#i just want to admit that i got almost all the spanish on my own

[aphroditesswan]

AHDJFJDHAHD YOU WRITE KINICH SO GOOD IMAGINE HIM i mean not imagine he IS mean yk.. he'd be soo mean to you.. yanking ur hair back and having u open ur mouth for him but still not letting you suck him..(mexican kinich pls?)

this is SUCH a difference from my last post ijbol,, anyways

fem reader + mexican/spanish speaking kin, oral (k!receiving), rough kinich, impact play, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mix of degradation and praise, teasing and edging and hes just so mean

“be patient, princesa. what do i always say about patience?”

“slow and steady does it,,”

“that’s right mami, such a smart girl. now keep that mouth open f’me.”

kinich held your head back by your hair, pulled away from his so obviously aching cock when the tip was so close to your mouth and you wanted nothing more than to suck him off.

“you’ll get what you want mami don’t worry, just be a good girl and wait.”

he was so sweet, it almost overrides the near primal grip of his hand laced in your hair. he relished in the way tears flowed down your cheeks in wait, makeup messier than when he first got his claws on you.

really, he had no reason for this other than the simple fact that kinich liked to,, experiment with you. he wanted to see what made you tick, exactly what buttons to push before you were plain sobbing and begging for just a sliver of his touch. he kept his own need in check, want hidden behind the soft — but increasing slowly — rise and fall of his chest.

“you look rather desperate hermosa. you seem to want this more than i do, is that right mami?”

he loved to embarrass you in front of yourself, make you admit things that you’d usually never be bold enough to say.

when you stayed silent apart from the smallest of whines, he brought his spare hand up to cup the other side of your face. silken hands slowly moving from your jaw and sliding to the back of your neck, still soft as it laced into your hair and pulled you just a bit closer — not nearly close enough.

he felt the way you leaned into the touch, eyes doe as you looked up at him and pouted. that gentle hand was quick to match the other in terms of tone, pulling from your neck to smack the side of your cheek. light, but hard enough to leave the smallest and sweetest of stings.

“c’mon princesa, i asked you a question. don’t make me repeat myself, or you’ll have to wait even longer.”

the irony of him demanding an answer from you so impatiently while making you wait to just please him would’ve been laughable had the two of you been in a different situation, but alas.

“y-yes, i do,”

he seemed dissatisfied with such a small answer, so much so that it warranted your second slap of the night.

“be specific mami, tell me what you want. mess up again and you won’t get it.”

he was mean, bordering cruel. but really, could you blame him? he loved to see you cry and beg for him, how youre so put together look and attitude is so easily messed up and ruined when he gets his hands on you or simply tells you know.

“please, i wanna suck you off, kin,”

he absolutely adores the way you beg for him, how you look up at him with those pretty eyes and how your lips curl even more into a soft pout as you embarrass yourself below him. he drinks up the sight, almost drunk off it as he releases the hold on your hair and switches it to glide his fingers through the back of your neck.

“as you wish, princesa. what kind of man would i be if i denied you what you wanted so badly, hm?”

the way you didn’t even wait a second to take him into your mouth had him reeling, groans slipping through his lips but it wasn’t like he was trying to hide them.

“fuck- good fucking girl, thats it. so eager, so nasty all for me, yeah?”

he feels the vibrations of your hummed out response course through his dick so beautifully, sending electricity through his veins and causing his head to lean back and his breath to catch in his throat. you were so relentless with him, so desperate after waiting for so so long just for a taste of him.

he could feel his impending orgasm, inevitable it seemed as you pushed all the right buttons as soon as you got your hands on him. however, he knew he had to wait. after all, slow and steady does it, and the night was still young as never.

this is so late but #fuckitweball and mi cumpleaños es en tres dias!!

[4zahara]

01 | A stranger is stargazing

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: I just got back from a trip and wanted to upload this before studying for my algebra finals next month. This was going to be way longer but then I saw the word count and chopped it off. I have zero imagination. Used chatgpt to translate some Spanish phrases because in English they use similar terms but different meanings. Also, my birthday falls on carnivals so it's going to be a very nice last week of vacations😁

The knock on the door pulled you from your daze, snapping your attention away from the stains on the ceiling.

Outside the only window in the apartment, barred as all must be, the sky hung a deep, polluted red, with clouds stretching far into the distance. Blue-ish if you squint your eyes. You, as one far too used to the sights, needed not to look at no clock's way to know this to be an unholy hour to bother someone. The thing was broken anyway and the lack of light filtering through was telltale enough.

It was clear, however, that someone disagreed with the concept of appropriate visiting hours. Despite your irritation, you silently hoped it wasn’t who you thought of first knocking at the door—because reliving another nightmare firsthand was the last thing you could handle after an already exhausting day. The familiar fear of being alone at night when an unexpected knock shattered the silence wasn’t something you’d grown up with instinctively, as others might. No, this was a fear learned the hard way, carved into you by mistakes you committed.

Alarm bells rang deafening while you stare frozen. You found it almost cruel when everything stayed as still as you at the faintest reminder of the last time you heard knocking. Like a punishment to yourself the shelves and mess had been kept neat, framing a stop in time on your doorstep. Back then, one of the other residents had barged in, leaving you shaken—hunted by the tickling feeling of his breath on your neck when you hadn’t turned around soon enough.

You forced yourself to push the thought away, though it lingered. A ghostly feeling clung to you, far longer than you were willing to admit to yourself, when another knock shattered your fragile composure. The sound was louder this time, sharper, snapping you back into the present. Startled, you leapt to your feet, knocking over the ashtray on the armrest with your rushed and unsteady movements. An horribly loud clatter echoed against the walls for seconds too long after falling to the floor, scattering ash and ceramic across the oppressive silence. The noise startled a hiss out of you, as though the sudden disruption physically hurt.

Out of the corner of your eye, an aluminum baseball bat tucked neatly among the umbrellas by the door. It waited in its place—only silent and steady reassurance for your burning hands.

Had the thought not been so disturbingly visceral, you would have entertained the idea of describing what you felt as a hand twisting your guts as you marched toward the door. But the imagery was too grotesque to entertain, so you buried it and kept moving.

Two locks clicked open unnaturally loud. The third lock, a flimsy chain, dangled just in front of your forehead. Not much of a safeguard, but it gave you the illusion of control even knowing the thin wood wouldn’t hold if it came to a struggle.

But what you braced for never came.

On the other side of the door, the menacing face you dreaded wasn’t there. No menacing glare from fish-like, ogling eyes.

Instead, a boy. Smaller than you.

Even more fragile-looking.

It was almost embarrassing how much taller you had expected the visitor to be. Instead, you found yourself slowly—almost comically—looking down at a face twisted in a grimace, like the boy had just sucked on a lemon.

If there was anything that could have thrown you off more in this moment, you couldn’t think of it. Then came like being hit by a train the realization of your own disheveled appearance: some pale, sickly, and worn thin girl. For looking less like a witch had others been burned. Still, you forced a smile—awkward and out of place in your face. Apparently, not beating those imaginary witch-allegations in your head, smiling wasn’t the right move in a dimly lit hallway in the dead of night.

Wonder why the boy’s expression shifted almost instantly from startled surprise to wide-eyed panic as your gazes met. Both pairs of blue eyes locked onto each other, mirrors to one another.

He was drenched, water dripping from a hoodie too big for him, which clung awkwardly to his small frame. The soaked fabric looked heavy for his noddle arms. A busted lip stood out starkly for being the kind of injury that screamed ‘street-kid’ in this side of the country. Easy—normal, even—to assume a fight was the cause. Maybe at home. Maybe over food with other kids.

Wait. It was raining outside?

“I... I’m your brother,” he stammered, words tumbling out in a rush. His face crumpled almost immediately, tears welling up as if he wanted to cry. You guessed from cringing so hard.

His words, anxious and unsteady, made it hard to process what he’d said, let alone empathize. This you blinked dumb-ly. Once. Twice. Then squinted, trying to focus your tired eyes on him. Because it couldn’t be.

Your brother was hardly a toddler.

It hadn’t been that long... just a couple of years. Maybe.

It wasn’t immediate—far from the clarity you might have preferred—but recognition did dawned the longer you looked. His mop of wet messy curls struggled under its own weight, stubbornly sticking out in awkward directions, much like yours often did after a shower. And those eyes.

Willis had definitely had a thing or two for light eyes in a woman.

This time the realization felt like a sharper pain; a slap. Older now—maybe nine or ten—your brother was standing in front of you, the spitting image of his father like you were of your mother. That thought anchored you, rooted you in place as the silence grew, filled only by static.

With it, the questions began to tumble through your mind like dominoes:

How the hell did he get here?

Obviously, he walked, right? But in the rain?

All the way here from Crime Alley, in the dark?

You stared at him for far too long. So much you could've started to feel uncomfortable too. It was socially inappropriate even. But so it was disturbing people at this hour, so you bet you kept staring. Thoughts clashed and raced, refusing to settle.

“Yeah, kid, I don’t know about that—” The words came out hesitant, weak. Perhaps speaking them might dissolve the truth in front of you. But the longer you denied it, the clearer it became.

Of course, this was your brother.

It just had to be, because why the hell not?

Your baby brother.

He had to be about ten now. You hoped he was still nine, but his birthday had long passed if you had it right.

How in the hell did he find me?

Is his lip okay? Clearly not—but how had it gotten busted?

Did he get into a fight?

Where are mom and dad?

The thought of him walking alone out there, so small and vulnerable, chilled you to the bone. The idea of walking the streets alone terrified you being his senior. Out there, death would almost feel merciful compared to what could happen.

At least the monster living down the hall was a known evil. The streets, though? They hid horrors far worse.

People often said you could sense being watched, when they weren’t alone in a

room and danger loomed nearby. Whatever that underdeveloped sixth sense was, it stirred in you, pulling your gaze away from Maybe-Jason—who, judging by his oblivious expression, has proudly evolved past any shred of survival instinct—and toward the hallway.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

The very last, or first, of the apartment doors down the hall stood slightly ajar, its shadowed outline warped in the dim, flickering light. Large portions of the space cloaked in suffocating darkness by burned-out bulbs, but even through the haze of your blurry vision and growing dread, you could see him.

There he was. Standing just within the frame of the door, his silhouette barely illuminated. He didn’t need much light to convey what he was—a predator, coiled and waiting. The sight almost froze you in place with chills one after the other. It was like watching carnage step into the light dressed in colours to deceive.

You yanked on the door handle without thought, The lock chain vibrating sharply. The frame rattled under your grip as your restless hands itched to do something—anything. Every instinct screamed at you to grab Jason, drag him inside, and slam the door. Brother or not, scammer or not, it didn’t matter. All you wanted was to get him out of sight. Out of that sight.

From the neighbors.

From the world.

From the danger now standing on your threshold.

Of course, although you had never meant to shut the door in his face, it wasn’t hard to see why Jason probably thought you were doing just that. Looking up from frantically searching his pockets for whatever reason, only to look up and see you disappear behind the chipped wood and flaking varnish must've been disheartening. Desperation etched on his young face perfectly mirrored the ache pounding in your chest—a feeling only a boy his age could wear so openly, and one only you could understand. You knew what could happen to him, to both of you, and the weight of that knowledge crushed you. His desperation laid elsewhere, as he was yet to become aware of the danger. But the feeling was mutual. Fear smells salty.

His small fist struck the door again and again. He called for nobody, babbling something about proving his claim instead. Maybe he’d forgotten your name in the haze of his nerves, or time had scrambled the syllables and their order.

It has been a while.

His pounding made you flinch, and in your fumbling to undo the chain, your ragged nails scraped against the surface. The accidental movement sent a sharp pain stabbing under your nails, but no time for whatever that was. Not as the metallic screech of rusted hinges sliced through the air.

The sound sent your heart into overdrive.

Before let-this-be-Jason could strike the door again you grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, shoving him behind you. Behind safety. That's where your brother belonged.

Then, before your dizzy, unfocused self could register how close it had been, you slammed the door shut.

══════════════ • ✧ • ══════════════

Even before stepping out of the house, Jason knew to be digging himself into a hole. He accepted the fact for what it was; his desperation guiding him down a path of poor decisions. He just hadn’t realized a shovel was in his hands until the hole’s depth exceeded his height.

Grabbed, tossed, pulled. Weren't the walls of his vertical tomb collapsing in slow, suffocating ruin, lovely? Beautiful, even.

He would have liked to think the inside of what he hoped was his sister’s apartment might be better than the place he’d come from.

It wasn’t.

It smelled of cigarette smoke, and shadows pooled in every corner. The darkness clinging to the space, thick and uninviting, might have made Jason feel at home—dragged around and overwhelmed—if the situation hadn’t spiraled out of his control so quickly.

Sure, they were family, and blood was supposed to be thicker than water, but none of that mattered if she didn’t even know he was her brother. The memories he’d clung to, distant and blurry, painted his sister as gentle and caring.

You? didn’t match that picture.

In retrospect, he realized you weren't much taller than him, and so thin he couldn’t understand why he felt so threatened. If you did try something, he figured, he could probably win in a fight—especially if the bat he somehow now held in his hands came into play.

He couldn’t remember grabbing it. Or when it had reached his hands.

It was on the floor and he had tripped with it.

You had your back to him now, tense and uncertain, seeming just as out of it as he was. For all his distrust, Jason couldn’t tell who, between the two of them, was more afraid of what might happen next.

You were frantic, scrambling to lock all four bolts, including the padlock. Each metallic click seemed to drive Jason’s heart deeper into the pit of his stomach, where it churned in acid. But he was too far gone—trapped in fight-or-flight mode—to cry about it.

Your hand hovered near the floor, near the umbrellas scattered there. Groping blindly for a handle, probably searching for the bat’s. Or maybe, fingers crossed, an umbrella to pity him.

Call it hopeful thinking.

Jason heard you curse under your breath, blaming yourself for throwing “it” too hard behind you. Still, you didn’t dare take your eyes off the door, as if you believed your unrelenting stare could alone hold it in place, as if sheer willpower wasn't already the only thing keeping that piece of wood standing. From this side, the door looked even shoddier, barely more than splintered wood and peeling paint. Jason stared at it, and you, his mind buzzing. For a fleeting second, he thought he could probably bring it down if he wanted to, so clearly the adrenaline was getting to his head.

“I think… I think it’s safe,” you muttered. Your voice shook, but the words didn’t sound like they were meant to reassure anyone but you.

Your trembling hands dropped to your sides, and you stepped away from the door.

“Safe?” Jason barked, his voice sharp, teetering on the edge of hysteria.

That’s when he learned the first thing about his so-called sister. Other than the assumptions he’d already built in his head, you were jumpy. You flinched, almost as if you hadn’t expected him to speak or still be there. To what he had to ask; Where else would he go?

His hands tightened around the bat, frustration bubbling in his chest.

Right. He had a weapon. Maybe that explained your jumpiness when facing him.

“Wow.” Your hands shot up in surrender, in a reflexive, almost lazy gesture of defeat. You didn't want to appear threatening, but your wide eyes just ticked Jason off. “So that’s where the bat went.”

“Why did you drag me in like that?” Jason barely hides the accusation. An unspoken ‘Why can’t you be normal?’ wail hung in his mind. He decided against saying it outright—better to avoid sounding desperate or offended, even if both ships had sailed.

“Because the Boogeyman was about to get you? Obviously?” you shot back, your tone spoke to a child far younger than him. Your grimace wasn’t for him though.

“What?” Confused.

“What?” You mimicked. Jason felt whatever hope he had for your help steadily slipping away.

“What— are you doing?!”

“How about you put the bat down, buddy—back with the umbrellas? I’m not going to attack you,” Jason cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “You pushed me into your apartment! If anything, you’re kidnapping me—”

“There was a man outside!” you cut him off yourself with a sharp exclamation and throwing your hands in the air, sounding genuinely offended at being called out. Good. Jason couldn't be the only one losing it here. “And stop shouting,” you hissed, lowering your voice but glaring at him. “Other people live here.”

Jason glanced around. “This place is disgusting.” Home wasn't better, but he was pissed.

“Thanks,” There was a sharp edge, more venom in your tone than you’d intended. It startled Jason enough to make him take a step back.

Seeing your little brother back away from you should've tug on your heartstrings. It did. Almost tearing them off at the memory of a toddler gleefully making a mess of his food, yet looking so utterly blameless.

You couldn't be angry at Jason—if this was truly Jason. You had to remember who you were getting angry at and would/could cry.

Still, you should’ve been ashamed of the mess. You looked like you knew you should.

The apartment was tiny, cramped, and barely livable. The peeling wallpaper was stained yellow. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, a leaning tower of neglect, and discarded takeout containers dotted the counters like forgotten relics. The lone couch sagged under its own weight, covered in a mismatched patchwork of old blankets, and the floor—God, the floor...

Jason, once a master of breaking down your stubborn resolve with those big, pleading eyes, probably for the best, didn't seem to remember his power over you even having already made you back down. You sighed and leaned against the door. Slowly, you slid down until you hit the floor. The movement felt pitiful, like a defeated video game boss collapsing after the final blow. Only there was no triumphant music playing in the background and it looked sadder.

You stared at the floor, head tilted slightly forward, shoulders slumped. “It’s been a while,” you muttered, your voice strained, “since I talked to actual people, okay? Sorry for… the mess. I guess.”

And Jason reluctantly lowered his guard.

The bat still clenched tightly in his hands, eventually lowered, no longer pointing at you. Even so, he kept it close as he sat down on the floor, mirroring your posture.

“S’okay,” he mumbled.

“You look battered,” you said before a ten year old could take pity on you.

“You look high.”

To what his sister gasped, hand flying to your chest in mock offense. “I don’t—do I?—” And stopped abruptly. A pause, a sigh, and then you scratched the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze. “Okay, fair enough. ‘m not like that, but they cut the water off Monday morning so...”

“...It’s wednesday,”Jason saw you wince.

“What are you doing here anyway? How did you find me? Or even get here in the first place?”

“I walked…” Jason admitted, trailing off. He’d wanted the silence to stretch a little longer, but…

“(Name)?”

“Hey,” you cut in, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Glad to know you remember my name.”

“I came because of mom… Was there really someone in the hallway?”

“Yeah... Some creep. I'm 80% sure he’s a pimp too.”

“A pin? What's that?”

“What's what?” Suddenly remembering the limits and implications of talking to a ten year old. Even if the streets were more home than Catherine and Willis, Jason was still a child. You too, but you have literally lived in the streets for some time.

Wonderful times.

“Doesn’t matter. Just be more careful, Jason.”

He hesitated, the weight of his next words sinking his shoulders. “Mom 's bad.”

Your face fell. “You shouldn’t have left her alone with Dad if she was already—”

“Willis is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Jail.”

“…Huh.” You slumped back against the door, your hand rubbing at your temple. “Well… you shouldn’t go back out at this hour,” you muttered, your tone softening. “Especially not in the rain.” You pushed yourself to your feet with a groan. “I���ll grab you a towel… Food?”

His stomach grumbled, betraying him entirely.

“Yeah. Food too then.”

[inthelibrarybtw]

get to know college!student!reader

college!student!reader who is naturally smart, and loves studying, it can get a little too much because she hates to get less than a B in her classes, in high school she got a C once and almost cried her eyes out (no one knows about this) she’s not a party girl, she’s more into staying in watching a movie with her friends, baking and if she’s alone reading a book. baking usually is like a coping mechanism that shows up around finals and midterms because it becomes stress baking, but sometimes she does it for fun or to have a nice little detail for someone she cares about. 

college!student!reader who is very kind, just don’t provoke her,  hates confrontations but always sets her limits. her anxiety and overthinking can get the best of her, her friends know that and always reassure her when she’s having a bad day which is not that often but when it hits it hits hard. she has a hard time asking for help unless it’s her best friend from high school who sadly doesn’t go to the same college as her or kelce since they know each other since they were practically kids. she tends to cry when stressed, angry or when she’s exhausted and drained. 

college!student!reader who loves taylor swift and everything that anyone could classify as basic but she loves it, picking flowers, reading romance books, watching 90s and early 2000s shows. passionate for art and music, loves to go on walks while listening to music, you can catch her going to museums on her own, usually very independent but loves to spend time with her friends and people she loves, quality time is her number one love language and physical touch is the second even if she doesn’t like to admit it. who barely understands sports but when her friends invite her to football or basketball games, she goes to spend time with them and because they always go out for food afterward. 

college!student!reader who is an only child which has allowed her to have a good relationship with her parents, her high school best friend is like her sister, she loves her friends and respects them a lot. she’s really hard on herself, even if she knows she has people who will be there for her no matter what sometimes she shuts down and doesn’t speak to anyone about what she’s going through, shields herself with reading, and externalizes her emotions on playlists or listening one song on a loop as longs as it fits to how she’s feeling.

college!student!reader who loves to take pictures of everything and share them on her social media, it’s like her digital diary. her major suits her for that reason, digital marketing with a minor in graphic design, to in her words “make everything look pretty”. who is bilingual, her mom taught her Spanish since she was little and she uses it a lot when talking to her family and some friends. who is also very sarcastic, always has a smile on her face and most of the time she won’t verbally say stuff but her face sure will let you know everything before she even thinks about saying it.

authors note: thank you so much for all the love this fic is already receiving!! college!student!reader (aka Avery) is very dear to my heart, she has a lot of bits and pieces that I took from my life and put them into who she is. I hope you guys like her and get more excited to read about her.

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[icarusredwings]

I rewatched Deadpool 2 and took notes.

Disclaimer: He's mentally ill and does mentally ill things (GASP, who would have thought?). Also, violence. A lot of violence. It's really long. Like.. really really long.

The very first words he says is "fuck wolverine"

Then blows his own head off with a shit ton of gasoline. Wonder if he had insurance on that appartment.

He started taking worldwide cases

He also admits to knowing "8th grade spanish"

"Passion of the christ. Then me." Says the man whos marvel jesus now.

I wonder how much wade owes cab guy.

Cab guy killed bandu Lmao

"What is it?"

"My IUD"

"A bomb??" Tell me why he was lowkey excited for it to be a bomb?

I love how serious he gets talking about how scared he is to be a dad.

This empire joke traveled from the first movie too.

"Pretty sure it doesn't work that way but we can try" yes.

When making toaster strudles its almost as if he could sense them coming despite it being so silent. This kind of makes me think that Logans not the only one who just jumps up sometimes.

This man really just said "Fuck it" jumped out of a 2 story window, BOLTED after this guy as fast as he could, got hit by a car, rammed another car, and whole ass hugged this guy before jumping in front of a truck with him. I don't want to see anyone try to tell me he's one sandwitch drop away from jumping off a cliff.

Cinatography by Blind Al.

Directed by one of those guys that killed john wicks dog.

God I love Ryan Reynolds because you know it was him.

Wade stop peeing your pants in public.

Weasel "We still have bowie..." Yeah id lie to him too at this point.

"Yeah im fine"

Fucked up

Insecure

Needy and

Emotional. Kübler ross apprently.

"Buck no more speaking lines for you" and he meant that shit.

Al is so humble and sweet. Making tea and giggling. Tries to shoot him and then just hears him collapse on the floor. How many times do you think he collapses on the floor a week? Just to be drimatic?

"Sweetheart can you speak up? Its a little hard to hear you with yhat pity dick in your mouth" Oh so shes his mom. Al is his fucking mom. Hands down. And the best one.

I love how he decided to do an entire bag of cocaine before dying. There was no reason for it and honestly was a waste of cocaine until you realize that these cocaine is wades whiskey. Shots dont work for him really, probably because hes already done it so much, but its the same way how Logan chugs that bottle before wade kidnaps him. Its easier to blame it on a substance then accept those were your actions.

Ness is so cute. The poster behind her has "I love you wade wilson" scratched into it. Its nice to know that his version of heaven is literally just a cozy Saturday morning with his wife.

Colossus just walking in to find wades body parts everywhere and put him in a bag like old dirty clothes lol

"Why cant I fucking die" tone was SO serious.

The fact that theres an x men rule book and its lowkey thicker then a bible. I bet you scott and Logan made 80% of those.

"That asshole was me" oh the tears. Baby boyy.

Wait isnt cable literally scotts son.

Im never going to understand this fucking time line jesus christ

Mutant rehabilitation?? What is he a drug addict? That kid is clearly in pain dipshits.

"X men trainee" is so funny

"Please stop cheating on me"

Daniel the pedophile looking ass

Bro casually signs ryan reynolds on the wolverine cereal box and then destroys his knee caps.

"Those guys hurt you??" It was at that moment, wade went ape shit.

Wade having fun in prison is so him. But come on imagine going to prison just for standing up to an abused child. Not to mention, His face when he immediately realizes how fucked he is and that "oh shit I actually DO have cancer now and it SUCKS"

Is it just me or does Cable reminds you of forge with all his cool fix it abilities. Or is he just futurey.

He didn't say were not friends to make him upset but to draw attention to himself. Him just eye rolling when stabbed in the hand was so funny too because he was like "Ouch. God damn it. Ducking OUCH."

Hes literally pleading with russel to find someone else to peotect him or hes gonna get molested because he cant do anything. His entire power is replacing dead cells WITH new cancer cells. His entire body is dying 24/7 but never fast enough to actually kill him, always regrowing way too quickly. Cancerous is better then dead.

"Get away from me kid" yeah cause he knows hes trouble and he REALLY doesn't wanna watch this kid die.

"Who the hell tries to kill a 14 year old boy"

"Kids give us a chance to be better then we used to be"

Dopinder is so wholesome. I love him so much. No i dont care that he killed a guy. Hes the type of friend you call to take to the movies or the zoo once every year and hes stoked just to be invited.

Peter: I just thought it looked fun :D

Dopinder: FUCK

Peter is that one dad whos kids left the nest and now he needs friends and a hobby so searches for the biggest weirdos he can find.

"Grab the boy- NOT INAPPROPRIATELY >:("

i love his crayon maps/plans

Oh my god weasel im not telling you anything ever again you snitch (same dude, cable is terrifying)

After crying over the love he has for his new team (x force) Wade confirms that he spent 10 years in special forces.

I love how supportive wade is with Peter despite him just being a normal dude only for him to immediately die LMAO

He just cassually lets his impulse win in which he steals a moped.

Oh i just noticed Dominos vitiligo. I always loved vitiligo charaters. Theyre so unique and barley ever given movie roles. Like why not?? Why wouldnt you want someone so beautiful? Im pretty sure she just has make up but it would be cool if not.

Something else is that cable just starts yeeting criminals out onto the street lol

"Theres nothing I cant kill" Let me intorduce you to the man whos on a constant road to dying but can never actually get there.

Im assuming cable wants to kill russel because he unleashes a big bad guy or something.

*cassually snaps neck back into place* Oh god that hurt!

Oh I was right! It was Juggernaut :)

Wade: *gets excited about being PHYSICALLY ripped in half*

"Rub my legs mama 🥺 I got growing pains"

"Oh noo! No no no Dp not again!" We love you Dopinder. Do not ever stop caring. "This shits happened before!?" Yes weasel. Sometimes your friends get ripped in half. Get used to it.

Wade just moves her gun to the right position.

Wade talking about saving russel is so serious that it makes you forget that he has a tiny baby ass rn. I couldn't make a deal with someone woth tiny baby legs... just... no. Not to mention that those baby legs are made of cancer.

"50 years from now you're super fucking dead"

Wade standing outside of the xmen mansion with his phone and a picture of a boom box playing music for Colossus to come outside and help him save russel is something i can see happening to Logan. They have a fight and he storms off to the mansion only for wade to stand outside like that.

"Hi Wade🎀✨️" "Hi Yukio!🥹 you guys make a super cute couple 😊 where was I? 🤨"

"So you wear a helmet so your brother cant read your mind?" "Yeaaahh" average kid conversations.

"Lets fuck some shit up is my legal middle name"

Okay sir edgelord.

Apprently wade has a gluten sensitivity

What is it with wade and metal men??? My man has a type.

"Im just gonna use this brick and maximum effort" Same wade. Same.

Yaayy!! Go yukio! Eveyone loves yukio.

"Thats how we do it in mother russia" What? Shoving an electrical cable up their ass and then put them in a pool? Damn. Ok.

That "I never should have never left you in that prison" with the hug? Man hed be a decent dad I think.

"Dont be ive been trying to make this happen for awhile" okay someone supervise him 24/7. Hes on the active watch list.

Wade: *is dying* Hi Yukio :D

Yukio: Hi wade :)

"R-dog" Oh my god hes too cute.

Them carrying the racist joke all the way til the end made me cringe but that was the point.

His last words being "do you wanna build a snow man?" Is such a deadpool thing.

I was NOT expecting to cry at the end of this stupid ass movie, AGAIN

"Dont fuck colossus" VANESSA KNEW

THE FUCKING COIN

"Is there a knife in my dick?" "There's a knife in your dick."

Oh I just didn't even notice she has heterochromancia! <3 Aahh!!

PFFT DOPINDERS SECOND CONFIRMED KILL

"WERE DEFINITELY NAMINF OUR KID CHER"

"Dont scratch!" *shoots himself 8 times* "Love you! Bye."

Wolverine: ???

[illyrianbrat]

Choose (Rhea Ripley/TJD imagine)

Pairing: Platonic!The Judgement Day x female!reader

Warnings: spoilers for Fastlane 2023 if you haven't watched it, no google translate because spanish is my first language, typical wrestling violence, angst, him or me trope, gaslighting, choking, mentions of bruises and marks, made up women's championship, is finn the villain? probably

Setting: Monday Night Raw after WWE Fastlane 2023

-

The air felt thick in the locker room. At least it felt that way for Y/N.

She finally had a match for the new women's championship. Y/N had worked hard for weeks, training and practicing her moves, and working on her strategy. Rhea had been a huge help for her, as she was the current Raw Women's Champion. The match was against Becky Lynch. Y/N didn't lie to herself, Becky was great at what she did, and beating her was going to be tough.

“JD is going to be on standby to help you,” Finn told Y/N, making her snap out of her thoughts. JD stood there, smiling.

“What? Why?” She replied, confused.

“What do you mean "why”? Nobody will see it coming, because they'll expect Rhea or Dom to go out there with you.”

“Yeah, you could use the surprise to your advantage,” Dom pipped in, softly nudging her arm.

“I could go with you if you want,” Damian suggested, noticing she wasn't liking the initial idea.

“No.” Y/N finally said, standing up from the couch. Everyone looked at her, some shocked and some not surprised.

“Why not?” Both Finn and JD asked at the same time.

“I can do this on my own,” Y/N reminded them, making Finn scoff. “I really don't want anyone there with me. I want to show everyone that I do belong in this group.”

Rhea was quiet, analyzing everything. A slow, burning rage crept up on her for the way they were treating Y/N.

“It's time for my match, I’ll see you guys later.”

When Y/N left and closed the door, Rhea turned to look at the guys. “You heard her. I don't want anyone out there, do you understand? It's what she asked.”

-

The match had gone on for 20 minutes. The crowd was deafening, loving the way Becky and Y/N worked with each other. It was such an important match for both of them.

It had been very back-and-forth, both women showing their incredible skills and determination. Y/N, using a new move, locked Becky into a submission hold. The crowd cheered in anticipation as Becky groaned in pain, her fingers trying to reach the ropes.

Y/N heard boos and turned her head towards the ramp. JD McDonagh was making his way to the side of the ring. He rushed and got to the apron, attempting to help Y/N by distracting the referee. Both he and Y/N set their attention to the guy, not noticing Becky was tapping out.

She released the hold, pissed that JD went against her wishes. As Y/N turned back to Becky, though, she used the distraction in her favor. She quickly did the Manhandle Slam, sending Y/N crashing to the mat. Before going for the pin, Becky kicked JD off the ring.

Y/N sat there motionless as Becky’s theme song was playing. The ringing in her ears was so loud that she couldn't really distinguish if the crowd was cheering or booing. She almost had it, the championship was at the tip of her fingers, and now it was gone.

As the lights dimmed for a commercial break, Y/N pulled herself together and quickly went backstage. The Judgment Day was waiting for her behind the curtain, all of them panting and out of breath.

Y/N walked past them towards the locker room, without even uttering a word.

“Y/N wait,” Dom called out, walking after her. “Please stop walking.”

“I really don't wanna talk right now,” Y/N admitted. Dom grabbed her arm softly, making her stop. “Dom-”

“We didn't know he was going to do it,” Dominik informed her. “He was called for an interview right after you left and then he was out there. We ran but we didn't make it in time. Everything happened too quickly.”

“What's done is done, just leave me alone.”

-

“Damian, come on, let him go,” Finn pleaded.

JD was pressed against the wall, a few inches off the ground, Damien tightly choking him. “This is all your fault. Ya me tienes harto.” (I’m so tired of you.)

“I told you to stay backstage. What part of that didn't you understand?” Rhea barked, pissed off.

“Come on guys, we couldn't have poss-”

“Enough!” Damian interrupted Finn. “You knew he would do it because you told him to. You are both responsible.”

Finn laughed nervously. “No, man, I didn't tell him anything.”

Dom lightly tapped Rhea’s shoulder, pointing at Y/N’s bag still on the table. She was still in the arena. Rhea left to go look for her.

After walking for what felt like hours, she found her on the other side of the arena, sitting on top of an equipment cart. “There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you.” Rhea sat next to her, taking in her appearance. There were bruises and red marks all over her face and body.

Y/N didn't reply, just sat there, hugging her legs. In reality, she wanted to scream and cry, tear everything apart.

“Come on, love, talk to me,” Rhea begged, softly caressing her arm.

“I… asked for one thing tonight, just one… and he couldn't do that for me.”

“I know,” Rhea sighed. “We should've been paying him more attention, but I was sure he wasn't going to do anything.”

“Finn doesn't respect me,” Y/N informed her. “And before you ask why, he always gaslights and belittles me in a joking way, but we all know it's not a joke. He never considers my feelings or what I want. I lost my match, because of him and his friend. They lost their titles at Fastlane because of JD and I’m also sure he did something to the briefcase.”

“Y/N-” Rhea started, but Y/N kept talking.

“If JD McDonagh joins the Judgement Day, I’m out.”

They both stared at each other, Rhea not knowing what to say to that. She would leave? She couldn't leave them… not like that.

“I'm going to our next city, see you next week.”

“Wait, you're not coming to the rest of the shows?” Rhea asked, confused and even more worried.

“No… I need a break,” Y/N admitted. “I'll see you later, tell Damian and Dom I left.”

Rhea stood there, at a loss. Her favorite girl was about to leave a group that has fought so hard to get to the top, all because two idiots didn't care about her enough to listen to a simple request. The anger from before was spilling over. She felt her hands shaking from it. Finn and JD hurt Y/N, now they were going to pay.

[alessiathepirate]

Resident Evil 4

CIGARETTES IN THE MORNING: Luis Serra x fem!reader

Summary: Just some soft morning moments with Luis Serra - including some cigarettes -, because we all need some soft Luis Serra moments in our lives.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I made while I wrote this short story.

As I wrote before, my Spanish isn't the best so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes in the Spanish words I used. With that I'd like to say a special thank you to @angi-writes-filth for the kind words and the reassurance that my Spanish isn't as bad as I thought it was :)

Also I'd like to say thank you for all the positive feedback and responses I've got. I really appreciate it :)

Luis Serra makes me go weak these days, so have some soft moments with him as proof to that.

Warnings: smoking

•••

The room was painted in a shade of orange mixed with some gold and red as the sunrise found its way inside the apartment. Waking up to that sight was truly breathtaking and after all the hard, physically demanding work she had to do, it gave her a peace of mind. Eyes only slightly open, looking at her own hands where all the colours the sunrise brought were mixed together, she finally felt at ease.

Her eyes slowly, but surely examined her environment, this time being sure that it's a safe place. It's not some shack in Spain, it's not some big hallway in a castle - it's her home. It's her home where she isn't lonely anymore.

She turned around in the bed, kicking the duvet back to its place when it got tangled with her legs. She was about to reach for a bare chest or the soft, dark brown locks of hair, when she realized that her lover's side of the bed was empty. She let out a long breath in annoyance - no cuddling this time.

Sitting up and pulling the duvet off of her body, she looked around the room, this time being more observant, checking the side what she didn't examine a few seconds ago. There he was, at an open window with his back to her, elbows resting on the windowsill. He was smoking, she was sure of it, because she could see some small clouds of smoke running up in the air, even if his body was hiding the cigarette in his hand.

She laid back down, hugging a pillow to her chest, while she kept her gaze on him. She had to admit that Luis Serra was attractive even in the mornings - more than attractive, beautiful; damn the people who say that word can't be used for men.

She wouldn't use that word for anyone who wasn't special, but Luis truly deserved that compliment. His physique, his dark brown hair - what she liked to play with at night - and those eyes most of the time shining from something flirty yet clever, made him irresistible. And she didn't even think about the way he talks or acts yet.

She got out of bed as quietly as she could and walked towards him slowly, not wanting to disturb him and also wanting to surprise him with a hug. When she was right behind him, she gently put one arm around his torso, while she touched the scar on his back with the other.

Luis seemed surprised, making her chest swell with pride. He didn't neccessary jump, but his shoulders became tense and his hands started to shake slightly, almost dropping the lighter he was even now playing with. She loved the trick he could do with it - it was a Luis-thing, and the fact that he could make that seem attractive was also a Luis-thing.

"You got a smoke?" she asked teasingly, making him giggle. God, she loved to hear him laugh.

"Good morning, cariño." was the first thing he said as he put the lighter down and tenderly took the hand she was keeping on his abdome to press a gentle kiss on it.

"Good morning to you too."

She drew an invisible circle around his scar with her thumb, then drew through the whole, rough line where once the deep wound was. She pressed a kiss to his right shoulder as an I love you. When she felt his grip on her hand tighten, she knew the message got through.

"You didn't stay to cuddle." she said, doing her best to sound angry, but in reality both of them knew she wasn't upset about it.

"I'm sorry, querida. I didn't think you'd wake up so early." he kissed her palm this time as a sorry. "But I'm sure we can still make some time for it."

Next thing she knew she was standing in front of him, with her back to him, while one of his arm was around her torso. He also did his best to keep the cigarette far away from her face and hair, not wanting to burn her.

"Yeah, this is much better."

Luis threw the cigarette into an ashtray, now being able to fully concentrate on his lover. He put his head on her shoulder, while his free hand was playing with her hair.

"Your bedhead is really cute, cariño."

She felt her cheeks become slightly pinker at the compliment. "Thank you."

"You know, for someone who went to Spain to find the missing señorita, you can get pretty shy sometimes, querida."

There was no way she could hide her face from him, so she did her best to ignore the feeling that her cheeks are red. "Yeah, I bet you're really happy that this shy señorita was there to find your flirting attractive."

"Of course I am."

"Of course you are. You should be." she said teasingly.

They were standing there for a while as the first few people started to appear on the streets, most likely going to work to start the day early. For the first time since forever she wasn't jealous of them for having a normal life. No, this time she was happy that she can stay in with someone she loves, with someone who loves her.

After a while they changed the position as Luis started to smoke again.

"Do you want to go back to bed, querida?"

"We can if you want to. But only after a coffee." she answered as she looked him in the eye, liking the way his eyes lit up when he looked at her.

"Of course, I can make you one."

"And you called Leon Prince Charming, when you offer to help a señorita?" she teased, while she took his cigarette to take a puff from it.

"I only offer to help one certain señorita and you know it." her grip on the cigarette almost failed her at the compliment. Luckily Luis took it from her in time.

She didn't answer, not knowing what to say to that. Teasing or joking with Luis was always a loosing game. There was no way she could say anything to him to make him flustered or shy - even if only for a second. Or even if she succeeded in it, he'd always have a clever, either cute or flirty comeback what always made her blush.

His second cigarette landed in the ashtray as well after he kissed her. He tasted like the thing he was smoking, not like it bothered her. It was also a Luis-thing, something what couldn't just disappear without leaving an empty space behind.

"Let's go and make that coffee."

This time she kissed him - as a thank you.

The days with Luis Serra definitely started off happily.

[maxdibert]

i want to know what do you think about Remus since you already talk about James and Sirius i really need to know :3

When someone puts a big topic on the table, in Spain we say: sujétame la cerveza lol So yeah, Lupin is one of THAT topics. Here we go:

Look, I can deal with Remus Lupin having literally zero self-esteem and a massive inferiority complex, and for that reason using Sirius and James as his safety net at Hogwarts, not stopping them when they were complete jerks because he was afraid they'd reject him and he’d end up alone. I can deal with that, I can excuse being an accomplice to bullying just like I can excuse Severus for getting involved with the Death Eaters because he saw himself as vulnerable. I forgive him, seriously. I can even forgive him for being an absolutely irresponsible adult and not taking his potion—Merlin knows why. I can let that slide too. But there are two things I can’t let slide.

The first, and less important one, is that he justified James’ actions to Harry. I mean, it's the least important because I can understand not wanting to tarnish the kid’s image of his father, but when the same kid is telling you that his father and his friends (including you) were assholes, maybe you should admit that you were a total jerk. Or that at least your friends were, and you did nothing. I get why Sirius denied his guilt because, well, Sirius Black. Like, what are you going to expect from him? To him, there was nothing wrong with it. But Remus was aware that it was wrong, and as an adult, he can admit it. You don’t have to make up some story about Snape envying James over Quidditch (lolololol like Severus Snape would remotely care about that gym-bro crap). But anyway, I see this as almost the least serious thing.

What I will never, ever forgive him for in my entire fucking life is that at 36/37 years old, with gray hair already down there, HE WAS ALMOST FORTY YEARS OLD, PEOPLE, he got a woman in her twenties pregnant, had an existential crisis, and was considering leaving her WHILE SHE WAS PREGNANT WITH HIS CHILD. WHAT IS HE DOING?? Like, I don’t even know how to express this in English because my language is Spanish, and I swear I have a ton of adjectives in that language to insult this man, but in English, it’s harder—but hello?? He was ALMOST FORTY YEARS OLD, HIS WIFE WAS TWENTY-FIVE, HE SLEPT WITH HER, GOT HER PREGNANT, AND LEFT??? HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE, REMUS LUPIN?? WHAT’S IN YOUR HEAD?? Like, if he was so terrified of passing on lycanthropy to the child, why didn’t he use a condom?? Or, I don’t know, the magical equivalent—HAVE YOU HEARD OF A VASECTOMY?? And if he really, truly felt so bad about impregnating A WOMAN IN HER TWENTIES—LIKE SERIOUSLY, LET'S PUT THIS IN PERSPECTIVE: SOMEONE THIRTEEN YEARS YOUNGER THAN HIM. THIRTEEN. DAMN. YEARS. Why didn’t he just NOT DO IT? Like, as the adult in the relationship, he could’ve genuinely said no. No, this is unacceptable. No. No, sorry. So many years of gender studies and feminist readings for this. SCREW THE NICE GUYS. Like, his whole “woe is me, I’m poor, I’m old, I’m ugly, I’m dangerous” schtick? Well, you should have gone off to Timbuktu then, but don’t get her pregnant only to then abandon her. A TEENAGER HAD TO GO. A TEEN-AGER had to tell him he was being a piece of shit. This is why I say Rowling doesn’t respect her female characters because if she really did, she would have had Tonks dump him and raise the child on her own because, seriously, what was she thinking?

Just talking about this makes me genuinely angry. It's just that Lupin is THAT KIND OF GUY, you know? The one who acts all nice and soft and like he’s never broken a plate in his life, and he’s all poor me, and I’m super nice and super sweet, but then he turns out to be a huge jerk, like a giant piece of work. He’s the textbook nice guy, and one of the worst, the kind who goes after young women. Look, I’m just saying that if Harry Potter were written today and the topic of Lupin came up, and Rowling didn’t condemn him to the stake in her books, she would have been canceled a long time ago. Seriously. There’s no way that in today’s fiction a man nearly 40 years old gets a twenty-something pregnant and threatens to leave her, and that this guy is seen positively by the narrative. Simply no. Canceled. I’m canceling you, Remus Lupin, not for myself, but for feminism. Thanks.

[lloydfrontera]

now that i got all that positivity out of my system. what is this.

this is. so wrong. on so many levels. it's almost funny except not really and i'm just laughing because being angry is exhausting ajshdjkfds

i'm sorry i keep being a killjoy who can't take a joke but!! this is so against javier's character!! javier would never do something like this his entire deal is about how loyal he is and how protective he gets with the people he cares for!! he wouldn't put lloyd in danger for his own amusement!!

even at his pettiest, and god knows he's a massive brat with lloyd, he's still always on guard for whatever may threaten his life that's literally his major priority, something he takes very seriously!!

heck even in this very arc we get a little glimpse of how javier thinks!

I must play my part here without any mistakes. Javier remembered how Lloyd had come to Hell because of his trust with him. So, he could not let Master Lloyd down. He had to get the job done, even if it was dangerous. Javier believed that was his primary duty while escorting his young master through Hell, to begin with.

what part of this gives any indication that javier takes his duty of protecting lloyd lightly. much less that he enjoys seeing lloyd be in danger.

not to mention what they did with the lava giant asking if he really wants to protect lloyd and javier actually has to think about it

like. c'mon.

contrary to what i may look like i actually do know what a joke is i get it they're just being funny. however. there's a saying in spanish, 'entre broma y broma la verdad se asoma', meaning 'between joke and joke the truth appears'. you can only joke about something so much before people start thinking you're for real. and making javier constantly act like he doesn't give a crap about lloyd,,, well, it can only mean so much y'know?

which sucks because that's not the point of javier's character. much less in this arc. he cares about lloyd so much, even when he doesn't want to, and that affects almost every single thing that he does. he likes and trusts lloyd more than he's comfortable admitting but at no point in the entire story does he act like he doesn't care about what happens to lloyd.

this was supposed to be the arc where javier learns that the person he grew to care about and trust the most in the entire world has been lying to him for years and despite feeling deeply betrayed and rattled he decides to take a chance on him because that's how deep his trust and belief in him has gotten. instead in the webcomic javier already knows lloyd is a fake, doesn't really care and apparently also doesn't really give a crap about his safety. like! make it make sense!!

[theartless]

LIKE U NEED LOVE, ryomen sukuna.

𝗪𝗪𝗪. 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗜.𝗖𝗢𝗠. ?!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ SUKUNA!DEMON/INCUBUS & READER/!SUCCUBUS. 

🍓title: talk dirty like u need love (let’s see who gets this song reference hehe). 

🍓 warnings. pls minors do NOT interact in this shot. sorry if i had mistaken something, i´ve translated the entire shot from my native language which is not english…  

this shot contains pure SMUT. i will say again this shot contains NSFW, +18 content. a little content of OOC (out of character) sukuna!slightly soft, alcohol / illicit substance, blood scene, gore, slight cannibalism mentioned but NOT between the main characters, little mention of supernatural world and magical creatures, demonic love, pet names (sweetheart, little lamb), slight biting, size kink, no protection, slight choking, groping, nipple play, fingering, masturbation, cunnilingus, dick sucking. 

🍓summary. when you have a crazy party night with ieiri, suguru and satoru, you didn’t realise that your glass had a special substance… 

🍓slight description. where sukuna teaches u how to control your own body (meow). 

🍓a/n: sooo finally is here, i´m so glad i could finish it before new year hehei really, really hope u like it, it would be soo nice if you comment your opinions below, and if i should make more parts of this shot <3

must admit i have used deepl in order to check the correct verb tenses (i´m not proud about that), but all the words are mine, i also have the entire shot in spanish. 

i honestly would appreciate sm if you repost it or comment smt <3

🍓 credits abt the banner: roseschoices.

🍓word count. 5k.

🎧♱★ playing promiscuous!, nelly furtado. ★♱🎧

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It's not how you start, but how you finish.

That phrase stayed highlighted in your mind during that night. Especially since the before and after of that underworld party you attended with your group of best friends, you started off well, but ended up much worse than any other day. To begin with, you were immediately overwhelmed by the crowd, something that never used to happen to you. To continue, you suddenly felt very tired and you almost had just started the party. 

These were two quite rare specific events for someone who could stand in a party till very late at night and even one entire night if you wanted to.

"Another drink? " Getō asked. But you shook your head in a negative response. " I'm fine with the last one, thanks."

The black-haired man shrugged and took the violet shot for you, followed by Shōko and Satoru, who also finished their glasses in one row. You felt obliged to accompany them to the bar to order another round, this time, only for them. 

You had to stop drinking that exotic beverage because continuing doing that only would affect your actual bad state. And you didn't want to go home in that situation. Or at least, in an extremely lousy one. 

Although in fact you didn't even want to go back to your 'home' with your human parents who didn't even care about you. They had adopted you in order to integrate more easily into the society of creatures of the night and to acquire a certain prestige within it. Once they had achieved their selfish goal, they left you completely aside, going by their own way and so you too.

You didn't know if that would be bad, since your parents had always been checking up on you… Until they stopped.

Although actually, you quite enjoyed that fact, as long as you got good grades in college. And since there was no exam in sight at the very near moment and they had a business trip, you decided to go out with your group of friends.

You just wanted to forget about your miserable life for a little... Was it so much to ask? You only wanted to have a good time with your friends and maybe, just maybe, why not, finish the night with some handsome vampire who could bite…

You had heard that they were very good lovers. But since you'd never been allowed to go out of the house too much, you had hardly experienced anything. You just wanted to try one miserable night. Hopefully, with a little luck, maybe this would be that night. 

You went out from time to time, if your parents were traveling or just not at home, monitoring what you were doing.

You only had one partner in your short life, although well, he was human and never fully understood your nature.

But you weren't sure which one it was either. You certainly knew you had magic, you knew you had power, but you still couldn't figure out what it was… Even though you secretly fantasized about being a witch or a vampire, your power still hadn't fully manifested. And until it did so, you wouldn't know what kind of creature you would be. 

The marks could be of many types.

Those of vampires were their noticeable fangs, as well as having very pale skin. On the other hand, those of witches was to accentuate a unique feature of your appearance, whether it was a mole, a different colored eye, hair... There were many different ones, and you studied them all. Someday you hoped you could become something similar. 

One of your biggest insecurities was staying like this, without access to any power. Or if you would just keep looking like an average human.

All your friends had a more or less recognizable brand... Except you. You hoped to get it someday. Satoru with his unusual hair color, Getō's mark was more subtle, his pretty jet hair and the gift of clairvoyance, but that was something. And then there was Shōko with her extreme paleness… 

When this topic came to your mind, occasionally you used to recall your past relationship with Nanami with yearning. 

Kento was very patient with you, until he cheated on you with the baker of a store in his neighborhood. You were still ached from the surreal situation you lived through when he blamed you for all the times you left home with your best friends, firmly believing that you cheated on him with one of them.

What a cruel joke of fate that he was the one who ended up doing it. Without any explanation, moreover. You guessed he got tired of waiting for you to open up to him more. But, honestly, you just couldn´t. Everytime you tried to do it, he didn't look interested. 

Of course, your adoptive parents also took his side. It was a disgusting week where you just wanted to cease to exist. Fortunately, after that unlucky relationship attempt, they left you alone, allowed you to do pretty much anything you wanted and never meddled in your love life again, considering the awful failure that resulted. 

That early morning you really felt worse than any other day you had ever partied and drank beverage prepared by seelies or any other magical being of the underworld.

You didn't even know the reason, because you didn't change the type of liquor, you didn't even mix energy drinks with your drink. You felt drained of energy, severely short of breath and totally dehydrated.

You warned Suguru and Gojō that you were going outside for a moment, and they both asked if you wanted company, but you simply shook your head in refusal. You would probably go home afterwards if you continued like this; your head was spinning despite you drank little and your nausea was increasing more and more. 

You were absolutely sure that you just needed to breathe; you felt your windpipe closing up while you were inside the club where a certain white-haired friend of yours took you. 

You snorted, pushing your way out of the room, throwing a few elbows and dodging bodies until you reached the door. " At last." You whispered. The reverberation of music could be heard in the background, even having left the venue behind.

Something was definitely terribly wrong with you.

Instead of feeling relieved, your whole body was beginning to consume you. Your body temperature, already elevated because you had been dancing with a large group of numerous shapeshifters, seelies, lycanthropes, vampires and other creatures, felt much higher than usual. Your blood pumped and flowed rapidly in your veins, your heart beated more frantically than usual and an unfamiliar thrill whipped through your body.

Surprisingly, and in spite of everything, you were very, very hungry. Your stomach was roaring urgently for food.

Your legs began to tremble, so you leaned against the wall. Your balance was precarious, as was the state you were in. Finally, as the feeling of dizziness wouldn't go away, you decided to sit down for a while to rest. With your head leaning back, your body trembling and with an incredible thirst that you had never experienced before.

You tossed your hair back not quite knowing what to expect. You sighed, exhaling to try to get some reassurance. You didn't. Your head began to pound more, and you even swore you felt an indescribable pain in your gums. You were very hot. In fact, you were sweating, too much to be a normal reaction. Your breathing was irregular and rapid, the sticky beads of sweat were getting more and more annoying, and you didn't even have enough energy to move.

You were suffocating and didn't know how to act.

Nor did you remember the moment when you closed your eyes, settled against the wall and decided that a little sleep was a good option, but by the time you woke up, you only knew that you were no longer in the same place where you fell asleep.

In fact, you didn't even know where you were. Lost in a street that was not even remotely familiar to you, you looked around.

It was a dark alley whose only illumination came from a streetlamp on its last legs. You checked your phone, expecting a myriad of messages, but found to your surprise that there were none. Apparently, whether or not you were unconscious, or whatever happened in that time lapse, you were lucid enough to let your friends know that you were definitely leaving the party. For some reason you sighed with relief. You didn't want them to worry too much unnecessarily.

A little glance down made you turn away from the wall where you were. You were covered in blood. It wasn't yours, you could deduce, because you didn't hurt at all, nor did you see, nor did you feel any scratches on your skin. "What the f-?" you murmured, but no one answered. There was only you on that street. The howl of the wind was the only thing you could hear. The warmth you once had was gone and in its place, you had an optimal temperature.

You turned around, staring in horror at the most vomitous scene of your life. A man whose corpse was wide open, had human bites on his neck, torso and arms.

Blood was the main decoration of the scene, it was everywhere you looked. Holding a hand to your mouth, unable to believe that all this was your fault, you called the one person you knew would not judge you in spite of everything.

"H-Hello? " You called, your voice cracking. "Please, please, please, please... Answer me." You whispered, trying to make as little noise as possible. Because anyone who saw you there would think what indeed happened. There were four rings of the call before a gravely voice answered.

"Asura? "

He found you standing next to the corpse, with your arms around your body, and staring blankly. You didn't even know how to feel about this, because you remembered absolutely nothing of what had happened. But you knew it had been bad. Otherwise, you wouldn't have that fucking feeling of guilt gnawing at your insides, would you?

"Sweetheart? "

You back at him, but said nothing. Guilt consumed you. And he could see it through your eyes. He pursed his lips. Without a word, he rolled up his sleeves, held the remains of the corpse and finally wrapped it in a bag that he took out of the car, only to then put it in the trunk of the car. It hardly took him the slightest effort from what you could see.

"K-Kuna..." You murmured, as he turned to hold you in his arms, caressing your cheek. You held each other like that for a short period of time. You were still processing the shock, and, you speculated, it would take a little longer for you to wake up and make you aware.

"This makes things so much easier." That's all he mentioned, before holding you below the knees and carrying you over to the passenger seat of his sports car.

"What do you mean? " You decided to venture to ask, once he lent you his jacket, draped over you and began to drive to, you guessed, his apartment. His cologne was a combination of spice and bergamot that lingered on you. You inhaled deeply, taking in its scent, knowing that it was the only thing that could calm you in that catatonic state.

He placed his hand on your thigh and an electrifying sensation ran through your body. You shuddered involuntarily. "About your nature, Sura." You didn't know why he said it with a strange smile on his face. "I'll explain when we get home. It's better... if I demonstrate certain aspects to you in private." He settled the matter, but his hand never left your leg.

The ride in your car was tense and uncomfortable. At least, for you. Sukuna, for his part, looked like his usual self.

The silence didn't help either, and even less so the fact that his hand was gradually moving up by your tender flesh of your thigh, giving you gentle caresses and occasionally pressing his thumb and forefinger. You felt totally disoriented, because you didn't even know what he was about to warn you. However, once you got out of the car and reached the elevator that would take you straight to his floor, you decided to stand up to him and intervene, since he didn't utter a word in the whole ride.

"So, what do you have to tell me? " You folded your arms, waiting for an answer, in order to distract you from the fact that he had a corpse in his car. Really though, you didn't know what to expect. That night was being weird in every way.

"My sweet and impatient little lamb." He whispered, crossing the short distance that separated you, cradling your face in his hand and moving his mouth to your neck. You felt his lips brush your ear gently, only to then give it a little tug with his teeth. Your skin bristled. That one gesture was what ignited the spark in your body again. "I know how desperate you were to know what your magic was about, my dear. And I just found out right now."

"Is that so?" You asked, with the curiosity glinting in your gaze. He smiled slyly, bringing his hands closer to your waist, waiting for his next move like a cunning predator.

"Sweetheart, you are a succubus. I'm surprised no one noticed that before." He didn't even give you time to process it. He pushed your hair away from your neck with unbecoming gentleness as his lips took over your skin, nibbling, licking and teasing you further. A low trembling sigh escaped your lips. You clung to his shoulders; that simple kiss flustered your entire system.

"I don't get out much, you know." You replied, your breath hitching. Without saying anything, he stood behind you. Despite the fact that he didn't touch you, you could perfectly perceive his dark aura hovering over you. But you didn't care; something in you said to trust him, that he would make you feel good.

You didn't need to think twice; you decided to listen to that little voice in your conscience. You shortened the distance by taking a single step and he pressed your back to his chest, while he wrapped one of his arms around your waist. Your reflection returned the unseemly look in the elevator mirror at what was about to happen between you. You just let yourself go, you knew you would be safe with him and acted on instinct. And he could say more of the same.

"Yes." His free hand traveled down your anatomy, sliding ever so gently under your clothing.

"However..." Your breath was cut off as his hand found the valley of your breasts, and moving up a little further, he found your bra and tugged at it, breaking the cloth immediately. Suddenly, you heard the soft rattle of the metal of the underwire against the floor and the shredded fabric. The cold enveloped your skin for a few seconds, but soon the warmth and energy Sukuna emitted, ignited your body, enveloping you, creating an internal combustion in your soul.

"Yes? " He asked mockingly about you, as his fingers explored your newly uncovered nipple. Squeezing, pulling, circling it and repeating such actions.

"How did you figure that out... Now?" You gasped when he gently pinched it. "And before me? I just… don't understand..."

"The signs were there, you just had to pay some attention. But surely you must have taken or done something that triggered the reaction." He hissed, moving his mouth down your neck, throat and collarbone and descending with his other hand further and further south.

You immediately thought of that violet potion and the gore scene you woke up in. " Also, sweetie, you're forgetting one little detail. I am your counterpart."

The hand that was located lower down began to fiddle with the zip of your pants.

"Which means..." He unzipped and yanked your pants aside, leaving you with only your panties on.

"That I feel the kind of energy you're radiating, little lamb." His index finger slid across your skin.

"And what is it?"

"An absolutely delicious one that I can't wait to devour already."

You leaned your head back, seeking more support on his chest as he lubricated you with your own fluids and quickly inserted two fingers inside you, yearning to be the one inside you. You didn't even need more preparation; your fluids were already trickling down your thighs. His other hand went to your clitoris. It was quick, sudden and effective in making you shudder with pleasure. "Which in turn, means you need to be fed from me, even though you have already eaten." You shivered again at remembering it, but his direct contact with you calmed any extraneous thoughts of you in that situation. In that elevator. Your body temperature rose, as did his. 

With one of his hands moving scissor-like inside you and the other caressing your clitoris in slow circles, you felt how between his fingers you fell apart, closing your eyes and almost losing consciousness as he hit that sweet spot non-stop. Once, twice, three times. Your legs began to tremble without him offering you a single breath. Thanks to him, you felt your body just as warm as before you fainted. Burning, but this time it was because of being satiated in the most delicious of ways.

"What will you do with the body?" You didn't even know how you could articulate the required words to speak. His touch made you lose your sanity, you had never experienced anything this intensely glorious.

"Do you even really care about it?" He brought his right hand up, pinching your nipple, cupping your breast in his hand and finally resting on your neck, squeezing it lightly so he could control your breathing.

"Hm." You were only able to say that, before he pulled the rest of your clothes off.

He suddenly pulled his fingers away, to bring them to his mouth and let out a slight gasp. "Ah, sweetheart. Your taste drives me crazy."

"Kuna, please." You requested without knowing exactly what. Your body was acting according to your basic needs. You were sure that if he asked you to worship him, you would do it without a moment's hesitation. The only thing you were aware of was that he was emitting an appetizing scent that you wanted to have permeate your entire body. You needed it. Urgently. You had never experienced such a pressing need that hurt, but right now you felt on the verge of convulsing into an unstoppable frenzy if he didn't keep touching you. You had a suspicion that he knew how you were feeling and that he just wanted to make you wait a little while until he made you explode with pleasure.

"My pretty little flower wants more, huh?" You nodded frantically, sticking closer to him. "Stay like this." He commanded, holding you by the waist and pulling your anatomies even closer together, you could feel the noticeable erection he had.

"Uh." You moaned, as his fingers reached deeper inside you, exploring that juicy area again, moving the phalanges back and forth. You melted with his touch, you couldn't take it anymore. You let him know so, but he smiled condescendingly and pulled his hand away.

"Patience, my dear. The first dish will be here soon." You sighed as his fingers stopped filling you.

You felt the torrid heat his body was emitting and wanted to pull back for more. You wanted to clench your legs in desperation, but one of his hands stopped you. With the other one he pulled away and with one thrust he pulled you up on top of him, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

You had already reached the right floor.

"Now, honey, get ready for the only thing coming out of your mouth tonight, gonna be my name." 

He made you appear in his room. With you still in his arms, he advanced to the bed and settled you in the middle of the mattress, which sank when he placed his knee on one of the edges. You didn't even glance around, you just decided to make your mouth collide with his, sharing that vehement, irrepressible desire for each other. Your tongues met, his wouldn't let you breathe and you tried to keep the same rhythm by lining his lower lip.

The enthusiasm with which he devoured you was impulsive, rabid and violent, but you let him do as he pleased because you didn't want it in any other way. You bit down hard on his lip, so that a thin trickle of blood spurted out, which you licked from the corner of his mouth with a small mocking smile.

"Careful, little lamb. Two can play at that." As he spoke he brushed his lips against yours, provoking you, daring you and finally slipping his tongue between your lips as his hands ended up fumbling the rest of your body, already being completely exposed to him.

He ended up with his head on your nipple, licking and giving little nibbles along the path he had traced from your mouth, passing through the valley between your breasts and ending at the aureole surrounding that little pointed nipple due to his caresses and twisting the other one with his free hand.

"K-Kuna, please..." You moaned, trying to move, to reach something more than small, satisfying moments of relief... " Mph..." He continued to fondle your breasts, something that really stimulated you and caused your body temperature to rise, but always without reaching the final orgasm.

"Allow me to enjoy this a bit, sweetheart. After all, I can't always taste energy as sweet as this."

He traced a path of kisses from your sternum to your belly, descending further south, crouching on the edge of the bed.

He grabbed you by the legs and dragged you until you were facing him. "Now that the main course is coming, feel free to not hold it back. Here no one but me can hear you, and whoever does it, he's a dead man." The promise gleamed in his scarlet orbs. It left no room for doubt. You nodded, granting him full consent to do whatever he wanted with you. Though you would let him do anything to you.

He began by placing kisses on your right thigh, ascending very slowly. "This could be considered torture." You groaned, trembling at the expectation.

"Is that so, little lamb?" You replied with a slight nod. He smiled lasciviously. The stroke on your leg ended.

He slid his tongue loosely along your outer folds, up and down, but never in the center, enjoying your extreme exasperation because of his moves. With the warmth of his breath he further soaked your folds, basically, wherever his tongue found its way. Soon, he began to zigzag his tongue over your vagina before he began to lick and suck in circles over your hardened clitoris for a couple of passes until he turned his attention back to your outer lips, sucking on them, nibbling them gently and making your lubrication drip down your thighs again.

You moved your legs, trying to get him to focus on that other area, but it was totally useless to fight against the firmness of his grip.

"Be my good girl and be still." He ordered. "Or it ends here." You stopped immediately, trying to stop fighting your more primal urges. "That's the way I like it." His tone of voice betrayed his excitement, but for some reason, you saw him as very calm. Without any kind of worry, without any concern. As if this came naturally to him.

Like he'd done this one too many times.

A slight grunt came out of your mouth unconsciously. It felt as if a dormant part in you had awakened as you turned your mind to those thoughts. Sukuna's gaze met yours for a few seconds, watching you curiously, but he smiled with amusement, as if he could guess the line of your thoughts.

He just continued to go over your folds with his mouth with extreme gentleness, focusing on your neglected clitoris as he inserted a single finger inside you, moving it diagonally, pulling it out and inserting it again. "Kuna..."

"Yes, beautiful?" He looked at you through his bushy eyelashes.

"I want to taste you." You said breathlessly, a reaction due to his intense and constant caresses all over your body.

And you swore you could feel it nowhere and simultaneously, everywhere. In your breasts, between your legs, your folds... but you also wanted to be able to feel him in your mouth at least once or as long as this daring and seductive nighttime adventure would last. His gaze met yours and you watched the glowing flare around his scarlet irises again after he heard you say that.

"On your knees." He imposed with his voice low and hoarse, almost with the words coming out in a pressured, choked up voice. You couldn't identify whether it was due to excitement, anticipation of the moment or both. "Spread your legs wider and don't lean on your heels." You obeyed, opening up and leaving more space for him.

You felt a small draft between the bare skin of your thighs, before palpating your lover's epicurean torso with your hands; he had appeared beneath your body. "Ready for the principal dish on this menu?"

You didn't even respond when he held you by the hips with both hands, placed you over his mouth and pushed down until you again felt his warm tongue going over your entrance, teasing you. 

"Oh my..." You exclaimed, closing your eyes at his sudden intrusion.

"That's it honey, let yourself go. Sit on your throne, princess." He murmured, kissing your lips. A shiver ran down your lower back; you wouldn't hold out much longer.

His lips opened you up and devoured your interior without leaving a single hole untraveled while his fingers teased you, making you desire much, much more.

You gasped as you felt that slippery and warm tongue exploring you without hesitation, slightly delving inside you, before you began your work. Leaning forward, managing to position yourself well over her body, you started to return the favor.

With one hand you managed to balance yourself while with the other you held his cock, sliding it in and out of your mouth, running your tongue over the tip and sucking gently, the same that he had had with you so far, even though you thought he wouldn't be like that.

"Mph, hm." The lustful, high-pitched sounds coming out of your mouth combined with his as he licked and caressed you from every corner. Sliding your tongue down his length and enjoying the movements he made with his hips, with you accompanying the rhythm he setted.

"Fuck it, beautiful. If you keep this up I'll finish right now."

You felt the same way. Especially when again, he inserted two of his fingers now, which slipped very easily between your legs.

"I-I can't take it anymore... I need you now..." You murmured between whimpers for every thrust that delved deeper inside you. Your walls clung to his hand tightly, squeezing, squeezing his fingers as he delved deeper into you, moving gradually.

"Move over for me, baby."

His fingers stimulated you faster and faster, his tongue connected with your sensitive clit and arching your back slightly but still touching his penis, you ended up on his face while he continued to lick you without leaving a trace of what happened.

"Good girl." He gave you a light pat on your trembling thigh.

"P-please..." You insisted, closing your eyes and letting yourself go on that ecstatic adrenaline rush that only he had given you from his touch so far. And frankly, you doubted anything else would be able to even match it.

"If my little lamb asks me like this, I'll have to supply your needs. Because we don't want you to remain hungry, do we?" You shook your head, turning away from his body.

He took you back to the center of the bed, kicked off his shoes, yanked down his pants and along with them, he also got rid of his boxers. He climbed into bed with that same look in his eyes that promised you that neither of you were going to get any rest that night. You didn't care. In fact, you wanted to challenge him. You held his gaze as slowly hovered over you.

He seemed to stalk you like a predator, because you were going to be his prey that night. And it would be seen for the rest of the days... Although judging by the desire of both of us, the answer was already clear without the need to say it in words.

"I won't be gentle."

"I don't want you to be." You wanted to see his more primitive, wilder side.

"So my little lamb is into rough-and-tumble games, huh?"

He moved closer to you, grabbed you by the waist and with his free hand, again stroked you between your legs, stimulating your already wet entrance and opening you wider for him, though it wasn't necessary since he fitted himself inside you in a single move in which you both tilted your heads back with a pleasurable sigh.

"You receive me so well, Sura. Look at us." You obeyed and looked down to where you were connecting. "Look how we fit together so well."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him down. You placed your hands around his neck and pulled him towards you to capture his lips while you kept moaning between impudent sighs only smoothened by his mouth.

Your breathing was becoming more and more erratic and your legs were shaking and more.

With one hand, he held them so they wouldn't fall off. With the other, he continued to rub your nipples, hardening them and making you wetter. Apparently, they were one of your most sensitive spots and he found out.

"So does this turn you on?" He licked, sucked and nibbled eagerly at one of them while kneading the other with his hands. Your back arched, seeking more of his touch. "They're so pretty. And pink. I can feel how hot this makes you, how you drip on me." He kept nibbling all around, wringing pure cries of satisfaction from you.

You felt the pressure of his member making its way into your sensitive and tender flesh, and when it sank in completely, calmness spread through your system and the tingling in your stomach began to flutter, spreading throughout your body. Without you moving a single muscle, pleasure overwhelmed your senses, intoxicating you with an uncontrollable ecstasy to which you would become addicted.

"Mph... Ryo..." Sukuna kept moving with that relentless back-and-forth that drove you to madness.

When he slowed his pace you could feel him better. How he brushed against your walls and how they molded to his size, hitting the same spot his fingers had brushed. It was a unique sensation you never thought you could experience. Who said the best lovers were vampires? Of course they were wrong.

Your body moved suddenly with slight spasms, your vagina throbbed and you felt how Sukuna was also on the edge.

"Please, please…Don't stop." You mumbled. You didn't even know how it was possible for him to hear you, but he did.

"Oh, honey. I wasn't planning to stop even if I could. We still have a long night ahead of us."

Then, he abruptly separated your legs causing a small cry of surprise on your part, he held you by the waist and turned you around, leaving you with your back to him. He began to kiss your neck, your shoulders, your back... Then, his lingering citrus scent reached your nose and seduced you again, making you shiver in anticipation.

"This is so intense..." You mumbled against the pillow, pushing your hips up so he could get better access to you.

"Well, you haven't seen the best yet, my dear. Now, cum again for me."

"Su- ah!" You exclaimed, as you again felt his electric touch run all over your sensitive skin. "I don't think I can do it again..." You began, but when he turned you over and held one of your nipples between his lips again, moved his hand down to the vortex between your legs and began stroking your clitoris in slow circles, you again experienced an out-of-body sensation in which your legs trembled again and your muscles began to contract around him.

"You're going to cum twice more, to start with." He stated. "Fuck." He murmured. "Keep squeezing me like that, baby and... like this. Yes, yes. Oh, holy shit.."

"Don't stop..." You stammered, clinging more and more to him, to the thread of energy you felt between you. You wanted to pull and pull and absorb that strength, that vigor he still was carrying.

"Keep it up, beautiful. Wrap your legs around my waist." He ordered, helping you with one of his hands. That's when he gave the last lunge, intense, forceful and that was the one that made you squirm in his arms. You closed your eyes, letting yourself go.

"I-"

"I know, Sura. I feel how you are squeezing me. Move over for me." You didn't even hear the rest. You had surrendered to that sensation ever since you felt it.

"Sukuna..." you murmured, breathlessly. It had reached your most sensitive spot and had spilled inside you, producing a pleasurable burning sensation and warmth, which made you want to repeat.

"I know, honey, I know." He stroked your thigh.

"It's been… fucking great."

"Ten minutes."

"What?" You asked, in confusion.

"That's the time I'll let you rest before continuing with the next round."

[no-one-fuck-a-man]

Berry Blues

Season Two

Part Sixteen - (Original Song) Trouty Mouth!

Quinn Fabray x Reader

Summary: Against what you considered your teams better judgement, the New Directions were convinced to write original songs for the upcoming competition, that could seal your hopes and dreams of -temporarily- getting out of the small town you called home. If only drama didnt follow the club like a plague.

Word Count: 5,352

WARNINGS: Maths, argument, yearning, that’s mostly it

-----

"Guys, I've got some bad news."

"Oh, just what I want to hear on a morning," you sassed from your seat beside Artie, the boy helping you finish your calculus homework last minute.

"No one does, Y/N," Mr Schue drawled, "You know how we decided on 'Sing' by My Chemical Romance for Regionals? Well, I hold in my hand a cease and desist letter from the band. We can't do it."

Puckerman scoffed from the back of the choir room, "It was the perfect anthem."

At the Spanish teacher's statement, you pulled your attention where you were scribbling a -probably wrong- equation onto the paper in your lap, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"That really doesn't sound like something the band would do."

"How much do you wanna bet Coach Sylvester has something to do with this?" Mercedes asked, shaking her head.

"One step ahead of you."

"So, what are we gonna do now?" she continued.

Before Mr Schue could begin to offer up some words of confidence, whilst he secretly worried inside, Rachel voiced her opinion.

"I think we should write original songs for Regionals."

"Oh, nope. That's still a bad idea." You shook your head, turning back to your homework.

You hate to admit it because you loved your sister dearly, but your hand was one of the firsts that rose into the air after Santana's declaration.

"All those in favour of voting Rachel down a second time?"

However, what came next shocked you to your very core.

"No, I think Rachel is right."

With horrified eyes, you turned to look over your shoulder at the blonde sitting behind you.

"Who are you, and what the hell have you done with Quinn Fabray?"

The girl rolled her eyes at you.

"This team works best when we push ourselves and do something a little different."

At Quinn's defence for your sister, everyone with their hands raised slowly started to lower them, listening to her reasonings intently.

"That's true, but if the all the other teams are doing amazing songs, we're not gonna be so good."

"You're right. We're not gonna be as good. We're gonna be better," Quinn countered Mercedes, "We won't be using other people's words or music. It'll be our own. Our own heart, soul, not just our voices. We have a really talented songwriter in our midst. Rachel, I was thinking maybe you and I could write a song together."

Okay, now something was definitely up.

Not only was Quinn Fabray volunteering to spend time with your sister, working on a project, when you knew full well that she could barely stand the shorter diva Berry.

But she also called her a "talented songwriter", when if she was forced to hear any of the drafts you had been, you knew she would not be saying that. Nor would she be jumping -creating- the opportunity to work with her.

"I'm with Quinn and Rachel," Finn spoke, looking between the two teenagers he had dated, making you roll your eyes at him, "I mean, if these two can agree on something, it's probably an idea worth considering."

"Well, I still think it's a bad one."

"Wait a minute. So suddenly, you two are writing music for Regionals?" Santana asked, almost affronted, "No way. I think that everyone should get a chance to write a song."

Sam was quick to agree with his girlfriend.

"Santana's right. We can do this."

"What do you think, Mr Schue?" Mercedes asked the man standing in the centre of the room, cease and desist letter still within his grasp.

The curly-haired man shrugged, giving a tight-lipped but pleased smile.

"I think we're doing original songs for Regionals."

After the short applause, both young Berrys turned to gander at the blonde behind them.

Rachel with a thankful smile.

And yourself, with a snappy comment.

"Seriously, who are you?"

---

Early the next day, before your first class, you meandered the halls, looking for one of your friends to chat with for the short time before the bell rang.

And that's exactly what you found.

Only, they didn't look how you expected.

"Oh, what the hell happened to you two?" you asked the two ex-cheerleaders, whose clothes were caked in soil, mouths also coated in the stuff, looking as if they had been eating it.

"Sue put dirt in our lockers," Santana explained as Brittany spat the stuff from her mouth, trying to pluck it away with her just-as-covered fingers. Her statement made your eyes drag behind them to where their lockers sat, filled with dirt.

"That's insane. Why'd she do it?"

"She's still pissed at us for not going to the Cheerios Nationals and the fact that she's not a cheer coach anymore."

"She is the prettiest person I have ever met, and I live with my sister." Gesturing them towards you, you said, "Okay, let's uh... let's get you two a change of clothes. Unless you wanna look like you just dug yourselves out of shallow graves."

Hours later, you had escorted the -now changed- girls into the choir room, dispersing throughout. A lot of club members with open notepads on their laps and pens in hand, just waiting for the director to enter the room so that they could start their lesson.

With a tall stack of yellow books in his arms, the man said, "All right, guys, let's hear it for our first songwriting seminar."

You still thought it was a bad idea, but you had decided to go with it nonetheless. It's better for you to try and fail than to not try at all.

"While Quinn and Rachel are hard at work, we're gonna try to write an anthem of our own," Mr Schue told, as he handed out the thick books, "Now, these are rhyming dictionaries for all of you."

"Mr Schue, Tina, and I have been uh already working on a song that I wrote," Santana offered.

"Really? That's amazing. Well, can we hear it?"

The Latina gave a small nod before moving to stand in the centre of the room, Tina making her way to the heys of the piano.

"This is a song that I wrote for Am. It's called 'Trouty Mouth'."

The blonde boy's sweet smile fell at that.

"Wait. What's it called?"

Only for Mike to lean over and whisper, "'Trouty Mouth'."

You didn't know a song could make you this happy.

Every one of Santana's lyrics was better than the last.

That was until Sam had to go and ruin it for you.

"Okay, can we stop?" he asked, outraged, as he jumped to his feet, "Stop with the mouth jokes."

"No, no, no!" you whined, aghast, once the music was abruptly cut off.

"Sit down. I'm not finished."

"Yes, you are." The boy then turned to the seated teacher, "Mr Schue, we're not doing a song at Regionals called 'Trouty Mouth'."

The man stuttered, rising from his own seat as he gestured to the blonde, "You know what? I have to agree with Sam on this one."

"Oh, I disagree." You shook your head with a bright smile tugging at your lips. "'Trouty Mouth' has got to be an iconic anthem. Really a song for generations."

"Y/N," Mr Schuester scolded you before turning back to Santana, "But such a good first effort. I just don't think it's got the epic feel we need for Regionals."

"I do." Your hand shot into the air, playfully being shoved by Sam as he manoeuvred back to his seat.

It seems Santana wasn't the only eager participant in the room, as Puckerman soon voiced his own involvement with a raise of his hand.

"Mr Schue, I wrote a song too. I wrote it for Lauren." The girl looked away awkwardly at that, spurring the boy into manoeuvering further into her line of sight. "I know that when I sang 'Fat Bottomed Girls', it might have hurt your feelings a little bit, but... I think this makes up for it." The delinquent continued down to replace a disgruntled Santana. It's got a bit of a rockabilly feel, so it could give us an edge this weekend."

"I'm inclined to agree with you there," you admitted as your teacher nodded the boy on.

"All right. Show us what you've got."

You couldn't help but laugh as Santana walked by Mr Schue, muttering to the man, "Don't touch me. Don't touch me."

"It's called 'Big Ass... Heart'."

"Why was that good?" you asked once the boy's short performance was over, "Stop making things that I like."

Mr Schuester, it seems, didn't share your same opinions, 'cause as soon as he could, he popped up out of his seat, hoping to get the boy off of the floor.

"All right, guys, let's make Puck's song a contender, but I don't totally think we're there yet. Everyone look at your rhyming dictionaries, and let's work on banging out some songs that rock."

---

"I have to talk with you."

With a short yell, you startled back, slamming your locker door in reaction. Snapping your head to the side, you spotted your sister, an almost conspiring look upon her features.

"Hey. Why do you always have to scare me? How was your songwriting session with blondie?" you asked, beginning to make your way down the hall, forcing a trailing Rachel to jog to catch up, to be by your side.

"It was fine. Quinn lacks my vision and years of studying lyrics and the meaning behind songs, but with some more work, I'm sure she could help me."

You rolled your eyes in reaction to her grandiose words while she quickly shook her head. "But that's not what I want to talk to you about."

"Aha. And what's on your mind?"

"I think Finn is dating Quinn again."

A familiar weight sunk in your chest. Cold and heavy. Something close to hopeless despair.

But you couldn't let your sister know that.

And you couldn't tell her that you knew they had been fooling around, even with no proof of that fact, considering she had flat-out believed Quinn's lie in the last celibacy club session you had attended. It would destroy her, and even though you knew you should tell her the truth, it would be the right thing to do, but you just didn't want to see her hurt.

"What makes you say that?"

"They were talking, and they were really close."

You gasped sarcastically, "I'll call the Pope!"

"Y/N, would you take this seriously?"

"And why the hell should I do that?" you asked, talking with a hand whilst the other held onto the strap of your backpack, "They were just taking, Rach. They can do that."

"Yeah, but it seemed... different."

"'Different' how?"

"Like they were talking about their relationship."

"And how does that look?" you almost laughed, "Look, Rach, at the end of the day, it's none of our business what they were talking about, no matter if he's your ex or not- If anything, you have less of a right to know."

Before she could reply, you were literally saved by the bell ringing overhead, signalling the start of your next class.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb. "I have to go get a 'C+' on my calculus homework... with any luck," you finished to yourself as you walked away from her,

Thoughts of Quinn and Finn swam through your mind as that sinking feeling continued to grow.

---

It was a relief when Mercedes pulled you away from the rhyming dictionary before you with the incredible song she wrote and performed for everyone in the choir room.

"Yeah. Mercedes," Mr Schuester applauded with the club, speaking over everyone's cheers, "Really, really good."

"Thank you." The girl beamed.

"But, um..."

Mercedes' smile dropped at that.

"'But' my butt, Mr Schue. That song was amazing." She pointed a finger in the man's face as to get her point across.

"No, I agree. I'm just not sure that it's Regionals material."

The girl sighed softly, making her way over to the seats.

"Mr Schue, I wrote another verse of 'Trouty Mouth'," Santana voiced, bringing the attention to her, spurring Sam to raise the sign he had scribbled onto his notepad in support of Mercedes' song, reading 'hell no'.

Nodding along with the Latina from your seat beside her at the piano, you said, "I helped."

"No, no, no. Guys- Guys, just think about it. What's your favourite song of all time?"

"'My Headband'," Brittany spoke instantly.

"I'll let Rachel know that one person likes the song she's been torturing me with for weeks now."

"Allina Morissette's 'You Oughta Know'," Santana offered next.

Puckerman was Next. "'What's going on', Marvin Gaye."

"Puckerman, you're on a roll." Zizes complimented from where she stood, leaning against the side of the piano closest to you.

Taking the time to think on it while Santana and Puck had offered their favourite songs, you wracked your brain to find one of the songs that you loved.

"'Piano Man' by Billy Joel." You nodded, playing with the pen between your fingers.

"Okay, and what are all those songs about?" the teacher questioned.

"Headbands?" Brittany shrugged behind him.

Deciding to ignore the dirty blonde's answer, the man continued, "All these songs come from a place of pain. Look, the greatest songs are about hurt. And that's the side of yourself I want you to get in touch with."

"That should be easy," Artie stated, "Coach Sylvester tortures us for no reason and tries to get the entire school to hate us."

"Not that they didn't already." You shrugged. "At this point, it's just beating a dead horse with a stick."

"Yesterday, she filled Britt's and my lockers with dirt."

Mr Schuester rushed up to the whiteboard to begin listing Sue Sylvester's verbal abuse to the club.

"Okay, okay. Slow down."

"Literally no one else was talking," you uttered.

Mercedes voiced her own complaint about the blonde coach next, "Well, she literally throws sticks at me."

"Okay, what else? What else?"

"She called the Ohio Secretary of State saying she was me and that I wanna legally change my name to Tina Cohen-Loser."

You couldn't help but snort at that as everyone looked on in shock.

"She...?"

"Mean. Mean."

"I'm sorry," you told the girl, "I just wasn't expecting that."

"Okay, and how does that make you feel?"

"That she shouldn't be around children."

Fin had something else to say, however.

"Well... at first it hurts, but... then it mostly makes you wanna win."

"Guys..." the teacher smiled. "I think you may have just found your song."

"And that song is 'Trouty Mouth'." You pointed.

"No!" Mr Schue and Sam called out at the same time. Disappointing both you and the Latina who created the song.

"Now let's get to writing," the curly-haired man psyched everyone up as the title 'Loser Like Me' sat on the board behind him.

With a deep, grunted sigh, you dropped your head onto Santana's shoulder, preparing yourself for the only lesson to go.

By the end of the Glee Club meeting, your brain was fried by the number of words that ran through it. You were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to string together a sentence if your life depended on it.

To come to your sister's aid, however? That was a whole other thing entirely.

It was the end of the school day, and you knew Rachel would be working overtime on her songwriting, dragging Quinn along with her.

And considering you would rather not have a murdered sister, you were on your way to the auditorium, fully intent on dragging her kicking and screaming from the school if you had to. 'Cause, there was no way in hell that you were coming back to pick her up.

Only, you didn't have to do anything of the sort.

You were stunned in place just before you could reach the backstage door of the auditorium when your sister strode out, tears spilling from her eyes, trying to keep her sobs at bay.

"I'll be waiting in the car," she whimpered, rushing past you, trying to get out of the school as quick as possible but knowing that you weren't about to let her state slide.

So, as you watched her leave down the hall, your face grew hard, anger boiling up within you, face turning into a snarl as you span on your heel, slammed the door open, and strode over to where the blonde was sitting at the piano on the stage.

"Hey, what the hell did you say to her?!" you asked, pointing behind you.

Quinn sniffed, blinking back the wetness building up in her red eyes.

Maybe if you weren't so angry at her, you would have noticed apparent distress of her own.

"I just gave her a dose of reality," she said primly, straightening out the papers scattered along the grand piano.

"Reality that makes her cry?"

"Life sucks, sometimes, Y/N," she snapped, "She needs to get used to it- The rest of us have."

You scoffed at that, shaking your head in reaction.

"You know, though last year you were pregnant and had all of those demon hormones, so that if I said, "Hey, I don't like this flavour of gum," you would go into an eternal rage. But at least you weren't such a heinous bitch all the time!"

The blonde was gobsmacked by your sudden snapped reaction, gasping and pointing to her chest as she repeated your words, in offence, "You think I'm a heinous bitch?"

"Oh no, I know you are!"

"And what?" she challenged, "You want me to go back to being that sad, pregnant girl? Just so that you will like me?"

"No." You shook your head, obviously. "I want you to go back to that girl who cared about people other than herself."

"You think I don't care?"

"Do you call this caring?!" you argued, gesturing to the space around you wildly, "Really? So, what was this "dose of reality" you gave her that you consider caring?" you asked, utilising air quotes as you did.

"I told her that she didn't belong here, in this town. She was going to get out of here, and I was just sending her on her way." She almost sneered, confusing you, as you thought she had insulted your sister and not told her exactly what she wanted to hear. "That I was going to get married to Finn and start a family, he was going to get Burt's tire shop, and I would become a successful real estate agent, and she-" Quinn had to take in a sharp breath to gear herself up for what she was about to say. "She knows that she's going to get everything she has ever dreamed of... just not the boy she loved in high school."

The blonde had a hard time reading you as you stood there, silently evaluating her.

"Is that really what you think of yourself?" you asked finally, confusing her.

"What?"

"You think you're gonna be stuck here for the rest of your life?"

"That's my dose of reality. I've gotten used to it."

Suddenly, your dwindling anger spurred back to life.

"After- After everything I told you, you still believe that?"

"What do you mean?"

"How many times have I told you you can do anything, Quinn Fabray?" you stepped up to her now, unknowingly mirroring her and Rachel's positions from only minutes ago, only flipped in your favour.

But still, the girl was stubborn. Looking up at you with a hard pour, not backing down.

"You're amazing, and you don't fucking see it. You once told me that you wanted to help change the word, make it a better place-"

"That was just a silly dream!" She yelled, flinging her arms out by her sides.

"No, it's not! It's not silly, and it's less a dream and more of a plan. Being a real estate agent is all well and good, but you are destined for far better things- Greater things."

It was only then that you noticed the hopeless look in her eyes, the way they shone with tears, reddened and burning as she fought them off tooth and nail.

"Quinn," you breathed, "Is... is this about-?"

"Don't." She sneered. "Just... just don't, Y/N. I don't want to hear this right now."

She turned, trying to walk away before you could confront her truth when it was too hard for her to do so herself.

"You don't need to hide yourself like this."

"What do you know?!" she yelled, spinning back to face you, tears fully built up in her eyes, but still, none fell, as she stormed back over to you, "You've never had to do it! You've never had to be someone you're not. You're lucky enough to have a family that accepted you the second you were born. Not only that, but your parents relate to you on that!"

"Yeah, you're right." You nodded after a few moments of silence. "I don't understand exactly what you're going through. But I do know that you don't have to throw yourself into a life you truly don't want just because you're too scared to be you. Look, I'm not telling you to come out or lead the fucking pride parade. That's up to you. It's your choice. You can still live the life you want without doing all that. Don't throw your dreams away because you're scared of how other people will perceive you."

And with that, you left the blonde alone to her thoughts, heading off to comfort your crying sister as best you could.

You couldn't get anything out of her during the whole car ride back home, which was abnormal for her when she was in a state such as ones like this.

Even when you arrived home, Rachel rushed straight up to her pastel yellow room, leaving you to watch from her doorway as she cried and scribbled lyrics onto her notepad, surrounded by multiple drafts crumpled up around her.

With a deep sigh and a droop of your shoulders, you knew there was nothing you could do to help her at that moment. She didn't want any help nor did she want comfort, so there was no likelihood that she would accept it.

Stepping foot into your own room, your eyes travelled to where your own pad of paper sat at your desk, infesting your brain with thoughts of writing your own song.

Shaking your head, you quickly decided, "absolutely not." Instead, you pulled out your textbook to work on your homework, your brain was broken enough from songwriting today, and you needed to finish your history for tomorrow. Even if you wanted to lay down and nap for the next four hours.

---

The next few days passed in a blur and yet dwindled along slowly, at the same time, mainly when you and your sister had to be around the blonde and her boyfriend.

But the day had finally arrived.

Regionals.

You had to admit that you weren't that hopeful, with your songs being original and all that, but you were still gonna give it your all. If not for yourself or your team, but for your sister.

As usual, your club was late arriving at the competition, so as the announcer introduced the first competitors over the PA, you scooted your way through the rows to your designated seats.

"-Let's have a warm welcome for Aural Intensity!"

"Still sounds like a stupid term for going down on someone," you mumbled over to Mike, who had to stifle his laugh into his shoulder.

The expression you wore was one of disgusted astonishment, watching Sue's clear attempt at pandering to the judges, which only further grew with the cheering crowd.

You just hoped that Kurt and the Warbler's performance was far better than what you were just forced to sit through.

That hope was quickly proved true, as to your utter surprise, your friend began the setlist for his Glee Club, which made you beam out of pure happiness for this chance for him to shine in front of an audience.

Both Berry's in the crowd found their eyes trailing over to the couple that was Quinn and Finn, noticing the way that their hands were linked. Rachel and yourself yearning for opposite people in said couple. How two people could captivate a pair of siblings and be together like it was nothing, effortlessly crushing both Berry's hearts, was beyond you. It just seemed like a sick joke the world was playing.

Tearing your eyes away from them, you focused back on your friend and his boyfriend.

You suppose that is why he didn't let you know that he would be singing front and centre for this competition. He was far too excited to gush about the boy he had been harbouring feelings for, for months now, who had become his boyfriend. And not only that, he had had his first real kiss, that wasn't with Brittany. Or, unknowingly to you, taking from him by Karofsky.

After their duet and Blane's rendition of 'Raise Your Glass', that got the whole crowd jumping on their feet, it was the New Direction's turn to perform.

Walking through the backstage area with Santana by your side, you overheard Finn talking to your sister.

"I really like your song."

"It sure is better than 'My Headband'." You threw over your shoulder, gaining a soft glare from Rachel before she swiftly turned back to talk to her ex-boyfriend.

"I still think I should have sung 'Trouty Mouth' as the solo."

Breathing out a laugh, you threw your arm over the girl's shoulder. "Oh, I agree with you there."

From across the way, almost as if his ears had been attuned to the two words so that he would be able to hear them strung together within a five-mile radius, Sam yelled, "Stop talking about 'Trouty Mouth'!" Harbouring laughs from the club in reaction.

"And now, from William McKinley High in Lima, Ohio, the New Directions!"

You were by Finn's side during the entirety of your sister's performance, arms folded across your chest, all the while he listened to the lyrics intently, with an awestruck look on his face.

"She was crying while she wrote this."

"Why?" he breathed back as if speaking any louder would disrupt the performance. Unable to take his eyes off of his singing ex.

You could have told him about her and Quinn's argument, but you thought it best to give him the whole, blaring, obvious truth.

"Because she's still in the love with you."

His breath shortened then, while you glanced behind him, spotting his girlfriend, who had obviously heard your statement, staring into your soul with a look you couldn't quite decipher. She was frustrated and annoyed you could tell that much, even though she hid it well. But there was also a hopelessness and longing emitted from her.

But there wasn't long for you to dwell on it, as a few moments later, she and the rest of the girls were marching out. Followed by the boys and yourself after Rachel had introduced your team. Which quickly lead into your next and final song for the competition.

You were glad that it wasn't another slow number, where you had to be careful and intricate with your dance moves, but instead was one where you could end it off by dousing the audience with shiny red confetti, masquerading in slushie cups along with a cart. A reference, which only people who knew about and attended your school would know of.

After the judges had taken a short amount of time in their deliberation, the three Glee Clubs and their directors were gathered on stage to hear the results of the competition.

"And now, to announce our winner, Lieutenant Governor Stevens' wife, Carla Turlington Stevens."

"Who are these random-ass people they get for these things?" you whispered, once again to Mike, as you joined everyone else to applaud for the woman.

"Do you think they would be able to get anyone else to do it?" he countered.

"Touché, I supposed not."

Once the woman took the stage, she felt that to be the ideal time to get her troubles off of her chest.

"My husband is verbally abusive, and I have been drinking since noon." Feedback from the microphone was the only thing that filled the awkward silence her confession had garnered. "I'm bored. Let's just see who won, huh?" Suspense filled the three hopeful teams as the drunk woman opened the first-place envelope. "The New Directions, you're going to Nationals in New York."

The celebrations with your team were cut short, thanks to Sue Sylvester's outburst, where she strode up to the Governor's wife and knocked her out cold.

Talk about being a sore loser.

---

You were sat beside your sister when Mr Schuester walked into the choir room, carrying a small trophy, busy talking on the phone.

"I'll show you the video when you get home. Have fun at the sweat lodge." You cringed at the next words he cooed down the line, trying -and failing- to hide it from his students. "Namaste to you too. Okay, bye."

Leaning closer to Rachel you muttered, "She could do so much better than him." Knowing that he and Holly Holliday had been seeing each other since she came in to teach everyone about sex, because they were so bad at hiding it.

Only she wasn't the only person who had heard your comment.

Quinn Fabray, who was seated in front of your sister, peered at you from the corner of her eye, a ghost of a smile shadowing her lips. Sending a hopeful rush through you, even though your mind was screaming at you that it was worthless to even feel.

"Miss Holliday sends her best," he turned to tell the team, "And can't wait to congratulate you all in person when she gets back from her meditation retreat. Now, we all know that winning Regionals was a team effort, and Nationals isn't going to be any different. But... like in sports, every winning team has a player that rises above to help carry their teammates to victory. The M.V.P.." He pointed before bringing the gold star trophy into view. "And I would like to start a tradition of honouring that player after every one of our competitions. So, per a unanimous vote by all of you... our Regionals M.V.P. is... Miss Rachel Berry."

The club applauded for your sister as the director waved her down to accept her award.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." She beamed. "If I could just say a few words?"

"Sure."

"And here she goes, making me regret voting for her," Santana said dryly.

"Same." You nodded, smiling down at Rachel playfully. Please don't start singing."

She rolled her brown eyes at you.

"Well, first of all, I just wanna say how amazing the song you guys wrote was. I-I was so inspired. You know, it's funny. I've won a lot of trophies before for singing competitions, and dancing competitions but... I've always felt like the girl who never gets the brass ring... and maybe I never will." She shrugged. "But today a-and at Regionals... the way you guys believed in me and... took a chance with me... all I've ever wanted was to feel special... and to feel chosen. And... I just, um... I wanted to thank you guys so much for giving me that. So, that's all."

After your sister's tearful speech, you lead the charge in giving her a hug, a proud look on your face, at her -not arrogant- speech.

So maybe doing original songs wasn't the worst idea ever.

You still thought it was pretty dumb, though.

However, there was no way you were gonna let Rachel know that anytime soon.

After all, you were far too excited for one thing and one thing alone.

New York City.

-----

Prev Part | Next Part

[rwshfordgirl]

YO NO SOY CELOSO

all images were taken from pinterest.

request: Hola! I LOVED what you wrote for ansu so i was thinking if you could write something about him being jealous (? of a plushie you hug when you sleep maybe?

pairing: ansu fati × reader

a/n: i apologize for the delay and i hope you like it! bad bunny's new album reminded me of un verano sin ti and that's why we have that title lol

requests are open | check here my masterlist

"ansu, cariño! where are you?" i sent an audio message to my boyfriend who was absurdly late for the meeting we agreed to have. he probably won't even hear the audio now, most likely something happened during training and they had to extend it, but he should have just let me know, right?

i'm getting a little impatient, i admit. but the day at college was so horrible, all i wanted was to drink coffee with ansu in my favorite coffee maker, give him a thousand kisses and consequently receive affection on the head and hands from the spanish player.

ansu is so lucky not to have a girlfriend who freaks out for no reason, but i really hope he's at barcelona's training center chasing a ball. and in the meantime, i'll be heading home, i'm tired of waiting for him. 

                                    .

"baby? are you awake?" i was startled when i felt ansu's fingers touching my skin. i snorted as i rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock on the headboard. ansu arrived home two hours later than agreed. i fell asleep right after i got home and i can't believe i slept in my own bed with the clothes i left the house in.

"talk to me, love. i can't believe you preferred to sleep holding that thing instead of with me." i refused to turn to face ansu. he leaves me waiting for almost an hour at the coffee shop and when he finds me the first thing he talks about is the teddy bear that always sleeps with me when he is not here. if i turn my face towards him i will definitely curse him.

"i spent hours training and when i come home i have to see you holding onto him." I took a deep breath, i wanted ansu to stop talking. "today's training must have been horrible." i said after getting out of bed. ansu followed my movement, but his expression was like someone who didn't understand what was going on. "you stood me up and when you got home, instead of apologizing, you decided to be jealous of my teddy bear."

ansu was standing in front of me and it was his turn to take a deep breath. "i'm sorry my love, i don't know what was going on with my head." he came closer with the intention of kissing me but i took a step back. "is that it? why didn't you tell me you were going to be late?" i crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows "the coach asked us to stay late today and collected all the cell phones as soon as we arrived at the training center." he said as he sat down and put his hands on his head "but besides that i forgot about our meeting, i'm sorry love, it wasn't my intention." 

i rolled my eyes. i imagined that this would have happened, from what ansu and the other boys say, the training has been very demanding and they have been pressured to get the same results as at the beginning of the season. and he forgot about the meeting, how could he? and even worse, he got pissed and jealous when he saw her hugging the teddy bear. really, the training in barcelona is messing with him.

"it's okay ansu, this time you're forgiven." i said as i approached him, placing his hands around my waist "but what about the bear? were you jealous of the teddy bear?" he laughed awkwardly as he rested his head on my belly. "firstly, yo no soy celoso! i just wish it was me you were hugging." i bent down a little to be able to give kisses on the top of his head "i get it, kitty! i'll pretend to believe you. lucky for you, i'm also needy today."

[hislittleraincloud]

Emma was raised in a conservative family in Florida. There's a reason she's never came out & supported the movement. None of us had a problem with wenclair when they just kept it on screen, it's when they now try to force it on J & E in real life esp since E literally said stop shipping her with Jenna. They've become toxic, annoying, & anyone that walks or breathes near J & E they immediately go into the attack. That's why wenclair is hated. They're like a cult.

They're the MAGA of the fandom, stuck on their delus.

Ortega was raised in an observably conservative family, too (I wouldn't say this if there weren't ✝️ on their walls). There are a lot of idiot Latines for Trump. I just now noticed that the fkn Mexican (I'm a fkn Mexican too, don't take that for anything but my ire at her choices) who sold me my baby/the puppy was posting pro-Trump fuckery on her Facebook just before the election. If you're Latine there's probably a 100% chance you know someone like this unless you isolate yourself from the community entirely, and while not all Christian Latines are conservative, only about a quarter of the Latino/Hispanic Catholics identify as liberal. I have the conservative type in my fucking family/my father already cut them off for being Trump supporters.

He (the Spanish-Mexican/Greek/multi-combo scientist/artist) sent a long anti-Trump screed to our Texican Trump-humping cousins during the pandemic. He may have been fucked up at times, but once in a while he's rational (he was almost 80 and now he's 82, still hating Trump/the right/Republicans). My father grew up in a conservative Roman Catholic household. His family wasn't atypical. But he grew out of the religion thing fairly quickly and was resistant to it in the first place (I guess it's genetics for us to be born stubborn atheistic skeptics).

I suppose that circles us back around to Gizmo, doesn't it. She doesn't bother to own what she wrote in her book while at the same time complaining about political correctness and wanting people to be able to say what's on their minds. You know who latched onto that soundbyte, who that truly resonated with? Conservatives, because only conservatives complain about political correctness.

But she's not a conservative. She's def a leftie/liberal and non-MAGA, but the indoctrination into a religion that shackles you with guilt is rough sometimes (as we've seen lately). She should man up and either own or disavow what she wrote in her book, the book that is currently

#69 in Teen & Young Adult Christian Inspirational

Download this

You're damn right my first q to her would be "The book that you wrote just a few years ago sits at number 69 on the Teen & YA Christian Inspirational list on Amazon. What more do you have to say to those Christian teens, or any teens, who read your book, now that you have the life-changing success of Wednesday under your belt. How has the faith that you described in your book guided you in your decisions since?"

Holy shit, I think I just found the best emoji combo for this and I wasn't even trying.

Ghostie got good tongue action there.

Yeah...eat that taco.

Anyway, there are Catholics who are liberal, and of those who are, nearly half of them are Latino (with slightly more women being liberal than men, ofc). It's entirely possible that's what the kid is growing into, which is better than all-out religious conservativism I guess. Me, I'm just content w my Fast Pass to Hell. 🫠🔥

Ah that's right, this was supposed to be more bitching about Wenclair...sorry, "cult" caught my active brain cell, so I went off.

Eh. Myers should just snap before someone gets caught on hot mic admitting Wenclair will never happen and be brave enough to tell us that it won't happen since she seems pretty uncomfortable (on sight) when it's brought up.

It's also really weird to watch a slew of kids with such levels of ✨brain rot✨ over a fabricated/non-canon romantic ship. Like I might've mentioned, it's the fans that make the ship insufferable. I don't hate romantic "Wenclair" but when the fan reasonings are roommates and rainbows....

Is this what an example of "hate the sinner, love the sin" [sic] is?

[wikiangela]

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

so I wrote a lil something after 6x18, not sure if it makes sense at all - just a bit of Buck not being able to share his life with the Diazes with Natalia, and some feelings realization hah (also kinda emotional cheating? lol idk)

words: 2.9k

[read on Ao3]

“I’m at your door and no one’s answering.” she adds, and for some reason, he feels extremely guilty, as if he was doing something horrible and shady, and that she can’t know. “Uh, did we have plans?” he asks, frowning, peeking into the kitchen, where he sees Eddie throw a kitchen towel at Chris, who’s laughing loudly, probably after another joke. He can’t help a smile. “No, I just wanted to see you. But it’s fine, it’s my fault for coming over announced.” she laughs. “When will you be home?”  “Uh, I-” he’s already home, right now. There’s no place on earth that feels more like home than Eddie’s house. But he can’t say that. “I might not be back tonight.” he admits, distracted by a loud thud, and he peeks into the kitchen again, to see Eddie crouch down, picking something up.  “Buck!” Chris calls. “Come back before dad destroys the kitchen!” OR, Buck spends time with Eddie and Chris, and for some reason finds himself incapable of telling Natalia, which leads to some realizations.

____

The kitchen is filled with sounds of conversations and laughter, and music in Spanish that Eddie tries to sing along to, but he’s very off-key, and doesn't know all the lyrics, which in turn causes Buck and Chris to make fun of him. Eddie clearly sees how much fun they’re having, how much Chris is enjoying it, and continues to be a huge dork, goofily dancing around and singing, just for his entertainment. They all cook dinner together, like they tend to do pretty often nowadays, each having their own specific task, assigned by Buck. Chris sits at the table, carefully cutting vegetables, while Buck and Eddie move around each other as easily and seamlessly, as they do at work, knowing what the other one wants or needs without even saying a word. And whenever they pass each other, Eddie makes sure to touch Buck in some way, his shoulder, his forearm, the small of his back – and Buck feels hot, breath hitching each time, and he tries to ignore the way it makes him crave more.

Right now, Buck and Chris are laughing, as Eddie uses a salt shaker, that he was just about to use, as a microphone, almost yelling the lyrics, looking between Buck and his son, and Christopher covers his face in embarrassment.

“I can’t believe how lame my dad is.” Chris tells Buck, but Eddie obviously hears it, as he starts laughing as well. And Buck, well, he doesn’t think it’s lame. It’s dorky and cute. And he can’t help a fond smile that forces itself onto his face as he watches Eddie. He rarely gets to see him just be silly and goofy. It’s a very recent thing, but he’s clearly felt more free to just let go and have fun, and it’s amazing to see. 

“And I can’t believe how he got such a cool kid.” Buck shakes his head, obligated to join in on the teasing. Chris looks at him with a grin.

“My mom was pretty cool.” he says, and Buck can see Eddie falter for a moment, a soft smile on his face. They’ve been mentioning Shannon more freely now, too, and Buck learned more about her in the last few weeks than in all the years they’ve known each other. That’s pretty awesome, too, to see Eddie heal and move on. He even actually asked someone out and went on a couple of dates, and Buck ignores how thinking about it makes him feel, but then he just told Buck it didn’t work out, no details. Buck didn’t ask.

“I bet she was. Because I’m sure you didn’t get all your coolness from… that.” he comments gesturing towards Eddie, who gives him the middle finger with a laugh. Buck sticks out his tongue in response.

“You guys don’t know how to have fun.” Eddie comments, turning back to where he’s seasoning the meat, still slightly swaying his hips in rhythm with the music, and Buck tries very hard to look away.

“Look who’s talking! We have fun!” Buck exclaims, but before he can add anything else, his phone rings, and he fishes it out of his pocket and checks who’s calling. He feels… slightly less happy than he just was, and he really doesn’t want to. He wants to get excited at seeing Natalia’s name on the screen. He wants to feel butterflies in his stomach, and his cheeks warming up, and heart racing just at the thought of hearing her voice. He knows that feeling very well, and he doesn’t want to think about who makes him feel like that. But she’s his girlfriend now, they’re dating, so he should answer… he wants to answer, he’s happy to hear from her, of course. “Hey, I’ll be right back, make sure nothing burns.” he says to Eddie, pointing to the pan, where a part of their dinner is already frying, then turns to Chris and adds, “Keep an eye on him.” Christopher nods with a laugh.

Buck exits the kitchen, stopping just outside the door, and is still able to hear the music and laughter, and Chris’ comments, as he teases Eddie about using too much spice – which turns into a dig at Buck, but he’ll let it slide.

Buck reluctantly answers the call, trying to convince himself he’s excited and happy, and not regretting anything, and that the thrill of a new relationship hasn’t worn off before it even started. The thing is, he does genuinely like her, and he really wants this… but he feels like his heart isn’t his to give anymore, and the person holding it has no idea he has it. Buck doesn't even want to admit to himself who he accidentally gave it to.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks when the call connects.

“Hey, where are you?” her melodic voice sounds in his ear. It’s nice, he likes her voice. He likes her. She’s great, and kind, and understanding, and… he really wishes he could fall for her, it’d make everything so much easier. “I’m at your door and no one’s answering.” she adds, and for some reason, he feels extremely guilty, as if he was doing something horrible and shady, and that she can’t know.

“Uh, did we have plans?” he asks, frowning, peeking into the kitchen, where he sees Eddie throw a kitchen towel at Chris, who’s laughing loudly, probably after another joke. He can’t help a smile.

“No, I just wanted to see you. But it’s fine, it’s my fault for coming over announced.” she laughs. “When will you be home?” 

“Uh, I-” He’s already home, right now. There’s no place on earth that feels more like home than Eddie’s house. But he can’t say that. “I might not be back tonight.” he admits, distracted by a loud thud, and he peeks into the kitchen again, to see Eddie crouch down, picking something up. 

“Buck!” Chris calls. “Come back before dad destroys the kitchen!”

“It’s fine, it’s just a plate, it happens-” Eddie starts saying, standing up with the shards, cheeks pink. Buck has the urge to go over there, take the broken pieces out of his hands and make sure he didn’t hurt himself. Which is ridiculous, Eddie’s a grown man and a medic, he’d be fine if he did hurt himself. 

“What do you mean? Where are you?” Natalia asks. “Buck.” And Buck realizes she’s been asking him this for a while, but he tuned it out.

“Uh, nothing, I’m just-” he stops, seeing Eddie walk over to him, or, to the trash can that’s right next to the door right now, since the kitchen is such a mess, everything’s out of place. But it’s their mess, that they’ll clean up together, as always, and have fun while doing it. Those domestic evenings with Eddie and Chris are Buck’s favorite thing that he always looks forward to the most.

“Who’s that?” Eddie asks curiously when he’s next to him, gesturing to the phone. He’s still holding his phone to his ear, and Natalia’s asking questions, but all he can focus on are Eddie’s warm eyes on his.

“No one.” Buck responds and is about to hang up, but then remembers he has to say goodbye to the woman he’s dating now. “I’ll just be a sec.” and he disappears behind the door again.

“No one?” Natalia asks, confused and a little hurt, clearly having heard Eddie’s question. “Buck, what’s going on? Where are you?”

“I’m-”

“Buck, something’s burning!” he hears Christopher yell.

“Shit, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” and he hangs up the phone, cutting off whatever she was saying. And… it’s shitty. He’s acting shitty. He’s the worst boyfriend. Natalia deserves so much better, she deserves someone who can appreciate how awesome she is. Someone who won’t pretend and lie.

And the thing is, he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell her where he is. It’s not like it’s a big deal, he’s just hanging out with his best friend and that friend’s kid – or, actually, his best friend and that friend’s dad. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s normal, it’s nothing to hide, no big deal. Except… except it’s Eddie, and it does feel like a big deal, with Buck feeling like he does around him. He feels guilty. And you shouldn’t feel guilty and try to hide from your girlfriend that you hang out with your best friend, right? Buck’s spiraling, and he feels so guilty, as if he at least cheated- he feels more guilty than when he kissed Lucy and basically cheated on Taylor. It’s weird, he shouldn’t feel this way, because he’s not doing anything wrong right now… He feels like he is, though. Shit.

Besides, what’s even worse, is that whenever he’s with Natalia, all he thinks about is Eddie, and then he feels even more guilty – but that guilt doesn’t disappear as soon as he looks into her eyes, like it does with Eddie. He feels guilty when he’s with his girlfriend, and it’s for literally no fucking reason. Because Eddie is not his, and he’s not Eddie’s, and that’s just how it is. Maybe he wants it to change… He needs to sort it out somehow, because, well, he can’t live like this, endlessly riddled with guilt.

He runs into the kitchen to see Eddie take the a-bit-too-well-cooked meat off the pan, and put in another two pieces he just seasoned.

“Crisis averted, we’re good.” he says, grinning at Buck, and Buck’s heart immediately settles from panicked racing into calm and steady rhythm. Even just the sight of Eddie makes him feel at peace. He never wants to leave here. He never wants to be apart from his kid and his Eddie- well, from Eddie’s kid and his Eddie. Though, at least in his head, he likes referring to Chris as his. Because he loves him so much, as if he was actually his. But that’s not… it’s not true, and he doesn’t want to overstep. But it’s not like Eddie can read his mind.

And maybe that’s another thing. Maybe he’s worried that Natalia will freak out again, because it’s no secret that he and Eddie are really close, maybe closer than regular friends should be. They’re basically raising a kid together, and she was already freaked out when she found out Buck was just a donor. And it’s not like he’s Chris’ dad, as much as he’d love to be. There’s nothing to freak out about. Except, why can’t he just tell her?

They settle back into their routine, and later, as they’re both at the sink, cleaning up, while the dinner is just about to finish cooking, and Chris has gone to the living room, Eddie's arm brushing against Buck’s, Eddie says quietly:

“You know you don’t have to hide your girlfriend from us, right?” he sounds amused, but there’s also a tinge of something else, suspiciously similar to hurt. “You can, you know, invite her here for dinner sometime.” he shrugs, but he seems suddenly tense.

“Uh-” Buck hesitates. He knows he should, but he really doesn’t want those two aspects of his life to collide. He’s not sure how he imagines it looking in the future, if things with Natalia turn serious… but they probably won’t.  “Sure, I, um, maybe?”

Eddie gives him a confused look and laughs.

“Or are you hiding us from your girlfriend? Come on, we’re not that embarrassing.” he teases.

“I don’t know, Chris might not be, but you…” Buck jokes, but he feels something heavy sitting on his chest and almost not letting him breathe. It only loosens when he looks into Eddie’s eyes, and their hands brush when Eddie hands him a bowl to dry. Eddie smiles that wonderful smile, and there’s so much fondness and, maybe, possibly, love in his eyes…

“Shut up.” Eddie laughs again, and this, this is the most wonderful sound, that Buck never wants to end. Then Eddie starts quietly singing along to whatever song’s playing now, and Buck is just so enamored… He could stand here and watch Eddie be so carefree and silly for the rest of time. He’s so beautiful, and cute, and just his presence is enough for Buck to feel comfortable and at ease, and so happy. He brought Buck’s heart back to life, metaphorically and literally, and then took it and never gave it back. Buck doesn’t want it back. Oh, shit. He thinks… he thinks he’s in love with Eddie. It’s the first time he allows himself to acknowledge it, and somehow, it feels like the rightest thing in the world. He’s never felt this certain and content about anything. He loves Eddie so much, and it might kill him if he never does anything about it. And timing really is a bitch, because how is he having this realization right after starting a new relationship with a wonderful woman, who definitely deserves so much better?

Buck can’t stop staring at Eddie, wide eyes, as all his thoughts overwhelm him a bit, and he doesn’t notice when he tries to hand him a washed cutting board. He only comes back to himself when Eddie gives him a funny look. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, of course, I’m fine.” he chuckles nervously, and takes the board, dries it, and puts it in the right spot, not even wondering where it should go, because he knows this kitchen like the back of his hand. This is his home. This is where he’s supposed to be. And now that he acknowledged it, he doesn’t think he can go back to pretending. “I’m not fine.” he admits, going over to check on their dinner, turning the stove off when he sees it’s ready.

“What’s going on?” Eddie asks cautiously and worriedly, turning the water off and Buck can see out of the corner of his eye Eddie drying his hands. Buck shakes his head. “Buck, hey, talk to me, please.” he takes a few steps towards Buck.

“I think I fucked up.” he takes a deep breath, feeling panic rise in his chest. But then he looks at Eddie, with his concerned and loving eyes, and everything settles. Maybe he can have this. Maybe it’s possible. Maybe not. In any case, it’s not fair to himself, and especially not fair to Natalia to string her along, when he knows damn well he can’t give all of himself to her. He can’t even share the best part of his life with her, because it’s his. They’re his. Not really, not yet, but also they are, and Buck can’t do it anymore. He needs to break up with her, let her go before he messes it up more or it gets serious and he ends up breaking her heart. And only after he breaks up with her, he can wonder if maybe Eddie feels the same, which, lately it does feel like that sometimes. But one thing at a time. “I’ll fix it, though. Don’t worry.” he smiles, and Eddie still looks worried, but doesn’t say anything. Just helps Buck plate their dinner, and goes to tell Chris that it’s ready. Buck watches them take their places at the table, chatting easily, and including Buck in conversation, making him feel like he belongs here. They eat dinner, filled with more talking and laughter, and it’s perfect. Something settles in his heart, last puzzle pieces sliding in their places, and make the picture clearer than ever.

This is Buck’s life. He wants it to be his life, the rest of his life. He wants to cook dinner together, do grocery runs, and do all the other mundane things together. He wants to come home to them after a shift, curl up with them on the couch to watch a movie, with Chris pretending he’s too big for cuddles, but eventually falling asleep on Buck’s shoulder, and go to bed wrapped in Eddie’s arms. He wants to wake up together and prepare breakfast, and tease Eddie for always burning eggs, no matter how his cooking skills improve. He wants to be able to hold his hand, and run his fingers through his soft hair, and kiss his lips. He wants to keep raising Chris together. He wants it all. 

They’re his family, this is his life, and he’s determined to keep it. He’ll fix it, he’ll fix everything, he always does. And next time they cook dinner together, he might just be a little bold and reckless and carefree, and lean in to kiss Eddie, shutting up his adorable off-key singing, and if he’s lucky, Eddie will kiss back, and Chris will make fun of them both for being gross, but he’ll be so happy. And Buck will get them forever. He’ll get it all. For the first time in a while, Buck lets himself hope. Because suddenly his biggest dream doesn’t seem all that unreachable. They’re right here at the table with him, Christopher’s telling them about his day, and Eddie’s knee is pressing into his thigh, and his eyes are sparkling and looking at Buck in that way that makes him feel hot all over, and Eddie’s smile is the brightest thing in the room. There’s a moment, just a second, before Eddie remembers that Buck’s not single, where he reaches under the table and intertwines their fingers, squeezing reassuringly. Buck feels truly alive for the first time since he died. Maybe he’s felt this way with Eddie this whole time, actually, but refused to see it. He’s not sure how he missed this, while it was right under his nose, the answer to all his questions, the thing he’s been searching for. 

His boys, his family, his heart. This is it. They are it for him. At last, he found it. Now he only needs to do everything he can to keep it.

____

Tag list (if you want to be added pls interact with this post): @idealuk @thebravebitch @this-is-moony-lovegood @greenfairrryy

[onlyplatonicirl]

henlo it is i the headcANON, here to go ramble about everyone's favourite little guy, casey. its insane to me just how much you've endeared me and many other tcoti fans to this silly fella

i can see casey going to a religious school (the only difference from a non religious school is you learn re but literally no one cares lol), most parents will try and send their kids there cause they are known for being better schools (they get more funding for extra lessons), and casey couldnt give less of a shit about it

i also think he wouldve went to an all boys school, he just sorts acts like he did lol

whilst in school my man would try and break every single dress code policy known to man, half of the time hed just show up in his pe clothes, the other time hed show up with no tie, no jacket, a coat and whatever else he could fet his hands on that he wasnt supposed to have (english schools have really strict dress codes, idk why its dumb)

he knows a small amount of spanish, in most british schools you are forced to do mfl (modern foreign languages) and its usually either french or spanish (you rarely have a choice to pick which you want to do), some will let you pick up german and even mandarin but thats usually at gcse level or as an extracurricular activity (which most kids are also forced to do). he isnt fluent in spanish, not by a long shot, but he definitely knows how to have a conversation, albeit very scripted and short. however, one thing he does understand is how to swear in spanish, and what it sounds like. i imagine him and his friends just looking it up on the laptops during class time, definitely to annoy their teacher.

so i have this image in my head that gray doesnt like swearing all that much (maybe fresh got to him lol), so he tends to swear in spanish or french because the british boy wont understand - alas he does

casey could not be arsed with most lessons because he didnt really care about getting a good education since he couldnt see all that bright of a future for himself, if one at all, but he was actually quite good at maths and history, even when he tried not to be

he has been shown on more than one occasion, undernovella, and whilst he was put off it due to it 1. being in spanish, and 2. the cast being played 99% by monsters, he actually really ended up enjoying it by the end

hes also been getting into anime and manga ("dude its like a comic book but even more brutal"), mostly shonen like one punch man and dragon ball, but he also really enjoyed sailor moon and doesnt want to admit to it, he liked the romance and friendship aspect of it, also pretty girls

he has always been into comic books, his favourite super heroes are deadpool and spiderman

before he met gray (properly), he mostly played shooter games (ones that were free or cheap), fortnite, valorant, and a pirated copy of fifa, because thats what guys play. if his past self saw his year 4 stardew valley save file, hed spontaneously combust

i think he also plays splatoon now, he mains the dualies because theyre cool, hed definitely be an inkling as well but thats an au for another day

zelda too

despite everything thats happened, he really did grow to love his last foster mum, she was a single lady and she treated him like her own son. hes had bad experiences with the foster care system in the past (breaking news: fork found in kitchen), parents only taking him in for the money, some wanting to complete their family and forcing him to live by their ideals, all that bad stuff, which is why he often ran away from them. he had run away from his last foster mum, two times before, but it was very early into their relationship before they got to understand each other better.

his last foster mum asked him what his hobbies were his first night at her house, he didnt know, so she suggested he pick up an instrument - he decided the guitar, because it looked cool. he almost cried when she offered to buy him lessons, he didnt take her up on the offer, determined to learn it by himself, and he did

he has a really nice singing voice he'll never let anyone see - hes a lyric baritone

also whilst in canon hes a brummie, i like to imagine he was born a bit further north (hes a mackem to me), and moved to birmingham to be with his most recent and last foster parent, and that he lived there for so long thats hes picked up the accent

he felt really bad leaving her but managed to convincr himself that she would be better off without someone like him in her life

casey is a very traumatised child, he has a lot of triggers and boundaries he doesnt fully understand himself, plus a boat load of unhealthy coping mechanisms (mainly smoking and socially isolating himself)

he tries to keep his bad habits a secret from gray, because he doesnt know how he would feel about it - he knows, he doesnt like it but he isnt exaclty the greatest at having healthy coping mechanisms himself, at the very least he tries to get him to swap one for another, instead of smoking play stardew valley with me for 37 hours straight :) ?

he often struggles with the idea that hes a burden, so he doesnt let people spend money on him, or give him gifts

he also struggles to express his emotions (hes british unfortunately), and has a hard time saying 'i love you' to anyone, the only person he never strugfled saying that to was his mum

bit of a trigger warning, im going to be talking about casey's injuries and all that jazz, so if you dont wanna read, head to the next bullet point! casey shouldnt be alive, the injuries he suffered were severe, the paramedics were convicned he was a lost cause (still they have to do everything they can), so it was a shock to all when he pulled through. this was, however, not without a bit of a battle, and it left permanent effects on his health. casey's lungs are horribly scarred (smoke inhalation will do that to you), and it doesnt help that he smoked before and after. his nerves on the left side of his body where the support beam collapsed on him, are quite literally fried. where it hit directly, he cannot feel anything there, the areas that were dames by the fire however are unbelievably sensitive and painful to the touch. even after the scar healed it stills remains sensitive, so he bandages up those areas. the beam also broke and bruised a lot of his bones, mostly his ribs and the bones in his arms. his left ear is also burnt, and a portion of it, mostly the tips of it, are straight up missing. after recovering from the initial injury, he had a skin graft taken from his right thigh to supplement the damage done to the left side of his face. for a while after he had to take a lot of pain meds, and undergo a ton of therapy both mental and physical - even still hes not fully healed

casey loves animals, particularly dogs. his last foster mother had a german shepherd, and he used to let it sleep on his bed. it made him feel safe and loved. dogs and cats also just like to come up to him on the street, bros a disney princess for real

beefed with paperjam for a while, both had a lack of trust in each other, but they got to be on equal ground after a while, that didnt last long, not since after chapter 31..

hes fighting demons (bisexuality)

ever since he met gray and by extension his wack ass family, hes grown more and more accustomed to monster culture, particularly their disregard for gender norms and compulsive heterosexuality, and hes been experimenting with his gender expression, he never thought hed actually enjoy dressing in pink or taking care of his hair. he tried painting his nails, but did not have the patience to let them dry, he still sometimes wears it, albeit chipped and blotchy, but he thinks it suits him

he has always been fine with being labelled a man, but sometimes he doesnt feel as though it fits him, not entirely, hes not sure what his gender is because sometimes male really does fit him, but other times he just wants to throw the whole concept of gender away, hes stuck with unlabelled for a while and feels as though it somewhat fits him

he once buzzed his hair cause all the guys in his school did for whatever reason, he cried for several hours afterwards and got nicknamed sampson for a week, biggest mistake of his life - bro experienced dysphoria for the first time in his life

celebrates gyftmas because its way cooler than christmas (I NEED A GRACEY GYFTMAS ONESHOT ASAP), he celebrates the majority of monster holidays since everyone (1 to 2 people at max lmao) in the house he currently lives in does too. is confused as to what monster halloween is supposed to be

likes going out with gray (which is once in a blue moon), his favourite spot is waterfall, but he also really likes snowden and hotland

- headcANON

Holy shit HEADCANON I AM EATING SO WELL

Also I hope you don’t mind me tagging @ottererpop because they’re a Casey enthusiast as well and they must see all of this solid gold.

I Must respond to some of these AAA

- I talked with multiple people about how Casey is ABSOLUTELY breaking every dress code he possibly can. Like he would come to school in the bare minimum to not get expelled but his “uniform” would just be wrinkled to hell and his tie would just hang around his neck completely untied

- Casey is genuinely intelligent and if he actually tried in school he would do really well. However he’s a massive shithead and doesn’t care because of how depressed he is

- I do have a very specific speech pattern and tone of voice for him in my head but I’m not sure exactly how to write it. Also about him being from Birmingham - he’s not really from the main city itself but more generally around that area, so he very well could lived farther north and end up closer to the main city has he went to live with foster parents. Im purposefully avoiding getting too detailed with exact places and cities because then it just becomes hyper-specific.

- he absolutely would love undernovella - he love sitcoms so he would adore those over-dramatic plot twists

- He and his current foster mom (before he left ofc) have a tolerable relationship. She was often gone from the house and left him to his own devices, so he would mostly just skip school and play games on his computer all day, which did annoy her significantly.

- his smoking is partially a coping mechanism, partially a peer pressure “cool guy” thing that he picked up, and partially something that could very subtlety equate to self-harm. I could get into a whole thing about his smoking habits. He doesn’t smoke that often, but it is definitely something he tries to hide from Gray. Or at least not make it obvious. Like I said recently PJ has caught him smoking cigs over the kitchen sink while Gray’s been asleep.

- you are correct in your assumption that he doesn’t feel anything on the part of his torso that was severely burnt.

- I’m sure he has shaved all his hair off at some point. In the past he for-sure had one of those haircuts that’s short and buzzed all on the sides but long on the top, or at least buzzed in the back.

- gray’s family and the entire omega timeline being extremely unlabeled when it comes to gender and sexuality, like it’s not a big deal in the slightest, is definitely a massive change for Casey and he struggles to understand it. He’s grown up in an environment where he’s constantly felt like he has to prove how tough and unfeeling he is in order to get ahead. That’s why he’s so embarrassed of his severe sweet tooth, because he’s scared it comes across as “girly”. He’s by no means sexist but he definitely is over-anxious about not being perceived as “weak”.

- I’m sure he would absolutely adore waterfall :)

[abbatoirablaze]

Down The Rabbit Hole, Chapter 2

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings:  none

“So you’re mad at Annie and Shirley?”

“No, I’m not mad at them,” Britta huffed, looking over at Annie, “I’m mad at how they were doing the whole protest against the Guatemalan government!”

“Because it’s not what you wanted it to be?  Because it sort of sounds like you’re mad that they’re doing something about it and speaking up.”

“What?” she asked her eyes widening, “No!  I just-“

“Don’t like what they did!”

“Yeah…” she sighed, “god does that make me a hypocrite?”

“A little bit,” you admitted as you threw a piece of popcorn up into the air before catching it, “but I mean…it was also last month…so you could let it go!”

Britta was silent for a few moments and you looked at her.  She seemed to be deep in thought about something. You threw a piece of popcorn at her, “Britta!”

“Sorry…sorry…I just-I’m thinking about what happened in Spanish the other day!”

“Jeff said that he’d defend you though, right?” you asked, “I mean, he used to be a lawyer!  He might actually be able to get you out of it!”

“You know Jeff’s only helping me out because he still wants to get in my pants!”

“Yeah…that part’s still a bit weird.”

“Are you wearing Abed’s purple striped hoodie?”

Your eyes went wide, and you shook your head, “What?”

She smiled, “I recognize that hoodie.  He’s been wearing it almost all week!”

“What?” you repeated, “no he hasn’t.  I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You’re a horrible liar, Tawney!” she giggled, nudging you, “that is Abed’s hoodie, isn’t it?  I didn’t see him wearing it today but I just assumed that it was in the laundry or something!”

“Britta-“

“Are you and Abed dating?”

“No-no, I just-Abed was walking me home last night from the library after our study group,” you said quickly, “and I got cold.  So he let me borrow it!”

“But you’re wearing it right now!”

“Well, I-“

“You like Abed, don’t you?” You felt the blush heating up your cheeks as you looked at her, unable to answer the question.  Britta’s smile only got wider, “I can’t believe it.  You really do like Abed, don’t you?”

“I-I don’t know!”  you admitted truthfully, “Abed’s just always so sweet to me, and he’s helpful, and  nice…and cute…and-“

Annie squealed from beside you, “I knew it!  You and Abed are always together, even when you two don’t have classes anywhere near each other on campus!”

“Annie,” you groaned, looking to the other girl who was closer to your age, “can we not talk about this?  Why can’t we go back to talking about how Britta cheated!”

“I’m very much invested in Tawney’s story!” Shirley said over the phone.  You groaned again, and Britta smiled, looking to Annie’s phone.

“Thank you, Shirley!”

“Oh we’re coming back to you,” Shirley said firmly across the line, “but I want to prioritize this.  Just because I couldn’t come to Tawney’s dorm room for our girl’s night, and just because I had to get the boy’s because Andre had a work emergency, doesn’t mean I’m any less invested than I normally am!  Tawney.  Spill it girl.  What about you and Abed?”

“There is no me and Abed,” you sighed, looking at Annie’s phone before turning your attention to Annie and Britta, “guys…Abed and I are just friends.  He-he doesn’t see me like that.  I mean, I’ve never even had a guy interested in me-“

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?”

“No guy’s ever asked you out?”

“N-no…”

“Oh pumpkin,” Shirley sighed, her own sadness trilling across the line, “you poor thing.”

“Guys, it’s no big deal,” you tried to reaffirm, justifying how you’d never had a boyfriend before, “i-I’m just focused on school…and creating a career.  So, what if I’ve never had a boyfriend.  And so what if I think Abed’s cute!  He’s not interested in me!”

“We’ll see about that!” Britta smiled.

“Britta, no!” you begged.

“Where’s Abed,” Troy asked as he rounded the study group table, “I need to talk to him about his films!”

“That boy is flat out prescient.  He can read minds!”

Abed rounded the corner, shooting finger guns at you as he made his way into the study room.  You couldn’t stop the blush that rose to your cheeks.

Annie and Shirley gasped, and a look of recognition crossed Abed’s features, “I know what you’re going to say.  You guys watched my movies on the website!”

“He’s a witch!” Shirley proclaimed, pointing at him. 

“GET HIM!” Troy added in.

“Guys-“

“I got this Tawney,” Abed said quickly, cutting you off, “no.  I’m not a witch.  I’m a student of human character.  I know you guys all so well that I can predict your behavior.  Like Shirley!  I know that you’re a sweet, Christian, generous person. 

“Oh that’s nice!”

She turned to him as he copied her at the exact same time.

“I also know that you have thinly veiled rage issues!”

“Careful boy!” 

He did it again, and she gasped.

“Here, check this out,” he offered, walking around the table once more until he was between Troy and Shirley, “may I?”

“Yeah!”

Abed lifted Troy’s laptop from his stack of books and opened it, pulling up the site he was posting his videos to. Shirley, Annie, and Britta crowded around him and Troy.

“See…Jeff likes to act like things around here don’t bother him,” he pointed out, “but things bother him more than he lets on.  He’s also very vain!”

Everyone looked up to Jeff to see him eyeing up his cuticles.  He scoffed, “that’s ridiculous.”

“Ohh!” everyone sighed.

They turned back to the computer in time to see Troy’s character crying on the screen.  Troy looked at it nervously, “Why am I crying?  Will I listen to ‘Come Sail Away,’ by Styxx again?”

“You don’t have to worry, Troy.  It’s just a movie,” Abed shrugged, “I can’t predict the future.  In this Tawney has a crush on my character…and Pierce-“

The girls all looked up at you as the screen progressed, each of their own eyes going wide as they thought back to the conversation that happened around the time Britta got caught cheating on the Spanish test.

You shook your head at them. 

“What up, happy people?” Pierce asked, walking in with a leg splint.

Shirley slammed her fist down on the table, “you tell e my future right now, you evil wizard!”

“Shirley!” you gasped.

“By the way, Jeff.  I think your shirt’s trying to get out of your pants!” Pierce said, pointing to Jeff’s matching shirt and socks.

“I gotta go…” you lied, getting up to make your exit from the study room.

“Oh, I can walk you to your next class!”

“I-it’s not a class!” you said quickly, shaking your head at Abed.

“Oh, well to Professor Duncan’s office then,” he offered, “we can stop by the cafeteria and get some coffee from the coffee shop.  I know today’s your long day!”

The girls started giggling at you, and you felt like your cheeks were heating up even more as you gathered your books, “I-it’s okay Abed.  Don’ worry about it!”

You bolted without another word from the group, ignoring the calls to come back from Britta, Annie, and Shirley.  But you didn’t walk quick enough to evade Abed, who was already hot on your trail.

“Tawney…Tawney, wait!” Abed said quickly. 

“I-I’m sorry, Abed.  I should go!”

“Hey…wait…Tawney, what’s going on?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“With you?” he asked quickly, pointing back to the room, “a-are you freaked out about the movies I’ve been making too?  I can’t see the future!  I swear!”

“Abed…your videos are right!” you sighed.

“What?” he chuckled, “no.  It’s just a coincidence.  I-“

“I do like you!” you said quickly, cutting him off.  You took a deep breath, needing to continue before you lost your edge, “your videos are right.  I do have a crush on you.  I told the girls last month…it’s just…when you do all these little things like walking me all over campus, and giving me your hoodie because I’m cold-“

“Well, that’s just logic,” he said simply, cutting you off, “you were cold, and I wasn’t.  It’s safer to walk in pairs.  I just-“

“All those little things add up though,” you pointed out, “and they made me realize that I liked you.  I like our walks all over campus…and when you come and visit me when I’m grading papers in my dorm.  And when you remember my long days.  And when we have movie nights in your dorm and watch all of the Batman films in the correct order of who played the best Batman versus Bruce Wayne!”

“I like that too!” he said simply, the smallest of smiles on his face, “and I really like the fact that you see the logic in how we’ve rated them.”

“It’s because it’s the only right way!” you giggled.

“If I’m being honest…I like you too, Tawney,” he admitted, “it-it’s just easier to hide it behind the lens, and pretend that it doesn’t exist…like we’re on a tv show or in a movie.”

“Yeah…”

“So where do we go from here?” he asked.

“I-I don’t know!” you admitted, “but I-I want to find out!”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding along to what you were saying, “me too…”

“Okay…”

“So…can I walk you to get a coffee?” he asked, “and then to Professor Duncan’s office.

“I-I was actually going to go back to my dorm for a little bit and grade some papers,” you admitted, “but if you want…we can call that place we both like and order some takeout.”

“We can order the chicken parm for you…” he smiled.

“And you can get your buttered noodles.”

“I’d like that!” he smiled.

Chapter 3

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @mckeeee-1, @prokey16

[xxarmchairphilosopherxx]

There's this odd trend in anime, have you noticed it yet?

It’s actually been there for a while, hell maybe since some of its early and most beloved days. It's mystic shrines tended to by beautiful maidans, wise elders beseeching the forces beyond on behalf of their people, and those so special moments shared by all who live around them… That’s right baby it’s the Spanish inquisition!!!!

Well technically it's the larger organization from which the surprising Spaniards derived from. Of course I mean the catholic church. That’s right from Trigon to Black lagoon to whatever the hell Black clover thinks nuns are, the Japanese anime industry is in love with the Bishop of Rome’s fan club. And while many enjoy these shoutouts or are just as equally confused by them, few have sought to shed light on this subject. But those who do I got some protestant v catholic beef with yell.

Many posit that the Japanese place so many Catholic imagery, ideas, and design motifs into their shows simply because it’s this interesting foreign thing that just looks neat. Pic related.

Well I say nay nay to that. Before we dive into the REAL reason for why Japan actually loves them Roman Residents, that the feds don’t want you to know. We must first at least cast off this lesser understanding.

                Ok now that clickbait dramatics are out of the way this idea of Japanese fascination with Catholics and Christianity as a whole being purely based of aesthetics and just vague interest is not inherently wrong. But I do find it to be incomplete. I mean come on if they want some weird ass religion to put in their show they got India and Hinduism right across the way. Now this is no slight at my beloved Hindis out there but ya'll got to admit your religion would make the most balls to the walls kickass anime since Gurren Lagan destroyed my eyeballs and left for dead in Cincinnati.

(Cough Cough) Furthermore, I just find that there are other options for Japan that they seem to completely ignore. I mean why not Judaism or Islam, hell why not even other forms of Christianity like Greek Orthodoxy or even Mormonism. NO!

There is something special about Catholicism that these cool cats in Tokyo can’t get enough of and I’m about to blow your mind with it...

It’s not what’s different but what they have in common.

No I’m serious! There are numerous and very shocking similarities that make Catholicism the perfect mix of mysterious and familiar for the Japanese/Shinto palate.

            First and foremost of these is chivalry. When one looks into the history of Bushido one will always find the Buddha specifically the Zen Buddhism mixed in with their own Shinto background. From this fertile soil of respect for nature and stoicism would sprout into the powerful flower of the bushido code. And oh, would you look at that that’s right! After the European horseman of old got sipping that sweet Catholic eucharist wine, what did they end up doing? Giving themselves a rule book called chivalry to keep them in line with that heavenly way. So obviously when a Japanese man would trace the lines, he’d be like "oh, so this is like what Zen and Shinto was like to the samurai? That’s pretty neat let’s throw it in my new anime."

            Another odd one is gonna get a little more esoteric so work with me here. I believe that both the Catholic Church and Shintoism both have this acknowledgement of a similar phenomenon. The inherent mystic power of the feminine touch.

See shrine maidans and nuns. Both are almost synonymous when one thinks of their respective church or shrine. Like ask a western man what he thinks when you say catholic church... and after all the profane shit, he’ll likely say nuns. A similar phenomena would be seen in the Japanese man... minus the profanity. I believe this similarity exists because both Catholicism and Shintoism accounted for that special touch a woman can bring to a place. That grace and delicate nature, that way of mysterious connection to the more stranger aspects of the world. It’s like this meme.

            Now next is another weird one that came to mind. They both have this ritualistic respect of water. For the Catholic this is baptism and the use of holy water to bless one’s self and other objects, a similar concept exists in Japan where one washes their hands before entering a Shrine and then there is the use of ritualistic waterfall bathing, Misogi.

now this is like baptism on steroids so here’s another handshake meme.

           

Alright now we can really get into the anime shit. Demons!!! Not only do they both share a common insane lore of specific demons and all the fucked-up shenanigans that ensue, but they also have equal amounts of exorcisms and exorcists to kick infernal ass. Seriously, I think this is like the main reason why we see so many Catholics in anime fighting demons. It's as old as the Nazarene Himself. So when a Japanese man hears something about Jesus casting out a thousand demon host named Legion you better believed he’s gonna go home and write some kick ass manga featuring some big ass demon named Legion. Said Japanese man pictured here

It's gonna be Jump's next big three slot just you wait.

            And finally, to top this all off Imma end it wholesome 100. So there is this huge aspect in Japanese culture where a large majority will go to shrines get themselves and their children blessed and attend and partake in all the festivals, but not really call themselves Shinto. Is this not the same as all of those who go to Easter and Christmas mass even though they couldn't tell you a cross from a crucifix?

This is the final similarity. That something beyond the theology which binds the community together. And even though these so called 'different' worlds are oceans apart they share this community bond, that little slice of unity in this crazy world and makes it all worth it. And that kid is what we call in the philosophy Bizz an universal concept… and a way to make some kick ass anime.

Anyway that's about it smell you later hoped you learned something.