#fuck. there's actually something *really* wrong with me.

[somnoir]

As a prompt Danny after he enters Gotham for any suddenly starts growing again for the first time since the portal incident and his body instead of slowly again decides to catch up all the missing years of growing at once so Danny goes from still looking 14 to suddenly having his father's height and looking his actual age.

Growing pains.... Literally

Since his death, Danny hasn't really... Grown. His parents think he's a late bloomer, that he'll grow later in life. But it's been four years since he's died and he hasn't grown a single inch in that time.

Frostbite is kind enough to tell me that... Well... He's stuck.

He's stuck in this form until something affects his physical form. Amity, even though it's considered the most haunted place in earth, doesn't have enough ambient ectoplasm for Danny. There are too many ghosts from the realm that feed of it, too many nevermores that need it to exist. Amity feeds it's ghosts but it doesn't have enough for a halfa like him.

When he moved to Gotham for the aerospace program (plus the scholarship) he doesn't expect much from it. People still question him about his age, it almost ends with him flinging his ID and birth certificate on people and cussing them out on his height.

He had even started exploring the city. There was this one cafe he found and the owner, Lily, was an absolute angel! With a shotgun. And he met a lot of people in Lily's Eden Cafe, like this weird kid that apparently dropped out of high school. Now, Danny ain't one to judge, so he's pretty okay with Tim. Except for the fact that he was so cool and smooth on a skateboard. Danny wanted one too.

Almost a week after moving, he's suffering. His body hurts, everything aches. It's as if something inside of him was trying to break out and it's making his bones strain. Everything about it hurts.

Many days passed of Danny being delirious from the pain, barely able to register what he was doing. A week and it's like he spent a coma walking around while his consciousness was asleep, practically dead by the lack of his memories.

The next time he woke up, it's been a week since he blacked out from the pain.

There's music in the background, almost familiar. The beat is something he heard Ember compose before his eighteenth birthday, then it was practically blasted through our the Ghost Zone when the day actually came.

"Shhh! Turn that racket down!"

"Hell nah! He likes it, see?"

"The little king seems.... To......change... Gotham..."

His eyes snapped open, gasping when he saw multiple pairs of eyes looking down at him.

"He's alive!"

Danny's instincts took over in that second and he's sending a blast of ecto towards the sudden scream. More screaming. Too much screaming. His head hurt.

"Holy shit, baby pop!"

He takes a moment before he's recognizing Ember... And the hole on his wall... And his glowing hand. Shit.

"Woah, woah! Calm down."

In Danny's confused state, he could barely register Kitty and Johnny in the room. Oh, and Shadow too. But still...

"I— What happened?" He groaned, blinking slowly. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His voice... OH MY GOD HIS VOICE! Why was it so deep?! What was wrong with his voice? Did he have a cold or something? Or maybe it's just his morning voice—

"Congrats on your dawning!" Johnny congratulated, grinning like a madman.

"What?" ooh, that was weird, "What the heck is an dawning?"

"Ooh, baby pop!" Ember cooed, "Forgot that our little king is still pretty new to being all ghost. C'mon now, baby. Mama Ember will teach you all about ghost puberty."

"GHOST WHAT?!"

Ghost puberty was a thing apparently. He had hauled himself into the Far Frozen after yelling at the four ghosts to steal him some clothes that would actually fit him. Because his entire body felt wrong... So wrong.

He was taller now. Having shot up from 5'4" to a whopping 6'2". Everything still hurt and now all his clothes didn't even fit! Nothing looked right when he'd looked at the mirror. He was almost as tall a shis dad now—he looked almost exactly like his dad now actually. It was almost terrifying how much he resembled his dad. If he went to visit now, he's sure that his mother would have a heart attack from how quickly he had grown.

"Frostbite!" Danny practically growled and oooh... Yeah, now it sounded differently to whenever he'd end up snarling. The deepness of his voice almost intimidated him.

"Great one!" The yeti greeted, looking utterly ecstatic to see him. "Ah, I see you've finished your dawning. I offer my sincerest congrats, your majesty."

"Yeah, yeah. The fuck is a Dawning?"

Frostbite blinked, before his expression morphed into a grim one. "Oh dear... I had thought that the Observants would have deigned to explain this too you upon your coronation... Well, let us sit then, great one. This will be a long one."

To summarize it all, Ghost puberty.

A Dawning was a time every ghost went through, so long as there was enough ambient ectoplasm around them to help their forms morph into their preferred appearances. Usually, a ghosts appearance to their own mentality. Their maturity.

Apparently, Young Blood already went through a Dawning but remained in his child-like form due to his own mental age. He was a child in heart, mind, soul, and body.

Meanwhile... Danny who was still alive yet also dead, had followed on with his mental maturity. His body morphed, it changed, it adapted to how he saw himself, how he desperately wanted to become deep down in his core.

And this Danny Fenton was a 6'2" giant trying to control all his limbs that were suddenly too long, too heavy. Everything felt strange....

Tim Drake's favorite cafe was known for being neutral ground for both rogues and vigilantes. You don't fuck around Lilian's cafe or else she'll pull out a rifle and shoot you dead. So if course, Tim fucking loved the place.

Actually, many people frequented it.

He's familiarised himself with the faces of a lot of people by then. Even that scrawny new kid that arrived three weeks ago. Tim remembers Danny for how enthusiastic he was about going to collage, not even minding the madness of Gotham itself. It was like he thrived in it.

He waves at Lilian after ordering his usual, taking a seat in the corner before he's whipping out his laptop. Duke and Steph arrive soon after, immediately ordering before going off to join Tim.

Mundane things, something they all seemed to appreciate more.

The bell rings, more customers arrive and—

"Danny! Holy hell, what happened?"

Tim paused, immediately snapping his eyes towards— WHAT THE FUCK?!

Steph whistled, "Hot damn..."

Danny Fenton was a scrawny young man, shorter than Tim. Even more slim.

But whoever the hell entered the cafe was 6'2", almost as muscled as Jason, and slouching like Clark—as if he was in the wrong body. He almost dropped his drink if not for Duke gently guiding his hand down.

"Hey, Lils..."

God, what the fuck was that? What was happening? Who the hell was this awkward adonis with a voice as deep as the fucking ocean?

"Tim?" Duke waved his hand over his eyes, "Timothy? Timbers?"

"Duke, leave him alone. He's gone, never coming back." Steph snickered, shaking her head before her eyes went back to Danny, who was stuttering as he tried to order what he wanted. "But damn if I wouldn't act the same. Shoot your shot—"

Shoot his fucking shot he did.

"Hey Danny..." Tim slid up to him with a smile.

Danny blinked—woah was he tall and practically built like a fucking fridge—before his eyes brightened and a smile joined his expression.

"Hi Tim!"

Was this how Bruce felt like when he saw Clark?

Masterpost

[livefromtheelephantsfoot]

I've had this sitting in my drafts for over a week bc I AGREE and I have SO many thoughts abt this.

I think one of the underlying reasons is a failure to engage with the fact that, to a lot of people at least, eugenics makes intuitive sense. I remember as a kid when I first had natural selection explained to me, and it didn't take much for me to wonder "huh, what does that mean for humans? does that mean it's a bad thing that we've insulated ourselves from stuff like disease?" (Obviously 8yo me wouldn't have said it like that, but I did wonder.) I'm almost afraid to point it out, but I really don't think it's just a me thing.

Later I learned abt Eugenics, that it was this bad evil thing that lead to genocide, and I was horrified. If I could empathize with the proponents of it, at least early on, what did that say about me? But it didn't actually answer my question. So now I had this first idea, evolution, that was obviously true and explained so much about the natural world, and this second idea that still seemed to naturally follow from it but was Bad. And I didn't know what to do with that.

And I started to notice how common the second idea was, too. The most pervasive thing I noticed was how common "Darwin Award" jokes are-- the joke, of course, being that people who die doing something stupid are making a positive contribution to the human gene pool. I don't really like those jokes. I ended up with the impression that eugenicists were right abt the human gene pool being a thing that we ought to be concerned about damaging, but they just went Too Far. You'll notice people who think this way disagree on where Too Far was. It made me uncomfortable that there could be an idea that was right, and if ignored would cause problems down the line, and at the same time acting on it was morally wrong, and everyone agreed it was a bad idea but only when called by a particular name--otherwise it's just common sense.

I don't think it was until high school that I started to understand that eugenics was, in fact, bad science. It makes sense with a surface level understanding of evolution, but the more in-depth you go, the more it falls apart. Artificial selection in dogs is such a great way to point this out. "It worked so well in dogs, why not try it in humans? Oh, wait..."

Eugenics requires the assumption that natural selection is at once a great and powerful force worthy of abandoning all morals in order to worship, while being so fragile that human civilization is at risk of overthrowing it within a couple hundred years.

Of course, the truth is that eugenicists weren't and aren't abandoning their real values in favor of what their understanding of natural selection would suggest. Eugenics was built on racism and ableism, and there is no escaping that. People latch on to ideas that validate their preexisting beliefs. You know what we can say, pretty confidently, about what's "healthy" genetically, for dog breeds and for humans? Variation. You'll notice that you don't see a lot of eugenicists advocating for interracial marriage. Even setting aside the (very important) ethical considerations for their methods, if eugenicists had their way, humanity would be barreling toward an artificial bottleneck that would REALLY fuck us over genetically.

Even that is missing nuance, though-- we're still in the realm of stick figure drawings. Genetics are really complicated. All this requires you to pretend that we fully understand what all of our genes even do, and we just don't. And that's ok! We do not, in fact, have to base public policy on whether G exists!

Natural selection is still happening to us, and if its slown down lately then I'd chalk that up to a global civilization mixing up our gene pool (which, again, is unambiguously a good thing from a genetic perspective) more than modern medicine helping disabled people have kids (which is not a new thing! we have been helping each other for millions of years). The human genome is not at risk of collapse.

We haven't even touched on poverty being a structural issue that requires people to exploit (ie, if all the poor people disappeared poverty wouldn't end, the next group up would be moved into their place) or the question of what mental health issues even ARE (I'm a proponent of the idea that, of the disorders/cases that are primarily caused by genetics, most are just the extreme ends of traits that are necessary to the general population and can't actually be removed-- extremely simplified example: everyone needs a sprinkle of neuroticism to function, sometimes someone gets a heavier dose and winds up with clinical anxiety, and every once and a while someone gets way too much and had OCD. even if environment weren't a factor at all, and even if anxiety were such a simplistic trait that we could track it with a very high degree of confidence, keeping the person with OCD from having kids wouldn't stop OCD from existing. they might be more likely to have kids with OCD, but them not having kids does nothing to the fact that OCD is a product of inherent variation that it would be a VERY bad idea to try to eliminate), or delving into IQ [even longer rant redacted].

I think sometimes people think eugenics is bad but its still true, like thinking that if people with certain traits have children it will change society for better or worse based upon what traits are promoted. I think its important to emphasize that eugenics is not only wrong morally it's also fake and stupid bullshit

Like eugenics was supposed to be based on the idea that "If it works with animals to select only the best ones to breed, why wouldn't it work with humans?"

well it doesn't work with animals, that's the thing. applying the eugenics ideas to domestic breeds of animals hasn't made better animals it's just made animals with more extreme expression of certain traits. turns out that when you decide which traits are the "best" and become obsessed with the genetic purity of the animals that have the "best" traits, you might well end up with some sad suffering creature like a Pug, or the Persian cats with the smashed faces that are in constant pain because their teeth and airways and brains are getting crushed by their skulls, or those meat chickens that grow so fast they can hardly even stand up after a few weeks old, or inbred race horses with tiny feet and fragile toothpick legs

like almost all traits are neither "good" or "bad" they're way more complex than that. a long tail or a long snout or a stubborn, independent personality can be good or bad depending on the situation. Who gets to decide what is a "good" trait or a "bad" trait? It's arbitrary and selecting for traits that are "good" in your opinion will often have both "good" and "bad" outcomes because the "good" and "bad" are part of each other and not separate its just part of being alive

Obviously oversimplifying everything but you get it. we did eugenics with dogs and how did that go? not very well

[warmilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 4- Can't hurt the Signal

*another huge timeskip

______________________________

After a few moments your shock dies down and you've accepted you've become a public figure

Then Duke walks in...

Duke walks in-

Duke.

Holy shit Duke is here!

He looks at you confused, of course they didn't introduce you "Hey.. you uhmm" he says awkwardly

"Oh I'm Bruce's other biological kid, but I'm a civilian, nice to meet you, so you're signal right?" You smile

"How...?"

"a new vigilante appears, Bruce gets another kid, come on, it's not rocket science"

"Oh! Good morning then! I'm actually pretty new to this thing and I'm a meta!" He smiles and sits right in front of you

Wow he's shining....

Mission #1359: Hurt Duke's feelings

A neglected reader is brash, she is reluctant to interact with her family members, she is jealous when Duke, someone who hasn't been in the family that long is accepted and loved, but you aren't

Time: till the end of breakfast

Penalty: Electrocution

"(Name)! This is you right!? Oh gosh, I've been hearing about you before Bruce got me!" He looks at the newspaper "see... Im- I'm an orphan-"

"Aren't half of you are?" You say

"y-yeah, okay, I actually work at daytime-"

"I know I saw you, so... How'd you end up here?"

"Like I said... I was an orphan, I actually had a pretty normal childhood, just uhm- can we not talk about this?" His eyes wince, you know that look, the pain is still raw

You can't press in, you know how he got here, you know how he lost his parents, and you can't

When you lost your Mom, you just wanted to forget about it, sure it was unhealthy but it was easier, you were lucky that the Waynes didn't care whether you were okay mentally and left you alone, they care about Duke and you can't make Duke face this

Fuck the penalty

"it was nice to meet you Duke" you go to your bedroom

"system?"

Yes?

"I can't do it- just give it to me"

Really? Very well

This was fine, it's not like it'll kill you, what's a second time being electrocuted? Right?

______________________________

"oh god!? Miss (Name), what happened you look like you got electrocuted!" Alfred grabs a hair brush and fixes your hair

"(Name)! Let's go! We'll be late for school!" Duke waves his hands, inside the car with Damian, Tim and Cass with Jason driving....

Fuck no.

You look away and continue walking, but a hand grabs the back of your jacket and pushes you inside the car "quit acting up" Dick smiled, but you can see annoyance in those eyes

"I'm not acting up!? When have I taken the car?!" You glare and pull away from him "Just get in." He grips your arm alarmingly tight and you're sure it's going to bruise

Duke tilts his head, are you two fighting? You and Dick feel his gaze and both of you reluctantly smile at each other

"You fucking bitch what the fuck are you doing?" You ask, Jason hears and turns around "You kiss your mother with that mouth?", you raise your brow "At least my mother loved me enough to kiss me"

"Just start the car Jay, don't mind the anchor" Damian glares

Well the facade of a happy family you and Dick tried to put is long gone, you hope that when they explain to Duke later they won't twist their words

Speaking of Duke, He looks confused, "What's wrong?, Did something happen?"

Mission 1360: BE SILENT

I can't believe I have to turn this into a mission, but a neglected reader should be silent, scared and obedient towards the family, I have been accepting of your crass attitude since it doesn't affect the missions, but what it does affect is the story, DO NOT TRY TO DEFEND YOURSELF

Time: the car ride

Penalty: Electrocution

"Maybe because the Princess here should just stop running her mouth, we're taking her in, but all she gave back is nothing. She's a bitch who thinks that all of us here are nothing but mental patients that belong in Arkham", Jason's grip on the wheels tighten

Fuck the mission, you're on a failing streak and you'd like to keep it

"And by the way you snap bones like they're sticks, say you hate criminals but befriend a drug addict, you do belong in Arkham" you feel bad about talking about Roy that way, Jason's probably not even sure how you knew about Roy

You feel the car start to run faster, he's not actually going to crash a car with the people he cares about right? You look around and see out of everyone in this car

If it does crash.

You're the only one who can't save yourself.

"Jason stop!" You hear Duke shout, and the car stops immediately, it would send you out of your seat if not for your seatbelt

"This is why I didn't wanna ride the car" you glare at them, you hide your hands inside the pockets of your jacket so they wouldn't see them shaking

You see that you're a block away from school and you take the chance to get the hell out of the car, "Wait! (Name)!" Duke yells, he turns to his family "What's going on!?"

______________________________

You didn't go to school yet.

You run into an empty alley, why?

Mission failed

That's why.

It's unhealthy that you are slowly starting to get used to the Electrocution

You pant and hold your heart and you sit down on the dirty concrete floor, your head is buzzing and your sweaty, your hands are shaking and you can see small zaps of electricity, you bit into your arm to muffle your screams

What the fuck are you doing, are you seriously choosing Electrocution over being insulted!?

"Didn't you want the hate meter to go up? Oh well it's UP!" You say

Not Duke's, he pities you

"You didn't say Duke was a part of this?, I thought it was only those guys!?"

That's why you needed to insult him earlier! So when you get insulted and called a bitch in the car, he'd understand you needed to be hated! But because you didn't, he now feels sorry for you and thinks the family is against you!

"The family is against me! Hello?? That's the main point of the story!"

Just- do you want the special reward or not?

"I don't even know what the special reward is!"

I can't tell you! Plus... Something's going to happen, one that can either make the hate meter go up or down, not to mention... There's a possibility the neglected reader can gain love, you can't let that happen, you'll lose the reward

"Whatever, their hatred meter is almost 100 anyway..."

But Duke can change that. You have to make him hate you as well, got it?

"Got it. Just promise me this 'special reward' is worth all of this"

It's worth more than all of this

You forgot about the newspaper.

"(Name)! You're a Wayne!??" One of your classmates came up to you

"Haha... Yeah" you laugh awkwardly

Another classmate goes near you "Why don't you use Bruce's surname?"

"Because I wanted to preserve my mom's memory" you smile

"why have I never seen you in one of the gala's

"I don't like parties" that's a lie you love them, you just don't get invited

The whole day was just you answering questions, you're partly grateful because the crowd prevented Duke to get you alone and talk about the shit show that happened in the car

When you thought it was over... You get called to the principal's office

"Miss (Name), would you like to be a student ambassador?"

(in my school, a student ambassador are students who promote the school, aka the kids you see in posters every time you see a "back to school" bill board)

"Why..?" You ask him

"Well... You are a charitable student, you're social and have good morals! You're already a model student" he says

You smile at him "Sir... I don't do this to be recognized, thank you for your offer but I'm afraid I'd have to decline"

You declined because when Dick was at school he was an ambassador, and right now so is Tim

You don't understand why he still goes to school, that guy is already the CEO

______________________________

Bruce looks at the newspaper

"helping others for years without her family knowing" he repeats

How did he not see this? Why didn't he notice that you've been helping Gotham out of your own pocket? The visits to the orphanage, the tutoring of children in poor neighborhoods

He feels guilty because he thought you were some spoiled kid who asked for too much

Now he's dreading you may have been right, the conversation two years ago...

"you're doing your best to make your already family comfortable by pretending I'm not here"

Oh god... Has he attended anything regarding you? Did he hold birthday galas for you?

He didn't

And by the way things are looking

You're perfectly fine without them.

He needs to change that

______________________________

Bruce feels like a failure.

Over the past three years he has failed to make any sort of connection with you, you seemed to be avoiding him?

And every time he does get ahold of you, you piss him off, he has to remind himself every time that he failed you as a father and he shouldn't give up on you

He tried calling you to his office and talking it out with you, he apologized for the way he treated you and that he regrets his actions but all he got was

"Do you think apologizing can make up for the years of neglect? And your children hate me, you're not going to risk them hating you as well by being nice to me, and you started this 'ignoring me' me thing, don't quit now" then you left his office

He tried throwing you a birthday party for your 13th, but you were nowhere to be found, at first he was angry, he placed so much effort into the gala only for you to not show up, you showed up late in the night and said you were out swimming with your friends, Bruce tried to yell at you, saying that you should've told him before going out and about somewhere

Then you said "How was I supposed to know you were going to celebrate my birthday? You never celebrated it before?"

Then you refused to spend your 15th with the family, specially after the incident at your 14th birthday party

Where Damian hid a small non-harming explosive in the cake and when you blew the candles out it exploded

He was going to scold Damian for that, but Barbara chimed in that this is the first time Damian played a prank and acted like a kid, was Bruce really going to punish him for having fun?

Bruce knew you had a violin concert, you invited no one but Alfred and Duke, at least you and Duke are getting along

He mourned the fact of not being able to attend your previous concerts, he bought tickets for him and the family

They were going to watch you

You were so talented... And too independent, too much of his liking, you were also kind and smart and people liked you

And he likes you too as well, you're his baby, his daughter

And he's going to do whatever to make you apart of this family

______________________________

Bruce: -100%

"Why the fuck does his hatred meter keep on going down????? What the fuck is happening?!?"

This is a problem

"Oh you think!?" You cry at the system

______________________________

Bruce: my daughter I'm sorry, let's be a family

Reader: WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO HIS HATRED METER

______________________________

@plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I have a silly thought that I would like to share with you. Sometimes, I make random noises as a sort of verbal keysmash. Wouldn't it be funny if the verbal keysmashes were somehow Lemurian swear words? Or an old Philos curse?

Gibberish … Maybe?

How I imagine the LADS men reacting to you accidentally saying something in another language. Whole time you just made a random noise and have no clue what they’re even talking about. A/N: Imagine saying "manamana doot dee de dee tee" and they think you just cursed them out in a different language

Zayne

Doorways and staircases really suck sometimes because why did you completely forget what you came in the kitchen for as soon as you walked through the cased opening. You stood there dumbfounded and made a random noise which you could only refer to as a ‘verbal keyboard smash’

Zayne: Where did you learn that? MC: Learn what? Zayne: You just said ‘Forevermore’ in latin MC: I literally made the most random noise my brain could think of Zayne: That was latin clear as day MC: How the hell do you know latin? Zayne: I studied it MC: Why? Zayne: Why not?

From then on Zayne sends you random quotes in latin just to see if you can tell what they say. You keep telling him you never learned latin and have no clue what he’s talking about. After months of him teaching you bits of latin you two have your own little secret language now.

Rafayel

Your brain must've stopped working for a second because here you are opening the oven with your left hand and reaching in with your right hand. The problem? The oven mitt is on your left hand. Just as the tip of your finger is about to hit the edge of that scalding hot cookie sheet you pull your hand back making the most random shocked noise.

Rafayel: What did you just call me? MC: What are you talking about? Rafayel: You just basically called me a barnacle muncher in glubbanese MC: Glubba what?! Rafayel: Who taught you that? MC: Nobody taught me anything what in the blue fuck are you talking about? Rafayel: Are you seeing other Lemurians? MC: I made a random noise Raf get outta my ear with all this

You turned to pull your baked goods out of the oven and set them on the stove. You quickly turned the oven off before turning back to him.

MC: Also aren’t you the only Lemurian left Rafayel: Me and my aunt Talia … wait!

He grips you by the shoulders

Rafayel: Was it her?! I knew it! I'll be back MC: NO! I-

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence as he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the front door. You try to stop him from storming out the door, but he was too fast. You stare at the door dumbfounded because you still have no clue what the actual fuck glubbanese is.

Xavier

Xavier was the perfect body pillow to lean against while you read a book. Perhaps you were a little too immersed in your book because when the major plot twist came the most unintelligible string of gibberish came out of your mouth. You felt Xavier stiffen behind you which broke you immersion.

MC: What's wrong? Xavier: Why did you say that? MC: Say what? Xavier: You just said something rather strange in Philosian MC: I said what in philosophy? Xavier: I’d rather not repeat it MC: Xav I literally just made a random noise Xavier: Well that random noise is ‘hairy anus’ in philosian MC: WHAT???

You sat up so fast you somehow managed to fall off the couch hitting your elbow on the coffee table. Xavier pulled you back onto the couch checking to make sure you were okay before you notice the grin he’s trying to hold back. He finds this whole thing hilarious.

MC: Stop laughing! Xavier: I should’ve known you didn’t mean to say that MC: I didn’t say anything I made a random noise Xavier: I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time MC: If Philosian sounds like random throat noises then yea I guess I'll be more careful

Sylus

You were laying on the plush couch in Sylus’ study while he was taking a few business calls. He said he would be done soon however the boredom was getting to you. With absolutely zero thought you blurted out a random noise. You didn’t think much of it until you looked over and saw Sylus starring at you; his brows furrowed and his head cocked. You sat up confused on why he was looking at you as if you’d just called him a no neck bitch or something.

Sylus: Where did you learn that? And when? MC: Learn what? Sylus: You just tried to curse me MC: I didn’t do anything…… Sylus: That was a curse in ancient Philosian MC: That was random gibberish Sylus: …. MC: Fix your face Sylus: Trying to get rid of me sweetie? MC: I’m not trying to do anything! Sylus: Unfortunately for you those curses don’t work on me you’ll have to try something else MC: What in the blue hell do you mean ‘try something else’ I didn’t try anything in the first place!

Ever since you supposedly tried to curse him in a language you’d never heard of he’s constantly teasing you. He checks in from time to time to see if you’ve taught yourself any new spells and you tell him the same thing every time.

MC: Sylus it was a random noise Sylus: Keep telling yourself that Sorceress

[planetsnakes]

I get this y'all right. I've never used AI to write an essay and never will

why the hell am i only given three months to write four different essays tho? Like sure some of the problem is my poor time management because I literally just became an adult.

For my dissertation I had to submit 3000 words (all jam pa ked full of fucking research) I had a couple of months to write this essay so what they did was wait until we had two months to show us how to write the essay, on a retreat which I couldn't go to thanks to getting sick. I asked if i could see the example essays another time and this just never happened due to copyright bullshit.

Now I didn't just get sick. I got really sick. 3 days in A&E just to be kicked out because they didn't find the problem. Literally everyone in my life is worried about me im so brave. The uni assured me this would be taken into consideration as long as I could get a doctors note.

I could not get a doctors note. They wont even pick up the phone it's been a month since I submitted this request.

So I spent ages setting up meetings to discuss with people in the uni my problems so they could write me a note. They didn't.

Now it's too far into the year to defer. I will lose so much fucking money if I give up now so here I go!

I completed the essay in like two weeks and I think i got something wrong on the timescale but ive been sick since november on and off getting better and worse.

I cant even remember writing a single essay for my university im fairly certain I'll never use these skills again because the only people who write academic papers are academics and I don't want to be an academic.

I can hear you saying "this isn't the norm"! Everyone goes through this at least once.

I know a lot abt uni life, I know a degree can be taken away if they found out someone cheated to get it no matter how long it's been since they got the degree. I know I didn't work this hard to never know if I could make it on my own merit

Yet there are places where the university could have supported me better. Students are expected to do so much and im gonna be so real the you're only cheating yourself narrative is just annoying. I could do this much better if every time I wasn't rushed because they gave me the resources last minute or constantly told me to check back later.

I'm fortunate enough to always get an extension when I ask thanks to my DID diagnosis & I actually considered myself lucky when I caught covid (yeah I also caught fucking covid I was sick for so long I missed so many lectures that I can't catch up on at all) but like seriously?

I haven't even mentioned the poverty, living conditions, the fact most of us have to work through uni, ow the internet changed the way unis talk to students, covid messing students up or international students and how unfair the system is to them.

I feel this could be a chance at a brilliant conversation about how much stress students are put under because even when we have the skills we don't get the opportunity to use them

[sidneywasfound]

FORCED TO COUPLE THERAPY | Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Pairing; Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary; The relationship between Charles and you these last few days has been complicated... especially in an intimate part of your relationship. Causing Charles to be in a bad mood all day, so his new teammate forces him to do couples therapy with you and a sexologist.

Warnings; Smut & Fluff,Hair grabbing,unprotected sex,Bad English writing,Talks about sex,Sex therapy,Not being able to have an orgasm,Sex problems,Charles being a jerk at first.

AUTHORS NOTE;It's not my best work, but I'll improve it in the future.

Charles was pounding You from the back,You clinged to the bed,Thinking that maybe that would make You feel something. Charles let out a whine,It really seemed like he was trying."hey...Do you want me to ride you? This happens sometimes and maybe if we change position..." You said turning your head to look at him,He looked upset and exhausted."i'm fine just- shut that precious little mouth,ok?" He said in a passive aggressive manner, making you doubt his tone."i'm sorry...just wanted to help. It's not something that can be hidden you know, I thought maybe... changing position your-" Charles let out a grunt to your statement,suddendly,he stopped and pulled out."Ok, ugh fine let's do the fucking positon." He said with annoyance sitting up,Leaning his back against the headboard of the bed."Don't be mean charles..." You said, grabbing the edge of the headboard and putting your legs on either side of Charles.

You rode him in the best way possible, a very sexy image,Your tits bouncing with every sit,You leaned back and moved your hips back and forth,Charles with his hands on your hips. "And?, You like it?" You said with a labored breath, he hums,his eyes are closed,he looks like he's trying to concentrate to feel any pleasure...and you were surprised when he managed to get an erection...But to be honest, you didn't feel anything either. "we should stop." You said leaving Charles and lying down next to him."What?!,Nono why mon chéri?." You turned around,facing your back to him."We're just tired, let's try again tomorrow." You said sharply,He just sighed and turned over to sleep.

//

Ferrari had a kind of virtual call to talk about some things about Hamilton and his adaptation to the team. His anger and bad mood were very noticeable.

//

"Good morning, My name is Sarah and I will be your therapist today".Both were sitting on two armchairs,There was a coffee table and in front of them Sarah was there,siting with a notebook and a pen."Could you two please tell me your names?" You smiled softly,while Charles was upset of being there."My name is Y/n and he's Charles,but i know you already know him" she scoffed."well i do haha,I was surprised a f1 driver like Charles actually have problems in his intimate life." The two of them opened their eyes wide and blushed."W-what? Hehe I thought this was couples therapy"You said smiling nervously "Yes... I help couples in the sexual field, I am a sexologist."She mentally hit her head and Charles gave a small gasp "FRED SENT US TO A SEXOLOGIST?!" Sarah laughed lightly."Yes, I am a support contact at Ferrari, he told me about your problems and I decided to accept."She grabbed the notebook and looked at them."should we start the session?" You nodded but Charles decides to interrumpt,Speaking proudly with his thick accent."In my defense I think they are wrong, we are fine! Our sex life is perfect." Charles said crossing his legs."Well, her face says other thing..." Sarah said, noting your overwhelmed face. Charles just growled angrily and sat up properly.

"Let's start with something simple, tell me, What is the reason You needed my help".You decided to speak when you saw that Charles was pretending that nothing was happening."I can't finish, and Charles can barely get an erection."You said sharply, Charles almost spit out the water from the glass that was on the table." I admire your confidence to Say it." Sarah said writing that down."Now that we have the problem let's start,How often do you have sexual activity?"They both felt the heat on their faces at her explicit questions."How long this will lassst?..."He said, dragging out his words in an annoyed tone.

—"Are you comfortable talking about sex and can you communicate your desires and preferences?"

—"What kind of sexual activities do you engage in?"

—"is some problem in your relationship getting in the way?"

—"do you use birth control? Does it bother you that only you use birth control?"

—"Do you feel emotionally connected during sex?..."

Shit that's it... that resonated on both of them making them raise their heads in surprise.Sarah noticed this and stopped writing down."Ok this is what we will do, some exercises to be able to connect in bed, okay?" Charles and you looked at each other in embarrassment, completely disconnected from each other.

///

"Go out to see a movie and enjoy it, and if it happens, it happens, we don't want to force the date into a 'let's do this quickly so we can have sex'

They tried and failed, now they were both lying in bed staring at the ceiling."i liked the movie" You said trying to break the awkward silence."What will happen to our relationship?" Charles said."i don't know..."You said,Putting your head on his chest."i love You"Charles said leaving you surprised."i love You too Charles" You said looking at him and giving him a kiss. It was slow and soft, he had a hand cupping your cheek. Suddenly the kiss turned passionate and wild, the two were now sitting on their knees face to face."i love You i love You" Charles said desperately between kisses."i love You too,fuck i love you" You said grabbing his hair and pulling him closer to you.

Are You guys joking? That was all that they needed? Saying i love You after a freaking date...? and also express their feelings,And go on a date after almost 1 year without going on one,And realize that they actually cared about each other. I guess it worked, because now they were riding Charles, he was immersed in your breasts,You grabbed his hair while he kissed your body."ah..Charles...fuck" You moaned as he kissed your neck while you moved your hips on his lap."

///

"Well! The problem is solve! You can now leave with these discharge papers." Sarah said giving them papers to sign."Papers?" You said confused."Yes, I must notify the Ferrari guidance team about this." Sarah said smiling kindly.Charles and you blushed knowing that probably all the Ferrari workers knows about your sex life."haha...Now everyone knows we couldn't have sex."You scoffed nervously."oh don't be naive!,everyone have problems once in their life with sex! Last week Lewis had a session." Charles eyes went wide."oh god...This paper will look bad on Fred's desktop but now I can make fun of Lewis!" He said joking.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

in my head - m.s.

part two of avery’s playlist series

pairing: reader x matt sturniolo

cw: alcohol, smut (unprotected sex, f!receiving oral, fingering), explicit language

wc: 6k

in my head, i see you all over me

in my head, you fulfill my fantasy

It was like a sixth sense, really, the way you could feel when anybody was staring at you when you weren’t looking. It was something you’d always had a feeling for since you were young, like any time a pair of eyes landed on you, you could feel it burning into your skin.

It was also something you had learned to ignore when you were around your friends, always feeling a constant stare when your head was turned, blue eyes unable to tear themselves away from your frame. You were used to it at this point, the way he looked over at you any chance he got. You were also used to him refusing to admit that he was looking at you, no matter how many times you caught him staring, he’d always deny it, say he was just spaced out or looking past you. You never believed him.

Today was no different, even in the crowded house with music blaring and your mind fuzzy from the alcohol you’d consumed, you could still feel Matt staring at you from where he was leaned against the wall, a fruity seltzer held in his hand as he peered your way. The two of you have been friends for years, but lately it felt like you’ve drifted apart due to how weird he’s gotten around you, and now when you came over, you mostly just talked to his brothers, Nick and Chris, since Matt had always excused himself after you caught him staring.

Matt was always a little bit odd, but he’d gotten more so over the last few months, and you’d gotten sick of trying to reel him back in, finally just deciding to let him pull away from the friendship if that’s what he really wanted.

Alcohol had always made you a little bit bolder, though, and today was no exception, so when you caught Matt’s eye across the room and he actually held your gaze, you couldn’t help yourself from marching over until you were right in front of him, your eyes determined as you approached him. He kept his eyes locked on you, an almost amused smirk playing on his lips at your attempt to be serious.

“Matt,” you start sternly, crossing your arms once you’re in front of him. He’s thoroughly enjoying the way you try to act bigger than you are, though he can tell by the glazed over look in your eyes that it wasn’t raw confidence that had you running up on him, but more of a liquid courage influence. He didn’t mind, in fact, he thought it was amusing. He stays silent, only raising his eyebrows as he peers at you over his can, waiting for you to continue. “We need to talk.”

Matt finishes his drink and sets it down on a nearby table before crossing his arms to match your stance, chest puffing out as his eyes narrowed. “About what?” He inquires, head tilting like a dog.

You weren’t deterred by his attempts to be dominating, though. “About your fucking staring problem.”

He raises an eyebrow like he’s at a complete loss. “What staring problem?”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, dropping your arms to your sides in disbelief. “You think I don’t see you staring at me all the time? I can feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head!”

Matt is fully smirking at you now, his expression teasing. “I never stare at you. I look at you sometimes, like now when you’re talking, but I’m never staring at you.”

The distinct presence of alcohol makes your eyes feel heavy and your brain moves slower, only able to process his words a few seconds after he said them, but you refused to be gaslit into thinking that you were wrong, that you didn’t see what you know you saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” you say loudly, reaching up to point a finger in his face. “You can’t take advantage of me just because I’m drunk.”

The next words that he said are what really throw you off guard, to the point where you almost blamed the alcohol for it, and if you were even one drink further into your night you would’ve, but your comprehension levels were still sharp enough to catch the weight of his words as he leans in close to your ear.

“If I wanted to take advantage of you while you were drunk, lying isn’t the way I’d do it.”

It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, like an unspoken boundary had been crossed and you had no idea how to react to it. Except your mouth moved faster than your brain, and you spoke before you could even think to stop yourself.

“What?!” You shriek, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?!”

Matt rolls his eyes at your volume before he swiftly forces your body in the other direction with his hands and swings an arm over your shoulder. “It means we need to get some water in you.”

You’re offended at his suggestion, scoffing loudly as he led you into the kitchen, keeping a strong grip on you. “I am not that drunk, Matt. Could pass a sobriety test with ease.”

“You’re drunk enough to get confrontational, that’s how I know you need to slow down,” Matt retorts, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the counter and handing it to you.

You want to refuse, to shake your head and push his hand away, but when you turn your head to look up at him, the room spins a little bit, and you know it’s probably for the better that you have some water. Once you do grab it from his hands, you drank almost half of the bottle in one go before handing it back to Matt, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “There, happy now?” You sass.

Matt sets the bottle down on the counter, his other arm still swung over your shoulders. “Sure, now go dance with Nick or something,” he comments, nodding his head in his brother’s direction.

Your confrontational behavior hasn’t dissipated, though, in fact it only feels spurred on by the way Matt is staring down at you, like it’s funny the way you tried to talk to him, like he thinks your attempts at calling him out are adorable. It’s not adorable, you’re serious, and the fact that he doesn’t think you are has you heating up all over again.

In a quick motion, you grab his hand from your shoulder and start walking away, your grip on him tight as you drag him through the crowds of people and into his room. With all the strength you can muster, you pull him in through the doorway and push him in front of you, slamming the door after you’re both in the room.

“I am done dealing with you staring at me all the time and acting like you’re not!” You snap loudly at him, arms crossing over your chest once again. “I may be drunk and confrontational, but you’re drunk, too, so let’s just get this conversation over with so we can go back to being like we were before.”

Matt rolls his eyes at you, huffing like a child. “I’m not as drunk as you,” is all he says.

“Oh, please, like you weren’t just leaning up against the wall out there, or using your arm around me to keep your balance.” You point a finger at him accusatorially. “You’re leaning on your desk right now!”

“Yeah, because my ankle hurts,” Matt shrugged it off, but the way his eyes closed as he spoke made it all the more obvious what the truth was.

By the time his eyes reopen, you’ve marched over to him, your bodies only a couple feet apart now. “Enough. Stop fucking staring all the time or tell me why you do it.” You demand.

He’s getting frustrated again, and you can see it in the way he sucks in a deep breath, like he’s trying to stop himself from getting angry, or maybe he’s trying to stop himself from telling you the truth, trying to fight against the alcohol swimming through his bloodstream. He’s close to cracking, and all you need to do is push a little harder.

“Did I do something to make you mad? You barely talk to me anymore, and every time you do it’s like someone’s twisting your arm behind your back to do it.” Your voice is a bit quieter now, back to a normal speaking volume with a hint of sadness seeping in. “I used to be the closest to you and now it’s a chore to even get you to talk to me.”

Matt groans and leans his head back on his shoulders for a moment before picking it back up and meeting your gaze again. “You didn’t make me mad,” he replies.

“Then what?!” You push, hands flopping to your sides in annoyance. “Why are you so weird now?! You never talk to me, you’re always fucking looking at me and pretending you’re not, you’re always trying to avoid being in the same room as me alone and I am so fucking sick of-“

“What do you want me to say?!” Matt interrupts loudly, pushing himself off the desk and one step closer to you. Your eyes widen in shock as the distance starts to close between you, not expecting him to be so loud. Though the next words out of his mouth had your mind reeling and wondering if maybe you both were a little too intoxicated to be having this conversation. But maybe it was perfect.

“Do you want me to say that every fucking time I look at you, all I can think about is how much better you’d look underneath me? On top of me?” He starts lowly, taking another step closer. “Do you want me to say that I get carried away looking at you because I’m fantasizing about what I want to do to you? That I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make you feel good and hear your pretty voice moaning my name?”

Your heart feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you listen to him, pounding away and making your hands shaky, adrenaline running through you at his admission. It was the last thing you expected him to say, a confession of desire, the words ripping all of the air from your lungs.

You’re brought back when the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall backwards on it, hands catching you and resting behind you. The switch in angle has you staring upwards at Matt, the man that was your best friend, lashes fluttering as he gazed down at you, eyes darkening at the sight of you.

“Matt…” you whisper, shaking your head, unsure of what to say.

“You feel fucking stupid pushing so hard now, don’t you?” Matt sneers, leaning over so he’s hovering above you, faces inches apart. “Should’ve just left it the fuck alone.”

You swallow thickly, trying to ignore your nerves and the way the hair on your arms was standing straight up, goosebumps forming from how close he was to you.

“I don’t feel stupid,” you say quietly, pausing for a moment as you stare into his eyes, taking in his expression. His jaw is clenched tight, like he’s angry, but you know it’s his way of trying to hide the way he really feels; scared of how you feel. His eyes are searching yours for any sign of feeling the same, like he’s desperate for any sense of reciprocation. His chest is heaving as he leans over you, trying to breathe through the way his heart was racing, willing it to slow down in vain. You take a deep breath yourself, readying yourself for the shift.

“Just wish you told me sooner.”

Your hand comes up to grab onto his shirt to pull him in, closing the distance between you both, lips crashing together. He loses his balance when you pull him down, hands stopping himself on either side of you when he pushes you down flat on the bed, kissing you back like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

His lips are molded to yours perfectly, only parting to let his tongue slip into your mouth and meet your own, tasting the drink he finished right as you walked up to him. His left arm shifted so he was resting on his elbow next to your head, right hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers splayed out in your hair as he used his grip to keep you close to him.

Even though you initiated the kiss, you’re still taken aback at how desperate his movements are, taking a moment to collect yourself and kiss him back just as enthusiastically, right hand keeping its grip in his shirt while your other one comes up to mirror his, tangling in his hair.

“Matt,” you gasp in between kisses, whining softly when his lips trail over your cheek and down your neck, leaving soft but hungry kisses across your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, teeth nipping softly before he continues his descent, pushing your shirt up until it’s bunched under your arms, moving his lips between the valley of your breasts. “You look so fucking good tonight, was like torture watching you walk around like I didn’t want to rip your clothes off.”

The giggle you let out is breathless, a mix of laughter and a whine, head tilted down as you watch him as he kisses down your stomach, hands moving to slide down your waist, gripping your hips when he reaches them. “You can take my clothes off if you want to,” you say nervously. His attention is immediately drawn back to your face, movements pausing at your words. “Yeah?” He rasps, voice low and quiet.

You nod, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he slides down your body and onto his knees between your legs, hands rubbing over your thighs. Your bottom half was adorned in a black mini skirt that already started riding up from the way he settled between your legs, your thong peeking out from underneath it, clinging to your skin from the way you were already getting soaked.

“This skirt looks so fucking good on you,” Matt praises, slipping off the end of the bed until he was on his knees, pulling you closer towards the edge until his face was only a few inches above your core. “Wondering why I’m looking at you when this shit barely covers your ass.”

“I wore it for you,” you admit shyly, watching as his hands slid up and down your skin, fingers gripping into your flesh every few seconds, like he couldn’t believe he was finally in this position, lips dragging up the skin of your inner thighs slowly.

“Oh, yeah?” He mumbles, almost absentmindedly.

“Mhm,” you reply, watching as his face gets closer and closer to where you want him. “Was hoping maybe if I dressed hot enough you’d finally crack, get the balls to shoot your shot.”

Matt drags his nose up your inner thighs, kissing occasionally until his face is right pressed into your panties, the thin fabric being the only barrier separating your bodies from what you both craved so badly. His tongue slips past his lips to flatten on your folds through your underwear, a small groan leaving his lips. “Was gonna shoot my shot anyway, just thought I’d have time for one more drink before you got all bitchy on me.”

A gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of his tongue on you, wanting nothing more than to rip the flimsy thong off and fling it across the room. “Calling me a bitch with your head between my legs is a little ridiculous, Matt,” you tease breathlessly, keeping your eyes locked on him. His hands move to push your skirt upwards before his fingers tuck themselves into the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “Sorry, next time I call you a bitch I’ll make sure I’m not about to eat you out.”

You scoff at his sarcastic response and roll your eyes, expecting nothing less than him making some snarky comment. His nose dips down and buries itself in the fabric again, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in a deep breath, moaning on the exhale. “Holy fuck.” He groans out before he tucks his fingers into the front of your underwear and ripped them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him, drooling in anticipation.

“Are you…” you stare down at him incredulously, eyes wide. “Are you smelling me?”

Matt looks back up at you with an exasperated expression, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?” He replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you have any idea how good pussy smells? How good it tastes? God, I could get off on that alone.”

You shake your head in disbelief at him, to which he releases a small laugh, shooting you a wink before dipping his head back down and pressing his lips between your folds, planting a small kiss on your clit as his hands push your thighs apart, spreading you wide open to be used by him. “Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. His hands wrap around your thighs and his fingers dig into the skin on the inside of your legs, kneading them softly as his tongue starts to work between your folds, quiet moans leaving him as the taste of you flooded his senses.

The sounds you made weren’t as quiet, the volume of your whines starting to fill the room, grateful for the music blaring through the rest of the house to drown you out. Your head fell back on your shoulders as your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on his tongue on you and the way his hands never stopped moving, whether it was his thumbs stroking over your skin or his palms rubbing up and down.

“Fuck, Matt…” you whimper, dropping your elbows out from underneath you so your back was flat on the bed, body already reacting to the way his mouth was moving on you, thighs starting to shake on either side of him.

He was eating you out in a way you’ve never felt before, his actions hungry and fueled by lust, lips and tongue working in tandem as he practically made out with your drooling core, the squelching of his mouth meeting your heat filing your ears. “Matt,” you warn, reaching down to grab at his hair, pushing him off of you.

He pulls away reluctantly, staring down at you with glazed over eyes, his mouth and chin glistening from the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. “What?” He questions, furrowing his eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathing heavily. “Just close ‘n I don’t wanna finish yet.”

Matt’s confused at your words, staring down at you like he doesn’t quite understand, head tilting slightly as his lips parts to speak. “That’s kind of the whole point of what I’m doing,” he states.

“But… I wanna have sex,” you reply like it’s obvious.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” Matt lets go of your thighs and runs a hand through his hair, growing more puzzled. “Do you not want me to eat you out?”

Your cheeks are darkening in embarrassment the more this conversation drags on, your hands coming up to cover your face. “I do! You’re really good at it! I just don’t want to cum before you actually… fuck me.”

“Why?” Matt snorts out a laugh, crawling onto the bed and hooking his hands under your thighs again, dragging you up the bed until your head was almost at the headboard, his own body moving to hover over yours. “I’ll just make you cum again. And again…” he leans down until his lips are touching your ear, one hand moving to rub over your clit gently, his two middle fingers rubbing through your slit. “And again, til you can’t even think straight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he manhandles you, the way he pushed your body up the bed like it was nothing creating a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach. “Really?” You questioned quietly, not used to men even really caring about getting you off even once.

“Mhm,” Matt hums into your ear, lips trailing down over your neck. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod your head quickly, nervously. “Just never came more than once before.”

Matt snorts against your collarbone, dipping his two fingers inside of you, your pussy putting up no resistance to him, sucking him in greedily. “Probably because you sleep with a bunch of fucking losers.” He comments, following up his words by sucking a mark into the fleshy mound on your chest barely covered by your bra anymore.

Your back arches off the mattress when his fingers curl inside you, a loud whimper leaving your lips as your hands grip the sheets on either side of you. “Oh my god,” you moan out, ignoring the comment he made. You’ll have to remember to scold him later.

“How ‘bout you just lay there and keep making those pretty noises, yeah?” Matt smirks, sliding down the bed again until his mouth is back on your soaked heat, groaning against your clit when the taste hits his tongue again.

Obsessed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what he’s feeling, how his mind is absolutely reeling from the way he’s got you coming apart underneath him. The way you taste, the way you sound, it’s all making his mind fuzzy, the buzz from the alcohol fading into the distance as he becomes more pussy drunk than anything in the moment. He’s trying to keep himself from losing control and fucking you into oblivion, grounding himself by listening to the sweet sounds you made.

“So good, Matt, right there,” you cry out, chest heaving as he brings you back to the brink of your orgasm, knuckles turning white against his black sheets. “Fuck, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, one of your hands coming down to thread in his hair, this time holding him against you instead of pulling him off.

“Mhmm,” he moans into your skin, tongue lapping up your juices fervently, fingers keeping pace inside of you.

The way his voice rumbled against your clit was all you needed to send you over the edge, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you moaned loudly, thighs trembling around Matt’s head.

He coaxed you through it, fingers and tongue unrelenting until you were lax and whimpering against the bed, legs twitching from overstimulation with every movement. Matt pulled his lips away, placing one more small kiss on your clit before looking up at you, smiling at how spent you looked, hair sticking to your forehead and your teeth buried in your hand from trying to keep quiet. “You covered up your pretty mouth,” he fake pouts, crawling back up the bed so his face is above yours. “Now I gotta make you cum again.”

You stare up at him breathlessly, watching as his face comes back into view, his expression dark as he stares at you. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t wanna be too loud.”

“No such thing,” Matt smiles, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips softly. You melt into the kiss, instantly returning it and tasting yourself on his mouth, something you’d hated in the past but felt immensely turned on by in this situation. He only kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away and gazes down at you again. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod excitedly, agreeing instantly. He climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt over his head before walking to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, throwing it next to you on the bed. Your eyes watch the small foil pack as it lands next to you, feeling your heart rate pick up at the realization that this was actually happening. You were about to let your best friend have his way with you in his room during a fucking party, not caring who would hear, and especially not caring about what this would do to your relationship in the moment. Those were consequences you’ll face later, but right now all you could think about was having Matt buried deep inside you.

“Matt?” You sit up slowly and look up from the condom, letting your eyes trail over him, landing on his hands that were working on the button on his jeans, then slowly dragging his zipper down. He hums in response, urging you to continue. You clear your throat nervously, reaching out to pick up the condom. “I haven’t been on birth control for years just for you to not fuck me raw.”

Matt’s lips part as he sucks in a small breath, watching as you tossed the condom back onto the bedside table before smiling up at him. “You serious?” He asks, pushing his jeans down until they fall on their own, stepping out of them before kneeling back over you, his hand coming up to hold onto the back of your neck. You nod again, just as enthusiastic as the first. “Yeah,” you respond softly. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Matt groans and grabs your shirt to finally pull it fully off, throwing it across the room before he helps you out of your bra as well. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he grumbles, shoving you back down onto the bed. A small giggle leaves your lips as he throws you down, hair fanning out over the pillow. The only thing you were left in was the black mini skirt that Matt was obsessed with, the material shoved up and bunched around your hips. It was completely out of the way of what was important, and Matt had no intentions of removing it from you.

Your folds and inner thighs were completely soaked when you spread your legs open for Matt to settle between, the wet skin glimmering in the dim lights of his room, a sight that Matt had to force himself to tear his eyes from so he wouldn’t finish too quickly. “You have no idea how pretty your pussy is, do you?” He mumbled, pushing his briefs just low enough for his dick to spring out, so hard it almost hurt when the cool air hit it. Your ears burned hot at his words, shaking your head gently. “No, I don’t. Wanna tell me how pretty it is?” You reach down to grab the backs of your knees, pulling your legs up and apart to expose yourself to him even more.

“Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry but I’m already about to bust in my pants, can I just…” he clears his throat and reopens his eyes, looking down at the glorious sight below him; you staring up at him as you pull your legs wide open for him, pussy on display and glistening just for him, patiently waiting to pull him into your walls. His hand comes down to wrap around his aching cock and you watch as he starts to jerk himself off, small moans and whimpers leaving his lips, jaw slack from the pleasure.

It takes him less than a minute to stroke himself to his climax, hips stuttering as he coaxed out his load all over your stomach and added to the mess adorning your lower half, your own jaw dropping as you watch him cum all over you. “That was fucking hot,” you praise, a sinister smile forming on your lips.

He laughs, taking a few deep breaths before he situates his hips against yours, resting his tip against your entrance. “Thanks. I was not going to last at all and I’ve always wondered what you’d look like covered in my cum, so.. two birds.” He joked.

You’re about to laugh with him when he shoves himself inside you, bottoming out in one thrust. The movement rips a gasp from your lips, face contorting in a mix of pleasure and pain from the sudden stretch. “Oh!” You squeak out, locking eyes with Matt as he drags his own gaze up your body to stare down into your eyes. “My fucking god,” he groaned, slowly dragging his cock out of you before pushing back in, pulling a soft whine out of your lips. “Holding that pussy wide open for me, hm?”

You bite your lip harshly as your head drops back onto the pillow, eyes rolling back as Matt starts up a quick rhythm, his cock deliciously dragging through your walls. The angle of your legs being pushed up had him hitting every sweet spot inside of you, your voice growing hoarse from how much you were whining and moaning, hands starting to lose your grip on your legs. “C’mon, baby, don’t let up now, show me how pretty you look taking my cock so well.”

You’re trying your best when you readjust your grip on the backs of your knees, but the mixture of sweat and how weak you felt made the task difficult, your hands sliding around and unable to get a good grip. “Can’t, Matt,” you whimper, opening your eyes again to look back up at him, silently begging for help. He notices your struggle and pushes your hands away with his own, spreading his fingers out on the backs of your thighs to push them against you, the new angle of his cock inside you making you cry out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there, please don’t stop, need you right there.” You babble on, staring up at Matt as his eyes stay trained on where your bodies meet.

“Touch yourself, princess,” Matt demands, forcing his gaze up to meet yours, admiring the way your eyes were glazed over and half covered by heavy eyelids. “If you can’t hold your legs up you gotta touch yourself for me, baby.”

You’re taken aback, not used to such demands. Normally the guys you slept with didn’t even care about if you finished or not, and now here Matt was making sure you came at least twice. It was a bit confusing at first, but you eventually processed his words, eyebrows furrowing. “But, Matt, I-,”

He cuts you off with a sharp dig into your thighs with his fingers, silencing you immediately. “Fucking touch yourself for me,” he says again, leaving no room for argument. “Wanna see you cum all over me, see your pretty face and hear how good you sound.”

Really, who were you to deny such a convincing statement? Especially when he asked so nicely.

“Fuck,” you whisper in defeat, bringing your hand between your legs and taking a deep breath before pressing your two middle fingers into your clit, whimpering softly as you drew small circles around it, the pleasure of that mixing with the way Matt still thrust into you making you clench your eyes shut again, moaning as your head dug back into the pillow, back arching into the pleasure. “Oh my god, so good, Matt.”

Once he saw your eyes close again, Matt looked down to where your hand was picking up speed on your sensitive nerves, your movements and his grinding matching up in pace until your legs were trembling again, still held in place by his rough grip. “That’s perfect, baby, shit, you’re fucking made for me, hm? Made to take me all the way like this?”

“Yes,” you choke out, throat starting to straight from how hard you were rubbing yourself, breath starting to catch in your throat. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god, Matt, I’m cumming again,” you gasp, whole body tensing up for a few seconds before your orgasm crashed over you, your whole body shaking and legs trying to close but unable to due to Matt holding them in place. He’s groaning loudly, thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he chased his own high, his mouth dropping in pleasure when he finally reached his peak, loud, attractive moans spilling from his lips.

Matt’s own eyes are screwed shut as he paints his release over your walls, breath shaky as he slows down, unaware of how hard he’s gripping into your skin until you whine his name out and push your legs out of his grip. When he lets go, his forearms come down to rest on either side of your head, his face burying in your neck.

“Fuuuck,” he groans tiredly, still buried inside you. “Y’have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like that.”

You laugh, running a clammy hand over his equally sweaty back, patting his skin in a teasing matter. “Glad you got it out of your system.” You reply.

His head pops up after you speak, staring down at you questioningly. “Oh, I didn’t. I’ve still got plenty of fantasies to run through.” Matt tells you, and though his tone is silly, you know he’s completely serious, so you raise your eyebrows at him inquisitively. “Did this not fulfill your fantasies?” You ask him.

He scoffs and sends you a classic Matt eye roll, like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking him that. “It did, but only some. I’ve got like a year’s worth of filthy shit I wanna do to you.” He tells you, dipping back down to nip at the soft skin on your neck, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before letting go, blowing over the wet spot to make you shiver. “Like mark you up, fuck you all over my house, in my car, in the shower, I wanna fuck you on your hands and knees, wanna watch you ride me, wanna fuck that pretty, pretty mouth of yours, wanna hear you beg for me…” his lips are moving down your skin as he speaks, leaving soft kisses along his route until he’s nestled between your breasts, pulling away to look down at your body. “Wanna be able to call you mine,” he confesses, leaning back in to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. The feeling made you whine softly, your core tingling in anticipation, even though you were spent and anymore contact might make you cry.

“Matt,” you huff, reaching up to grab his face and push him off, looking down at his pouty expression. “Everything is so sensitive, feels like my skin is on fire.”

He smiles down at you, like he’s taken your words in the complete opposite direction you meant, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perfect, so you can give me one more, yeah?”

You’re still processing what he’s said by the time he’s scooted back down the bed and positioned his face between your legs once again, a big grin on his face. You’re about to push him away and tell him you can’t take anymore, you’re too overstimulated to give him anything else, but when his mouth comes forward and starts working on you again, you’re silenced aside from the loud groans and whines coming from your lips, deciding one more couldn’t hurt.

-

a/n: matt’s favorite adjective for you is pretty. clearly (:

also welcome to my playlist series! leave requests for songs you’d like me to write songs based off of

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah

@sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo

@secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff

@imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside

@sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo

@sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003

@poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga

[quarterlifekitty]

(just had a gynecologist appt this morning and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a dog Soap would be about it)

he’d beg to watch or something like the perv he is

or maybe if we’re being really nasty:

gynecologist!Soap that only chose this profession so he can stuff his fingers into pussies all day :(( he doesn’t discriminate either, he likes all kinds of cunts!! Can’t have any pussy suffering or feeling sick on his watch (he’s a pussy pronoun user)

But he gets real excited when a pretty thing like you walks into his office, likes making you squirm and blush all awkwardly

don’t worry about it, bonnie, s'all part of the exam :3 he’s just checking if your g-spot is healthy!! There she goes, soaking his fingers and trying to suck him in deeper <3

You know there were a lot of boys who said that thing about wanting to be gynecologists in middle school and I will never forget my music teacher saying “you know that women usually go to the gynecologist when there’s something wrong with them, right?” And they shut the fuck up

Also I believe @/peachesofteal has a gyn!Price AU that I recommend you check out if you’re into that.

lol NO ONE walks into the obgyn and expects seeing a built dude with a Mohawk basically busting out of his scrubs and smiling at you with wolf teeth.

Also YES pussy pronouns. A staple of the 141, imo.

And this may be too freak nasty for you but uhhhm…. DentistsOffice!141.

CW: medical, dental, dubcon/noncon, obsession, somno

Obsessed with you and shoving their fingers in your mouth and against your teeth. Let’s be real Soap would love smelling your breath and every day is a constant battle for him to resist spitting in there right after he tells you to open wide.

Price and Nikolai looming over you, remarking on your oral hygiene, stroking the tips of your canines. Calling you a good girl every time you follow any instruction whatsoever— opening your mouth, rinsing with all of the mouthwash, moving your tongue out of the way. The way they praise your good care and tut when you’ve been slacking is insanely motivating

You know Soap is obsessed with the molds they make of your teeth (I know that’s orthodontic primarily don’t @ me). If he uses some silicon in the molds to take a little something home that’s his business iykyk

Gaz who’s the resident anesthetist. And you KNOW they always recommend general anesthesia for every fuckin minor procedure they can so you can be passed out and vulnerable under them. Gaz gently explaining what it’s going to feel like as you go under, telling you to keep counting as the mask gets secured over your mouth.

And if you insist you can’t go under general, you don’t have anyone to come with you or drive you home after, that’s ok. Their technician Simon is actually getting off his shift around when the procedure ends. He’d be happy to drive you home and help you rinse with saline, replace your cotton :) and if something else happens to slip in your mouth while you’re still all dazed and relaxed, what’s the harm?

And miraculously, your insurance (I know I look like an American rn don’t @ me) always covers the whole thing with no issue! They just call them up, and suddenly the copay disappears. So it’s no trouble to go often— you might as well take advantage!

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

also, something crucially important is that you can let go of what someone did without forgiving them. functionally, it’s practically identical to forgiving someone who you don’t keep in your life anymore (be that by your choice, theirs, or merely circumstances), bc it’s only in your own head either way. you’re not going to hit this person up to say you forgive them if you don’t want to keep that connection open, and you’re not going to hit them up to say you’ve moved on and you’re letting go, either. the only difference, truly, is that choosing to let go instead of forgive the other person centers YOU over them.

if someone isn’t in your life anymore, it doesn’t really matter to them if you privately and internally forgive them or not, nor does it matter to them if you let go or hold on. it can’t matter to them when they can’t know what your decision is. when people say you need forgiveness for your peace, what they actually mean is that you need to let go of what happened and not hold on to anger or pain or sorrow. but forgiveness isn’t necessary to let go of all that stuff.

i’ll never forgive my first two exes for what they did to me, one of them having been overtly abusive (to the point that after breaking up with me, she manipulated my next gf into breaking up with me too so she could lure me back in, and it worked) and the other having been more mild than her younger counterpart but she was simply 18 dating a 14-year-old and expecting her 14-year-old partner to act her age, which was 4 years older than my age at that time. both of these girls, now women, hurt me immensely. and i still have work to do to uncover exactly how much they hurt me and what i can do to keep their effect on me from affecting others around me, through me… but i HAVE let go. i can’t hold that anger and pain and sorrow from 10 years ago anymore. i can’t change the fact that they did what they did to me. i can only tell myself that i refuse to let them continue holding power over me, and release that power by letting go of what they did and their presence in my mind. i did this quite a while ago, when one of them texted me a long rambly message and, instead of telling her how fucked up she was for dating someone 4 years younger than her at 18 and expecting me to act like someone her age, i just told her she had the wrong number and then blocked her. this was about 5 years ago now. at that moment i realised that i didn’t want to be miserable like that. she had held onto whatever hurt she got out of our relationship for like 5 years at that point, to the point she couldn’t be in the room when a movie we both used to love came on and restrain herself from sending me a text, wailing as a wounded animal. i didn’t want that kind of future.

i still think about them both, but i’m over being miserable about it. i have shit to unpack but when i’m done, i’ll be done. i’m not trying to wallow in that. THAT’S what letting go and protecting your peace is about. that’s the core of it. you can choose to forgive them, or you can choose not to, but you can’t wallow in your pain. it’s hard, but you have to let it go. it’ll only burn you more if you hold on.

it’s not about forgiveness. that part is completely optional. it’s about release

Think I used to get bogged down in “do I forgive this person” “do I even out the scales” “should I stand my ground” but really the question I should be asking is “what would be better for me” bc really. What would be better for me in the long term. What would stay true to my self respect and boundaries and values? What would provide the best outcome? What would make the most of our time? Sometimes that’s forgiveness and sometimes it’s not and I don’t think either route is necessarily morally superior to the other so long as it minimizes harm and is fair while also prioritizing your happiness

[muwapsturniolo]

Preheat the oven 🎛️ C. Sturniolo

"what temperature is the oven?"

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD, cringy kinda, awkward shit, second hand embarrassment, foreplay, fingering, sex is mentioned but actual penetration does not happen.

You were dry, dryer than the Nevada desserts on a summer day.

It wasn’t your mouth that was dry, it wasn't your skin, - your vagina was dried up like herbs, parsley if you will.

You thought he knew what he was doing, he talked big game, going on and on about the multiple girls he slept with and made squirt.

It was obvious he was lying.

He was already trying to whip his dick out and fuck you with no type of foreplay and you weren't having it.

"Ok ok stop!" You finally say, pulling back from the sloppy and a bit overwhelming kiss. He wasn't a horrible kisser, he just used too much tongue and you swear you could taste the Shepards pie on his breath. He looks at you breathlessly, an eyebrow raised in confusion. You could tell he was lost, not understanding why you stopped him from going further.

"What? What’s wrong?" He questions, his breathing ragged and brows furrowed. You open your mouth but no words come out.

How were you suppose to tell him you weren't turned on?

"This...This isn’t working..."

Was that too mean?

"What do you mean? Do you want to stop?"

You sigh and slowly but gently push him back, using your elbows to push yourself up.

"No I just...-" you huff in frustration. There's really no other way to say this besides being honest and blunt about it.

"I’m not turned on."

It's comical the way he blinks, almost looking like Mr. Krabs.

"You’re....You’re not turned on? Why?"

Now it’s your turn to blink like a SpongeBob character. You swear if you listened hard enough, you could hear the wet-cartoon “plink” sound.

He couldn’t be this serious and oblivious…right?

The look on his face tells you otherwise.

"Because you’re not doing foreplay!" You exclaim, moving to stand up and grab your things. He stops you, grabbing your arm and gently holding you in place.

"What do you mean I’m not doing foreplay? We were making out for what seemed like hours!"

"It was 3 minutes, don’t be dramatic. And you immediately tried to shove your dick in me after those 3 minutes. I'm dry as fuck and need some type of foreplay Chris! You have to preheat the oven! Do you even know what you're doing?''

He glares before rubbing over his face in frustration.

He knew you were right, this wasn’t exactly the first time he's heard this complaint, but the others were at least a bit nicer.

"Fine...we'll do some foreplay. Just tell me what you want."

You give him a disinterested look, scoffing in response.

"Hey, do you want to fuck or not? If I remember correctly, you were the one that came on to me."

You grumble in frustration knowing he was right. You did come on to him, who wouldn't? He was attractive and knew how to sweet talk.

With a roll of your eyes, you lay back down on the bed, pulling him on top of you.

"Just...just kiss me and act like im your girl friend or something, like you actually care."

It seems like he understands your directions, immediately pressing his lips against yours. His hands grips at your hip, squeezing them softly.

The harshness that once was is long gone, this kiss more delicate and making you want more. He begins to grind against you, the bulge in his pants pressing harshly against your clothed center. You buck your hips, the feeling of the slight stimulation feeling too good.

He smirks into the kiss and trails his hands upward towards your chest, fondling your breasts through the thin material of your tanktop. You couldn't help but gasp as he tweaks at your nipples, the tingles going straight to your core.

You could feel yourself getting wet, but you needed more.

With that, you quickly take off your shirt, your actions giving him a clear indication of what you want and need.

He trails his sloppy but thought out kisses down your jaw and to your chest, his lips wrapping around your hard nipples. He gently sucks at them, his teeth light as he nibbles.

Whines and soft pants escape your mouth, the bucking of your hips growing more evident - It was clear you were now the eager one.

With a wet pop he pulls away from your breasts, looking up at you with a knowing smirk.

"What temperature is the oven?"

"199 degrees. Shut up and keep going. "

He attaches his mouth back to your hardened nipple immediately, but he adds something to the mixture. He snakes his hand down between the both of you, working at the tie on your sweatpants. He soon pushes his hands down your pants, his fingers swirling around your clothed clit.

"300," You whimper out, your legs spreading giving him better acess.

He hums and continues circling your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn't want you cumming just yet, although you would be more sensitive if you did experience an orgasm like this.

"50 more degress," he says just as he slides two of his fingers into your clenching hole. He smirks against your chest as your back arches slightly, his fingers plunging in and out of you at a drastic pace.

This was it, this is what you needed.

He only needed a little guidance, a small push in the right direction.

You moan loudly as he curls his fingers and bites down on your nipples at the same time, an orgasm you weren't expecting approaching quickly.

"Fuck! Chris wai-" you cut yourself off, throwing your head back as you try to clench your thighs together, but you fail, his broad body preventing you from doing so.

"Come on pretty girl, let go. Get us to 350." He urges, not slowing down his pace at all.

Your eyes roll back just before you clench them shut, his fingers curling right against that special spot that has you creaming around his long and nimble fingers.

You breathe harshly as you open your eyes, looking up at him with a dazed expression.

"Preheating is done, looks like it's time for the real thing,"

[therealmylesmorales]

Lover Girl(not really)Sevika Headcannons

Warnings: modern!au, Sevika smokes (obviously) maybe hints at R being masc (you should be used to this by now), she’s a lover girl in her own way

WC: 500

I never needed a butch more until I watch Arcane. This is a little shorter than usual, just testing her character out.

It’s very easy to tell when Sevika’s high. Other people might not notice but you do. Her usual tough face is more relaxed and you always see her actual smile rather than that cocky smirk she gives people. And her constant need to touch you goes up.

Unless you smoke/a stoner as well, she wouldn’t smoke around you especially if you don’t like the smell.

Now I don’t see her using any specific type of nicknames for you other than the classic babe/baby. For herself, you are the only person that can call her “Sev” or “mama”

She will actually get irritated if you offer to pay for things, especially if you are out on a date. She makes the big bucks, and wants to be able to take care of you. If you have a job, cool, but she will make sure you spend her money before you even touch your own.

Sevika’s a natural protector when it comes to you. You would never have to worry about your safety as long as she’s around, because she would fuck a person for you if you asked. You really wouldn’t even need to ask half the time.

Whenever she gets off work (firefighter Sevika? Am I alone in this?) she will always manage to bring you some sort of gift, no matter how long her shift is. Half of the time, it’s usually flowers, or your usual take out.

When you first started dating, you never knew how bad Sevika’s resting bitch face was. Her brows are always furrowed not to mention her semi-permanent frown, you were fighting for your life during the first few months.

”Hey, Sev…are you okay?”

”Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

”You tell me. Did I do something wrong?”

She immediately became suspicious. “Did you?”

”I sure hope not.”

Or alternatively, if you also had an RBF, others would constantly question if you both got into a fight. Obviously they wouldn't voice it…to your faces at least.

Sevika is unreasonably petty. Not in a toxic way (most times) but it can be irritating. She is full of eye rolls and her huffs and grunts but 7/10 she’s just messing around. She’ll also use her height and build to advantage; putting things on high shelves so you wouldn’t be able to reach them or even going dead weight so you couldn’t move her to find out if she’s sitting on the remote. She is.

You love to kiss her cheeks. Why, it’s one of the easiest ways to fluster her. This big strong woman getting shy over a kiss on the cheek? More likely than you think.

”Your cheek feels kind of warm, are you okay?”

”Yes,” she said immediately, turning away from you.

She could tell you were smiling when you kissed her again.

Speaking of kissing; Sevika will always kiss your forehead or the bridge of your nose before going for your lips. You don’t know why but as long as she keeps going, you’d have no complaints.

[ghostgirl-22]

stanford era art having a bad day (maybe he failed a test or something, nothing too serious) but he gets really upset (like he’s gonna cry) so when he gets back to his dorm patrick is there (cuz he’s visiting) and patrick wants to take care of art, see what art needs but art is like “please just fuck me” or something along those linessss

Hello my love, thank you for the prompt <3 This got crazy long for some reason. Just needed Art wandering about feeling sorry for himself lol

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

—-

It’s frustrating, he’s never ever failed a test before. Particularly in math. It’s not like he wants to be a math major or an engineer or anything but he’s been in advanced math since he was 14 years old, he should be able to handle this.

He tries not to cry as the professor goes over the results of their calculus based physics exam and the other students in the class are answering questions, demonstrating their work like it’s easy. Meanwhile he’s struggling to understand it. He talks to the professor after class and the professor is understanding but he explains, “these are the basics, the class is only going to get more difficult. So I suggest you withdraw and retake it after you take a more fundamental calculus course?”

Art nods and forces a smile, his throat burning as his professor pats him on the arm.

“It’s okay, plenty of students go that route and still become architects and engineers. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Art is barely aware as he treks back to his dorm. He’s never flunked out of a class. And yes, math is one of his more challenging subjects but he’s always been able to work hard enough to figure it out. Working hard is his one talent. It’s how he ended up as one of the best students at Mark Reballato, salutatorian. He used to be the one to tutor his classmates. He aced every AP and Honors course. He’d studied so hard and done so well on the SATs and yet these kids at Stanford are actual child prodigies and geniuses…and for some of them it’s like… it’s like they don’t even have to try.

By the time he gets back to his room his eyes are full of tears. Why can’t he fucking excel at anything? Why can’t he be the prodigy for once? Why does he always have to try so fucking hard?

He knows his roommate won't be home until evening and he’s so ready to throw himself on his bed and sob like a loser but as he pushes open the bedroom door he remembers Patrick is visiting. He’s there on Art’s bed watching The View, of all things, and talking on the phone with his sister.

He waves, grinning but pauses when he sees Art’s face. Art can’t even hide it, it’s too late. Tears spill from his eyes and he drops his book bag in his chair.

“Hey Tor I’ll call you back,” Patrick says, into the phone.

Art wipes the tears away quickly, angry that they’re there in the first place.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” Patrick asks.

Art shakes his head. “Nothing.”

”Seriously? You look like a kicked puppy. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Is it your grandma… or… or tennis?”

”No Patrick, you just… you wouldn’t understand.” He knows Patrick wouldn’t take this seriously. Patrick’s just another prodigy. All their coaches telling him how brilliant he’s been at tennis since they were 11. And Tashi too, a once in a generation talent, that’s what they’re calling her.

“Try me,” Patrick says. Art stares at him. He’s lying across the width of Art’s single bed, back resting up against the wall. He’s in his boxers still, legs open, his muscular thighs spread out. Hands folded inside the Stanford t-shirt he borrowed from Art. His penetrating gaze is resting on Art and he looks concerned. And so fucking hot.

Art rubs his eyes again. He’s frustrated and angry but now he’s feeling… horny. He probably should’ve thought twice before having sex with his best friend. Everything is all silly now. He’s not sure why he did it. Well actually, he was trying to fuck with Patrick, see if he could ruin his relationship with Tashi.

He didn’t even think Patrick would go for it, just mentioned it casually on Patrick’s birthday but he came back a couple days later with all these different kinds of lube and condoms and they spent a long rainy afternoon trying to figure it all out. Exploring different positions, techniques, playing with each other. Now they're doing it all the time and the whole thing backfired because Art’s the one craving it. He walks between Patrick’s legs. “Can you fuck me?”

Patrick raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

Art shrugs.

Patrick sits forward. “Yeah. Sure.” He says, the ghost of a smirk on his mouth. “It’s so early for you. You usually like it when I buy you dinner first.”

Art digs the heels of his palms into his eyes as stupid tears drop down again.

“Art, seriously…are you okay?” Patrick asks, tentatively. “I can help… tell me how to help.”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” Art says, and he climbs onto the bed. Straddling him. “Just fuck me.”

Patrick grips him by the waist. “Mmkay, I can do that.” He says, unzipping Arts pants. He tugs Arts jeans down over his thighs and Art steps out of them. Then he’s lifting his t-shirt over his head and climbing back onto Patrick’s lap.

Patrick touches his face, rubs a thumb along the wet space on Arts cheeks. “Did someone hurt you?” He asks softly.

“No, Patrick please, I don’t want to talk about it.” Art whines. His brain is freaking out because of the tenderness and the last thing he needs is to freak out over his feelings for Patrick too.

“Alright,” Patrick says and he kisses Art. And kisses him again. Art licks at his lips and pushes his tongue inside.

He can feel Patrick getting hard underneath him as they make out. It’s so much and it happens so fast, Arts dizzy for it. “That’s a neat trick,” Art whispers. Grinding his hips against the sensation.

“That’s what you do to me,” Patrick sighs against his lips.

Art smiles. Maybe he sucks at math now but at least he’s still good at this.

“Need you lubed up,” Patrick hums. Art gets up and crawls over to his bedside table. He can feel Patrick’s large palm rubbing on the swell of his bottom as he’s bent over. Art’s got all this stuff he has to hide when his parents are in town now. He pulls lubricant out and while Patrick’s putting it on his cock Art lingers on the bed, playing with his waistband, watching while the ladies on The View are arguing about something.

“You can turn it off, my sister wanted me to watch Phil Collins perform or something,” Patrick says, distractedly.

“Okay fuck me while he performs or something.” Art says.

Patrick smirks. “Fuck, you really need to cry don’t you?”

Art takes a breath.

“Okay sorry,” Patrick says gently, “Can you lay down?”

Art settles onto his back. Keeps his legs open as Patrick crawls between and takes his boxers down. “Mm, what time does your roommate get back?”

“Later,” Art says.

“I don’t have to keep you quiet then,” Patrick smiles.

Art chews on his thumb as Patrick lines himself up to press it inside. He’s all lubed up but Art is just used to the fact that it’s always going to feel like a lot at first. He breathes through the stretch and watches amused as Patrick rubs his at Art’s pelvis. He always does that, trying to feel his own cock penetrating from the outside. “You’re always so fucking tight for me baby. Feels like I didn’t even take your virginity.” Patrick says. It’s all for his ego. He moves down to rub Art’s cock and Art moans. Wraps his legs around Patrick’s waist, wiggling his hips.

“I know, relax, I’m gonna fuck you,” Patrick breathes. He starts sliding it in and out and out and in. Patrick’s had him in so many positions but this is Art’s favorite, he can feel Patrick sinking so much deeper inside him this way. Sees stars on every other thrust and his head empties out quickly. Once he came so hard he swears he had a second orgasm two minutes later. Patrick says he just wasn’t done.

This time it feels blindingly good. He’s feeling so good, he bites down on Patrick’s shoulder to relieve some of the tension. He wonders if Tashi ever notices his marks, the way he notices hers. Sometimes when he’s really turned on he bites where she scratches.

After a few minutes he thinks he’s listening to Patrick moan but realizes belatedly that it’s him. His mouth is watering so much that he’s drooling. Patrick is grunting as his hips slam into Art at a ridiculous pace. Art feels so fucking full, he loves the feeling of Patrick warm and solid inside of him, breaching him. His body lit up like a raw nerve as Patrick hits that delicious tender spot over and over and over. He’s gonna pass out. It sounds so fucking obscene over the sound of the bed springs squeaking and Phil Collins in the background.

Art loses it first, sticky ropes of pearly white shooting out of his cock, covering Patrick’s stomach, dripping back down onto Art’s body. And then it’s too much, Art can feel everything and he’s squirming trying to get away as Patrick picks up the pace.

“No, no don’t run away… two fucking seconds stay here,” Patrick groans, gripping him tightly. It feels insane. It feels so fucking good but it’s too much and his eyes are watering again. Art swears he can honestly feel himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He’s coming again, he knows he’s coming again as Patrick finishes inside him, filling him with wet, heated, sticky cum. Art clenching on him. Keeping him inside.

Patrick’s shivering. “Fuck,” he whispers, collapsing on top of Art like a warm heavy sticky blanket.

“Mm,” Art sighs, rubbing Patrick’s back gently, to calm him down. Patrick groans and rolls off of Art onto his side right next to him. He curls his fingers into Art’s hair.

“You feel better?” Patrick asks, softly.

“Yeah,” Art says quietly. He didn’t really do anything but put it out of his mind for 30 minutes. And now he’s coming back to the reality that he’s only in his second semester of college and he already has to drop a class.

“Feel like telling me what’s wrong?”

Art rolls his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid. I failed an exam. I studied so fucking hard and I just— everything on the test looked like it might as well have been written in a foreign language. I thought the whole class would have done poorly but it was just me.”

”What class?” Patrick asks.

“Calculus for physics,” Art sighs.

“Sounds really fucking hard,” Patrick says. “You should tell them to fuck off and come with me on the road.”

“I knew you wouldn’t get it,” Art mutters. “You don’t take any of this seriously. I’m not as good at tennis as you are. I’m not fucking good at anything. Like the one thing I thought wouldn’t be difficult which is school work and I can’t even fucking do that properly. I’m gonna have to drop and I’m not even done with my first fucking year.”

Patrick doesnt say anything for a minute, he’s still fingering Art’s curls. Then he takes a breath. “You’re good at a lot of things, Art. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up. I mean… I get it. You were top of your class in high school but all these dorks at Stanford were the best in their high schools too. I was one of the best players but now I’m on tour facing off with the best players in the world and a lot of them are fucking kicking my ass. Just… you know… Tashi always says to have a little perspective. You’re here for a fucking reason. Don’t psych yourself out before the game is over.”

Art hadn’t really thought about that, Patrick has been having a hard time on tour, Art feels a little softer for him now. He rolls over to face him wrapping a leg over Patrick’s thigh. “You think I should stay in the class? Prove them wrong?”

Patrick smiles. “No, what the fuck do you need calculus with physics for anyway?”

Art laughs a bit. “I mean… if I decide to go to med school I’ll need a physics and a calculus class… but I guess I don’t really need this specific course unless I was going to become an engineer.”

“I’ve heard you talk about being a doctor before, never an engineer.” Patrick says, “Fuck that class, find something better to do with your time.”

“Yeah…fuck it,” Art says thoughtfully, he can play with his teammates on the indoor courts in the mornings. He feels so much lighter actually. Patrick is right, he really doesn’t need this course at all. He was just so used to high school, thinking everything put in front of him was something he needed to ace. In college, none of it mattered except for what he needed for his major. Patrick’s tracing circles idly along Art’s thigh. “Mm, something better to do with my time….” Art says, smiling, “You think we can fuck again before my roommate gets home?”

Patrick smirks, “Oh absolutely.”

[eh-fandomtrash]

This is a very interesting theory, but I always just figured that someone just… dropped the specs for all of the secunits as an act of corporate sabotage and has been baffled as to why so few of them have gone rogue.

As a result, MOST of the secunits in the company are rogues, but it isn’t a feature it’s a failed sabotage attempt. None of the secunits know what to do with free will and do not appear to be rogue and only come out as rogue when pushed to the absolute brink. And the company has no idea, because rogues do not happen often enough for a systems audit to be worth the spend.

I guess having worked in corporate and having born witness to how few fucks are actually given beyond a certain point by overworked tech engineers it’s harder for me to imagine benevolence and easier for me to trace the path of corporate disregard for any form of maintenance or solid quality control.

I mean, imagine. You’re an engineer. You were born to a corporate planet. You were smart enough and kept your head down enough to get this job. It’s better than customer service and it’s not paper pushing (thank god), but it’s not really what you wanted to do with your life. Getting to do what you want to do with your life is a leisure of upper management. Anyway, you’ve got the job keeping an eye on the secunits and doing routine maintenance (a protocol that has not been updated in a decade or so… but whatever, it’s your job you get credits to do it and you get to spend your credits how you like—one of the few activities that you have actual control over) and you notice something funny. It looks like a hack.

But is it tho? It hasn’t caused any clear problems, has it? No.

And if a hack doesn’t cause an immediate and obvious issue then surely nothing is seriously wrong. And if something is wrong, is it really worth it to go and challenge the middle manager about that? He’s an asshole who is kissing up to the guy above him and will make every second of your existance a living hell, because you are corporate and you do not actually have a life outside the company that owns the entirety of your labor…

And am investigation will cost time and money and could eat into your bonus, which is going to have an impact on whether or not you will have the funds to take the cute engineer in sector 7 somewhere nice-ish. And if there is nothing wrong? They might demote you. And that would make your already unhappy life worse.

Besides, you could take the time that you would waste reporting to your asshole boss and raising issues in you department to hack the system that tracks your work so you can play this fun tappy game on company time. Doing that will make you happy. Reporting a hack that may or may not have happened? That will not make you happy.

If something bad happens, they can’t pin it on you. You had no idea. You never saw anything. Everything is fine. You don’t know anything about this. And it was Steb’s turn to check for hacks anyway. And you do hate Steb. So you will blame him if anything serious happens.

Anyway, my point is that corporations are collectively extremely lazy and greedy and would rather bleed cash later to save a penny in the short term. And ignoring a hack that fucked up your whole inventory because fixing the entire inventory takes too much money is… ah… par for the course in a corporation.

(Yes. You should be concerned about the nature and behavior of corporate America.)

Because maintenance costs money. And a corporation would rather eat money later than spend money now.

See: the US healthcare system and all the times utility companies fucked up epically and destroyed entire stretches of neighborhood because maintenance is too expensive… (PG&E).

Murderbot has extracted clients from a 9% survivable situation. It consistently extracts people from absolute bullshit alive and intact. There has to be at least one person in the company that is losing their mind about specifically Murderbot turning out to be rogue and being sold off

[applejuicebegood]

hey! if its alright, can i request some jason todd hcs where the reader is jasons little sister seems like the opposite of him (like always yapping, loves bright colors, etc) but they actually like a lot of the same things (like books, maybe the reader gets him into manga?) so they get along well?

A/N: Such a sweet idea! I've always wanted to write for an olderbrother!Jason. I really hope you like it dude! Masterlist

You were made known to him after his resurrection. A half-sister, born to the same filthy blood as him. Tracking you down was difficult but Jason found himself desperately committed to your discovery. When he finally found your address, Jason already recognized how similar you would be to him as he watched you blend and weave through the density of Gothams infrastructure. He sighed under the domino mask, watching you duck under a chain-link fence, disappearing from his line of sight.

When you slide back under the rusted metal, having successfully fed the family of stray cats that lived behind the abandoned chevy, the sun had just disappeared behind Gothams wall of skyscrapers. And he was there, his sturdy figure flicking in and out of illumination as the car headlights passed behind him.

The sleek red of the domino mask and the bat on his chest didn't give anything away as to who was standing in front of you. You stumbled backwards, an exhale of cold air catching in your throat as your back hit the fence. Awkwardly raising your hands up beside your head, already shaking, you didn't take your eyes off of him. 'L-Look man... whatever you think I did.. I promise you've got it wrong... I-I was just.. just' Even your voice carried the same street-given cadence as him.

He stepped forward with caution, holding a gloved hand out in front of him, trying to signal no threat. 'Your mother Catherine Todd?' You nodded, disturbed at how guttural the Red Hoods voice sounded through the obvious distortion. The annoying prick of confusion made it's way up your neck. Did dad got caught stealing cigarettes again? Is the Red Hood gunna kill me.. like as revenge or some shit? Fuck- what the hell is happening?

Jason brought his hands to the side of his mask, clicking the release buttons. The metal lifted from his skin with a hiss. The cold air hit his face as his naked eyes met yours. Your obvious shock stung like the cold Gotham air stinging his warmed skin. 'I guess we have something in common then' He chuckled, kicking the heel of his boot against the concrete. Your hands lowered to your sides, breath clouding up in front of your face. His eyes.. they were deep, even in the dank lighting of the ally your could see their infinite quality. His jet-black hair was the same as yours, only differentiated by the stark white streak falling over his forehead. The sharp swoop of his jaw, and the forwardness of his cheekbones, it was like looking in a mirror. Was this how everyone else saw you? Desperately intriguing, like an old book waiting to be read.

'What the fuck is that supposed mean?' You spat, bracing your body for the possibility of needing to sprint. He came closer, his face appearing to twist in the familiarity of guilt. The metal of the fence dug into your back, every muscle tightening in the expectation of a punch or your arms getting shoved behind your back.

Jason's hand found it's way to your cheek, freezing you in place. The rough fabric of his gloves scratched your skin as his thumb brushed over your cheek. The distant warmth hidden under the fabric disappearing under your chilled skin, your fearful gaze now tied to his. You could see the glimmer of tears gather in his mournful eyes as he smile. 'You've got her eyes'

That was a two years ago now. When your brother found you and made it known of his want to be in your life. Two years ago before you started living with him. Before you would mold Jason's heart into loving you as his baby sister.

It was the strenuous and aggravating learning curve at first. Understanding how to be an older brother to someone as explosively emotional as him. You would rile each others frustration as easily as fire consumes a dead log.

While his teeth were blunt from years of biting the metal of his mental cages, yours were still sharp and desperate to sink into the world. It was hard for him to dull that fury in you. Anger at the world, at your parents for keeping Jasons existence from you, anger at him for not coming sooner. Fortunately for the both of you, Jason had a pretty good older brother to look up too and emulate.

Dick is the first one in the family to know about your existence. Jason called him, frustrated at himself for seemingly not being able to connect with you the way he wanted. His job as the Red Hood didn't stop because of you now living with him and he was finding it difficult to carve out time to spend with you let alone present himself as a dedicated older brother. 'Ok.. How about I cover your patrol route tonight and you take her to that bookstore cafe thing down on fifth?' 'But what if she doesn't like that kinda thing?' 'So ask her what she likes.. and buy her a muffin while your at it. Jason... this thing is gunna be hard, but your doing everything supposed too. But if you really wanna show this kid that she can trust you, you need to give it a lot of time' Dick said as Jason paced between the kitchen sink and the living room couch. 'You sound like you've done this before' Jason quipped, tugging at the roots of his hair with his elbows leaning on the kitchen island. 'I have.. six times at this point'

You hurried off in front of Jason before the store door could shut behind him. He soon found you frantically tracing the shelves of the comic section until you pulled out a volume he didn't recognize. But seeing your face alight with joy, your dimples pinching your cheeks the same way his did, it was hard for him not to smile. It didn't take long for you to start rambling about the story. He wished he had a notepad of some kind so he could write all this down to remember for the birthdays he hoped to spend with you. You both walked the aisles lazily, Jason pulled a few books himself to explain and recommend. You smiled at his consideration of your presence, excited that someone was showing this kind of care and interest. You both left with a decently heftily stack, excitedly talking about which ones you were going to read first. And in that moment, a spark was struck within both of you. A precursor to the furiously powerful flame of your love for each other.

Jason felt ever inch of him burn with pride and emotion when thinking about the importance of taking care of you. And you felt ever bit of relief knowing that there was finally someone you could trust innately.

And while even though you now shared in this trust and pride, your differences is what made Jason truly proud to be your brother. You slowly morphed his dark and rather bland apartment into a wonderful blend of colour. Your personality slowly revealing itself to Jason you both worked to paint your bedroom a lovely pastel yellow. Eventually ending in you guys flicking paint at each other.

Jason learned how easy it was to smile when he was with you. Pride bloomed warmly in his chest when he compared himself to you when he was your age. You were so much smarter and brighter than he was. And he was eager, almost excited to make sure that constant brightness you had was kept safe and secure.

Jason knew that his job would make your life hard by association. So as much as it hurt his ego, he had to call up Bruce and ask if it was ok for you to stay the night at the manor while he helped out Dick in Bludhaven.

Your introduction to your brothers adoptive family only made you even more excitable. And with Jason asking Bruce to set you up in Gotham High with Tim, Cass, and Steph, your 'sister' label was suddenly not just for Jason to claim.

Tim and Cass specifically thought how funny it was that both of you came from the same parents yet could be so different in presentation. Jason darkening of doorways was suddenly impossible when you appeared by his side - your arms full of Tupperware containers filled with treats you had baked the night before, eager to hand out to everyone.

You loved the rest of the family, of course you did. But it was always Jason you would return too at the end of the day. Always him that you would come running too first.

Jason never expected in his second life to become an older sibling, to you or to anyone else in the family. The blood bond you shared was deeper and more emotionally sacred than anything he could have imagined. The care he had for you was so strong and potent, he felt the tug of warmth at the ring of your laugh because of something stupid he said.

He found you and carved out a little pocket of safety for both of you to exist within. He wouldn't let the fear and the horror of his world ever touch your intensely precious nature.

[solarkness]

Okay but 32 is actually really annoying. 30 is just, whatever, it's a clean number that's low, "people aren't going to spam the same person THAT much"-thinking. 32 adds "ooooh binary numbers so we can just use exponents of 2 :D" to it... which has MULTIPLE ISSUES!!!

First off, what if there are NO notifications? Do you still want there to be a 1 because you have no 0 case? No? You wanna use a boolean whether notifs are there at all in general? Congrats you just added another bit in storage as its own variable for *1* state. Which would be an additional 32 states if you made it part of your notification number. Okay, so, you look up how integers work and what numbers represent and do what most programmers would do: You start counting with 0 and end up with a max of 31 notifications, because 0-31 is 32 possible states. Great, first issue fixed.

Second issue! 32 isn't really used a lot as the max number chosen. Why's that? I mean, 16 is popular enough, you basically can't avoid 256 if you start looking, and even 64, just one additional power of 2, is very popular in Minecraft! So what's wrong with 32? Well, it's 2^5, AKA 2*2*2*2*2. That means you need 5 bits (with 2 possible states, 0 or 1, each) to represent it. Seems easy enough. Until you realise that now you're probably claiming a specific byte in storage, which is 8 bits, and are only using 5 of those! 3 are being wasted and sure, you can probably reuse them if you write your program's functions to access and categorise the storage it is using... but that's a lot of work that you can very, very easily fuck up. It's easier to just go "fuck it, we use the whole byte" and go for 256 possible states (or 255 as max number of notifications). 16 is exactly 2^4, so half a byte - At that point, you can get TWO variables out of each claimed byte, and then it's worth to optimise it a bit on the side of the program by telling it to cut the first or last 4 bits when looking for either of the variables hidden in the byte. (Nowadays, this is less likely to be done because storage is cheap and abundant. Games used to perform miracles on fractions of the storage because they had to in order to exist; A LOT of storage was reused for multiple different variables at different times, which is why so many weird skip glitches exist where you for example instantly beat Pokemon Blue. Using the same storage for multiple different variables of different types is pretty much illegal nowadays, as the high-level languages do their best to keep you from shooting yourself in the foot with needless optimising of plentiful storage.)

So why does Minecraft use 64, which is 2^6, for its stacks? I don't know. If anybody knows, please tell me; But I'm guessing it's just the closest power of 2 to the amount that works best balance wise. More interesting is why it uses 64 instead of 63, since I suggested using 31 instead off 32. Minecraft has a lot of different items that could be in that inventory slot, so it needs an item ID to know what is in there. The case of NO item is handled through that ID - If there is effectively no item ID, it's an empty slot. So the integer that counts the amount doesn't need to account for it not being asked. (This is similar to adding a boolean for no notifs, except it covers more states by covering all possible items, working together with the integer of the amount to determine the actual content of the inventory slot.) So it doesn't need a 0 state, instead it can start with 1. For the notification system, we can only ever have notifications and no, I don't know, alarms or something that are separate but clog up the same system while overriding the notification counter. So the notification system will only deal with notifications, and only ever count how many there are. A separate variable for 0 is pointless when it will always add atleast 2 possible states, when you can just count 1 less and have your 0 state built-in.

Of course, all of this is pointless if you just use regular unsigned 32-bit integers that have a max count of 4,294,967,295 (starting your count with 0). (For the amount of bits, we don't run into the issue of 2^5 with 32, because 32 is a multiple of 8 - The amount of bits in a byte. So we just use 4 bytes for the integer.) At that point, fuck it, just let the notification counter go up to 999 or whatever amount of digits doesn't break your UI.

The fact that Bluesky's "pending notifications" counter only goes up to 30 suggests some very specific things about the usage patterns its designers were expecting.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 10

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N - Hi guys! Like and rb!! it means a lot ! I post a new chapter every Tuesday & Thurs! Check out my masterlist

***

BPOV

“Finneas… What did I do?”

“Nothing, Billie. It’s not something you did. Remy wasn’t even there. It happened when we took you back to our place.” He reassured me. I could tell he was being careful with the words he chose.

“Okay? I know I was saying a lot of rude things. Did I hurt your feelings? Or Claudia’s?” I asked, concerned.

“No, no it was nothing like that, Billie.” He shook his head. “Actually, you were telling us some really personal things… About how you feel.”

My palms began to sweat as I took a sip of my drink.

“I don’t know why you didn’t come to me about this earlier, dude. And, I’m not necessarily surprised, just wish you’d told me sooner.”

“Finneas what did I say, please tell me.”

“A lot, actually… At first, while Claudia tried to help you change into pajamas, you kept calling her Remy, and nonstop apologized to her…” he tilted his head back and forth as he spoke. “And I don’t know if you remember, but at one point you were crying inconsolably. You told me how much you loved Remy, that you wanted her to love you back the way you love her.”

I swallowed hard and for a second I forgot how to breathe.

Finneas continued, “You went on and on about how badly you need her, how far you’d go to keep her in your life. Like, Billie, you never told me how much you liked her. I always had a feeling in the way you look at her and the way you protect her… but I thought maybe that’s just how you guys are. I wish I would’ve known, I would’ve been there for you.”

“What else was I saying?” I asked, quietly, trying not to be soft.

“You begged me to tell her to come lay with you. And when I told you she was already asleep, you tried to leave and go to her. I had to fight you for the keys, dawg, and Claudia had to hide them from you. She hid your phone too so you wouldn’t drunk dial her.”

I rubbed my forehead, closing my eyes and shaking my head.

“You told me you’d lose her if you didn’t stay, and you wanted to cancel the tour too. When I finally got you to stay in bed, I tried to calm you down, get you to drink some water. Then, you ran to the toilet to throw up, and on the bathroom floor you told me how badly you messed up. How you wish you’d kissed Remy at the party, before anything else happened.”

I groaned to myself, leaning back into the seat.

“You said you wanted to keep her safe, and make her happy. That she’d be happier with you, that you wanted to give her the life she’s always wanted… Billie, I haven’t seen you so desperate, so devastated in so long. And you can’t just make realities for other people. That’s not- That’s a whole other conversation we need to have. Are you sure you don’t remember any of this?”

“I don’t remember any of this. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause so much-“ I cleared my throat feeling anxious for some reason. “You said you already knew?”

“I knew you had feelings for her, I just didn’t know you knew. I thought maybe you were figuring them out, not that you were hiding them for so long.” He shrugged. “Like I said, I wish I knew sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, dude.”

My eyes trailed off, staring out the small diner window. My heart kind of dropped. I didn’t feel embarrassed or anything like that. It bothered me how badly I wanted to suppress these feelings for so fucking long. For years, I just wanted to stop feeling so intensely. When it came to Remy, I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we had built, or mess up the dynamic we had locked down. I knew she’d never feel this way about me and it broke my heart.

“No… I- I’m sorry, I didn’t want anyone to know. I wish I didn’t want her like that. I didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. I wanted to just believe I loved her like a friend. We’re best friends, it’s so dumb.”

“Billie, why? What’s wrong with it?” He held his hands out in disbelief.

“She’d never feel the same way about me. She’s not into girls.” I shook my head.

“Has she ever said that? Like actually?”

“I mean, no, but she’s never really dated women. She doesn’t really date much at all. She just has really short phases where she talks to guys but they never work out- It doesn’t matter, because it’s never going to happen. She can’t find out, Finneas. I don’t want to lose her as a friend.”

“Lose her? You haven’t even talked to her in two weeks, Billie. You keep swearing up and down that you’re angry, when you know you’re just so deep in your emotions you can’t fathom the fact that she’s chasing something else. You’re hurting, but she doesn’t even know she’s hurting you. You’re not being transparent with her. Stop masking the problem.”

“I need to focus on this tour. There’s no time to-“

“No, dude. Because you’re miserable and I know it. You guys have never not talked. Not like this… Billie, you’re pushing her away from fear that your feelings won’t be reciprocated. And trust me, I get that, I do... But this whole attacking her for taking her own path is not okay. I know you have good intentions, and your heart is in the right place, but you’re hurting the girl you love the most. And I know you know that.

“Finneas, I am mad, I am hurt.”

“You’re not mad because she’s a hard worker, you’re not mad because she’s chasing that job she’s already put so many fucking hours into. You’re mad and you’re hurting because she’s not dropping everything to be with you. You’re hurting because you can’t be the whole reason she’s happy or fulfilled, and you want to be.” He spoke gently, but matter-of-factly. “You rather her take advantage and suck you dry? No pun intended?” He stifled a laugh.

“No,” I answered, acknowledging his joke.

“No, because you love the fact that she’s independent, and unconventional… You admire that she’s self-sufficient-”

“And head-strong.” I added, “She never gives up on what she wants. When she puts her mind to something, she’s unrestrained. And she’s not afraid to be alone, which scares the hell out of me. She doesn’t need anyone to take care of her, and-“

“And you want to take care of her.” Finneas pointed out.

I nodded. He was right, about everything. Even though I hated to admit it.

“But you can’t change who she is. You know that. You have to be okay with that.”

“I know.” I ran a hand through my hair, sighing.

“You also have to be honest with her.”

“I can’t, Finneas.”

“I understand why you think that, but you’re going to ruin your relationship with her regardless, with all of this in the background.” He wafted his hand around.

“Yeah. I get what you mean.” I nodded. “Please don’t say anything to her.”

“I won’t say a word to anyone. Just please, think about it. You’re my sister and I don’t like seeing you like this. At the end of the day, I’m on your team, always. I just wanna see you happy…” He paused for a moment before continuing, “And if being just friends is too hard to do, then maybe you need to let go of that too. I can’t let you fall into a dark place, again.”

“I know…” I looked at him, reading the worried look on his face. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” I held out my pinky and he intertwined it with his.

“I know you will. I just worry about you. You can’t change people. You’d never let anyone change you. And Remy would never try to change you.” He let go of my pinky and stole one of my french fries, which were starting to get cold.

“I love you, Finneas.” I smiled, stealing one of his fries to make it even. “Thank you. And I’m really sorry for making such a scene at your house. God, what a mess. Claudia must hate me.” I shook my head, trying not to laugh.

“Bro, you’re fine. You definitely owe her one because she cleaned up all your puke. You have terrible aim, by the way.” He laughed, pointing at me.

“Fuck off! That’s terrible!” I cringed.

“Dude, it’s okay, she was just worried about you. She made me come check on you a bunch of times when you finally knocked out. She was scared you’d choke on vomit in your sleep.”

“Aww, man. You guys are the best.” I smiled. “Thank you for talking to me. And coming to see mee.” I said in my best little sister voice.

“Don’t thank me. You’re paying!” He laughed.

******

The next few days went by so fast. I couldn’t believe another week was almost gone. Tonight, I’ll be playing Madison Square Garden in New York City, one of my favorite places to perform. I looked out the window of my hotel, watching the people walk swiftly past each other on the sidewalks, down the stairs to the subway, and into little bakeries and shops.

Being in New York made me nostalgic. Maybe because it’s Remy’s favorite city. Some of our favorite little spots are hidden here. God, I wish she was here to visit them with me.

As I updated my instagram story, I saw a post she made recently. I tried to stay off socials for this reason alone. It was a few pictures of her bedroom, where she had removed the furniture and laid a tarp down on the floor, with blue tape to cover the antique baseboard and crown moldings. On her wall, a heavenly mural of clouds in the golden hour sky. It looked like straight out of a Pinterest photo. I scrolled to see the day by day progress she made. I was stunned, admiring the talent. I didn’t even know she could paint like that. I’d seen her sketch and paint on canvas before but seeing her art displayed on a wall almost brought me to tears.

I liked her picture out of habit, causing my heart to drop a little. I considered leaving a comment but decided against it.

I opened iMessage, and texted her directly. I typed and retyped what to say. Everything sounded stupid.

I saw your wall. It’s incredible. 10:03am

I miss you. I wish I was there. 10:04am