#fuck these schools. Maybe I dodged a bullet

[ftxfagula]

fuck these mfa programs that don’t have the decency to reject me with my actual name.

I keep getting ducking deadnamed even though I listed my actual fucking preferred name in the application several times. It feels a little like they didn’t even read my application materials. They don’t have the decency to fucking CHECK that they’re using the right name when rejecting someone. I know they’re probably combing through thousands of applications and sending rejections to nearly all of them but I paid to send my application, I worked hard on my essays, agonized over my writing sample, lost sleep and time over this application, and your admissions person doesn’t have the time to double check the names on the rejection emails?? What the fuck do you do when someone gets accepted?? Do you ruin their joy with your same laziness?? Do you overlook their identity to save a few seconds? Is decency the price of convenience? I’m already bummed out enough, why add salt to the wound? Why rub it in? Why remind me that I am just another statistic, meaningless?

[pokemonruby]

my favorite part of the fnaf movie was when it didn't play

[mingi-s-dimples]

OH EM GEEEE I LOVE YOUR FICS SO SO MUCH (be prepared to see me often hihi) can I request:

hongjoong x wooyoung x reader ? Preferably smut :D maybe where reader keeps annoying wj and hj and they teach her a little lesson AHHHH I love them so so much:(((

Can I be 💭 anon? :]

game over - topaz

REQUEST BY: 💭

pairing: best friends!topaz x fem!reader

rating: 18+

genre: non idol au, smut (lil filth)

summary: you and your boy best friends were playing video games in the living room, but you might have teased them.. a bit too much to their liking.

WC: 2.2k

warnings: wooyoung is a fucking brat (everyone knows this), bratty!reader, woo is teaching reader a lesson for cheating in the game, joong joining in, 3some, creampie, oral (both m&f), handjob, blowjob, sucking off, cum (lots), overstim, squirting, nipple sucking, big dick!topaz, joong is a lil bit confused at first, teasing, unprotected (wrap up irl!), completely consensual!, unedited, I'm sure I forgot something. edit: lil bit of pet names and some degradation? (fucker, slut)

Author's Note: MUAHHAHA 👹👹 I loved writing this pfffff. Thank you SO much anon for requesting this, had so much fun with it. I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I WAS SO BUSY WITH LIFE AND BACK TO SCHOOL THINGS 😭. I'll do better I promise. Topaz brainrot is EVERYTHING please send me more topaz requests. I hope I fulfilled your expectations, 💭! (send me an ask with your opinion HAHAHAH) love youuu (I am aware it's not necessarily Joong being annoyed by her cheating in the game but he joined in so he was equally annoyed HAHAHAH but he didn't show it -> this eas my view of Joong) -> I still don't feel like I put my whole power and creativity in but I promise y'all won't be disappointed with the kinktober requests 👹)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent the members in any way.

The living room was filled with the sounds of explosions, rapid gunfire, and the excited shouts of my two boy best friends, Wooyoung and Hongjoong. We were all huddled on the couch, controllers in hand, locked in an intense battle in our favorite video game. The stakes were high, and I could feel their determination radiating off them as they tried to outmaneuver each other—and me.

But little did they know, I had a secret weapon. A sly smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I casually pressed a hidden button combination, activating a cheat code I’d discovered online. Instantly, my character leapt ahead in the game, dodging bullets and landing impossible headshots with ease.

"Hey, how are you so good all of a sudden?" Wooyoung complained, glancing over at me suspiciously. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing something was off. I just shrugged, trying to hide my grin.

"Oh, you know," I replied nonchalantly, "Just skill."

They groaned in unison as I racked up another win, not letting on that I was secretly cheating. Winning felt great, but the real fun was seeing their frustrated faces every time they lost to me. I couldn't help but laugh as Wooyoung threw his hands up in exasperation and he muttered something about "beginner's luck."

If only they knew the truth—that their unbeatable friend wasn’t quite as fair as they thought. You absolutely loved teasing them, the frustrated looks on their faces were amusing you so bad. But in a moment of focusing on your game, you did a thoughtless move, Wooyoung seeing your hand nibbling at the controller.

"You fucker" he shouted. "ARE YOU CHEATING!?"

"NO! WHY WOULD I CHEAT." you said, trying to excuse yourself.

"Woo, it's not the first time I've seen her. Though, I kept it to myself, it was really fun to see her win" Hongjoong said, almost unbothered by the situation.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!" Woo said, frustrated. "Goddamn, you fucked all my stats with your cheating. STOP IT!"

"You'd have to make me, tho."

oh.

"What did you just say, y/n?" Joong exhaled, surprised at your words.

"Exactly what you heard. Do you want me to repeat? Y'all would need to make me stop cheating. Whatever it takes, I'm pretty unbothered, tho"

Wooyoung threw his controller on the coffee table and approached you. He pushed you on the sofa, scanning you from head to toe. He sat on the sofa, his right knee between your legs.

"Say it again."

"No"

"Say. It. Again."

"Make me stop cheating at your little stupid game, you fucker."

"Now that's what I wanted to hear."

Hongjoong came behind Woo and he pushed him away from you. Both you and the younger looked at him confused, but you both suddenly realised the two of you know something he doesn't.

"What!? It's not like I haven't fucked her already."

fuck.

"Joong, you better decide now if you wanna join or look. It's up to you."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y'ALL FUCKED!?" the older man shouted, worried about the situation at first.

"Like I just said, it's not the first time. Now, go away if you don't wanna join. Though, this little slut might actually like the two of us at the same time. I need to teach her a lesson" Wooyoung said, spreading your legs apart with his knee, pressing on your thigh.

But Hongjoong didn't back off. In fact, he came closer, looking contently at what Wooyoung was doing. Now.. you've never been completely honest with Joong. You and Wooyoung have been fucking for a while whenever you teased him one time too much in a day, and he always fucked you dumb as a punishment. Though.. was it really a punishment?

You were looking at the two men approaching you. Wooyoung was already working on your clothes. He started by slowly taking off your shirt, leaving you in only your bra. He then tugged a bit at your shorts, giving Hongjoong a nod to come closer. The younger moved away from you for a moment, letting Joong take the lead and he took off the shorts, revealing the wet spot on your panties.

"What a slut. Already? Were you perhaps getting wet only at the thought of me fucking you if you teased me, hm? Is that right? Come here you little fucker" Wooyoung said and pulled you closer, one hand under your ass and one on your waist. He lifted you and went to his bedroom, where he dropped you off on the bed. The sheets got wrinkly and as you backed off to the headboard, Hongjoong took of his shirt. He was.. hot. Hot as fuck. Whenever you saw him without a shirt, or going to take a shower in only his briefs something in you made you want to crawl on the walls. But seeing him like that.. undressing for you, riled you up in a way only Wooyoung had ever did.

"Now.. what should I do with you, mm?" the younger said, approaching you. He pushed your hands above the headboard, holding them in place with one of his hands. His other hand went down on your body, and while he started planting soft, sloppy kisses, his hand reached your inner thigh, finding it's way to your dripping core. His kisses trailed from your neck and to your collarbones, where he left dark, purple marks. Then as his fingers started slowly rubbing on your folds, he stood up and sat between your legs, looking back at Hongjoong who was, waiting for a sign from Woo. That was the sign.

He undressed himself almost completely, being left in his briefs, from which a huge bulge could be seen. His cock was straining against the fabric, threatening to spring out at any moment.

"Now... baby. Who do you want first?" Woo scoffed.

"Both"

"Ohh, so you wanted this to happen, hm?" the younger said as he spread your legs out once again for the night and gave you soft kisses on your thighs, then within one move of his hand you were left bare in front of him, dripping on the linen. "What was going through that little mind of yours? Did you want both of us fucking you?"

"Y-yes" you mumbled, shivers being sent up your spine as he was now fingers deep in you, hitting all your sweet spots. You were squirming under him, his body pressed onto yours, but it didn't last long. He went down on you, licked his fingers and started eating you out. His tongue riled you up so bad, you started gripping the sheets to not squirm under him too much. He hated that, cause he couldn't eat you out how he wanted. He loved tasting every inch of you, feeling up your insides and sucking on your clit. Everything he did made you eventually move, to which he bit your inner thigh for a short second and held you down even more forcefully.

Hongjoong was also helping himself in the background, you were watching him contently between all your whimpers and moans. He was lazily stroking his length, waiting for an opportunity to jump in. Though, you didn't let him wait too long as you nodded to him.

"Come here, don't stand b-by yourself" your breath hitching from all that was happening between your legs. You murmured, "Let me h-help you" and as he was close enough to you, your hand started pumping him. The view he had was marvelous, you were being eaten out by Woo and he was stroked by your little hand, but little did he know it was about to get better. He let out some soft whimpers and as you pumped him two more times, you pulled him closer by his thigh and took his dick in your mouth. His cock was girthy, he was stretching your mouth good. At first, you slowly sucked on his tip, licking up his length from the base to the shaft. He didn't even know where to put his hands, in the end he rested one on your head, slowly guiding you to suck him properly. You gave the tip soft kisses then went all out and took his dick up your throat, slowly choking on it. You could hear him hold his moans back, but as your own moans were muffled by his dick deep down your throat, he could feel them revrebrate through his body. You could see how he was close to finishing, but you couldn't properly focus on him at the given moment.

"You taste so good, babe" Wooyoung whispered, and as his finger went to your clit and started rubbing it, you let out a loud moan, at which Hongjoong came undone in your mouth, surprising you. You slurped everything up and sucked him off for a short second to gather all the cum dripping from his tip and you swallowed, looking him in the eyes.

Wooyoung looked up to see why you were moving so much, to which he was greeted by the sight of you now sloppily kissing Joong, the position you were in not being the best. He saw the cum stains on your hand.

"Haha, it didn't take him that long to finish. Aren't you such a little slut, hm?" Wooyoung said and as he pumped his fingers inside of you a few more times and rubbed your clit, you creamed on his fingers beautifully, to which he sucked your juices off his hand once again.

"Now.."

"Joong.. please come here. Baby, what do you think about being fucked by both, hm?" Wooyoun said as he lifted and put you on his now bare dick, his back leaned on the headboard. "Tell me. What do you say?"

"P-please, Woo... Joong. I want b-both of you"

"Good girl. You didn't have a choice, anyways."

As he lined his length to your dripping cunt, Hongjoong also climbed on the bed and got a hold of your leg, pulling himself close to you.

"Babe.. remember this"

Wooyoung said and he started rubbing his tip on your folds.

"You'll always be..."

He pushed only his tip in.

"My lovely fucktoy."

And he bottomed out.

To which Hongjoong followed his movements, he pushed himself right in, gripping on your waist as he started wildly thrusting into you. You could feel that he wanted to do this for a while, the way he was fucking you was riling you on the walls. Wooyoung's dick was filling you up so good, girthy and.. the huge length hitting your cervix almost every time he bottomed down.

"F-fuck, you feel so good" the older one said.

"R-right? Look at her, fucked by both of us. She needs to be taught a lesson, right? What did I tell you about cheating, mm?" Wooyoung said and started nibbling and sucking on your nipples. "Hm? what did I say?"

"Y-you said that I-i should not- ngh, do it"

"And why did you do it?"

"I-i love when you fuck m-me like this. Like there's no tomorrow" you said and engaged in a steamy kiss with him, your ass slapping on both men's cocks, taking them up so good. The only sounds you could hear in the whole room was Hongjoong groaning and your own muffled moans as you were filled by two dicks at once.

"B-babe. That's so good. Keep it going, I'm close" Woooyoung whined, and as he pushed himself into your aching cunt a couple more times, he came in you, filling you up with his load.

"Yes, that's good. Take it all up" to which he continued with "I'm not done yet." and he started wildily fucking you again with his once again hard cock.

Hongjoong was also close, his thrusts became sloppier and they didn't have any rythm. He pumped himself into you a couple more times and bottomed down, gave you some soft kisses, trailing your spine and came in you, staying like that for a minute.

Wooyoung didn't show any signs of stopping. You could feel your tummy getting thighter and your clit aching harder.

"N-no, ngh, please, a bit slower" you mumbled.

"No? I didn't have enough fun yet" the younger one whispered and he pounded heavily into you and make you squirt all over him and the linen.

"See, that's what I'm talking about."

"Holy fuck" Joong murmured.

"See, Joong? She's just not the innocent girl you've known until now. Did you see just how good she took you?"

"Y-yes" he said, a little bit shy.

"The fuck are you turning your head around for? Ah, you're shy... for what? You just saw her squirt all over me, haha" the younger one scoffed.

"Don't worry. You'll see her like this many more times, you'll get used to it. Right, baby?" Wooyoung said, lifting you and hugging you thightly.

"Y-yes" you murmured, still dizzy from all that happened a moment ago.

"Good girl. Joong, let's get her washed up."

"Up for a 2nd round?" you said confidently.

"Thought you'd never ask" Hongjoong said, making the two of you laugh.

Networks:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz

[starry-bi-sky]

part five of "clone danny"

Danny returns home later that night with a dislocated shoulder from Skulker and his fair share of scrapes and bruises after facing off with a handful of ectoplasmic animal shades. (All of them stuffed inside his thermos with Skulker that he'll toss in the Zone tomorrow after school.)

He shoves his mask back into his pocket, and hides his bat in the bushes at the side of his house under his window, then rounds back around the front to go through the door.

...Mainly because if Bruce Wayne was still awake, it'd be suspicious if Danny made it home without ever using the front door. He sneaks back in, and slooowly starts closing the door.

"You're back late." Says a surly, young voice that startles Danny into slamming the door instead.

"Fucking--!" He cuts himself and breathes in slowly, trying to slow his elevated heart rate before looking over his shoulder to see who the hell scared him.

Glaring at him like an upset parent would, with eyes cutting like sea glass, is Wayne the Sequel... or perhaps he was the seventh sequel. Danny is silent for a moment. "...You're up early." He says, maybe a bit petulant. "Does your dad know you're up this late?"

"Father permitted me to stay up and wait for your return, actually." Damian sniffs, and if anyone could make 'scowling' into a vocal tone, Danny would have thought it'd be Sam. But Damian beat her to it.

Danny turns around slowly to face him, arms crossing. "Yeah, uh-huh." He nods slowly, "Like I'm gonna believe that. Do you normally sit in a random stranger's kitchen and interrogate them when they get home?" He tilts his head for good measure.

"No." Damian says. (He is, in fact, lying.) His eyes narrow at Danny as if he had committed a terrible crime by being in his presence. He looks down to Danny's hands. "Father said you left with a bat. Where is it?"

"I lost it." Danny replies, biting the inside of his lip to prevent himself from smiling.

"You... lost it?"

"Yup." He says blandly. "Whoops."

-------

Danny goes up to his room immediately after that and collapses on his mattress to pass out for the next three hours until his alarm goes off.

Much to Danny's luck, Bruce and his son are literally only there for a few days, and he spends as much time during it to avoid them like a plague (while also dealing with his dislocated shoulder, which should reliably heal in half the time thanks to his ectocontamination). Damian does whatever during the day since he doesn't go to Casper High.

Something to note as we get out of the 'fic'-y part of this post -- Daniel J. Fenton was, largely, the sexual awakening to many people in his grade in Casper High School, including many A-Listers. However he is still "Daniel Fenton" so many of his classmates will take that fact to their grave. And to their personal friend groups.

Does this have any impact going forward? Not really so far, no.

Dodging a Wayne-sized bullet doesn't mean that Danny can dodge the Wes-sized bullet, and finds himself nearly nose-to-nose with an irate Wes Weston who demands to know where he was last nice.

Of which Danny, not needing to drop his smartass comments in front of the guy who already knows his ID, responds by calling him a jealous ex and sidestepping him completely. following up with if Wes isn't careful, then Danny might just think that Wes has a crush on him

(Wes does, in fact, have a crush on Daniel J. Fenton. He will take this secret to his grave.)

Ellie shows up in his kitchen, sitting on the table with her legs crossed while chatting amiably with Bruce Wayne a few days later when Danny returns from school. When Danny asks how she got inside (the door is typically locked), Ellie smiles toothily and fangily, and happily tells him that she came in through the window. And that he needs to tell his parents to invest in locks. She has long hair the same length as him. It's like looking into a mirror, one he is welcome to see into.

It is endearingly Ellie-like to know that she all but broke into his house, and seeing his sister-clone-twin relieves some of his tension. Only a little though when Bruce Wayne was still in his house.

Normally he sits and talks for hours with Ellie. But instead he takes it to the stairs, telling Ellie that he'll be in his room when she's done talking to Mister Wayne. He is a stubborn ass who doesn't even bother to ask where Wayne the Sevquel is.

(He runs into Wayne a one or two more times the following nights. Wayne asks him where his bat is on the second night, his son says he lost it. Danny agrees with him, and Wayne asks with a touch of concern what he'll do if he comes across a ghost.)

(Danny shrugs and says he hasn't before. And comes back home with a bruise the size of a large cat on his hip and a couple more along his torso and legs. his knees hurt from rough jumps with poor landings. Damian is waiting when he gets home. They exchange a few barbs and Danny hightails it up to his room.)

(Danny's face is obscured by the lack of lights and the shadows in the corner. Its the only reason he feels even a modicum of comfort in exchanging a few words with Wayne.)

(Ellie is waiting outside for him the day she meets Wayne, and asks him if Wayne knows. Danny says he wouldn't be avoiding him if he did. Wayne probably wouldn't be as nice as he was now if he knew.)

("You don't know he won't be nice after finding out." Ellie points out while he's digging his bat out from the neighbor's bushes this time.)

("He's not me, Ell." He says, frowning. "We don't know that.")

(Ellie sighs sadly, and Danny feels a tinge of guilt. "You can tell him if you want," he offers, "you don't have to hold back on my behalf.")

("I want to tell him with you, though. C'mon, we're twins.")

(That night Danny avoids breaking his other arm after a run in with a large ecto-serpent. Ellie nearly rips out its tongue for it. She's more ghost-like than he is. Possessive and violent and very, very passionate. As if he wouldn't do the same if pressed.)

(Ellie gives Danny a piggyback ride home, the wind filtering through the grills of his mask and force-feeding him the taste of freedom. Damian is there while they sneak back in, stifling their laughter under the meat of their palms.)

(Danny may or may not have reached out and ruffled his hair in his joviality when he passed him by. Grinning painfully when Damian bats at his hand like a disgruntled kitten. His hair feels like feathers and the sensation sinks itself deep into Danny's star-in-the-sky sized core-obsession like a suggestion.)

(He might regret it in the morning. It will fade in time after the Waynes leave.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Hi Stef. Regarding your requests, I would love some Austin x Reader fics where he falls for a Latina who's liked him for a long time and finally acknowledges her after revealing to him that she hasn't dated anyone because she's afraid to be heart broken.

Ask and you shall recieve...

Fire On Fire (An Austin Butler x Latina!Reader Smut!)

Warning: SMUT, CUSSING, THE WHOLE SHEBANG!

Notes: I will include translations either near the Spanish text or at the bottom, so don't y'all worry about that. @12joeywheelerfangirl I hope you love it and sorry it took a while for me to post. I wasn't having luck coming up with ideas for this until I heard this song by Sam Smith and then it was just smutty fun from there.

I couldn’t fucking believe what I was hearing. “Wuh-what?”

“I said I like you,” Gavin said nervously. “And I wanna take you out sometime.” When I first met Gavin on Bumble I thought maybe, just maybe, I finally made another friend. Someone I could talk to, besides Austin. We’d hung out a couple times and things were going pretty well… then he dropped the ‘L’ word. I suddenly felt that all too familiar brick wall build up around me.

“Look you’re a great guy and all but…”

“But?”

“But I’m not looking for romance,” I said. At least not with you. I added silently. “I just wanted more friends to hang with, and talk to… I’m sorry if I made you think differently.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, but then he sighed and took out his phone.

“What’re you doing?” I asked.

“Texting my buddy, Rich, to let him know I owe him a hundred bucks,” he said.

“Wait you betted on me?”

“Rich said you look like a prude but I said I could bed you within three dates,” he confessed. “Now thanks to you I’m out a hundred bucks… unless you wanna keep it casual?” He ran his hand along my thigh. I threw it away instantly.

“Fuck off!” I snapped at him feeling like I was gonna throw up my lunch. “God I thought you were different. But you’re just a sleeze bag like all the rest.”

His hand went flying across my face. A hot sting radiated through my cheek. Gavin was glaring at me now, and was suddenly hovering over me. “Please you think anyone else is gonna want you? Huh?? You ugly ass bi―!”

He was cut off by someone yanking him off of me. Austin stood there looking like he was gonna kill a motherfucker. Austin then reached back and swung his fist towards Gavin’s face. Gavin fell back. “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

“Someone who’s willing to do anything to keep Y/N safe now back the fuck up and get out!” Gavin smirked standing up.

“I get it you just wanted someone to play with while you fucked this piece of―!” Austin then grabbed him by the neck and dragged him to the door.

“IF I CATCH YOU ANYWHERE NEAR Y/N I SWEAR IT’LL BE THE LAST FUCKING THING YOU DO!” Austin slammed the door and placed the locks in place. He then turned back to me and practically ran towards me. He sat down beside me on the sofa and wrapped his arms around me. “You okay baby?”

I nodded. “Estoy bien.”* Austin always had a way of making me comfortable enough to let my spanish out, even if he didn’t really understand me.

“The fuck was his problem anyway?” Austin asked drapping my legs over his lap.

“He asked me out,” I said. “And...and I said I didn’t want to…” Not with him. “Guess I dodged a bullet.”

“Yeah, yeah you did,” he said bringing his lips to my head. “You deserve better than that trash any day.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I sighed.

“Y/N,” he got an all too familiar tone to his voice. One that let me know I fucked up, again. “I thought you were doing better with this...I can’t believe you’re still talking crap about yourself. It’s been years. We’re not in high school anymore… what other people say and think don’t mean shit...but what you say and think about yourself...it means everything.”

“You’re right Aus, but is it really such a crime that I don’t want to risk having my heart shattered? Is it that bad that I just wanna avoid getting hurt like that again and again?” Tears were bursting from my eyes then.

“You can’t possibly know that would happen,” Austin said.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” I sniffed. “Lo se porque niguno de ellos son tu!”* I cried. “No puedo enamorame con otro cuando estoy enamorada contigo, y nomas contigo!”*

“Y/N you’re rambling again,” Austin said cupping my face with his hands. “Breathe a bit and start over sugar.” I did. I swallowed deep breath after deep breath until my heart and lungs calmed down enough for me to think clearly about what I was gonna say. I never told Austin my feelings before, even though they’ve been there since ninth grade. I was always too afraid of screwing up what we have...and I was still afraid then, so I said nothing.

Instead I did something far far worse… I leaned in and crashed my lips onto his. Austin’s hands left my face and for a second I thought my worst fear had finally come. But...then I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me close against his body and deepened our kiss.

As Austin continued to meld our mouths together I suddenly found myself laying back on the sofa, pulling him on top of me. Austin pulled back and smiled at me. “By the way, I love you too, sugar.”

“You...you understood me?” He nodded. “Wha-? Since when?”

“I been teaching myself, and asking your family for help ever since tenth grade. After that son of a bitch Kent started showing interest in you.” He reached up and brushed my cheek with his fingers. “I remember I wanted to rip his head off. I was so irritated all the time whenever he came near you. When he asked you to winter formal...I knew… I knew why I couldn’t stand even the idea of you and him. So at your families Christmas party that year, I asked your dad if he could start teaching me spanish. He told your mom, and suddenly I was surrounded by teachers. Even now they test me to see if I remember.” Austin laughed.

“You learned spanish for me? And mami and papi never said…”

“I asked them not to ‘cause I wanted it to be surprise,” he said. “And I wanted to be able to surprise you with certain words.”

“What?”

“Te amo, Y/N,”* he whispered. “Y…”* He sighed. “Sorry if I butcher this a bit. I haven’t been practicing as often as I used to.” He said. “Uh… Quiero pasar mi vida contigo.”*

It wasn’t perfect spanish but it was perfect enough for me.I reached up and tangled my fingers with his hair as I brought his face down to mine. It was fire on fire after that.

Austin rut against me as his tongue tangled with mine. After a while he pulled back and attached his lips to my neck. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed and sucked at my flesh. The feeling reverberated through me leading my hands to the buttons on his shirt. As my fingers worked down the shirt one of his hand snaked up and gently squeezed at my breast. When the last button popped open my hand ran up the skin of his abs, over his chest, and up to his shoulders to push the fabric from him. He pulled back and shrugged it off, tossing it to the floor. I lifted my arms and let him lift my shirt over my head. Once it was gone I sat up and brought my lips to his chest.

As I kissed and licked at his pecks, giving extra love to the skin above his heart, he reached behind me and unclasped my bra. “So fucking beautiful,” Austin muttered lustfully. I smirked and continued laying a trail of kisses on his body, stopping at just above the waistband of his pants. I unbuckled his belt as my mouth began to water at thought of what it held. I popped the button and pulled down the zipper almost impatiently. Austin stood up and pulled his pants down taking his boxer briefs with it. All that rutting he did clearly worked it’s magic for he sprang out hard and thicker than I thought he would be, smacking his belly.

I reached out and wrapped my hand around his length. I tugged at him for a while before leaning in. I licked at the beads of precum on his tip and gave it a slight kiss before sliding him into my mouth. Austin trembled and let out a slight growled tangling his fingers in my hair while thrusting gently. As I sucked him off the most beautiful noises left his mouth, almost musical. I think he would’ve completely lost his mind had he not pushed me back.

“Your turn sugar,” he said huskily. He got down on his knees and reached to pulled my leggings down, taking my panties with them. He tossed them aside and brought my hips closer to the edge of the couch. He placed my legs over his shoulders, licked his already swelling lips, and leaned down.

A hiss left me as his lips connected with my core. In that moment as his tongue continued to lick and flick at my clit I couldn’t help but think: Is there anything he’s not mind-blowing at?! Moans escaped my lips that made Austin chuckle, his breath hitting me at my most sensative parts.

“Damn I fucking love those sounds you make,” he said. “Can’t wait to hear what comes when I’m inside you.”

He gave my clit one more kiss before he stood up. I readjusted, laying down once again. Austin laid down on top of me wrapping my legs around his waist. His tip ghosted at my entrance sending an ache through me. An ache that could only be cured one way.

As if reading my mind he reached down, placed his lip at my opening and slowly started to push in. As he stretched me bit by bit I clung to him, damn near digging my nails into his back. “Fuck!”

“You’re so tight baby,” he muttered. “Is… is this..?”

“Woulda thought that was obvious,” I said as he continued to push further in. “Never actually- gah fuck- dated anyone before this…”

He finally bottomed out then. “I’ll go slow for you. You just tell me when you want me to really get goin’.” I nodded and he started to thrust slowly and gently. It stung at first but as he continued to move inside me it started feel more and more remarkable. I started moaning again.

“Fuh-faster… I need you to go faster...and huh-harder.”

“Okay,” Austin kissed me once more. “Okay.”

He pulled back and slammed into me, a loud smack emanating from his balls hitting me. The feeling that replaced the sting only grew stronger...more fierce. “OH FUCK AUS!”

“You take me so well sugar,” he moaned taking my hand and placing it on my stomach. A bulge hit my palm repeatedly from inside. “See? I’m getting’ way in there.” He shifted slightly and hit me on a different spot, one that had me screaming. “Like it there? Like it when I fuck you right in that spot?”

“Y-YES, GOD, FUCK YES!” He continued to thrust into that spot which made the tension building in my middle grow more and more. My toes started to curl and my back started to arch. “God I’m gonna...I’m gonna.”

I let go not even a second later, covering him in my juices. Austin was more slippery now and was growing more erratic with his thrusting. “You came all over me darlin’,” he said. “Now I think it’s my turn to come all over you.”

He moaned louder and louder as he began shuttered on top of me.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum so hard,” he groaned before pulling out and exploding all over me, covering me in his seed. He continued to moan as he tugged every last drop out of his body. He collapsed on top of me and kissed my swollen lips. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” I whispered, both of us completely breathless.

Our fire continued to burn after that, with constant repeats of that moment (except in a bed, and with Austin finishing in and on different places) and Austin continued his spanish lessons with my family. The latest phrase he learned? “Casate conmigo?”*

I smiled and nodded crazily. He slipped on his mom’s engagement ring and kissed me hard. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” I said before deciding to give him my own spanish lesson. “By the way,” I brought my lips to his ear. “Estoy embarazada.”*

“What’s that mean?” He asked looking at me confused.

“Why don’t you ask papi to translate that… I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love what it means.” He did and our fire burned on.

TRANSLATION: *I'm fine.

*I know because none of them are you!

*I can't fall in love with someone else when I'm in love with you, and only you!

*I love you.

*And...

*I want to spend my life with you.

*Marry me?

*I'm pregnant.

[berriweb]

╰┈➤ ❝ 3:19 AM ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. earth-42 miles morales x fem! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. both y/n and miles smoke weed, short mentions of some injuries

: ̗̀➛ a/n. feel free to laugh and correct me on any fucked up spanish because i highly doubt google translate will be accurate and 4 years of high school spanish can only get one so far /3 the 42! miles brain rot I’m suffering from is LETHAL

Every few minutes a gust of wind would send shivers down your spine and poke chill bumps into your skin as air blew through the cracked bedroom window. You did your best to block out the chaotic sounds of sirens and the occasional arguments and fights breaking out in the streets below the apartment complex by turning up the speaker playing soothing music ever so slightly to combat them. Striding across the room, the smell of lavender, citrus, and maybe just a hint of cherry blossoms filled your nostrils and the room as you carefully lit incense and candles scattered across the desk in the corner of the room, before using the same lighter to re-ignite the joint hanging from between your pointer and middle finger.

Bringing it up to your lips, you took a long drag before releasing it and making an attempt to blow towards the crack and avoid stinking up the room with the stench of weed and burning paper, hence the candles and cracked window.

When you flopped back onto the made bed after setting your joint in the ash tray, your gaze turned from the dimly lit ceiling to the glowing red alarm clock sitting on the nightstand next to you, 3:19 AM.

Reaching for your phone charging next to it, you squinted at the screen before using Face ID to unlock it, your previous messages with Miles already being displayed seeing as you couldn’t stop checking to see if there were any updates.

5:15 PM

M&M <3: Something came up, got some business with Uncle Aaron. I’m going to be late.

You: we still on for movie night ? :(

M&M <3: Of course, wait for me til then? Give me til 11.

You: i’ll keep your spot warm :) stay safe, i love you &lt;3

M&M &lt;;3: Te amo, Ma.

5:19 PM

You: oh!!! tell aaron i said hey 2, haven’t been around to visit n a while😞

12:01 AM

You: everything good?

12:45 AM

You: a little worried, txt me back when you can :(

2:00 AM

You: ?

Despite trying your best to ignore the nightly chaos ensuing outside, it was becoming increasingly hard to do so when your boyfriend of many years had recently admitted to being the Prowler and spending most of the nights he wasn’t with you out in the city carrying out orders on behalf of Kingpin, especially when he’d texted you earlier that day planning to be back by 11 at latest for a movie night, only to follow up a few hours later saying that something had come up.

He’d assured you when he first broke the news that he’d always come back home to you, but that never stopped you from worrying every once in a while that something awful would occur that was out of his control. Especially when he wasn’t replying to any of your attempts to check up on him.

What if he’d been captured? What if it was a mission Aaron sent him on and he somehow screwed it up? What if someone had screwed him over? A rouge villain? An assassination gone wrong? A stray bullet he couldn’t dodge fast enough? What if-

Creak.

Your unintentional spiraling into horrific ‘what if’ scenarios was interrupted by the sound of rusted metal grinding against another, your head tilting up in less than a second to see a clawed hand further pushing up your window frame.

‘Speak of the devil.’

The relieved expression on your face couldn’t be hidden as you nearly jumped up from your spot on the bed to his side as he crawled through your window, with an admittedly suspicious gait when he stepped back from the window.

“You’re back! What took so long?” You chirped as you stood. Normally you would’ve avoided bombarding him with questions as soon as he’d come back, seeing as he’d likely already been dealing with enough before arriving, but he’d never come home this late before.

The plates on his mask pulled back to show his gorgeous, as usual, yet tired face behind it, exhaustion pulling at the ends of his lips. “Lo siento mami, tomó más tiempo de lo que pensaba, I got caught up with some bad people,” he hummed while carefully removing his clawed hands and leaving them resting in your desk, the rest of his geared suit coming off after until he was left in just his shirt and some nice sweatpants. Without all of the extra gear, you had a better chance to size him up before he pulled you into his embrace.

You suspected he kept it brief to avoid/distract you from worrying about him, which was hard to do when you noticed the slight discoloration on his ankle when part of his pant leg moved and his attempt to not put as much pressure on that foot when he walked, paired with the way his nose scrunched when he moved and his right side of his torso flexed.

Part of you admired his dedication to protecting you from knowing too much about what he did as the Prowler and trying to be a role model for you. The other part of you thought he was a fool for not letting you in and allowing you to help, which you often voiced your opinion on.

“They had you at it for hours? Are you alright?” You buried your face into his chest to get a whiff of his cologne and what you were sure was a hint of blood and outside. He mirrored your actions by resting his head on top of yours, making you appreciate past you for choosing to oil your scalp earlier that night.

“I’m alright, but why are you still up? I’ve told you about-” “I’m awake-” you cut your boyfriend off before he could start to lecture you, which you didn’t want to hear no matter how much you loved his accent, “because my boyfriend promised to be home for movie night but instead left me worrying for his safety all night then has the nerve to lie to me when he finally makes it back hours later.”

A look you’d learned was his attempt at hiding his guilty conscience crossed his face before he rose a brow at your accusation of lying. “Wait, wha-” this time he cut himself off when your arm slithered back from around his waist and you used to fingers to dig into his side, causing Miles to jerk back and wince, holding his side.

"¡Hijo de puta! What’s your deal Y/N?! Eso duele como el infierno! Jesus-”

You tried (and failed) to hold back from giggling at his irritated gaze before grabbing him by both hands and leading him to your bed, practically forcing him to sit down at the edge, not that he tried to fight back.

“Consider it karma, Miles. If you’re gonna go out and do dangerous shit at least don’t lie to my face about it,” you tsked, kneeling down as you ignored the pointed glare and mean mug he sent your way as his nose scrunched and he muttered something under his breath about you being cruel. Lifting the side of his shirt up, you eyed the damage his assumed rivals must have caused before he came, black and purple bruises littering his side in different colors and shades. You sucked your teeth, looking up at him with narrowed eyes which he only responded with by looking off to the side and biting the inside of his cheek.

Moving down, you pulled his pant leg up to see matching colors on his ankle, and given his previous limp you’d have to take a guess as to what happened. He hardly ever let you treat him in any capacity, which was mostly due to him feeling the need to always be treating you, but judging from the look in your eyes Miles knew he didn’t really have a choice this go round.

“It looks sprained, and those bruises are gonna take forever to heal. Do you need an ice pack?” “Please.” You we’re already rising to your seat, not waiting for a response before you quickly and quietly left your room to go retrieve one from the kitchen without waiting your parent(s).

When you returned, you were carrying an ice pack, along with some bandages to keep it in place and a small snack just in case he hadn’t eaten in a while, and knowing how he gets when he prioritizes being the Prowler over everything else, he likely hasn’t. He’d taken the liberty of finishing off the rest of your joint, evident by the evidence still being in his hand and the smoke blown into your mouth when you leaned in for a quick deep kiss before kneeling once again to work on his ankle the best you could. You were by no means a professional, but your attempt was better than leaving it alone and your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to.

As you worked in silence the initial tension in the air seemed to ease up, partially due to the weed, but you couldn’t help but still be slightly bothered by how worried you’d been for him. Yeah, he made it back relatively okay this time despite his lateness, but what about next time, and the time after that?

“Y/N.”

Miles’ voice pulled you out of your thoughts, mainly due to the fact that he hardly ever called you by your first name, and you realized that you’d been quietly staring at the floor for a while after finishing up treating his injuries. You could feel him reach down to grab both your hands and pull you up to his feet until you were standing between both of his legs looking down at him.

“You worry too much,” he started, but that didn’t help at all to ease your mind. “You don’t worry enough! Miles, you were supposed to be here hours ago. How can you expect me to just sit around and go about my normal routine knowing that you’re out their risking your life nearly every night? I can’t do that for you and you know that!”

Miles felt guilt creeping up his throat, this felt like a long overdue conversation. “I don’t expect that of you, but what do you want me to do mami? I can’t just drop out and you know that. All of this- I do it for you, for us, you know I can’t just back out now, it’s my only sense of normalcy ever since-” he didn’t finish his sentence, but you didn’t need him to. You couldn’t bear to look him in eyes, your heartstrings tugging painfully at the reminder of how he ended him the way he was now.

You’d been there for him through the worst of it, when his father died, when the city went to shit. It was awful for a very long time, your only glimpse of hope being when Miles seemingly started regaining a sense of who he was long after the fact. You’d been happy for him, encouraging him to go out more and constantly reminding him that you were there for him. Unbeknownst to you, the “healthy” outlet he’d been using to cope with the fact was sneaking out with his Uncle to commit crimes on behalf of some of the worst known criminals. You’d be lying if you said you approved, that you were okay with what he did and that you thought Miles was too, but you’d learned to accept it on account of the fact that there really wasn’t any other option. You knew you couldn’t even entertain the thought of not always being by his side, you needed him just as much as he needed you.

You couldn’t argue with his point and couldn’t hold eye contact, trying to look off to the side to avoid his hardened gaze but he was quick to gently take hold of your chin and turn your head back to him, making a warm feeling crawl up your neck.

“Siento haberte preocupado, mi amor. Do you remember the promise I made you when I first told you?” He asked.

It was a random callback, but you remember it as clear as day, the night you’d shown up at Miles’ house to surprise him with a gift you found at the mall which reminded you of him, sitting in his room awaiting his return only for him to crawl in through the window clad in Prowler gear mid-unmasking. You swore you could still occasionally hear the sound of your jaw hitting the floor.

“You promised that you’d never keep another secret from me,” you recalled with a small sigh, feeling your shoulders drop.

“And?”

“And…that no matter what you’d always come back home to me.”

“Dije que nunca te dejaré esperando a alguien que nunca volverá a casa,” Miles’ hands caressed your sides before falling still at your hips. “I promised to always, no matter what, come back, no?”

Your hands fell down to his shoulders, tilting your head until your foreheads were touching and you could feel his breathe hitting your collarbone.

“I’m sorry baby, I just…”

“No need to apologize, mami, I don’t blame you.”

His words ease your concern, but you know that the issue is too big for one conversation to solve. At the same time, however, it’s also out of concern.

Deciding that you’ve stressed yourself out more than enough for one night, you move away from him to flop back onto your bed before tugging on his arm to bring him down with you. Miles wraps his arms around your waist to bring you closer and you throw a leg over both of his while being careful to not hurt any of his already injured parts, burying your face into the crook of his neck while your free hand reaches to run your nails across the part for his braids.

“They got you good, huh? Messed up your pretty braids n’ everything, they were so neat,” you mumbled, making Miles chuckle.

“You can always do ‘em again for me, huh mami? You always do them the best.”

“And you missed out of movie night, I had the best trilogy picked out…” he could practically feel your pout on his neck.

“How ‘bout I make it all up to you tomorrow? No school, I’ll take you shopping and we’ll go eat someplace nice. Then we can watch all the movies you want, I can even find a decent theater for us, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that…” judging by the slur, he knew you were practically out for the night, which was confirmed by the yawn that followed your words. He let a small smile tug at his lips as he kissed your forehead before pulling the blankets up to covered the two of you.

“Buenas noches, mami.”

“G’night baby.”

[scarisd3ad]

Jump then fall | Steve Harrington x reader

Chapter one - everything has changed

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Summary - after 7 years of being split apart from your childhood friend Steve you return to hawkins after your younger sisters tragic death, and parents messy divorce. But the Steve you came back to isn’t the same Steve you left behind.

"Steve!" Steve was surrounded by two of his new friends, Tommy and his girlfriend Carol, as I skipped up to him. They were both in 8th grade like Steve. carol looked me up and down as I stood in front of the trio. Steve had an annoyed look on his face from the moment I opened my mouth. Ever since he became friends with Tommy and Carol, it seemed as if I was just another inconvenience for Steve. "What?" the words are harsh as they come out of his mouth, almost like he was stabbing me right in the heart. But despite the achy feeling in my chest, I continued to talk. "wanna come over after school? My dad is working, so he won-"

"God, you are so annoying," Steve scoffs, which makes my brow furrow together in confusion. Steve has been a sweet boy ever since the moment I met him in kindergarten, but the moment he entered the 8th grade it was like a switch flipped inside of him. He no longer cared about his mother or his real friends he only care about popularity, girls, and being an absolute asshole to everyone around him. "Wh-what?" the words come out quiet and meek, the confusion still setting in as my eyes flicked from him to Tommy and then to Carol. Both his friends chuckled, probably because of the tears pooling in my eyes. "I said, you are fucking annoying! can't you go find someone else to cling onto?"

It seemed like time had stopped. Everyone around us stared, some laughed, and some whispered. Was I sent into a parallel universe because this wasn't the Steve I had grown to know? My chest heaved as I blinked back tears. "I-I'm sorry I thought-I thought-" I couldn't get the words out fast enough because Steve was shouting again before I could finish my sentence. "What that I was, your friend? I only hung out with you 'cause I felt bad that your sister died" This wasn't about Sara. He didn't need to bring her up. He knew it was a sore subject. The wound was still fresh. He knew it was still fresh. This felt like he was sticking a knife into that barely healed wound.

I want to punch him; I want to tackle him down to the ground and kill him just because he brought up my sister. "Your mom didn't even like you, so why should I? She dodged a bullet, leaving you." Maybe it was my mind making it up, but it felt like everyone around me was cackling at his words, at my tears, at my fists clenching and unclenching themselves. it hurt, it hurt so bad because I trusted him. I thought he was my best friend, but he wasn't. he was an evil lying bitch.

Before he can say anything else, I'm running away. I ran out of the school and to the group of telephones that stood outside against the school. I immediately punched in my father's work number as heavy sobs racked through my body. The phone rang a good three times before the secretary, Flo, answered the call.

"Hello, this is Hawkins police station. My name is Flo. How may I help you?" Flo was an older lady with dark hair and big, round glasses that sat on the brim of her nose. I sniffled before wiping my eyes. "He-hey Flo, can I talk to my dad?" I asked. Flo must've not noticed I was crying because she instantly transferred me to my father. The phone rang once before my dad answered, "Yeah what ya need?" Dad asks, "Da-daddy can you-you come get me?" I asked through sobs. I could almost hear the confusion in his voice as he asked, "What's wrong? What happened?" I don't answer due to the sobs that continue to erupt from my body. My brain was asking the same question repeatedly. Why would he do that to me? I thought we were friends. "I-I-please Dad," he grumbles quietly, "alright I'll be there in a few minutes."

I stood on the sidewalk with my arms wrapped around my body, waiting. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks when my dad's blazer pulled up beside me. I quickly get into the car, throwing my backpack in the back seat, and slamming the door shut before curling up in a ball, leaning my head against the glass. My father didn't immediately begin driving, instead deciding to interrogate me. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

"Steve," I whispered as more tears fell down my cheek. "Wh-what'd he do?" he asked, brows curling into a furrow. Dad knew Steve as a sweet boy, not someone who could ever hurt me. "He-he said...said I was annoying a-a-and that I was clingy." I said through sobs "And he-he said he was only my friend because he fe-felt bad because Sara die-died, that, m-mom didn't like me so why should he, a-and that she do-dodged a bullet leaving." His blood was boiling, I could tell. His face turned red, and he clenched his fists. Before I could even ask him what he was doing, he was already out of the car and halfway towards the front door. 

-

I wasn't a total nerd or loser. I was just normal, but I wasn't a Heather or a Carol. I was just me. I wasn't even the attractive type of normal person like Nancy Wheeler. I was just average. I was standing at my locker waiting for my friend Stephanie. We always met up at my locker before walking to English. Steph was popular. Sometimes I ask myself how I scored a friend like her. She was beautiful and kind. Everybody liked her and everybody had a reason why. The boys liked her because she was pretty, and the girls liked her because she was kinder than the other popular girls. Her curly hair bounced as she sauntered up to me. Her lips formed in a sweet smile as her hands pressed against her hips.

Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and a green bow was placed in her hair to match her green cheerleading uniform. "You coming to the game tonight?" she asked as she leaned her body against the locker next to me. "Maybe I Dunno. I have a lot of homework tonight," I whisper. I'm momentarily distracted by Steve walking by with his arm around his new plaything, Lisa Franklin, a cheerleader like Steph, but unlike Steph, Lisa was an absolute bitch. Despite the hurtful things Steve Harrington said to me, my crush on him never completely disappeared. Sometimes it felt like it was hidden away, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface. 

Whenever I saw him walk by or heard him speak in any of our shared classes, my heart would skip a beat and my feelings for him would come flooding back. It was frustrating and confusing, but I couldn't help the way I felt. I feel two arms wrapping around my body, drawing my attention away from Steve. I glance over and see that it's Shawn Peterson. My relationship with Shawn is a bit complicated. We do things that most people in a romantic relationship do, but we don't use labels because he 'doesn't like labels'.

Shawn's a football player who's popular enough to be kind of friends with Steve. His hair is a dark, chocolate brown that falls in natural waves, framing a face that is both masculine and handsome. But it's his stunning brown eyes that steal the show, sparkling with an intensity that could make any girl weak in the knees. "So, you coming tonight?" he asks as he presses a kiss to my neck. I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe still Dunno though," I whisper. He groans as he presses a kiss just below my ear. "c'mon my parents aren't home tonight; we can go to mine afterward," I hum as I turn so I'm facing him. If I go, I have to tell my dad I'm at Steph's house and if I do that, I have the risk of him calling her parents to verify.

despite the risks, I smile up at him and whisper, "yeah okay sure." 

-

I sat on the bleachers watching as Steph cheered. my hands were buried deep into my pockets as I zoned out. No matter how much I loved Steph and Shawn, I'll always find high school football games a little boring. I didn't understand football and no matter how many times Shawn tried explaining it to me, I always left the conversation a little more confused than I was before. I feel someone sit down beside me, but I don't care enough to look to see who it is.

"hey," an all too familiar voice whispers. That makes me look up because I haven't heard that voice talking to me in years. Steve Harrington sat next to me, dressed in the same outfit he had been wearing at school earlier that day. I couldn't stop my heart from beating a mile a minute, and my hands beginning to shake. I can't tell if I'm nervous because I'm scared or because I have feelings for him. "What?" I mutter back, my voice a little harsher than I expected. Despite the fact he had been so mean to me back in 7th grade, I never wanted to be mean back. I couldn't get myself to do it.

"You here for Shawn?" Steve asks, his left hand tapping away at the metal bench. I nod replying "Yup" he hums as he nods awkwardly "Sooo...is he your y'know boyfriend?" I shrug "It's complicated..." he nods, a quiet hum coming from his lips. Why did he want to talk now? He hasn't talked to me in 3 years, but now randomly he wants to talk like nothing ever happened, like he never whispered to his friends when I walked by or spread rumors about me. "Why are you talking to me?" I ask brows curling in confusion as I stare up at him.

"wh-oh I-I just wanted to talk," he mutters back. he didn't want to talk for years before this, so why'd he want to talk now? After everything he's done to me, why now? I'm silent as I search his face for any signs that he's messing with me. But there's nothing, not a smirk, or some type of glint in his eyes, just brows furrowed together in confusion. I decided to look around to see if any of his friends were nearby snickering to themselves, but still, I didn't see any of them.

"wh-what are you looking for?" he asks. I quickly pivot my body towards him again. "Are you fucking with me again Steve?" he lets out a shocked little gasp before hurling into saying "No, no I'm not I just thought we could talk y'know since we haven't in a while" That infuriates me because he knows damn well why we aren't talking. "You know why we haven't talked in a while," I mutter as I scoot away from him. "c'mon y/n that was so long ago," he says, elongating the 'o' at the end of ago. I scoff rolling my eyes. "Yeah fuck you," I say as I scoot away from him a little more. He sighs defeated before asking, "How's your dad?" I shrug, muttering a quiet "fine," he nods awkwardly "You still live in the same house?" I shake my head. "No, moved a few years back."

We sit awkwardly, both of us not speaking as the football team comes running out on the field. Most of the people around us roar in applause and shouts of excitement, including Steve. he stands to his feet clapping before cupping his hands together in front of his mouth and shouting "Yeahhh Shawn!!" I cringe a little inside. Steve, like every other popular guy and athlete at the school, were filled with so much school spirit it made me physically cringe. he sat back down looking at me, as I stared at my feet trying to hold back laughter. "What?" a smile cracks to his lips as I let out a few quiet giggles. "Nothing...nothing" he laughs, and for a few quick minutes our old dynamic came back.

"Seriously? C'mon, what?" cover my mouth with my hand as I continue to laugh. I shake my head, refusing to say anything as our laughter dies down. And just like that, we were back to two estranged friends who hadn't held a conversation for more than 2 minutes for the past 3 years, almost. "y'know your dad punched me that day?" I look up at him, brows furrowing as I whisper a quiet "What?"

"He punched me when I was in eighth grade. " It all comes back, my father storming into the school after admitting to him what Steve had said to me. "good" I wouldn't normally expect my father, a grown man, to punch a 13-year-old, but in that instance, I don't blame him. If I was him and a guy like Steve had told my daughter the things Steve had told to me, I would've done more than just punched him. Steve laughs almost as if he was agreeing with me "Yeah...I was an asshole" I roll my eyes, was? Steve Harrington was still an asshole. "still" I say correcting him. Now it's his turn to ask "What?" I roll my eyes yet again as I say, "You're still an asshole", he frowns as he nods slowly "Yeah...I guess" At least he could admit it. 

-

Once the game ended, I bid Steve a quiet goodbye and went to the parking lot. I wait by Shawn's car for about 10 minutes until I see Shawn walking towards it, duffle bag swung over his shoulder, and hair damp. Steve walked next to him, both chatting about who knows what. Shawn drops his bag onto the hood of his car before scooping me up into a kiss.

Returning his kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck. I try to enjoy the kiss, but unfortunately, I can't because I can practically feel Steve's glare. I pull away, eyes meeting with Steve's. His brows are knitted together in an angry, or jealous type of furrow, and his arms are crossed over his chest. "You did so good out there," I say, pretending like I wasn't zoning out every 10 seconds. "mhm" Shawn hums before pressing his lips back against mine.

Steve clears his throat, making Shawn and I pull apart yet again. "well I'm gonna go. "See ya later, dude... um, nice talking to you again, y/n," Steve says before he starts walking towards his BMW, that was parked a few cars down.

The drive to Shawn's house is short and quiet. The only noise present is the low hum of the radio, and our breathing. When we get into his room, his hands are almost immediately all over my body. His lips touch mine, and his hands slide up and down the sides of my body before deciding to rest comfortably against my hips. The room is already somehow hot, and we're both out of breath when the sound of the phone (which sat on his nightstand) begins to ring.

BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG.

The sound of the phones rings is shrill and cuts through the quiet house like a knife. Shawn groans before pulling away from me. He crawls up his bed before answering the phone. Leaning against the headboard, he says, "Hello?"" in a very annoyed tone. "Oh, hey dude...no you weren't interrupting anything." the last bit drips in sarcasm as he says it.

"Yeah...yeah she's here, what'dya need?" I know he's talking about me because no one else is here, but I don't have a clue about who he's talking to. His brows furrow in confusion as the muffled sound of the other person talking comes out of the receiver. Then he scoffs as he shakes his head. "No, I'm not gonna do that sorry Steve." Steve? Why would Steve be asking about me? "Dude, you can't just ask me to do that" Shawn's eyes flick over to me before he whispers "I've gotta go alright? yeah, yeah, see you later." Shawn says before hanging up the phone.

"What was that about?" I ask. He hums quietly before hesitantly saying "Um...he just wanted to ask me if he could copy my homework" My brows furrow. There's no way Shawn would have made a big deal out of copying homework. They always copied each other work, so there was no way that's what Steve had asked. There was no world in which Shawn would have answered like that to needing to copy his homework.

As I press my hands into the soft cushion of Shawn's mattress, I sigh and whisper, "I should go... my dad's gonna be pissed if he finds out I stayed out late." Shawn nods before asking "Need a ride?" I nod, pushing myself up off the mattress and to my feet. "Yeah, but drop me off a few miles out. Don't need my dad knowing you're there."

A few years back, after my father's divorce was settled, and I was adjusted in school, my father sold our old family house. Claiming there were too many bad memories there, then he promptly moved us out to a cabin in the woods, much to 12-year-old Me's dismay. The cabin had supposedly been my grandfather's. his father, aka my grandfather, skipped out on the 'wondrous' opportunity to live in the shithole, so it had been abandoned for years since my great-grandfather died. It's a shitty log cabin, two beds and one bath that sat in the middle of the woods.

I hate being at that place alone. The doors creek, and the trees around it whistle with every gust of wind. I swear I'm going to be murdered one day in it and it'll be all Dad's fault for moving us out there. I didn't know why he couldn't have just moved us into some moderately shitty apartment or even keep us at the old house. 

-

Shawn's car slowly drives down a dirt road in the middle of the woods. His high beams shining ahead of us to make sure there wasn't some animal (or person) in our way. About halfway towards my house, Shawn stops the car. From there, it would be about a 10-minute walk up to the house. "I can walk you up there if you want me to," he says, his voice quiet as if he thought my father would somehow hear him all the way out here. "No, I'm fine...but thanks anyway. See you on Monday," I say as I push open the car door. I sling my bag over my shoulder as I begin the walk towards my house. Shawn waits until I'm out of sight from his car to turn around and it's the 5-minute drive back to the main road.

I arrive at my bedroom window. I don't even notice my dad stood leaned up against the door frame until I'm fully inside my room. I'm left staring at my father, who has his arms crossed over his chest, angrily glaring at me. "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU?" my mouth gaped open as I began to say something but decided it was better not to. "GO ON TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU WHERE" I let out a groan as I matched my father cross my arms over my chest "I was at the football game," I say with an eye-roll as I toss my backpack on my bed.

He scoffs "THE FOOTBALL GAME ENDED AT 8:30 SO TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU'VE BEEN FOR THE LAST 2 HOURS!" his voice echoes through my room as I begin to talk, "God you're being so dramatic. A few friends and I went to Shawn's to celebrate after the game." his face is red, and his fists clench and unclench before he begins to shout again. "YEAH, WE'LL SINCE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO FUCKING PICK UP A PHONE AND TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE I DON'T WANT YOU OUT OF THIS HOUSE FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS!" my eyes widen as I shout "What! that's not fair! I'm babysitting this weekend!"

"well, you're going to call whoever you're babysitting for this weekend and tell them that you can't make it anymore, and I don't want you using this phone this weekend either," he says as he goes to unplug the phone from the wall. I let out a loud dramatic "ugh!" which is then followed by me shouting "I hate you!"

As he walks out of the room he says, "Yeah well I fucking hate you too" I dramatically sit down on my bed before shouting again "You're such a fucking asshole!" he turns brows furrowing as he says, "What did you just call me", I'm not scared of him, I never have. He thinks I am, but I never will. "I said you're a fucking asshole," I repeat as my arms cross over my chest. He scoffs as he says, "I'll show you how much of an asshole I can be" before slamming my bedroom door behind him. 

I sit on my bed, arms crossed like a bratty toddler as tears pricked in my eyes. it wasn't fair. I've gotten home late a handful of times and he never gotten angry any of those times, why did he always pick and choose when he wanted to blow up? I wonder what it would be like right now if I was still in New York with my mother. would she be blowing up on me right now too? would she be cool about things like this? or was she strict? but I guess I'll never know because she gave up on me and our family.

I feel bad after fighting with him, I always feel bad. I know deep down he loves me; he just doesn't really know how to show it anymore. I crave that fatherly love that gets rationed out from time to time. I think that's why we fight so much; I crave the affection; he doesn't know how to show it. when he's not working, he sits on his chair, or in his bedroom practically in a catatonic state staring at the tv or a wall, we eat dinner in our separate rooms we don't talk unless we're screaming at each other, or I've got my head laid in his lap as I profusely apologize for what had happened. we're both traumatized i know that we both lost so much, but he should at least try. he knows I don't have any other parental figures in my life, and he still chooses to be distant and cold.

I sigh arms falling to my sides, pressing against my soft mattress. sometimes in the spur of the moment I wish he had died, and I know he thinks the same about me. I always feel bad afterwards though. even though I live with him, I don't know my father at all, he's a stranger to me. the only time we feel like father and daughter is when he's bossing me around. it's absolutely bazar that I feel the same way about my father that I do my absent mother. it's actually like they're both absent in their own ways, dad emotionally, and mom physically. he totally gave up after sara died, I mourn my father in the same way i mourn my dead sister. I just want the old him back, the dad who chased us around the park, and took us out for ice cream, the dad who never even thought to yell at me even if i had stollen a car.

I just want him back.

-

Taglist

@sheisjoeschateau @nothankyou138 @gleefulleve @luluw-20 @skrzydlak @halflifejess @natalie-flo @castleallherown

[miss-may-i]

Miss May I: Season 5 Part 1

Julian: Congratulations!

Isabella: Thank you! I so wish you could have walked with us.

Julian: That boat already sailed for me, but I'm happy for you and Richie.

Vivian: Bella, congratulations.

Isabella: Thank you so much, Vivi. Guess I don't have to call you Mr. Lowry anymore.

Vivian: When did you ever? Now if you excuse me, I have a few other students to meet up with.

Vivian: Richie, congratulations. Your valedictorian speech was amazing

Richie: Thank you, Mr. Lowry. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you.

Isabella: I'm telling you, this morning putting on my gown I was so nervous I thought I was gonna puke. Like, this makes us, like, bona fide adults now!

Damian: Hey girls.

Isabella: Damian!

Damian: Hey! I wasn't expecting that.

Isabella: I'm just so glad to see you. It's literally been years.

Damian: I'm glad to see you too. Never thought I'd be so happy to be back in middle of nowhere Alaska.

Damian: Julie, is that your baby? I can't believe how much he looks like Noah.

Julian: Everyone keeps saying that but I think he looks like me. His name's Jasper.

Damian: I see it now that you mention it. Guess it's just the hair and eyes he gets from Noah.

Julian: So, you're back. Does this mean you're out of military school?

Damian: Not yet. My graduation is next week but they let me home for Markus's graduation.

Julian: I'm really sorry about what happened. It's basically my fault you got sent away.

Damian: Don't sweat it. My mom had been threatening to send me to military school for years.

Julian: It's good to see you again.

Damian: Yeah, you too. I'm just glad Kirsten isn't here.

Julian: That's a long story. Vivian's husband was fucking her mom and got her pregnant, so he and Vivian got divorced then he, his baby mommy, and Kirsten moved to Storybrooke County.

Damian: Man, your family really likes to fuck up her life, huh? Maybe I did dodge a bullet by getting sent away. I'll see you again when I come back.

Julian: Bet on it.

Isabella: Oh my god, military school was good to him. Did you see those muscles?

Julian: What happened to only having eyes for Richie?

Isabella: Richie is the love of my life, but he's more of a brains guy.

Isabella: Please my wonderful and bestest best friend please tell me you changed your mind about coming to the graduation dinner?

Julian: Sorry, it just doesn't seem fair since I didn't graduate.

Isabella: But you got your GED! They don't call it an equivalent for nothing.

Julian: Besides, I have other dinner plans tonight.

Isabella: Oh, a special hot date with Noah?

Julian: No, he's at work. Actually, I'm having dinner with my dad.

Isabella: Your dad?

Julian: He's been trying to make more of an effort to be involved in my life since the custody case.

Isabella: I can't believe how good everything worked out. Or maybe I shouldn't say that 'cause of your mom.

Julian: No, you're right. Her being gone is a good thing. It was like some kind of miracle.

Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3 | Season 4

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Family Tree

[hellomynameisghostface]

Stu Macher Is DEAD!!

Hello yet again, "Scream" fans of Tumblr. It's time for another one of my opinions/rants. This is probably a super unpopular opinion but I also feel like the "Scream" fandom is equally split on it. Something that kind of bothers me is the fact that so many people in the fandom want him to return but I'm very against it for many reasons, personally. This post is basically just to get my opinion and feelings off my chest. A small declaimer before I start: I do not hate Stu. I actually love him and all Ghostfaces, for that matter. If you ask me, they're the best part of the movies and each one is great in their own way. Okay...let's get started. Why is Stu Macher dead? Because the original plan for "Scream 3" was to bring Stu back and be the mastermind behind a cult of Ghotfaces people hold on to the hope that he's still alive just because he was going to be for a very specific movie. Plans get scrapped and changed so this shouldn't be used to support him returning now. With that being said, the writer/director has confirmed his death. In the commentary with Wes Craven and Kevin Williamson for the first movie, one of them states "here's someone saying I'll be right back which mean he's going to be dead but he doesn't know he's actually one of the killers...but he does die at the end." You think this would be enough but apparently not.

Randy even exclaims in "Scream 2" that "Stu was a pussy ass wet rag..." He talks about him in past tense because he's dead. On top of that, NO ONE stop to think "oh, the Ghostface killings are starting again? Do you think...it could be Stu?" No mention of him possibly being alive at all and that's the first thing that should've come up in Sidney, Randy, Dewey and Gale's minds. However, people like to theorize that he faked his death and is in hiding but (respectfully) that is this dumb piece of fucking dumb shit accuse to bring someone back to a franchise just to please fans. You think THE Gale Weathers wouldn't know all of this? That Dewey wouldn't have been keeping close eyes on this case for Sidney's sake? The fact that Wes made three movies after this and made no mention of Stu possible being alive is proof enough that he is died with the original script for "Scream 3."

I don't even know how he would still be alive given he was bleeding out and said he thought he was dying from when Billy stabbed him. On top of that, he used the rest of his strength to try and take Sidney down. Then having a giant TV not only crush your head but electrocute you as you bleed out? Crazy that people still think he's alive.

All that aside, a reason I don't think his return would work is because they waited waaaaay too long. Could it have worked for "Scream 3?" Maybe. I still think it would've been a little lame given the lack of hints he survived in "Scream 2." However, if it was going to happen, the second or third movie would've been the time to do it. SO much time has passed with no talk around it within the movies that it makes literally zero sense to do it now. They dodged a bullet bringing him back for "Scream 3," honestly. Besides, if he survived that means Ethan survived and I know a bunch of you old school fans wouldn't want that. I feel like that was basically even the new writers/directors confirming that Stu is dead. They only hinted he could be alive because they wanted to watch you squirm. I know this because instead of officially naming the fifth film "Scream 5," "Scream V" or even "5cream" they chose to name it "Scream" then continuing to name their following movie "Scream VI." They loved to piss the fans off. It also got people to watch the film because for the past two movies everyone was so certain he would come back.

At this point, the only reason to bring him back is for fan service. Bringing back a past killer defeats the purpose of these movies and if you're sick of that, why are you still here? One of the main reasons I love these movies is because you never know who it could be and it's ALWAYS someone new. Bringing him back automatically confirms he's alive and a killer (or at least has something to do with it) and it's someone I've already seen do all this before. It would be boring. This fandom's always complaining about how all the killers are so obvious, how predictable the movies are and how they're always trying to carry the movies with nostalgia because they can't move on from the original yet...you want a killer from the first movie to come back and be super obvious? Make it make sense.

With all of that being said, I feel I need to say this again: I do not hate Stu Macher. I love Stu, I love Matthew. He did amazing in this role and that's another reason why he needs to stay dead. Sometimes you just need to let things be. Bringing a perfectly good thing back when it does not need to be brought back often ruins it. He left on a good note so lets keep it that way. LET MY MAN REST IN PEACE.

[mamawasatesttube]

I don't know that much about superboy so forgive me if this is a silly question but what's the deal with Magdalene Visaggio?

not a silly question, dw!! if you haven't read many kon comics it probably doesn't look particularly noteworthy but OOF. OOF.

the tl;dr of it: despite being paid to write him once, she also hasn't read kon comics and it really, really, really shows. i'm talking geoff johns levels of flagrant disregard for the existing character - maybe even worse than geoff? which i say only because i know geoff did read sb94 even if he didn't act like it. but that's off topic; this isn't a geoff hatepost. this is a magdalene hate post.

under a cut for length, lets goooo!

so we start out with her canonizing supermartian. already off on the wrong foot - that's a ship out of yja the tv show which is a completely separate continuity from main comics and a completely different kon than main continuity kon. despite supposedly knowing that, she still shoves them into a relationship in main continuity, despite them never having actually interacted on page in main continuity.

she then goes on to characterize kon as angry and entitled and uncaring, and also in high school again. not only does she directly contradict all of his preboot existing characterization (which is important because kon-el never got reset during flashpoint - he was in another universe and thus dodged that bullet. current kon-el is canonically the same kon-el as pre-flashpoint/postcrisis kon-el.), but also she directly contradicts both young justice (2019) and superboy: man of tomorrow, which are in current continuity, leading one to really wonder if she has read a single comic kon appeared in at all. it's also worth noting that the asshole with anger issues characterization is, once again, much truer to the young justice animated tv show than any comic kon.

also worth noting is that the infamous red hair dye streak? well, uh...

yeah..............

on her twitter, she once said something about kon-el not being a good name because it's "still a name someone else gave him", called him "the jason todd of the superfamily", and insisted that the meaning of a trans narrative is "burning down your life and reevaluating your place within it":

kon-el is a name gifted to him to signify his acceptance into his family (superboy (1994) #59) and he was so overjoyed to receive it that he cried. overall, the superfam are very supportive and loving, and introducing strife just to make him run off and live with jinny hex instead of them just because she thinks one can't transition and retain previous relationships is... not it, lol.

her pitch also contained some outrageously egregious christianity bullshit, like villains named "saint", "shepherd", and "savior", as well as direct comparisons between clark and jesus christ. this is... sorry i really just have to say this is Fucking Cringe. i guess the more polite way to put it would be "incredible gauche" (considering the jewish origins of the superfam) but i just can't call it anything else. This Fucking Sucks Dude. i won't even get into the weirdness about genetic bullshit she leans into by introducing kon's "brother" who's also part luthor, part superman, but "luthor-dominant" (lol?) (do you know how genes work even a little bit).

she has quoted the one panel from reign of the supermen where kon says "don't ever call me superboy" a few times, claiming it's the first thing he ever said and no one listened. to me this essentially reads as her going "i've read one of his appearances and i would like to throw out the like 200 issues of character development he had since then in favor of making him my own self-insert to explore MY transition and religious trauma".

basically she doesn't seem to know how to write a story that's not about herself. as a trans person with a positive relationship with my given name (because as a first-gen kid of two diasporic immigrants, it provides an important tie to my family's cultures, to me) and with trans friends who involved their parents in picking new names and so on and so forth, i honestly find it very reductive and white to insist there's only one trans narrative and only one good way for trans characters to be named. i also find her putting her own christian religious trauma into a superfam story off-putting and . well. fucking cringe. i understand and respect that that is her story, but it sure ain't universal and i won't be able to respect her as a writer until it becomes clear she gets that.

[pickalilywrites]

Levi plans to asks out Petra for Valentines day, but Zeke beats him to it. Feeling upset by it, he stays in, but receives a call from Petra herself asking if she could come over after a terrible date with Zeke.

last one. thanks for waiting :)

right here waiting

rivetra. high school au. 2689 words

Once again, Levi misses the entrance to “Wings of Freedom,” a song he and his friends have rehearsed at least a hundred times by now. He knows the song by heart, but he keeps coming in half a beat early because his mind is elsewhere. Mike and Hanji are about to keep going, but Levi makes a rewinding gesture with his finger to signal them to go back to the beginning even though this is the fifth time tonight he’s messed up the beginning. This isn’t even the first song Levi’s messed up. They’ve been at it for an hour already and the entrances that Levi hasn’t missed have been sung with flat notes and were completely void of feeling. At this latest mistake, Mike and Hanji exchange looks.  

Rather than strumming the opening chords once more, Hanji tucks their pick into the strings of their guitar. “Do you want to take a break, Levi? You seem kind of out of it. It’s not like we don’t practice every other day. We could take tonight off,” they suggest.  

“I’m not out of it. I’m fine,” Levi snaps perhaps more harshly than he intended based on the eyebrow that Mike raises. He’ll feel guilty about it later and give Hanji a belated apology once he’s in a better mood. Thankfully, his friend knows about his moods enough not to mind. With a sigh, Levi rubs his face and says more calmly, “It’s fine. Let’s just take it from the top again.”  

Mike has already set his drumsticks aside and stretches his arms above his head. “Nah, let’s take a break. I could use one, and you’re in one of those moods again. Might as well just call it a night so you can spend the night being grumpy about Zeke and Petra without any distractions,” he says as Hanji snickers.  

“There’s no Zeke and Petra,” Levi snaps reflexively even though he should be denying that he’s grumpy about them in the first place.  

The drummer of their band has hit the nail on the head, though. Levi’s been in a horrible mood leading up to today. It’s not that he hates Valentine’s Day. Most years he doesn’t pay any attention to it, but this year is different because he had plans. He had only failed to act upon them fast enough and suddenly Petra had been swept away on a date by someone else. To make things worse, the person who had asked Petra out before Levi could get the question out of his mouth is Zeke Jaeger, the most pretentious asshole in their school. It’s enough to make Levi swear off all subsequent Valentine’s Days altogether. 

“I mean, there’s kind of a Zeke and Petra,” Hanji says. They pull up a chair and sit backwards on it, their arms resting on the back of the chair. “They’re going out tonight. They’ve probably had dinner at a nice, swanky restaurants, the ones that cook the steaks right in front of you. But should you really feel bad? If Petra’s going out with someone like Zeke Jaeger, you have to question her taste in men. Maybe you dodged a bullet.”  

Mike shakes his head. “It’s not her fault. That guy is charming as fuck. He really buttered me up talking about indie bands. Just when I thought we were being great friends, he asked me if I could lend him my history homework because he forgot to do it last night. He knows how to get people to like him. He’s insidious,” Mike says. 

“SAT word,” Hanji says, throwing up a hand to air high-five Mike.  

“Did you give him your homework?” Levi asks Mike. 

“... yes,” Mike admits reluctantly. 

“Tch.” 

“He’s really charismatic!” Mike protests as Hanji cackles.  

“Well, I guess that’s true. It’s hard not to like him when he’s directed his attention towards you. The dude is charming and sociable, pretty much everything you’re not,” Hanji says to Levi who scowls in reply. Hanji should probably stop talking now if they want to avoid Levi’s ire, but somehow they’ve never felt the need to watch Levi’s temper. “I guess it’s not really Petra’s fault in the end. Does she even know you’re interested in her? If you really wanted to pursue her, you should have asked her out before Zeke. She probably went with him because she didn’t think you were interested in dating her.”  

“It’s fine. It’s whatever. It’s over now, so can we just ... practice or whatever?” Levi asks because he doesn’t want to talk about it right now or ever. He’d really like to just play music the entire night, but he knows that his lack of concentration is going to make any rehearsal difficult. He hears Mike and Hanji start up the first few bars of “Wings of Freedom” once more, but they play half-heartedly, their own morale affected by Levi’s bad mood. In the end, Levi lets out a tired sigh and sits on the couch in the corner of the garage and curls up with the notebook he and the others use to scrawl lyrics when they’re brainstorming.  

The walls of the garage reverberate from the drum beats that Mike practices, a low, syncopated rhythm that pulses against Levi’s ear. Hanji is strumming away softly, practicing a different song. As they play, they hum the countermelody to a song that is still in their drafts. The noise is something that would probably distract other people from writing new music, but Levi is used to it by now and filters it out, allowing it to fade into the background of his mind as he fiddles with his pencil and stares at a blank page. He doesn’t write a word on it but he can already see the words “I’m sorry” scribbled over and over the page in his own handwriting.  

He’s not sure why his own hesitation is preventing him from asking Petra out. They’re just words, and the worst thing she can do is say no. At least he believed that was the worst thing that could happen. It turns out that not doing anything and having the worst person in the world ask out the girl he likes instead is the worst thing that can happen. But if Levi is too much of a coward to ask Petra out, does he even deserve to go out with her in the first place? Maybe he should resign himself to being a pathetic loner for the rest of his life. 

Levi is still moping on the couch when his phone vibrates. Without looking at the screen, he picks up. “What is it?” 

There’s a crackle on the other end and the sound of cars passing by. The person on the other side doesn’t speak, just makes a noise like sniffling, and for a moment Levi wonders if he’s being prank called. He has half a mind to just hang up when he suddenly hears Petra’s voice.  

“L-Levi, can you c-come pick me up?” she asks, her voice breaking towards the end.  

He’s already off the couch and grabbing his jacket off, shrugging it on while still keeping the phone to his ear. “Yeah, of course. Let me know where to pick you up. I’ll leave right now,” he says, ignoring the curious looks he’s receiving from his bandmates. He nods as Petra tells him the address and lets her know that he’ll be there soon before hanging up. 

“Was that Petra?” Hanji asks, interest piqued. They’ve stopped strumming on their guitar. They’re too excited to stand still, bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet. It’s obvious from the expression on their face that they want to extract as much information from Levi as possible but they’re withholding questions so as to not hold Levi back from the task at hand. “Levi, go to her!”  

Levi’s hand is on the doorknob already. “I’m going,” he scowls.  

“Go to her, Levi!” Mike echoes with a grin on his face.  

“Go to her! Go to her!” Hanji and Mike call as Levi runs out.  

⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ 

Levi isn’t surprised when he pulls up to the address that Petra has given him. It’s Giovanni’s, one of those steakhouses that people dress up to go to and where the chefs cook the steaks right in front of you. It’s on the other side of town where most of the upscale restaurants and stores are. Levi’s never been in this area except to drive right past it, but it’s a neighborhood that suits the tastes of a rich, privileged, pretentious surgeon’s son like Zeke.  

As he pulls up to the restaurant, he sees Petra waiting outside, shivering in the cold even though she has a perfectly good men’s blazer folded over her arm. She had taken the time to dress up for the dinner. She’s wearing a off-shoulder cocktail dress made of a rich, red satin with matching heels, and her ginger hair has been curled immaculately to frame her face. She must have been wearing makeup earlier, but the only evidence of it is the faint red that still stains her lips. Her eyes are still red from crying, but her expression turns from sadness to relief when she sees Levi’s beat-up car pull into a parking spot.  

She hurries to the car, heels clicking against the pavement, and slips inside. As soon as she gets in, she crumples into the seat. She doesn’t cry, but she’s taking deep breaths as she tries to compose herself. After a while, she says shakily, “I don’t want to talk about it.”  

“Okay” is all Levi says and he pulls out of the parking lot and starts on the long ride home. He should have turned on the radio so Petra wouldn’t feel self-conscious about crying if she needs to, but there’s too high a chance of radio stations marathoning love songs so he decides silence is the best option. Periodically, he glances at Petra, but she keeps her head down so that her hair covers her face. In her lap sits the blazer folded nicely as her fingers pick off invisible lint.  

They’re stopped at a stoplight when something compels Levi to make conversation.  

“You look pretty,” he tells Petra, and he regrets it instantly. It’s not like him to hand out compliments for free.  

“Yeah, pretty fucking pathetic,” Petra says with a self-deprecating laugh. It’s only now that she lifts her head, brushing her hair away from her face. She leans against the side door, one arm resting on the elbow rest while her cheek is pressed against her hand. Even miserable, she looks beautiful. “This isn’t how I imagined the evening was going to turn out.”  

He wonders how she thought the evening was going to turn out. She probably thought Zeke was going to take her home, maybe kiss her on the doorstep, and then make their relationship official by announcing it to the school on Monday morning. God, the thought of it makes him sick.  

“He left me at the restaurant,” Petra continues without any prompting from Levi. She looks more angry than miserable now, her brows furrowed in frustration as she tries to understand why the night had taken a turn for the worse. She glances at Levi from the corner of her eye to gauge his expression as she recounts the night. “We were having a good time, at least I thought so. He took me to such a nice place, and I dressed up for it, too. We both had the steak and the waiter even said we were such a beautiful couple.”  

Here, she doesn’t notice the slight grimace on Levi’s face.  

“And then he got a call from someone. I didn’t think much of it, although looking back now it was really rude of him to pick up someone else’s call while he was on a date with me, especially since it wasn’t an emergency or anything,” Petra says. The more she speaks, the more she fiddles with the blazer sitting on her lap. She rubs the fabric of the sleeve between her fingers anxiously. “He came back after his call — and we had just ordered a dessert to split between us — and told me had to leave for a party. That junior for Paradis University he interviewed with for admissions called him and invited him to a party, said it was good for an incoming freshman to network with people and get a taste of university life outside of just the academics.”  

“Hmm,” Levi hums as he listens. He doesn’t like a single word he hears. Listening to anything regarding Zeke usually annoys him, but everything Petra has just said is making his blood boil over. He tries to keep his voice calm and level as he asks, “He couldn’t have taken you? Or at least driven you home?” 

“I wasn’t invited. He said it would make me uncomfortable if I went because I wouldn’t know anyone. Never mind that he doesn’t know anyone aside from the person who interviewed him,” Petra says bitterly. She rolls up the blazer now and sets it beside her instead of letting it take up space on her lap. “The party was at a house near the campus. It’s the complete opposite direction of where we live, so Zeke asked me to call one of my friends to pick me up so he could just drive there right away. And then he left me there.”  

“Asshole.”  

“I know!” Petra says, and it gives Levi a level of satisfaction that she agrees with him. She turns to Levi now, her hands on the arm rest between them. “He didn’t even wait for the dessert to come either. He just peeled out of there and I had to pay the bill, too.”  

Levi has always known Zeke was terrible, but everything Petra tells him makes Zeke look exponentially worse. It’s like there’s no limit to how awful that asshole can be. He’s gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles have turned white. 

“He told me he’d pay me back on Monday and then left me with his stupid jacket,” Petra sighs. She flicks the blazer beside her with a finger and then turns away to look out the window again. “I spent an hour crying in the bathroom before I called you. One of the waitresses felt bad for me and snuck me an extra dessert. God, I’m so pathetic.” 

“It’s not you,” Levi tells her. “Zeke just sucks. You deserve better. You deserve someone who respects you and treats you right. You deserve someone who doesn’t make you blame yourself when he’s the one being a shithead.”  

Petra laughs half-heartedly and Levi’s words, but she does seem in better spirits than she was earlier this evening. “If you ever find a guy like that, let me know. Tell him I’ll be right here waiting.”  

Levi wants to be that guy. He wants to be the guy that’s better. He wants to be the one to take Petra to dinner, the one to never abandon her. He wants to be the one that Petra deserves and the one that deserves her, but he’s not sure if he is. All this time he’s been right here waiting to see if he is the right person, but he’s not sure he wants to sit around waiting anymore.  

“Do you want to get ice cream?” he asks Petra. He sees her look at him in surprise and he shrugs in response. “It’s too shitty to end your night like this. Let’s get ice cream.”  

Petra purses her lips, the corners of her mouth turning upward. “I’d like that a lot,” she tells Levi and then sits back in her seat. Her head is turned toward the window once more, but Levi can see the smile on her face in the reflection. 

He decides he won’t hesitate any longer. He’s tired of being a coward. Once Petra has gotten over Zeke, Levi plans to shoot his shot. Until then, he’ll be right here waiting patiently.  

[tea-and-secrets]

Tw grooming

When I was younger my parents refused to let me sleep over at friend's houses if they had older brother. I never understood why and I even lost friends because of this. I will say it was never a 1 or 2 year age difference, it was always 5 years or more that their brothers were older.

Well, I did managed to make one friend in middle school who had a brother that was older by 7 years. My parents liked her so much that they ignored the fact her brother was already in his 20's and let me stay over. He was rarely home so I barely saw him. However, when we were in 8th grade this 21 year old man started to date a 14 year old who was a freshman and went to a different school district. I didn't know about it until we were in 10th grade, which made me very uncomfortable. My friend would fight with me and said her parents were ok with the fact their daughter was dating an adult. When we stopped being friends I finally told someone about what her brother was doing and they explained to me it was called "grooming".

I mean, I know I wasn't a victim of grooming, but jesus my parents had every right to not want me to be around people's much older brothers. In fact, I wouldn't want my middle schooler daughter to ever be friends with someone whose brother is a groomer. Maybe my former friend is a victim too, but she was pretty shitty to me and I'm leaving out other triggering and fucked up shit she and her family did. In no way am I excusing her brothers actions or trying to downplay her either. People really need to watch the friend's family their children befriend.

Sorry, every once in a while I remember that crap and other shit her family did and how much of a bullet I dodged. Her family was just pure evil and man I wish I could write a novel on them since the grooming thing is just one aspect and not all the shit that came from them.

.

[hold-me-witcher]

Daydrinking to Drown Out the Pain

Read on ao3!

Special thank you to @elder-flower for beta-ing <3

The lad in the loud Hawaiian shirt tapped his chin thoughtfully while looking at the drinks menu behind the bar. Then his big blue gaze switched so that it was directed at Geralt, who took that as his cue to ask, “What can I get you?” like any good bartender would. 

Despite all the time he’d spent pondering the menu, the boy did not order. Instead he let out a long sigh. “My ex got engaged today,” he said. “To my other ex. Give me something that’ll fuck me up.” 

Geralt did a double take. The customer didn’t even look old enough to be drinking, much less to have more than one ex who he’d been broken up with long enough that they’d moved on so thoroughly. 

“High school sweethearts?” he asked doubtfully, his hands automatically pulling a glass from behind the counter.

The man chuckled. “Oh no, university actually. Here, let me help you out.” He presented his ID with a flourish under Geralt’s raised eyebrows. “I know,” his tone was self-deprecating, “babyface.” 

“Hm.” Geralt looked the ID over. It certainly seemed legit, facing horizontally and everything. Apparently the man’s name was Julian and he was twenty-three. He handed the ID back to its owner and very carefully did not react when their fingers brushed. “How's a Long Island iced tea?”

Normally Geralt wouldn’t give two shits past getting a customer their drink but well, Julian was dressed nicely enough that he would probably give a healthy tip to a listening ear. He reeked of that very special “willing to toss money at whatever makes me feel better” air. And it was late afternoon, before the evening rush so it’s not like he had much else to do. At least that’s what Geralt told himself, when he sidled down the bar to give the man his drink and then stayed. He had no idea how to start the conversation but luckily Julian needed no prodding.

“It’s just like, I don’t even care that much!” he burst out, before taking a dejected sip of his drink.

“But you’re drinking about it,” Geralt pointed out. Shit, maybe that wasn’t sympathetic enough. 

Luckily Julian didn’t seem to mind his bluntness. He gave a bitter smile. “Yes well, it makes for a compelling narrative, don’t you think?” He took another long sip, the drink already half gone. “It’s not about the people- I mean, it’s a little about the people. Valdo and Virginia are both awful and they deserve each other. I hope they’ll be absolutely miserable together.”

Geralt wasn’t quite sure what to respond. He settled on, “Sounds like you need to stop getting involved with people whose names start with V.” 

Julian gave a surprised laugh like he’d actually found that funny. “I do, don’t I? Anyways yeah, it’s not like I’m jealous or hung up on either of them, it’s just- just-”

“They have someone and you don’t?” Geralt guessed. 

“Yes!” Julian exclaimed. Angry sip. “I cannot fucking believe two such miserable bats have gone and decided to get hitched when neither of them could bear to commit to me after a year long relationship each. I mean I dodged a bullet there obviously. Me, married at twenty three? What a laugh. But still, they’re together and they had the gall to invite me to their engagement party and I’m here . . .”

“Drinking alone in a bar,” Geralt finished. 

“Precisely.” Julian drained the rest of his drink. “I’m sorry, you must think me quite pathetic. I swear I usually drink with friends, it's just that they’re all at an engagement party this evening.”

Geralt frowned. “Doesn’t seem like they’re very good friends.”

Julian gave a choked laugh. “Oh no it’s me, I’m the problem. I act absolutely cordial with Valdo and Virginia so no one suspects a thing. Didn’t want to wreck the group. They’re not bad people, just very bad partners, you know? My friends wouldn’t let me daydrink alone if they knew, but I took the coward's way out, claimed I had prior plans.”

Geralt knew a thing or two about fudging the truth to get out of unwanted interactions. He’d done it countless times to get out of Yen’s fancy dinner parties. 

“You still deserve support,” Geralt said, as gently as he could. 

“Of course I do!” Julian exclaimed. “And luckily I have you- oh shit I’m so sorry I’ve been prattling on and on and I haven’t even asked your name, so rude of me, sorry-”

“Geralt,” Geralt interrupted. “My name’s Geralt.”

“Yes good, Geralt, the world's kindest hottest bartender.” Julian swayed on the barstool. “Oh bollocks, I drank that rather quickly didn’t I? I’m afraid it’s all hitting at once.” 

Geralt grunted, hoping his blush wasn’t too noticeable as he poured Julian a glass of ice water. “Here, should help.”

Endearingly, Julian pressed the cool mason jar to his forehead before taking a drink. “Geralt,” he said thoughtfully, tracing his fingers through the condensation along the sides of the glass, “doesn’t start with a V.” 

Geralt wished he knew how to respond. Instead he found himself considering Julian’s flushed cheeks and slightly glazed eyes. It was a pretty face really, with some stubble would probably even be considered handsome. Pretty-handsome people with bright eyes were just Geralt’s type, godsdamnit. 

“Say,” a sly smile quirked Julian’s lips, “You wouldn’t happen to be single and into men, would you?”

Well that was much more forward than Geralt was used to. His lips parted. Nothing came out. He tried again. “Um. I.”

Julian groaned before Geralt could actually say anything of substance. “Gods! I am so sorry that was insanely inappropriate, please forget I said anything. I swear I don’t usually harass people in their workplaces. Or at all!”

“It’s fine,” Geralt finally managed. “I. Hm. My brothers will be here to take over my shift in an hour. You can stay here, sober up ‘til I’m finished. Can’t take you home if you’re intoxicated. If you’re still interested by then,” he added. “Or if you just wanted to talk more, we can . . . talk.” 

The way Julian was beaming at him made Geralt want to hide, but also stare until his eyes dried out. “Only if you’re sure.” 

Geralt shrugged. “Would’ve told you to fuck off if I wanted to.” 

Julian’s smile grew wider. “Of that I have no doubt! Anyways, let me close out my tab. Water only while I wait! I can still sit up here and complain to you in between customers though, right? Because darling I have so much to say.” 

Julian did in fact tip very well, but even if he hadn’t Geralt would have been utterly content to listen to him prattle on about idiots getting married young these days and why did people even still do marriage? Honestly no one had the right to sound so good while endlessly complaining. 

By the time Eskel and Lambert came in for the always busy evening shift, Geralt was entirely familiar with the cadence of Julian’s voice. It wasn’t grating like most over-talkative people, in fact it was rather soothing. As he approached Julian around the other side of the bar, finally ready to leave, it was gratifying to see him slide off his barstool with an eager smile. Geralt found himself quite looking forward to hearing what kinds of things Julian had to say to him once they were alone. 

[questionableratatouille00]

ɪ ᴀᴍ ʀᴇᴀʟ (ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ)

Pairing: Sambucky

Summary: Bucky’s past always seems to catch up to him. But Sam’s here to help.

Warnings: bees, bullets, flashbacks, PTSD.

Part two of this!

Bucky dried his wet hair before he readjusted the waistband of sweatpants. He’d just finished showering, and he enjoyed the feeling of being clean. Feeling dirty reminded him of times he didn’t like to recall. 

He pulled a red Henley over his head, opening the door to the upstairs bathroom. The sound of a shriek made all of his blood turn to ice.

It sounded like Cass. Bucky rushed down the stairs, his vibranium fist clenched tightly as he prepared to fight whatever intruder that had broken in.

“What? What is it?” Sam’s voice was panicked as he raced into the kitchen from the laundry room. 

“There’s a bee!” Cass shrieked, horrified by the buzzing insect. 

Bucky looked around the room, before finding the tiny culprit. 

“Cass, it’s fine. It’s alright, baby. It’s not gonna get’cha. Just hold the door open and it’ll fly out.” Sarah hummed from the sink as she loaded the dishwasher.

“It’s gonna sting me!” The young boy squealed in fear. 

Logically, Bucky could just reach out with his left hand and crush the damn thing. But it wasn’t about logic. He knew the lesson Sarah was trying to teach; that just because things scare you doesn’t mean they’re bad. Or something like that. Maybe it was something to do with killing things and how that was bad, but Bucky knew he wasn’t the best person to be teaching that. 

His memory wasn’t known for being the best, but he had faint memories of his own mother teaching a similar lesson. Something to do with school, maybe. 

Bucky looked around the room. Where had the damn bug gone?

Just then, something whizzed past his left ear. He gasped, the unexpected—yet somehow familiar—noise so close to his skull sending him into a short panic. 

He’d barely dodged the bullet. He pressed himself up against the wall of the freight car, feeling the metal against his fingers. He was shielded by some large box, either filled with supplies or something else that the Nazis needed.

He felt his lips tremble, but he bit down on his lower lip and tried his best to toughen up.

He’d been in the trenches, for fuck’s sake. He could feel the now warmed metal of his dog tags pressed against his chest under his jacket, proof and a reminder of what he’d done; where he’d been.

Steve. He needed to help Steve. Shit.

“Move! Get down!” He shouted, pushing Steve towards the ground, trying to shield him from the weird Nazi machinery.

“Bucky!” That wasn’t Steve’s voice. Steve..hadn’t said his name. Right? That wasn’t what happened.

Another voice said his name. This time, it was a woman’s voice. There wasn’t a woman on that damn train. Where was he again?

There were hands on him. Warm, gentle, hands. Firm hands. Steady hands. 

“Barnes. Barnes. Bucky.” The voice was back. 

Bucky sucked in a breath of air. His eyes were watering. He wiped at them with his right hand, his brows furrowing.

“You’re alright. C’mon, get up. You’re alright.” Sam’s voice was stern, but in a kind way. The way Bucky responded best to. 

Sam helped him stand upright, walking him through taking deep breaths. 

“Shit,” Bucky breathed when he came back to his senses. He didn’t feel bad about his use of foul language, considering Sarah had ushered the boys out of the room. 

For their safety, you monstrous fuck, a voice in the back of his mind spat. 

“She thought you wouldn’t want them then to see you have a flashback,” Sam murmured.“There’s nothing wrong about what happened, shit happens.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky’s voice was choked up, and he cleared his throat. 

“Don’t be.” Sam told him. “I mean that. Shit happens,” he echoed his previous statement. 

“It shouldn’t. Not—not in your home.” Bucky’s voice was full of guilt, and Sam frowned. 

“Barnes. Shut up.” Bucky could feel the warmth in Sam’s tone, the look in his eye. So he complied. 

“The bee’s out.” Sam noted, sitting Bucky down at the kitchen table and getting a glass of water. He sets the glass down in front of Bucky. 

“It sounded like a bullet.” Bucky hummed, taking a sip of water.

Sam nodded, his arms comfortably crossed against his chest. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Bucky nodded slowly, though he felt unsure. “I didn’t remember that part. I mean, I remember..falling. From that train. But I didn’t remember what happened before.” He explained as his brain processed what he’d just seen. 

Sam nodded along, but he let Bucky think it out for himself. Bucky appreciated that. 

“You look tired,” he commented after it was clear Bucky wasn’t going to say any more.

Bucky nodded, but said nothing. 

“You should take a nap.” Sam suggested. “It’ll make you feel a lot better. Trust me.” 

Bucky shook his head, still a little disoriented. “Sam..I can’t.” He mumbled, trying his best to be comprehensible. 

Sam knew not to force it. “Okay. Okay. I won’t make you. It’s alright.” He soothed. “Just..know you can talk about it. If you wanted. I..when I got home, after…after Riley  was shot down, I got those a lot. Flashbacks. Nightmares. Panic attacks—you get it. All of the shit that comes with doing what we do. It..I won’t bullshit and tell you that you’ll be magically ‘cured’ one day. But I can promise you that you learn to get better at managing it.” 

Bucky nods, making his best attempt at a soft smile. 

“And I’ll be here. If you wanna talk. Like I said—I’ll help lay those skeletons to rest.” Sam said.

“No matter how many there are,” Bucky murmured as he recalled that afternoon. 

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

[oh-my-damn]

People be giving jenny too much credit sis was trying to mold herself to his taste too much while acting like she was oh so different she just failed at it and reality hit both their asses hard thus the break up . alba is the result of chris previous mistakes because he never learned from them. instead of deep diving into himself he just took all his past relationships and acted as if everyone else was the problem instead of it being a conjoint issue and realizing his part in it all. tbh alba is not that different from jenny or minka they are all women who dropped everything for his ass hoping they would be THE ONE. alba is going to see that keeping up a charade to make up for whatever lack shes trying mask within herself will get her ass just as it did the others and chris unless he learns his lessons theres going to be another jenny another minka and probably at that point another alba but considering how things are going idk he may just stick with this one because he seems to not want to change but thats just me

okay OKAY

Here we go

I can agree to this to a certain extent. HOWEVER I do not think this was the case for Jenny round two.

Round two happened around 2017/2018.

NOW

I believe what really happened, because of the way that Chris clearly is and what Jenny said in her book, is that he did not live up to his "woke feminist persona" in private life.

Now, maybe she did mold herself to him or whatever, but it was in a much smaller sense than Alba currently.

After their first breakup, Jenny got her own place that she made sure to turn into her own, and she reflected a lot on her divorce. For me, the main reason that Jenny and Alba cannot and should never be compared other than in regards to controversy and racism, is that Jenny had her own established career prior.

Jenny had her own thing, she had done quite a bit and even had comedy shows going and even did get a book deal that came out after round two.

Even if Chris leaves Alba in the dirt within a year, she will not be interesting enough to have a book deal. She couldn't even carry a Netflix show (whereas Jenny had a pretty iconic MINOR role on a show that is still remembered to this day, and has been nominated for an Oscar), and she has completely abandoned her work ever since they went public.

Jenny kept on working.

I don't think the two should be compared. No matter how much you think Jenny may have tried to alter herself to fit into Chris' world, she never truly changed herself. You can tell as much from the podcast they did, her persona, her book and who she is now.

And I think that's the deciding factor. Even a woman like Jenny Slate, who is inherently problematic because of what she has said in the past and who isn't even considered a true activist, is too much for Chris Evans.

He needs even less.

And who did he find?

Someone who is not even even less, but also someone who, even if they tried their fucking hardest, could never be as enlightened, despite her flaws, as Jenny Slate is.

Jenny Slate at least has a College degree. Alba didn't even finish High School.

He went for the uneducated 25 year old, who not only acts like a teenager, but looks like one, too.

He is truly your stereotypical, disgusting, 40+ year old white guy going through a midlife crisis.

And it is pathetic.

The entire thing is absolutely pitiful.

Jenny Slate - SOMEONE WHO HAS DISGUSTINGLY CONTROVERSIAL THINGS IN THE PAST DODGED A BULLET.

SHE. DODGED. A. BULLET.

And is now happily married with kids.

While Chris is now dating YET ANOTHER racist.

[assless-chapstick]

fic idea;

it's 8 years after highschool graduation, when Javi packed up and got the fuck outta Dodge and he has been back since. John left for a while but came back to their small-ish town and now he works tending bar at tryna make ends meet, just gettin by in his shitty basement studio apartment

So when Javi rolls into town, dressed all nice and slick like a fuckin model or something, he comes to the bar and John is all "oh shit, Javi? Javier Escuella? We went to highschool together, PlaceName High. You probably don't remember me."

Cuz nobody recognizes John from his highschool days cuz after highschool John moved to the city and transed his gender!! so when he came back maybe 6? years later yeah no one fuckin recognized him and he ain't about to share that info with much of anyone

but he and Javi had been friends in school and just drifted apart after highschool didn't stay in touch - partly on purpose cuz he stopped talking to anyone from town when he started his transition

but he moved back for reasons something something reasons

so anyway Javi doesn't recognize John but it's like "wow cool remember when Mrs Grimshaw threw that kid out a window for blah blah blah??" and they just spend the whole evening catching up!! and Javi even stays after closing and they drink together and reminisce and they get a little drunk as they're shooting the shit

and they laugh about how the queen of their senior prom was on The Bachelor and got sent home first and then there's a lull in the conversation and amicable quiet moment and then before John can stop himself he says

"God yeah... I had the biggest crush on you back then."

and he freezes cuz JESUS he just outed himself to some guy from his shitty home town who he doesn't know from Adam could be a raging homophobe??? and he's just like fuck fuck fuck in his head and Javier he just looks over all like

"Back then? What about now?" and he smiles all sexy and kinda leans in and John is like sweatin bullets

and then they fuckin pound on the pool table the end