Steve can figure out how to discretely convince everyone not to. The game goes fine at first with Argyle asking Jonathan about three girls from California. It goes alright when Jonathan asks Eddie about three girls. Steve gets a little concerned when Eddie turns his attention on Nancy that he’ll put Jonathan and him in the list right in front of Jonathan, but Eddie is sober enough still that he at least has enough tact not stir the pot and blow things up on her first turn by throwing them both in in front of them

But then Nancy goes to give Robin a turn and she’s looking right at her and lists the three guys there other than Steve (possibly because she believes Robin on the platonic with a capital P thing and possibly because she doesn’t want to find out if that would waver) so of course Nancy thinks it’s clear that she must be talking to the only other girl there. And before Robin can even try to think of what lie would be the most convincing and least likely to start any awkwardness or drama, Steve’s already jumping in with “Well, I already hit Jonathan and that didn’t go well for me, so I’ll give him a break. And this situation” (gesturing between himself and Nancy and Jonathan) “is finally starting to feel normal so I don’t need to make that awkward all over again by sleeping with your boyfriend. So kiss Jonathan.” And Nancy and Jonathan are looking at him so confused and Robin is grateful for the interruption and relieved but also kind of amused by the level of thought he’s putting into it instead of just throwing out names however. Argyle’s not fazed at all and just waiting to see what he’ll get. Eddie goes from deer in the headlights startled to leaning forward with his elbow on his knee and his chin resting in his hand waiting to see where this will go to abruptly sitting up again and trying to look less interested while his leg nervous bounces and he tries to figure out if Steve is giving a detailed answer to this as a joke or because he’s putting genuine thought into the idea of being with a guy

Steve looks between Eddie and Argyle for a moment, then focuses on Argyle and is like “Sorry, I hardly know you and getting dragged into hitting Eddie or standing around and watching Tommy do it without making any move to stop him is exactly the kind of douchebag bullshit I would have pulled in high school. So I guess slap you and have sex with Eddie.” Eddie’s drink goes down the wrong way when Steve adds “Plus, guitar players are supposed to be good with their hands, right?” and he tries to play it off and not react to the fact that Steve Harrington just said he’d have sex with him and that he thinks Eddie would be good in bed even if it was just in the context of some stupid game. Meanwhile Argyle’s just like “Nah, that’s cool dude. I get it. I would have slapped you too if the roles were reversed.”

After that, a few people start wondering a little more seriously if Steve is into guys too and had his guard down while drinking. But Eddie isn’t going to press his luck without clear evidence and everyone else isn’t going to push it so they just silently wonder a little more every time Steve interjects in the girl talk with his own opinion once again

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: There’s not enough words to thank all of you for the love and support for the first seven parts of this story! 💜 i heart you all xoxo <<prev >>next

You didn’t care too much about graduation. Leaving the ceremony with your certificate was something you looked forward to. That’s when you felt like your real life would begin. The previous night was rough. Sam suspected a new threat, hearing a long screech. It even woke you out of your slumber with Paul grabbing your face, covering it with kisses and rushing out. In the morning, Paul was still gone. You were glad to see Kim but you weren’t too sure if the feeling was mutual. She still invited you to her graduation dinner.

It was intimate with peers that you and Kim both hung around with, who were in attendance. You still chose the seat next to her but it seemed like she talked to everyone else but you. You choose to pay it no mind. You already know majority of what she’s going through. You decide to text her.

“Are you okay?”

Her phone buzzes but she chooses to ignite up a conversation with the person next to her. You tried to rack your brain of what could be the possible reason she would not talk to you.

After another hour of lounging in her sitting room talking, one person gets up and says, “Im going to go change.” and two people stand up and walk too.

“Hm..” you say out loud. Kim looks over to you. You don’t even say anything and as you’re walking outside, disappointed and upset at the betrayal, Kim calls out to you.

“It’s not what you think.”

“You’re full of shit, Kim.”

“If I would’ve asked then we would’ve had to wait for Paul’s permission just to stay the night.” she says and you walk towards her.

“Kim. Don’t take your mood or whatever problems you have out on me. You didn’t even want to talk to me.”

“I feel like I barely see you anymore. Why can’t it be like how it used to be when we actually would have fun?”

“I’m trying my best Kim. My life is not set up for fun right now.” You try to tell her but she shakes her head as she looks at you.

“Right. Your life is set up for Paul, Y/N.”

“Whatever, Kim.” you say and turn to walk away.

“Rushing to see a boy who didn’t even show up to his imprint’s graduation.” she states.

You whip around, “You’re just jealous. You know nothing. How would you like it if I made remarks about Jared not wanting you?”

“I give up. Seriously. You’re clearly suffering from tunnel vision….You know what? I’m just going to focus on me.” she says projecting her voice. It sung. She was giving up on the friendship that you thought was strong.

“Good for you.” you tell her and choose to not look back.

You felt a type of way, feeling that what she did was unfair to you. She didn’t give you the option to make an opinion. You were going to sit at the beach since it was the perfect weather, but a small celebration seemed to be going on. You stand there for a bit, but you see a very tall cliff.

You walk your way through the woods, thick with leaves, dirt, and fallen branches. Tress began to disappear your figure from civilization. A faint whoosh makes you look up to see nothing. You look to the sides and turn around but still don’t see anything. You focus back onto route, fully convinced that it was just the wind.

A snap of a branch is heard above you. You snap your eyes to a tree above you that was in front of you. You see a person. Or something that looks very close to a person. You just remembered the pale skin, as it moved closer, you’ll never forget the dazzle in their eyes. You couldn’t help but look with your feet stuck to the earth and also wonder how they climbed so high up without you hearing a peep from them. Taking a good look at you, you noticed the amber coloring of their eyes and they take a deep sniff. They then crouch and lean forward in a fluid motion, reminding you of a lion who is after its prey.

Suddenly, you feel a force, you didn’t process yourself in the air until you fell into a pile of leaves. You raise your hands and large scrapes on your hands and inner arm making an appearance. Dirty blood trickles and it burns as you grimace. You hear snarling and growling and almost have a heart attack watching arms fly off into the air and almost scream seeing a torn off leg.

The fur, let you know that it had to be Sam and the others. You get up from your position and try to stand but your knee burns. You look down to also see another scrape. As the skin folds as you try to walk on it, a burning sensation makes you hiss. You also feel the throb on your hands and arm. A very human naked version of Paul comes into view. You couldn’t help that your eyes looked to his slinging body part in between his legs and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Two large hot hands grip your upper arms, feel all over your body, and lifts your chin. You slowly open your eyes. You suddenly smell the scent of smoke and fire, it smelled like something was cooking. You saw bluish faint flames erupt and you were in shock.

“Y/N.” he says and pulls you to him but you step back, his skin rubbing on the part that burns. He looks with a focused expression, his eyes meeting where you hurt. Without warning, he carries you back bridal style and he walks in long strides back to Emily’s house. He doesn’t let go of you when he takes you into the bathroom. Turning on the water, and shoving the door closed, he attacks your clothes first.

“Wait-“

“I have to clean you up. Plus, I want to get this vampire smell off of me.” he says as he carefully makes you bare before him.

He was gentle to bandage you and he was silent. Taking it all in as you sat watching him bandage your knee with his bedroom light shining. You just kept thinking about how enchanting the cold one looked. Besides the unnatural characteristics that it displayed, they looked like a perfect human being. You were staring off into space. You didn’t notice until you feel a nudge. You look down as Paul was on his knees with your finished bandages.

“Are you alright?” he asks. You nod, not letting him see you sweat and pull a weak smile. He’s not convinced. His eyebrows furrow.

“I’ve been calling you and you just went blank.” he explains and now it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. He gets up and sit next to you on the bed as you stare at the floor.

“What were you doing out there anyway? You never went that way before.” he asks facing you. You just shrug.

“You know.” he says, not buying it. You didn’t want to talk about it. It made everything seem too real. If you said it out loud, it wouldn’t just be a dream.

“I…I just wanted to sit at the cliffs.” you say.

“If I came one second later, you would’ve been…” he mutters, looking stressed out as he looks ahead.

You take your hand and rub his back in big slow circles. “Thankfully that didn’t happen.” you try to reassure him. You tried your best to forget that it happened.

The next day, he made sure to re clean the scrapes and also used ointment to decrease your chances of scars.

Eating lunch, you tuned out the conversation as Sam debriefs Emily on everything. You couldn’t take the looks of empathy from her. You were fine.

You couldn’t sleep. You stared awake at the ceiling and Paul was checking the perimeter with Jared before coming in for the night. You kept looking at window, afraid that a cold one might burst through it at any given second.

You sit on the floor and just decide to doodle to past the slow time, hoping it makes you tired. You didn’t notice your surrounds and didn’t notice until Paul’s voice makes you jump. You turn around to see him towering over you.

“You’re still awake?” he asks and you nod. He eyes the window, which makes you follow his eyes and it’s daylight. You’re confused until you look down at your pad and realize that you captured the visualization of your near death experience. You quickly shut it and Paul is still staring at you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You shake your head, “I just need to sleep right now.” You climb into bed and this time you don’t face him. He’s worried.

You come out later in the day to see him lounging on a loveseat in Emily’s sitting room, watching a show. The show is soon forgotten when you enter, he keeps his eyes on you as you walk closer to him. He pulls and sits you on his lap. He looks at you for a minute as you see what show he’s exactly watching. You still feel his eyes on you and this makes you chuckle a bit, “What?”

He doesn’t match your playful energy. “You know you can talk to me.”

“Yeah. I know.” you say and nod your head and squeeze his knee, letting him know you understand.

At night, you kept staring at the ceiling. No matter how late, no matter how much you did in a day, you weren’t settled. You only waited for daylight. It kind of reminded you of the times you sneakily watched scary movies as a kid.

The eyes under your bags were more and more noticeable. At breakfast, Sam ordered Paul and Jared to patrol the area as he stays back. They ask why, Sam never missed patrol. Not even for Emily.

“Just do what I say.” he says authoritatively.

It’s just you and Sam left at the table, Emily is running errands for the day.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” he asks patiently.

“Nothing?” you say, trying to sound confused. You soon realize Sam’s alpha nature.

“You haven’t been sleeping. It’s all in your face. You jump at loud noises now. You haven’t really talked about what happened at the cliffs.” he says. You just sit there. Hearing what he’s saying, “You should talk to someone so you don’t have to make yourself forget.”

“I..Don’t have anything to say about what happened.” you tell him, leaning back in your chair and pulling your lip into your mouth.

“You can ask questions. You can open up. I’m not all mean and scary.” he says to lift your spirits.

“I know,” you say as you crack a smile, “I just wish…never mind.” you shake your head.

“No, go on. What were you about to say?” he says, encouraging you on. You sigh and look down.

“Is it bad that.. I don’t think I can get used to this supernatural world.” you say honestly. You felt guilty but also relieved that you no longer have to hold it in anymore. Sam just nods in a non judging manner. You feel more comfortable to let your feelings out.

“I really like Paul a lot but I miss when things were more normal. I miss when this was just in the unknown. I want to be there for him, but I just don’t know what to do. I feel like I lost my grip on control. A grip on my life.” you say and Sam strokes his chin in thought.

“Have you talked to him about this?” he says and your heart thuds a bit. You shake your head.

“I can’t. He will take it the wrong way. I might slip up and say the wrong thing.” you say with your eye contact focusing on the hands in front of you.

“I doubt it. Just tell him how you feel.” he says. Moments of silence pass comfortably and the hustle and bustle of both Jared and Paul is heard. You look down and Paul leans down and kiss your neck. You give him a weak smile.

Sam is talking with Jared but he gives you a look. You muster up a squeeze of confidence and ask Paul to take a walk with you.

You’re automatically clutching his arm, walking side by side with him.

“Are you alright?” he asks as he looks at the sky.

You were going to say yes but you chose other words instead. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

He turns his head to look at you, “What don’t you know?”

You hesitantly answered, “I don’t think…I mean, I don’t know..” you sigh and try again, “I just miss my normal way of life, I guess.” you say.

“Me too.” he mutters.

“I don’t know if I can get used to it.” you say as the footsteps start to halt.

“It’s pretty trippy, I’ll give you that.”

“What happens if I…” you look at the trees trailing off.

“What?” Paul asks as he looks into the distance.

“So, as long as I’m an imprint or apart of the pack, cold ones will come after me?” you ask. His eyes flicker to yours, “As long as you’re human.”

“What happens if you what?” he says, not forgetting what you were about to say. His gaze is intense, intimidating you.

You wring your fingers, “Um.. spend some time away from La Push.” you say in a small voice. He flickers his eyes away, slightly shaking his head. Looking down, he clenched his fists, now stepping on an insect.

“I don’t want you to think I’m trying to leave you.” you tell him but he glared at you.

“Leaving La Push is leaving me. I’m stuck here, Y/N.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. You then choose to fold your arms and pay attention to the bird that’s on your focus.

He chuckles at bitter laugh, “Was that what you were talking with Sam about?”

“He was just checking up on me. I just..Let out how I feel. I can’t help how I feel. I think you should be more patient with that.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “You should take your own advice.”

You throw your arms up slightly, “I almost died.”

“Every time I shift, death is a possibility.” he says deadpanned.

“I can’t sleep. I’m always scared. I can’t take it anymore.” you say and you didn’t mean to crumble your face, but you let it out on your hands. Pulling your hands from your face, he lets you cry it out on his chest.

“If I could leave, believe me, I would.” he says softly as he rubs your back.

After you wipe your face with your hands and with the help of his thumbs, you both turn back to the house.

He rattles the box of chess and you join him on the bed. He sets up his pieces, with you being in charge of the white team this time. He waits for you to go first. There was silence throughout the entire game. You secretly liked the silence. It let you to just be. You didn’t know what your future entailed anymore. This moment though, you felt you had control. Moving the pieces around the board in your favor.

You were very close to winning, but Paul wasn’t letting that happen. He cackles with satisfaction as you toss a pillow at him. Thanking him for the reason of your uplifted mood.

Sam comes in and urgency needs Paul outside. They have to watch out for a predicted shifter. Billy Black’s son. You heard of him, heard of the respect that Billy Black carried and began to understand. He strips, hands you his clothes with a passionate kiss and shifts into the woods.

You sit at the table with Emily as she drinks tea.

“It’s such a shame more young boys have to face this destiny.” she says. You nod and rest your face on your hands.

”What triggers it?”

“Cold ones in the area. It activates the bloodline to protect.” She simply explains and takes a careful sip.

You choose to look out of the window.

As days and weeks pass by as they monitor the young boy, you see some sort of lightness in that time frame. You had your assignment submitted, the editor in chief called and wanted to hook you up with showcasing your art to a well known gallery. The only problem, it was out of town. You needed to think on that.

Paul let you know he gets the keys to his new place next week.

“I’m so happy for you. Do you feel good?” you say with a beaming smile.

He showcases a smile that makes your heart melt instantly and nods, “It can finally just be us.”

Kim reached out and apologized. “You’re like a sister to me. I was so out of line.”

“It’s okay. Shit is crazy right now anyways.” you say and chuckle to yourself. You invite her over.

As the boys are away from patrol, you both help Emily with dinner. Sensing Paul coming in soon, your heart speeds up a bit. Sam comes through the door and kissed Emily senseless. Paul came in and cupped your cheeks and crushed his lips on you.

Kim and Jared just sat the table looking at each other. You move to the side and also sit at the table.

“It’s nice to have you over, Kim.” Sam says as he digs into his food.

“Its nice to be here.” Kim says quietly.

Forks scraping fills in the silence. It was painfully awkward. Jared just steals glances at Kim here and there.

“I have to go out of town for a couple of days.” You announce because the silence was too much.

“What for?” Paul asks.

You explain the opportunity that was presented to you.

“I love that for you.” Kim says smiling.

“I bet you do.” Paul says to her coldly.

“Paul.” Emily says to him with seriousness.

“Whats the problem?” You ask.

“We’ll talk later.” he says and gets up to put his plate away.

“Don’t let him talk you out of it.” Kim says. Your eyes grow big at her when she makes the statement. Paul clatters the plate down in the sink loud.

“You need to mind your fucking business.” he growls out.

“Paul just chill out man.” Jared says trying his best to be a mediator.

“I don’t even know why she’s here!” he says, and looks dead at her, “We all know your own imprint does not want you.”

You face palm as gasps surround the room and Jared just looks down. Kim’s face goes blank.

“Paul, outside.” Sam orders him and follows him out.

“I’m sorry about that Kim.” You go on to say. She shakes her head, “I thought we were going somewhere. You really don’t want me?”

Jared walks to her, “It’s not that I don’t want you, Kim..I feel like you don’t open up with me. I like to have fun and make people laugh. I’m not going to lie but…how should I say this?” He trails off.

“Kim, you don’t show him your real personality.” you say to her. Jared gives you a thank you with his eyes. Kim looks down, “I’m just nervous around you, that’s all.” Jared looks at her as if he understands, “You can be yourself with me, Kim.”

Just then, Sam and Paul comes back in. Paul’s face is softened up but you know that he’s still feeling a bit bitter. Sam jerks his head in Kim’s direction.

Paul didn’t want to. He looks at her so dirty that it made you feel bad for her. “Sorry.” he mutters barely audible without looking at her and storms off into his bedroom and slams the door. Sam sighs tiredly and looks to the ceiling.

“I can take you home.” Jared says and Kim smiles excitedly at that.

“Now, what was that?” You ask Paul as you move into the room, looking at him stare at a spot on the wall.

He shakes his head and scoffs.

“What?” you say and nudge his shoulder.

He scrunched his face, “Nothing. I’m going to bed. Sam is probably going to make us get up before the sun comes up.” he then turns over to go to sleep.

You shake his shoulder slightly, “Paul come on. You’re being overdramatic and you were rude.”

“I was not. I don’t just go off on people for no reason.”

“Okay, so what’s the reason.” you ask, having a feeling it’s some lame excuse. Silence sets in for a minute as you try to stay patient.

“You won’t believe me anyway.” he says quietly.

“Paul just say it.” you say, starting to get agitated.

“If this cause chaos, just know it was you who asked for it.” he says and grabs his phone. You watch him the entire time as he scrolls for some time. Before he hands you the phone, he faces it towards his chest, and he looks at you with seriousness.

“Remember when you told me Kim’s cousin had a party in Neah Bay?”

You nod, not knowing where this is going.

He hands you the phone and you hesitantly take it, eyeing him confused. “Read it.” he says. They’re obviously screenshots.

“I’m bringing my friend. She’s into art too.”

“What does she look like ?”

*picture attachment* “Her name is Y/N.”

“Damn she’s cute. She’s single right?”

“Shes not but if you talk to her good, she will be down with you.”

“Idk about that lol i’m not trying to get into ANY fights over a girl”

“You’re all the way in Neah Bay. The guy she’s with will only just drag her into his lowlife lifestyle. You saw how talented she is”

“Yeah but I don’t know if I should trust that”

“Just at least give her an idea to leave him”

”Thats crazyyy lmaoo” “No trust me. She wants to leave La Push to pursue her art seriously but he’s trapping her there. I just want her to hurry up and save herself before she gets knocked up by him :/ ”

The messages end and you look at his furious eyes.

“Who is this?” you say, “Who is she texting?” Refusing to believe.

“My cousin. He’s from there and was going to that same party. He sent that to me. Okay, look.” He takes the phone out of your grasp, scrolls some more. Then hands it back to you. It’s between Paul and his cousin now.

“Want to see what she looks like?”

“She’s probably ugly”

“Shut up” *picture attachment*

“Are you trying to be funny”

“? ? No”

“Fuck you”

“What? I’m serious. Her friend is just trying to hooking us up. Why are you mad? Do you know her or something ?”

“You’re dumb as hell. That’s MY gf “What’s her friend’s name?”

“Kim.” *screenshot attachment*

You look up and he’s giving you a “I told you so” look.

You look to the wall and you have nothing to say.

“And that’s your “friend” right?” he says to you.

You get up, feeling overwhelmed and grab your valuable items that you brought.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

You go to him, kiss him to let him know you’re not mad at him. You pull back and open his bedroom door, “I need to go home.”

He follows you out, calling for you to come back. You’re ignoring him while walking and he catches up to you and grabs your arm but you shrug it off hard, feeling irritated.

“Just leave me alone. Like, I’m serious. I need to be by myself right now or else I’ll be shitty to you so please…” you say and you continue walking.

Nothing was seemed as what it seemed. Fuming, you make your way back to your house. Paul called but you didn’t answer. You just text him.

“Let me think.”

He texts back like lightening, immediately reading your message.

“You’ll think yourself into a conniption”

You roll your eyes and place your phone some place where you can’t reach with it arm length. You grab your headphones and turn on some music. You just wanted a time in your life where you wasn’t so surprised that it was life altering. You lie there as music pumps through your ears, leaking into your head, thinking about why couldn’t your life be simple?

[ginevrapng]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE your chubby reader fics. I was thinking maybe marauders era Remus lupin, maybe he has a crush on chubby reader but she’s oblivious bc she thinks he could never like her? Keeps giving her little gifts almost trying to court her

it's charms and remus lupin is staring longingly at you, all in vain of course, at least that's what he's come to believe. he's fancied you for months and he's tried everything over the past few months to get you to notice but you never have, so all he can do is take these small moments to admire you afar and in peace.

in the recent months you noticed a change with him, you'd say you're not really friends and consider yourself more acquaintances, but he's been making more of an effort to talk to you. you figure he's heard about what happened with that ravenclaw who insulted you in front of your whole house and took some pity on you. remus had no knowledge of this event and if he had the marauders would have made him their number one target.

remus is starting to feel at his wits end, he's asked to study with you which now happens every week, he smiles at you in the hallways and talks to you in between classes, he even gave you a book he thought you'd like and buys you sweets from honeydukes. he feels like he's running out of options. a couple weeks ago he asked you to go to hogsmeade together and you turned him down saying that he should go with his friends and not be stuck with you, "i'm not going to be stuck with you, i want to go with you that's why i asked." remus' eyebrows furrow slightly, trying to get you to understand that he wants you to come.

"thank you remus, you're so kind but don't worry about me, you should be with your friends." you tell him and he feels like shouting at you and telling you off sometimes because how can you be so clueless to his feelings but to you you've never even considered the possibility that remus might have feelings for you. in your eyes how could he, you're just some chubby girl and remus is extremely out of your league so why would he ever be interested in you? he's smart and kind and friendly and attractive, he's really endearing. you like knowing that remus doesn't like talking to a lot of people and that he can become awkward, you like it because he chooses to speak to you and that always makes you feel warm inside, he truly is amazing, and truly out of your league. little did you know that remus thinks the same of you, you're sweet and pretty and cute and you look so soft. he dreams about holding your plush body in his arms while you talk together for hours and sneaking you into his dorm.

remus is studying, this time without you and he's lost track of time, he's looking at the words but not taking anything in, instead just thinking about you. his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of james pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. "where's your girlfriend moony?" james grins at him.

"she's not my girlfriend," remus sighs and rubs his forehead with his hand smoothing out the crinkles.

james' grin falters understanding that pain, he had the same pain with lily before they became a couple. "do you wanna talk about it mate?"

remus pulls his head back and looks up to the ceiling, "no, but i- it's j-just, she never believes me and takes me seriously. she constantly thinks i'm being her friend no matter what i say," remus says sounding slightly frustrated.

"i'm sure that's not true, maybe you're not making it obvious enough. it's clear that she likes you back, she always smiles when you answer questions in class and looks at you when you're not looking."

"prongs that isn't helping one bit, if she likes me back why won't she get that i like her too. i've made it plenty obvious, last week everyone was talking about that celestial ball that happens every few years and i said that i would want to go with her, i literally told her i'd want to go with the prettiest girl in school, you."

james starts laughing, "i thought she was meant to be clever moony."

"don't say that, she is, cleverer than you. she's just... oblivious."

"who's oblivious?" remus turns his head to see you standing there with the textbook that you've borrowed of him under your arm.

"you," james replies automatically grinning, remus glares at him, i'm going to kill him later. james slaps his hands on his knees and gets up, "i'll be off, catch you lovebirds later," he grins and walks off.

"piss off," remus says considering throwing something at him as he walks away.

you sit down where james was sitting but move your chair closer towards remus. "james really is ridiculous, you deserve much better than me," you say casually with a smile and go to open your book to the correct page.

remus frowns as he hears the self-depreciation in your tone, because what do you mean, if anything it's the other way. you look up at him when he doesn't reply and you see the frown on his face. "remus are you okay?" you ask concerned, hopefully james didn't make him feel uncomfortable by calling you both lovebirds.

"you really are oblivious," he mutters.

"huh?"

he shakes his head and places his hand over yours on the table, stroking your hand with his thumb, you look shocked at the action but remus just turns back to his book knowing that he'll be able to concentrate now with you next to him.

i'm so glad you like my chubby reader fics!!! i had so much fun with this!!

reader who doesn't think people will like them because they have low self esteem and doesn't think highly of their body + remus who loves them and their body like it's second nature, like it's the same as breathing ahhhh, it's sooo good

[yamujiburo]

Hey, sorry if you've answered this before at some point, but recent asks made me curious on your take. In the last few episodes with Ash, Delia mentioned that his father was supposed to show up, but canceled at the last minute because he was busy. Do you think that they do sometimes contact each other about Ash, or that he only contacted her when he heard about Ash's accomplishments? Was she angry he canceled, and do you think she and Ash decided to put him out of their minds after that?

You're thinking of the special episode Distant Blue Sky! I feel like most people, myself included, consider it an AU (same universe as the I Choose You movie). You can tell by the different hat!

People consider it as such because in I Choose You, he starts his journey almost the same except he never meets Misty or Brock and instead meets/travels with Verity and Sorrel. Then in the subsequent movies, Everyone's Story and Secrets of the Jungle, the hat implies those are in the same universe.

It's also considered an AU because he DOES get his iconic hat with the league "L" but rather than starting off with it, his dad leaves it for him. He also mentions his father in Secrets of the Jungle which leads me to believe his dad was around in this version! So in this timeline, yeah! I think Delia maybe keeps in contact with him but it does seem like their interactions are very limited

But I subscribe more to the Pokemon novel and anime timeline where Ash's dad leaves prior to Ash even being born and not coming back since

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

[brittle-doughie]

What if Y/n Cookie talks to White Lily Cookie based on the stage: A Brave Advice?

A Brave Advice (Reader Insert)

Well at least he isn’t sending a literal kid to talk with her this time.

“Actually, Y/N Cookie’s company might be just what White Lily Cookie needs.”

“Huh? Really? I mean, don’t get me wrong, White Lily Cookie has been very receptive to Y/N Cookie, but is their company really what she needs?”

“I’m sure of it. Y/N Cookie’s great support has helped me and countless other Cookies. Y/N Cookie, I would like to ask you if you could try and talk to White Lily Cookie?”

You took a look over to White Lily Cookie as she stands from a little sliver bridge looking towards the kingdom. A part of you felt like not disturbing her time alone, but…she could deep down really use some company….

You agreed to do it as you head over to her…

You called out to White Lily Cookie, wondering about what’s on her mind….

“Y/N Cookie…Are you not mad at me..? You and your friends broke the Moonstone to save me..and yet, it only brought back Dark Enchantress Cookie…”

What? No, you couldn’t be mad at White Lily Cookie. Dark Enchantress Cookie had tricked you, tricked the others, tricked her. She fooled everyone….

“Y/N Cookie, you…speak as if Dark Enchantress Cookie and I are two separate beings.”

If you wanted to look at it truthfully, then yes. White Lily Cookie is in fact Dark Enchantress Cookie…

But it was White Lily Cookie’s love and kindness for all of Cookiekind that makes her leagues different from Dark Enchantress Cookie!

White Lily Cookie was taken aback by your response, fully expecting you to resent her when it ended up being the complete opposite. You saw White Lily Cookie for who she was deep down…

“Y/N Cookie….Do you know why Cookies were first created?”

That question gave you pause. The exact one that Dark Enchantress Cookie asked back at the banquet…

You…you did. It’s an unfortunate reason that you, that all the others existed….

White Lily sighed solemnly…

“Then..you would that we were made to…”

But…

You cut her off.

But that doesn’t mean that things can’t be different. Regardless if you knew why you were made or not won’t change how you or the others live their lives.

“I don’t understand. Don’t you want to understand the time you’re given despite knowing your purpose?”

You don’t believe that everything has to end in a certain way. You don’t need to have a special purpose to live your life the way you saw fit.

You were free to choose the path you want to take and that path was to see your cookies happy and prosper! The fun and adventure never has to end if you keep moving forward on your path as you go…

“Choose as you go…moving forward…”

“I see….ha ha….”

White Lily Cookie giggled as she leaned her head on your shoulder.

“Y/N Cookie…if I had met you sooner, I think a lot of things would’ve turned out differently.”

You chuckled along with her giggles.

Maybe…maybe it would’ve…

[genacity]

ᚙ GENACITY’S KINKTOBER 2023! ୭ৎ

hello everyone, it’s gen! this year, i’ve decided to participate in kinktober to make up for the lack of content i’ve been producing. to put it short, i’ve been super busy and demotivated because i haven’t played hoyo games in a while. but, i thought it’d be fun to crank out a few halloween themed stories for you guys to let y’all know i’m still alive. every monday and friday of the month i will be posting a blurb or story with one character and a few kinks. so, without further ado, genacity’s 2023 kinktober prompt list!

the kinks written in this masterlist may be considered graphic or extreme for some audiences. please be advised.

this may or may not include mythical species / monsterfucking (vampires, lycanthrope, ghosts, etc), bondage, aphrodisiac / drugging, somnophilia, unhealthy obsession, blood (no gore), impact play, etc.

in all works, each party explicitly verbalizes their concent and is aware they are consenting. in the case of established relationships, it is to be interpreted that the couple has mutually agreed to anything beforehand (ex. somnophilia, aphrodisiac, etc). and is aware and okay with what their partner is doing. safewords are present, consent is key.

this masterlist will also be multifandom to reach more audiences and test my comfortability writing for new media.

as always, minors, do not interact with any of my works or me in general. this blog contains mature content.

thank you for choosing whorror airlines. ✈️

OCTOBER 2. gojo satoru

your boyfriend gojo satoru is convinced you’ll never be able to knock him off of the pedestal he stands on. saying he’ll always be the one to fuck you good and straight, that you’ll never one up him. maybe it’s time to show him that he’s not always right.

bratty! first time sub! gojo, overstim, dacryphilia, anal penetration & fingering, hair pulling, dumbification

OCTOBER 6. rengoku kyojurou

when a clueless hashira wanders into your layer of operations, you can’t help but put up a fight— and admire his fat tits through the inconvenient tear in his uniform you inflict.

demon! reader, masochist? rengoku, feminization, body worship, praise, nipple play, impact play

OCTOBER 9/10. armin arlert

as a vampire and a parent, it’s hard to find a babysitter that’ll stay up all night with your nocturnal little one while you’re at work. luckily for you, armin is here to get the job done.

vampire! parent! reader, babysitter! armin, blood kink, blood sucking, slight pain kink, handjob

OCTOBER 13. vi (league / arcane)

after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well.

afab! reader, aphrodisiac chocolate, degradation, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, slight overstimulation

BREAK. OCTOBER 15 — 21.

OCTOBER 23. kaeya alberich

as a werewolf, it’s hard to control your animalistic urges as is. but while in a heat; dizzy and restless and constantly feverish with your tease of a boyfriend around, it just gets that much more difficult.

amab! werewolf! reader, breeding kink, heat, anal pen, “monsterfucking”, spanking, belly bulge, established relationship

OCTOBER 27. simon “ghost” riley

you and your partner ghost have to train on how to get out of hostage situations. luckily for you, you’re good at tying knots.

sadist! reader, masochist! ghost, bondage, temperature/wax play, suggestive

[levisjinchuriki]

insatiable 

summary: armin is inexperienced in every way. he’s never been on a date, had his first kiss, has never been touched… armin wants it to be with someone special. someone like you. 

warning: armin fluff, confessing feelings, innocent!armin, virgin!armin, mentions of religion, armin secures his first date ever

word count: 2.1k - ch 1 

armin’s religion is something precious to him, however, he doesn’t agree with every limitation. he prays everyday and attends church on sundays, but he doesn’t believe in waiting until marriage. his main ideology is saving himself for someone special. he doesn’t want to have flings with people just for the sake of it. he wants to have a meaningful connection with someone first before trying anything. along with this idea, armin is incredibly shy. hence why he’s still a virgin and entering his second year of college. that fact doesn’t bother him, but it confuses the hell out of his friends.

armin is human. he obviously feels the same urges everyone else does but he chooses his beliefs over the fleeting thoughts. he’s not one to cave into peer pressure. his friends have tried to take on the role of his wingmen a few times before to try to get girls to talk to him, but he’s always politely declined their offers. one time eren had successfully talked a girl into going on a date with armin. when he heard about the plan armin approached her and apologized for his friend’s behavior. 

armin is an introvert. he likes to be in the comfort of his own room listening to music, watching a movie, studying, reading his bible… he doesn’t get out much. the only people he hangs out with are the friends he’s had since he was a child. much to their surprise, eren and mikasa convinced armin to go out with them tonight. it’ll be his first time attending a house party in a while. the music is always too loud and way too vulgar for his taste. he doesn’t drink. he doesn’t smoke. he’s too timid to talk to strangers. nothing about the environment screams armin arlert. 

other than his friends, the only thing he likes at this party is you. he likes how you show off your intelligence in philosophy class, how kind you are when you tell the professor to have a good night, how pretty you look when you smile… armin has thought about you quite a bit the last few weeks. he has a bit of a crush on you. it’s a new feeling for him, he’s never had a proper crush on someone before. 

when armin thinks of you his thoughts of you are always pure. he wonders what it’s like to be the one to make you laugh, take you on a date, maybe even hold your hand while he walks you home… 

“is that a purity ring?”, you ask. your voice is a bit loud as you try to talk over the music and other people’s conversations. you shift your weight on the couch as you lean down to get a better look at the piece of jewelry on armin’s finger. you’re careful not to spill the drink you’re holding as you look closer. armin looks down at his hand as you inspect it. you’ve never seen one before. 

armin isn’t sure when his crush on you began. he could feel his heart race whenever you entered a room and how his eyes automatically shut when he caught a whiff of your perfume. he’s only known you since the semester started. although you’re in the same class, he hasn’t had an opportunity to talk to you just yet. while he doesn’t know much about you, armin can tell you’re out of his league. he knows you're beautiful and intimidating and he’s just armin. nothing was really special about him. 

“it is”, he answers you, voice timid. when you sit back up he nervously clasps his hands together. he’s not embarrassed of his faith one bit. he’s proud to say he believes in a higher being. armin just isn’t one to crave attention and your question had inadvertently caused some heads to turn. 

“so you’ve never had sex?”, you ask. you’re trying to be respectful. you aren’t asking in an attempt to humiliate him, you’re genuinely curious. armin is very handsome, sweet, charming, smart… you wonder how no one has had the chance to be with him yet. he’s such a catch.

armin meets your eyes, then looks behind you. mikasa and eren are looking at him expectantly. they’re sure armin has never been intimate with anyone before, but he’s never confirmed it. he’s not sure what his friends will say about it. armin hesitates to answer. he looks back down at his ring and plays with it. 

you scold yourself for embarrassing him. this is not a conversation to have so publicly. you down the rest of your drink before leaning into armin, closer this time. 

“come with me”, you whisper into his ear. goosebumps run down his arms at the feeling of your breath against his skin. before armin has time to respond, you hold his hand and lead him away from the living room. armin notices that his much larger hand swallows yours. 

eren and mikasa give each other a look as you both leave the couch. they know about your crush on each other. 

armin desperately follows close behind you, not wanting to get lost in the sea of drunk college students. his hands already feel clammy in your grasp. 

“where are we going?”, he asks as you both make your way upstairs. armin purposefully keeps his gaze up, being respectful and not looking down at your hips as they sway in front of him. 

instead of answering him you guide armin into the bedroom and shut the door behind you. it’s much quieter here. all that can be heard are the muffled conversations from below and the bass of the music. 

armin wipes his palms on his pants, feeling a bit on edge. he makes sure not to snoop around. it wouldn’t be very respectful of him. armin fidgets with his ring while he waits for you to break the ice. you watch him as you lean with your back pressed against your door, wondering what’s going on inside his head. his blonde bangs cover his forehead, but you still notice that he keeps his eyes on the floor, careful not to pry. how thoughtful. 

“i thought we could have more privacy here”, you explain. armin smiles gratefully at you, but quickly averts his gaze again. you’re not sure if he’s upset with you, but you decide to apologize anyway to cover your bases. “i didn’t mean to embarrass you-”, you start. 

armin shakes his head at your apology. “please”, he interrupts you. “it’s okay, really”. he doesn’t think you have anything to apologize for. was the question intrusive? yes, but he knows you weren’t asking him with any malicious intent. 

“you can ask me anything you want”, he tells you. armin’s blue eyes bore into yours. you nod and carefully select your words. you don't want to come off as ignorant for not understanding or too critical of him. you weren’t a virgin yourself, but you definitely were not a pro. you were just picky. 

“is it a religious thing?”, you ask. armin considers your question for a moment. he tilts his head to the side as he thinks. 

“yes and no. my faith says not to be intimate with anyone until marriage. it’s a nice sentiment, but i don’t intend to wait that long”, armin pauses to collect his thoughts. “i’m waiting to give myself to someone i trust completely. and maybe even grow to love” he says sweetly. there’s crinkles next to his eyes as he smiles, thinking about his beliefs. a smile appears on your own lips at his answer. you didn’t expect him to say something so innocent. 

“i admire that”, you tell him. he looks away and tries not to blush at your comment. surely armin had to have girls falling over each other to get a chance with him. what’s not to like?

“so that means you’ve done everything leading up to sex, right?”, you ask expectantly. 

armin shakes his head. “not exactly”, he places a hand behind his neck. “i’ve never done anything before”, he answers truthfully. armin doesn’t say anything after his confession. you take a moment to look at him. he’s so sweet and gentle. he isn’t the heartbreaker type and is definitely not one to have a one night stand. he’s mature, unlike most people at this age. he knows what he wants and is willing to wait for the right time. 

you can’t hide the surprised look on your face. in college everyone has had their first kiss, first relationship, maybe even first heartbreak by now. it’s so rare to find someone who hasn’t experienced anything at all. you hate to admit it, but the thought of being his first is intriguing. a bit naughty, too. 

you speak before you can stop yourself. “do you want to?”, you ask. armin’s cheeks are crimson. “you said you were waiting to give yourself to someone you trust. i’m not saying we have to go all the way, but if you ever want to try a few things…”, your voice fades away as you try to explain your thoughts.

armin stands there, stunned at your offer. he’s never been given a proposition like this before. it’s a lot to consider. he wouldn’t be abandoning his faith, but he’s not in an established relationship with you. what if this situation goes south and it changes his feelings for you? what if it makes you see him in a negative light? armin doesn’t want to experiment with something as precious as you. 

on the other hand, you do have a point. armin doesn’t know what he likes and dislikes. he won’t if he doesn’t explore himself. what if he’s a bad kisser and doesn’t know it? or bad at other things but isn’t aware because of his lack of experience? 

the middle ground is you. he isn’t being pressured to do anything he doesn’t want to. you were just offering. he could say no and it would be entirely okay. but if he was going to try anything he’d want it to be with you. 

“i know you like me, armin”. he looks away from you, feeling a bit embarrassed. “mikasa told me”, you inform him as you walk closer. he holds back his urge to cringe. of course she told you. 

“don’t worry”, you coo as you rest your fingertips under his chin to tilt it up. armin’s eyes shift between yours. you're so close to him now. he holds his breath, feeling his chest tighten up a bit. 

“i like you too”, you smile. armin can’t believe what he’s hearing. you actually like him? he stutters, not knowing what to say. with the way you’re looking at him he’s sure you’re telling the truth, but he’s hesitant to believe you. why would you like him?

armin remembers you’ve had a few drinks. he’s never tried it before so he’s not sure how it works. but he remembers hearing that sometimes people say things they don't mean, so he’s running with that idea.

“you’ve been drinking”, he states. surely the alcohol is to blame for the discussion you’re having. your smile doesn’t waver. 

“i’m not drunk, armin. i’ve meant everything i’ve said”, you tell him sincerely. you drop your hand from his chin, giving him some space and time to think. armin spins his ring around his finger as he reflects on your conversation. he’s nervous, interested, scared, hopeful… he’s feeling a bit of everything right now. 

“if we’re going to do this i think we should do it properly”. armin always thinks strategically. he doesn’t want this situation to blow up in his face later. he wants to make sure he does things the right way.

“properly?”, you repeat. you try not to seem so eager. 

“well, i should take you out first, right?”, he asks, uncertain of his own question. a smile returns to your lips. just thinking about being with armin was making you giddy. 

“are you asking me out on a date?”. he stutters again. it’s cute how he’s so easily flustered. you let him short-circuit for a moment before calling his name soothingly. your voice grounds him. armin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to center himself before speaking again.

“if you’ll let me, i’d like to take you on a date sometime”, armin says, much more calm than before. it’s your turn to blush. no one has ever made you feel so special in such a short amount of time. you’re more than happy to accept his offer. 

“i’d love to go on a date with you”, you respond. armin’s blue eyes shimmer as he beams at you. he’s excited for what’s to come.

-------

ch 2>>

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading!! everyone is welcome to leave feedback and requests in my inbox!! also, let me know if you want to be added to my permanent taglist! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[gotham--fc]

January Hymn - An Emily Sonnett Imagine

So this takes place during 2020 when Sonnett was on loan to Gothenburg and that was a very long time ago so if the timeline is not correct that's the way the cookie crumbles 🤷‍♀️(also my first time writing in second person if y'all like it I might do more second person stuff)

Also based off the song January Hymn by The Decemberists which I cannot recommend enough their entire discography is *chefs kiss*

About 2k words, pretty angsty, not a happy ending

You had long since accepted that this was as far as your career will take you.

You grew up in Sweden, up north, and moved to Gothenburg when you turned 18. You played soccer all your life and it was obvious to everyone who saw you that you were yards ahead of every other kid you played with. Your parents would drive you hours away from your hometown so you could play on a competitive team in a bigger city, where your talent was matched and developed. You ended up on an academy team and set your sights on going pro.

You are a professional player now. In your teenage years, you imagined yourself in World Cup finals, Champions League finals, you imagined your mantle filled with trophies and medals. You imagine you would leave Sweden. You liked to imagine yourself in Germany, or France, or England, maybe even America, and playing for top clubs around the world. However, none of those dreams really panned out for you.

You moved to Gothenburg and signed your first professional contract. You didn’t notice it at the time, but you were nearing your peak in your play, your development slowing. You love playing here, always have, but you didn’t imagine spending your whole career here. Over the years, you have watched players leave. Young players rise quickly through the ranks and get swooped up by flashy contracts at even flashier clubs. You look back at yourself at 18, 19, 20, and you know you were never as good as they are, never really had a chance at going somewhere else.

You’re not upset. You’re at peace with it all now. Sure, when you first realized that your dreams wouldn’t pan out, you were heartbroken, disappointed, frustrated, but you moved on. You’re happy with your life. You still get to play the sport you love for a living. You recognize now that you would’ve crashed and burned had you gone anywhere else. You love Sweden too much to leave, and the homesickness would’ve been too much. All in all, you’re happy where you are and you don’t regret a thing.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

Players move around all the time. It’s the nature of sports, players choosing to leave for a variety of reasons, teams deciding not to resign players for whatever reason, the team is always changing. You have been a staple in Gothenburg for years, but you’re one of a few. You’re used to having your friends move away and you’re used to only seeing them over Facetime after fighting through time differences. It’s part of your life.

You don’t think much of it when your coach announces a new player will be joining the team on loan from America. It’s not the first American, and it’s not the first loan, and really you’re just happy to see a new face. With Covid restrictions you really only see your teammates and the coaching staff, and you’re looking forward to not having the same conversations over and over. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to have an extra player to contribute when you’re pushing for a title.

Emily Sonnett, when you meet her looks like she’s had more of a year than you have. There’s a deep tiredness in her, one that she tries to hide behind her smile. You hear whispers in the locker room, about trades and the team in America she wasn’t playing for. You don’t care. You don’t care what she’s running from in America, you don’t care what her reasons for coming here are. It’s not really your business to care, anyway.

"Hi, Emily, right?" You approach her in the locker room. Her head is trained down at her cleats even though she’s tied them tight already. Her head snaps up when you speak.

“Most people just call me Sonnett. Or Sonny. Whatever you want.”

“Okay Sonnett,” You say, “You enjoying the city so far?”

“Uh, I haven’t really had a chance,” Emily, Sonnett, says, “I don’t really speak Swedish so, I just try not to get lost.”

Most of the team knows some English, some more fluent than others, but they do tend to speak Swedish to each other. You learned English when you were younger, in the hope that you might need it when you moved away. You’re grateful for it now, because Sonnett looks like she needs someone she can speak to.

“I’ve lived here for a long time, let me show you around. Gothenburg is a beautiful city, I would hate for you to not see the city the way I do.”

“Okay,” Sonnett says, “I’d like that.”

You take Sonnett around the city, showing her all your favourite spots, and you love sharing your city and your country with your teammates, but something feels different with Sonnett. She’s hilarious, and you laugh the whole day, and every time you laugh her eyes light up. You asked her, earlier in the day, why she came to Gothenburg, and she gave you a vague answer about COVID and not being able to play in the States over the summer and just wanting to get some games under her belt before the Olympics next year. You understand, in a way, because you’ve never not had soccer, never not been able to play, and you can’t imagine having it taken away without your control.

You have been fairly lucky with injuries, never having anything serious enough to take you out for a long time. You have watched your teammates and friends sidelined for months with injuries, and you feel extremely grateful that you’ve never had to deal with that. You know that Sonnett isn’t unable to play in the States because of injuries, but because of the pandemic that has effected you as well. No one really knows what the pandemic will bring, how the world will be impacted by it, and you’re just happy you get play, that the team has found a way to play safely.

“I know Sweden is not as warm as Florida,” You say when you noticed Sonnett shiver.

“Oh, I wasn’t in Florida, I was in Georgia with my family,” Sonnett says, “I don’t have a place in Florida and I’m not about to couch surf off my friends, so I just stayed with my family.”

“I did not realize your American teams don’t provide housing.”

“They did, they do,” Sonnett says, “There’s no point in getting me a place. They’re not playing in Florida this year, and they won’t keep me next year. I told them I don’t want to stay next year.”

You’re not really sure what to say. The conversations today have been lighthearted, and you’re not sure how to handle the change. You’ve had teammates request transfers before, but the system here is so different than in the States. Here, if you don’t want to stay with a team, you just don’t sign another contract, but it’s different over there.

“I was traded,” Sonnett says when you stay quiet, “From Portland. I’d been there for so long and I really thought they’d keep me, but then they traded me. And I don’t want to play for Orlando. I… I want to go back to Portland, I want my old life back. All my friends were there and I was really happy. It felt shitty that they could just get rid of me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, because what else is there to say?

“I’m not playing in Florida, for the Pride, and I made that clear. I don’t even want to go back to Portland, because it’s obvious I don’t mean anything to them, and all my friends are gone too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“D’you know any good pet shops?” Sonnett says suddenly, “I wanna get my dog Bagel so many Swedish dog toys before I go back.”

Your head reels from the abrupt change in conversation. You get the sense that Sonnett is not someone who likes to have serious conversations, so you don’t push. You don’t have any pets, so you don’t know where the nearest pet shop is, but you use google maps and you laugh as Sonnett makes jokes about each toy and the way she butchers the pronunciations of names.

It feels like the start of something, something you can’t put a name on. You didn’t know it then, but the start sometimes can also be the end.

***

You knew Sonnett’s loan would end. That’s how loans work, there’s also an end date to them. While you knew that, and knew your time was limited, her departure crept up on you. First, you were ecstatic, thrilled, that you won the league. It’s what the team has been working towards, and you get to see all your hard work paid off. Through the celebrations and the champagne, you find Sonnett alone.

“I thought you were the life of the party,” You say, “Or are your stories lies?”

“No, I am usually pretty rowdy,” Sonnett says, “They don’t call me Saucy for nothing.” You chuckle. “I was just thinking how much I’ll miss this.”

You head cocks to the side. Miss this? It’s hits you, the season is over, and Sonnett’s loan is over, and she’ll be going back to the States.

“I’m happy to go home, see my family and friends again, but I’ve really enjoyed it here.”

“Yeah,” You say quietly, feeling choked up suddenly.

The two of you look at each other and you can see the emotion in Sonnett’s eyes, no doubt mirrored in yours. There’s something you want to say, caught on the tip of your tongue, and you’re not even sure yourself what it is, but before you can, someone bumps into you and then you and Sonnett are dragged back into the celebrations.

Sonnett leaves a week later.

You offer to drive her to the airport. It’s an excuse to see her one last time before she leaves and she doesn’t fight you on it. You pick her up from her apartment and she slides into the passengers seat of your car. She looks tired, and you think a little sad, but she hides her emotions so well that you can’t tell if you’re just projecting.

The drive is quiet, the two of you attempting to make conversation, but there’s nothing to say. She’s leaving, and you’re staying, and neither of those facts will change. Her life is in the States, and yours is here, and maybe in another life you would’ve been more talented and more skilled and maybe you would’ve found yourself in the States, on the same team as Sonnett.

You park in the drop off zone and you get out of the car while Sonnett grabs her bags from the back. You take a moment to just look at her, and then you pull her into a hug.

“I’m glad you came here,” You say, “Even if it was short. I… I wish…” There’s so much you want to say. You pull back to look Sonnett in the eyes. As soon as you lock eyes, all the words leave you. What can you say?

She stands there, looking at you, and she’s waiting, she’s waiting for you to say it, and you’re waiting for her to say it, because how can you say anything right before she leaves you? How can she say anything right before she leaves you?

“Goodbye Emily Sonnett,” You say, “Don’t forget about me when you win a gold medal, okay?”

“Never,” She says, “Don’t forget me when you win the Champions League.”

And with that, she’s gone.

You drive back alone.

As you drive, even though you’ve lived in Sweden your whole life, it feels colder than it has ever been.

You go about your life as normal, except with an aching hole in your chest. You go over the drive and the goodbye over and over, wondering. What would you have said? What could you have said that might’ve made her stay? If you said something, if she said something, would it have changed anything?

No, you think, it wouldn’t have, because your lives are thousands of miles apart and nothing will ever change that.

You watch her at the Olympics that summer and you watch her lose in the semis and you watch Sonnett on the field, with her teammates, after the loss, and then in the bronze medal game, when they win. You wish you were there, you wish you could call her, congratulate her. You wonder if she watched your Champions League games. You wonder if she saw you lose and wished she could call you. You wonder if she thinks about you at all.

Maybe in another life, you tell yourself, maybe if things were different. Maybe you should just let it all go, maybe when you stop waiting, she’ll come back to you.

[that1emowitch]

here me out

AU where instead of doing the whole red hood thing, jason just stays with the all caste. he finally meets the batfam when the justice league is facing a threat and need the help of the all caste. could be pretty good angst, since it directly disproves every shitty thing bruce said about jay, and bruce realises that his son was alive like way later than in canon

also it's a crime that jayessence basically doesn't exist, there are 11 fics on ao3. i want jayessence and competent!jason pls

That'll be so interesting, ur right! I'm definitely gonna go read RHATO issues again so I refresh my memory (if there r any other issues with the all-caste story PLEASE lmk cuz i have a very tumultuous love/hate relationship with RHATO lol)

I think Jason would've been happier, with the All-Caste. Talia would've visited him when she could (let's make her a mom not a pedo), Ducra would've trained him in every single war form she knew, putting hum on a path to surpass even her

Essence and Jay would've been her top students (if u don't mind, could u pls give me a lil recap on what Essence's story is? I kinda got confused in that part. Was she banished? She's one of the Untitled, technically, is she not? I don't rmbr 😭)

But basically, Jayessence! I've never read a fic about it or written one, but I've always thought it was an interesting dynamic! It'd be fun to try writing it out. Maybe I'll make a happier AU, where Essence and Jason train together under Ducra, both of them named her heirs. That kinda makes them play-fight with each other which ends up with them kissing. Oh god Jason would be so smitten by her, he'd pretend to be annoyed but he knows she's a goddess, knows she could kill him in a blink, knows his blade could kill her—but they both choose to love. AAHHABSBSHS I'm dying

Then the Untitled attack.

I love Ducra so much, she's their BAMF Granny, so let's not kill her. Maybe instead, she is kidnapped, in hopes of getting Jason and Essence to surrender (They know these two could destroy them). And at the same time, the Untitled are also attacking JLA outposts, for a reason I'll come up with later. Bruce remembers, back when he trained under the League, Ra's mentioning evil beings of this type, immortal and unstoppable by all but the All-Caste. Hence they seek their help.

And with Ducra gone, Jason and Essence are in charge, and they have to meet with the JLA—with Batman, Superman, and WW, specifically.

Jason makes sure to cover himself completely. Puts white nose generators in his mask and chest plate to ward off Supes. Makes sure to double, triple check his voice modulator. He cannot risk them finding out his true identity.

Not when he's finally recovering from his past as Robin.

I'm imaging they work together for a while, with everyone noticing the Red Hood (would he still be called Red Hood, if he never returned to Gotham? Maybe? Maybe he was reclaiming it, as a way to heal himself instead of for getting revenge) basically everyone notices RH being antsy around Batman. The amount of effort he puts into concealing his identity, unlike the other members of All-Caste. His name being Joker’s old name, something deeply meaningful to Gothamites.

Batman thinks RH is a reformed Gotham villain, who he's dealt with before. He thinks that's why RH doesn't ever face him, doesn't look him in the eye. He feels bad for him, but is strangely proud (just feel like mentioning, the thing about Batman is, he cares SO MUCH. About everyone. He feels sorrow when they lose themselves to their insanity, feels guilt over it. And he feels pride when they bounce back, grow better, like Harley Quinn did.) Like, this man, this absolute machine, clearly well honed and trained, who seems more than capable of taking on the entire Justice League by himself. Clearly he has experience.

Essence helps Jason through it. Soothes him at night when he has panic attacks, because his Dad is two rooms away from him. Helps him cope. Helps him calm down.

Then one day in some battle, one of the Untitled fatally injures Jason, and Batman is the only one nearby. Batman takes a hasty decision, rips Jason's mask off to save him.

And freezes.

That... that's his son. He looks older, more scarred, but thats... that's his SON!

(ALSO another addition: when they find Ducra she's like "uncuff me, and I'll show you just who Essence and Jason learnt from" BAMF!DUCRA FOR LIFEE)

Sorry for the rambling I just kept getting ideas and I kept writing lol

I promise I'll write this as a proper story as soon as I can, thanks so much for the ask! As usual, lmk in the comments if you'd like me to tag u in updates, also feel free to share any ideas u have! I'm just writing what yall want to read that makes me happy hehe

[frownyalfred]

Okay but the angst of Bruce dying from soul bond not being full filled is delicious. Of course Clarke would Never allow Bruce to die, even if it cost him Lois over this, but if after Lois learns about the cheating and Clarkes chooses Lois, I don't think Bruce would tell Clarke.

I think Bruce would kind of assume it's his fault, and if he can't push through this, which in his mind is his own fault, well, he deserves it. Especially since his kids are mad at him, Dick and Jason are not talking to him. So as the effects grow worse, Bruce never says anything, dealing with it on his. At least, until his heart stops, and Clark suddenly feels Bruce's death like his hear withering and dying. He screams and collapses, in more pain he's ever been in. Maybe if he had been listening to Bruce's heart like he had done for years, had heard it stutter, he could have been fast enough to save Bruce. But he had choosen Lois, completely and totally, even knowing there would be consequences to separating from Bruce.

Alfred (and Dick) knew Bruce was going through it, and Alfred even knew about the soul bond aspect (no one else did) and that his health was failing because of it, but thought he would recover. The idea of Bruce dying from what was basically a broken heart was inconceivable to him. But his son body, despite feeling warm to the touch, is unnaturally still beneath his hands, having taken over CPR on Bruce so Dick could have a break, the ambulance 15 minutes out at best.

How could Clark live with himself after? How does Lois feel, realizing that the soulbond stuff was really really real, that her once friend is dead. And Clark, despite knowing this could happen (but didn't really, it was Bruce. Bruce was always the exception, always the outlier, and all the information they had said it only happened in about half the cases and Bruce couldn't- Bruce Can't be...) never believed, never thought this could happen.

How the guilt must kill every day. And imagine the league and family finding out. Dick, Jason and Alfred would never forgive Clark and Lois. Despite originally being on Lois' side. And Lois, I mean, would she stay or leave in that situation? She has to stay or Bruce died for nothing but she can't stay since Clark will never forgive her for her or himself for Bruce's death (even thought it's not her fault), nor will any one in the caped community see her or Clark the same.

So much angst and whump ♡♡♡

(Ps, as an apology for all this angst you totally write SuperBatLane fluffy smut) (This is a joke) (the apology bit, not the superbatlane stuff. You should definitely write some superbatlane)

Oh wow, that ask is a gut lunch. How about, if I finish the cheating superbat fic, I promise to write some superlanebat smut and call it all even? Everyone’s happy then?

[outsideratheart]

The Bet (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Based off this request

“Chicas!” You shout just before the team return to the pitch for the second half “here’s a little incentive for you in case lifting that trophy isn’t enough. If we win this then I will get a tattoo to celebrate” 

The look of disbelief on every player’s face would have been funny under any other circumstance but you wanted them to know that you were very serious. Your body was a blank canvas and getting a tattoo never interested you even when some of your closest friends begged you to get one. Ink wasn’t really your thing, hair dye on the other hand well that was how you expressed yourself. You had tried every colour under the sun and then repeated it. 

Alexia on the other hand loved to use her body as art and every single tattoo on her skin told a story. Her hair up until her injury had been brunette. When you told her that her tearing her ACL is like a bad break up, she has to learn to move on so he decided to do the typical thing after any break up, she died her hair and you loved the blonde more than the previous colour. 

Knowing that you and Alexia have a competitive relationship they all looked at their captain to see if she would rise to your bet.

“You know what! If we go out there and pull off one of the greatest comebacks in Champions League history I will die my hair” 

The team couldn’t believe what they are hearing. 

Your word was your bond and you never went back on your word. Alexia was a woman who when made a promise, always kept it. It made you both incredibly trustworthy but as the final whistle is blown you cannot help but think your good word had gotten you in trouble.

“We won” Alexia pulled you close as you walked over to where your families were.

“Baby, we’re fucked! We can’t go back on this” Inside you were panicking. Alexia’s promise could be temporary but yours was permanent.

“Don’t be such a wuss. How about this? You can pick my hair colour if I get it pick your tattoo”

You loved half of this plan. You already had a colour in mind but whilst you did trust Alexia with your life, you couldn’t guarantee that her choosing what is going to be on your body for the rest of your life is a good idea.

“Trust me, you’ll like what I have planned”

“Fine but you’re dying your hair pink”

Alexia’s eyes widen at your choice of colour but having been the person to suggest the idea, she couldn’t exactly go back on it now.

After playing Panama, the national team was given three days off before having to report back to camp. Alexia had told you that she had designed your tattoo with the help of Mapi and she had booked an appointment for you at the studio where her and the rest of the girls go for their tattoos. You had also made a call to your hair stylist and asked them if they could squeeze Alexia in the morning before you would get your tattoo in the afternoon.

“And this woman knows what she’s doing” on the outside Alexia was cool as a cucumber but as you walk down the streets of Barcelona she is holding onto your hand for dear life.

“She has been doing my hair for years Alexia. You are in safe hands”

You walked into the salon and greeted everyone as if they were family. Alexia stayed close behind you as you guide her to the chair in the fair back corner. 

“So what are we doing doing?” Your hair stylist ran her fingers through Alexia’s hair as your girlfriend looked at you through the mirror.

“Pink but a light pink”

“What! No! If I’m doing this then I’m doing it. I want it like Y/N’s after her first appointment post COVID”

“Ale, that was really pink” 

“I know, I loved it” 

The hair stylist did as she was told and a couple of hours later Alexia was walking out the salon almost unrecognisable.

Now it was your turn and you felt sick as you walked in the studio which was tucked down one of the side street in Sants.

“Does it hurt? It’s got to hurt, there is a needle piercing your skin at 100 miles an hour and it’s injecting ink. Oh God! Why did I even agree to do this, I can’t do this”

“Y/N take a breath” Alexia’s hands rested on your shoulders. She took a deep breath in, one which you copied almost immediately “I think you will really like my design and if you don’t then we will tell the team that I made you get it on your bum which they will believe because—“

“You are obsessed with my bum” you finished your girlfriend’s sentence.

“I am so they will believe me but please take a look at the design”

“Ok”

The artist, who you had learnt was also the owner, sat you down on the sofa as she showed you the design and at different sizes. You had no control over the smile on your face as you saw what Alexia had come up with.

“It’s like yours” 

“It is. I thought why not kill two birds with one stone. The tattoo would commemorate the final and it would be a matching one to mine”

The tattoo was perfect. It was an outline of a basic flower within a square. The pattern was seen all around Barcelona as it was a tile that covered the pavement. Alexia has the same one on her back with ‘made in’ above it. Yours wouldn’t have the text and instead of the ink being black it would be blue and red, Blaugrana the colours of FC Barcelona.

Once laid on the bench Alexia offered to hold your hand in case the pain is too much.

“Is it really going to hurt that much?” You ask the tattoo artist who reassured you that the pain would be nothing compared to some of the tackles you have been on the receiving end of over the years.

“Ale!” You smack her with your free hand.

“Sorry. It’s just that i’m used to seeing you as this tough cookie”

“I’m never a tough cookie around you, you make me soft” 

Alexia kisses you softly, the two of you forgetting your surroundings until the artist clears her throat.

“Soft cookie or tough cookie, I do need to to sit still or this won’t end well”

“Don’t say that” Don’t tell her that” you and Alexia say at the same time.

When the two of your arrived back to Los Rojas two days later the entire team was in shock and fascinated to see Alexia’s pink hair but only the barcelona players knew about your side of the bet. You removed your hoodie to show them the tattoo which you had decided to get on your arm, just about your elbow. 

[alalaya2]

Tim Drakes Sleeping habits save the earth

10 the Crows are coming

In Celtic Mythology Morrigan is either Three sisters or one Goddess with Three Forms the Triplicate goddess. First there is Badb the Crow she is the foreshadow of the carnage to come in war, next is Nemain the havoc of war, and then there is Morrigan the Phantom Queen herself she is Death and Victory of battle. The truth of the Infante Realm is that it’s just a ‘Genetic Quirk’ on her mother’s side of her Family to have Three forms. Clockwork’s were three different ages, she had forewarning of war, war on the battlefield and when the war is won. If Pala Gotham hadn’t been Cursed, she would show her other two forms as well. As it was Morrigan was covered in Crows feathers she could Feel the stir of the battle Brewing in the air.

The Realms seem to be holding its breath the normal ebb of the Ectoplasm was stilled. This part of her was the part that knew things before they happened. It was the part that told her that she would fade and come back. It was the part that told her that her children would suffer, and it was better than the alternative. Normally this part of her would bother her but not today. This was going to be a battle worth it, normally war is not something that she looks forward to she is a Ghost, and a Goddess. The Fighting part is never a big issue, in fact she loved a good fight. It’s the Carnage, the loss of family and life that she doesn’t like.

This Battle, there were no large grey areas. The GIW were the ones in the wrong and everyone that mattered knew it. In the last 200 years there was only a hand full of groups that really deserved the beating they received, not all the individuals mind you, but the group as a majority did. The Nazis were such a group of leaders that deserved the thrashing they received. Morrigan Bared her teeth in anticipation at the injustice being corrected. It was time to join her daughter and with their reunion her curse would be broken.

Gothemites like the Celtics of old were part of the reason there were sayings like ‘Fuck around and you will find out.’ Lady Gotham got her Temperament from her after all. As she stepped through the portal that would take her to the spot ever one would be meeting at, she knew The Green Lanterns and the Justice League were going to start a Riot.

Fright Knight had offered the use of a portal to get to them to Earth faster he was happy to see his father, but he wanted to save the young king first then he would Celebrate the return of his family. A Pre reunion fight would be a good way to start the Celebration, plus His sister would kill him if he started the party without her. About 50 Lanterns were ready to come with him. If they took too long to contact them the guardian would send more, and earths government would fall under their rule until a new world government could be created. Phantom would not be happy if things went that far, and Fright would eat his helmet if they couldn’t handle the upcoming fight before they got to that point.

He was looking forward to seeing how his sisters Knights would handle the fighting back before she had been Cursed, she had been one of the best fighters in the realm and was the first in line for the throne. If Parish had not taken out their father and Pala was injured when she fought him, she would probably be the Queen of the Infante Realms. As it was she would only accept the best of the best her people had to offer.

Pandora gave him a knowing look “I am looking forward to see how my sisters have progressed with their fighting skills as well I think they will take out more than your families Knights.”

Fright huffed “like my sister would choose weaklings as her Knights”

Pandora Smiled slyly “A wager then, my sisters have better fights you take me on a date your Knights fight better than my living sisters I’ll take you out.”

Fight Knights Sputter is echoed by Clockwork and Frostbite in the Ghost Zone. Fright Knight Straighten up and Bowed to Pandora “I’ll take your wager on one condition I would like to use this fight as our first courting Fight together.” He gently reached out to take one of her hands and squeezed a little.

Pandora squeezed back and Grind showing all her sharp teeth “I accept!”

“Finally it only took you two over a thousand years to get your shit together” yells Lazarus as he throws his hands up in exasperation. “You to have been Mooning over each other I was going to help Clockwork with his Matchmaking if you had taken any longer.”

The new couple Flinched Clockworks Matchmaking planes did work but they were not fun for the people who were involved.

Fight cleared his throat a little in embarrassment “The portal is Ready lets talk about this later” He shuffled a little not taking his hand off Pandora's.

Lazarus Smiled at his son knowingly but didn’t say anything.

The Bat Clan were fascinated as Lady Gotham and Alfred worked together in a terrifyingly competent way planning how to take out the laws and the GIW. Congress, Judicial and President Puck Velasco to Repeal the law as the were looking at the largest Revolution gathering in America since its beginning. President Nightingale had a team going though all current laws to make sure nothing else that would cause problems. It was going to take a while as there were a lot of Laws, and the UN was not going to let something like this slip through for any Country on Earth as the Anti-Echo Acts were breaking Galactic law.

With each moment getting closer, all the teams moving to take out every GIW building. Lady Gotham Seemed to be getting stronger less gaunt and her gray skin looking less chalky. Gotham had always had a muggy feeling in the air, it was always there Night or Day, Hot or Cold, Rain or Very rarely Sunshine it was fading. The Gotham Knights were on edge from it as they had Grown up with the feeling for most of there lives. Bruce had enough “what is going on?”

Dora blinked in surprise and looked up from the plans she was reading at Gotham. Her jaw drops in surprise “her curse has broken.”

This causes the rest of the clan to really look at her “How?” asked Bruce.

“No Idea” Dora’s face became predatorial “she is healing fast she should be fighting fit by the time we are ready to leave. Before she was cursed, she was the top fighter of the realms. This is going to be so fun.”

Gotham Smiled “Yes, it is I can Finally give my knights the full protection I have never been able to give them before. I’ll be at half strength by the meet up time it will take me a few months before I am back to full strength, but I’ve only been about 5% power for the last 200 years.”

Bruce Blinked again “That explains some things.” The Clan looks up at the portal opening in the Cave it was go time!

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