#i keep on going to reply sections (bad idea)

[fudge24-7]

Wondering if tumblr is really good for me

[puck-luck]

Like Hughes, prompt 1, hearts… I was thinking maybe she’s having a bad day and talking about her brain just not shutting up something along those lines lol

warnings: oral fem receiving on a dining room table wc: 619

“I’m sorry, Lu. I know I’ve been talking about this for a while. You must be bored,” you say sheepishly, picking at the remaining food on your plate. 

“I’m not bored,” Luke replies. “I like listening to you talk, even if you’re just venting about how work sucked today. It’s up to you if you want to keep talking about it, babe.”

“I’m sure I could talk about it forever,” you grumble. “I just hate how in my head I get over the stupidest mistakes and interactions. I know it’s not that deep, but I get so wigged out.” You stab at the pile of green beans with your fork. “I wish there was some way where I could just turn off my mind when I don’t want to use it.”

Luke quirks an eyebrow at you. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. You shrug. “It gets overwhelming to be in my brain, sometimes. It would be nice to quiet it down.”

Luke looks at you for a moment too long. “I have an idea for that,” he says. He clears his plate, then yours. 

“Luke, I wasn’t done eating,” you complain.

“I’ll reheat it for you if you’re still hungry after.” He leaves his plate in the sink, but places yours in the refrigerator. Then, he walks back over to you, taking your hand and guiding you out of the chair. He moves your utensils and glass of water to the floor, away from your feet. “You trust me?” He asks, thumbing over your bottom lip.

“‘Course,” you reply. “Always.”

Luke smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling slightly. “Good.” He backs you up against the table, trapping you. You hop up onto the ledge, sitting back more comfortably as Luke towers over you. He brings both of his hands to the sides of your face, cradling your jaw as he leans down to kiss you until your chest is heaving and your cheeks are flushed. “I’m gonna fuck every last thought out of this pretty little head,” Luke says like he’s swearing on his grave. “But first, I’m going to eat my dessert.”

You feel a bit lightheaded and hot as he gets to his knees, undressing your lower half. His hands rake over your exposed thighs, tickling your flesh and groping the particularly meaty sections in his hands. Luke kisses over the inside of your thighs, the sensitive areas marked with suction mark after suction mark– they’ll all fade by tomorrow, so you can’t call them hickeys. He’s so sweet about the way he teases you, which lasts until you’re unable to wait any longer. You stammer out a plea for him to do more, unsure if you’re in a space where Luke will grant your requests.

His eyes lock with yours and a smirk covers his mouth. He maintains eye contact as he inches forward, sticking his tongue out when he gets close enough and flicks the tip over your clit. He’s not close enough for it to be anything more than a tease, but the touch already has you whimpering and trying to move your hips closer to his tongue. 

Instead of chastising you for being so greedy, Luke buries his face in your cunt. He went from nothing to everything at once– making you cry out. Your hands fly to his hair. Luke just closes his eyes and nuzzles into your pussy, his tongue working overtime against your clit. One of his fingers has started to trace slowly around the rim of your entrance, although he refuses to enter. 

He seems hell-bent on making your pleasure wash all over his fingers well before they even enter you– you’re in for a long night.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension

I woke up the next morning at 9.30 am, pulling the eye mask over my head as the sunlight flooded in my entryway. Stretching, I let out a yawn and checked my phone. Still no response from Matt. Not that I was expecting any after being left on read.

Brushing it off, I got up and threw on my slippers. Nick and I we going shopping at 11, and the idea of getting out of the house lifted my mood. But first I needed coffee, desperately.

I dragged my feet downstairs to the kitchen and made myself a quick breakfast, scrambled eggs on toast and coffee from the Keurig. Simple but enough to wake me up. While I ate, I doom scrolled on my phone, pausing every so often to read back over my messages with Matt. Still no reply.

I don't know why it frustrated me, I guess I just wanted answers. I rinsed my plate, set it in the dishwasher, and headed into the bathroom to get ready. It was nice to not feel rushed or that I was bothering Matt by taking my time in here. The hot water from the shower was just what I needed. I stayed under longer than usual, it was a small luxury, but I enjoyed it.

After finishing up and drying my hair, I walked back up to my room, pulling open my closet. My eyes immediately landed on the yellow Ralph Lauren jumper Nick had given me yesterday. I threw it on and paired it with my favorite jeans and white sneakers. I glanced at myself in the mirror, adjusting the jumper. It was slightly oversized but felt snug in all the right ways. I sprayed my perfume over myself to finish it all off.

“Perfect” I muttered to myself before grabbing my bag.

Nick opened his bedroom door, ready to go with an eager grin on his face. “Ready to spend some money?” he asked, holding Chris’ card up.

Nick ordered an uber and suggested we check in on Nate to see if he needed anything while we were out. I followed him down the stairs to Chris’ room. Nick gently knocked on the door before peeking inside. "Still out cold" he whispered, shaking his head with a small grin. I glanced past him and saw Nate sprawled across the bed, tangled in Chris’ blanket, looking completely unbothered by the world. 

"Kids on a two day hangover by the look of it, what did you do to him?" Nick laughed, closing the door quietly before turning to me with a shrug. 

"Don’t ask me, maybe he just can’t keep up like I can. Let’s just get him some snacks anyway, he’ll probably appreciate them when he finally wakes up."

The uber arrived an we hopped into the car, the Uber driver was really friendly and even let us have AUX. Nick seized the opportunity and started blasting one of his favorite playlists. The drive to the mall was filled with his off key singing while the driver laughed. It was impossible to be in a bad mood when Nick was like this, completely carefree and full of energy.

We arrived at the bustling mall, and I was instantly reminded of how much I loved and hated these places. The endless options were both exciting and overwhelming. Nick, of course, was in his element.

“Okay, first things first” he declared, clapping his hands together. “You need a suitcase. Like a good one, something sturdy.”

I followed him through the luggage section of a department store, pulling at the endless rows of suitcases in every size and color. I settled on a large suitcase in a turquoise shade. It was light but durable, with smooth wheels and plenty of compartments for organizing.

“This one feels very.. you” Nick said, wheeling it toward the register. “Now we just need to fill it"

Next, we headed to the clothing stores. The first thing to look for was swimwear. I sifted through racks of bikinis, one pieces, and cover ups while Nick hovered nearby, occasionally pulling something out and holding it up.

“This is cute” he said, holding a bright coral bikini against me.

“Too bright” I replied, shaking my head.

“You’re going to Hawaii! Bright is the point.”

We compromised on a mix of neutral and vibrant pieces, including a black one piece with a scoop back and a yellow bikini that Nick insisted matched the jumper he’d given me.

From there, we moved to outfits. Sundresses, flowy skirts, tank tops, and breathable shorts for getting in and out of the pool all made their way into my shopping bags. A wide brimmed sun hat and a pair of oversized sunglasses were also thrown into the mix.

“You’re going to look like you’re in a Vogue ad with those on” Nick teased as we passed the checkout.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” I shot back, laughing.

The last thing on our list was footwear. I grabbed a pair of comfortable sandals and white sneakers that would pair well with most outfits. Nick talked me into buying a pair of wedge heels “just in case” I wanted to dress up a bit fancier for dinner.

With every bag we accumulated, the excitement for the trip grew. Nick carried most of them without complaint, weaving through the mall like a man on a mission, while I lugged the suitcase behind me.

“Shit” he said.  “We forgot toiletries. Let’s go.”

We loaded up on mini shampoo bottles, sunscreen, bug spray, and anything else that could fit into the clear bag at security. I also grabbed a neck pillow for the flight and a small blanket.

“I think we went a little overboard” I admitted, looking at everything we had.

“No such thing" Nick replied, starting the engine. “You’re going to Hawaii. You deserve to look and feel amazing! Now, shoes again” Nick declared.

“But I already got shoes” I protested.

“You don’t have these shoes” he said, dragging me into another store.

Before I knew it, I’d added a pair of espadrilles and waterproof slides to my collection. At this point, I was sure I had enough to outfit myself for a two month long trip, not just two weeks in Hawaii.

“Okay” Nick said, stretching dramatically. “I’m starving. Let’s get food.”

We headed to a nearby bistro that had outdoor seating. The warm sunshine paired with the scent baked goods was heavenly. I ordered a chicken and cheese sandwich, while Nick opted for a salad.

As we waited for our food, Nick checked his phone and grinned.

“Chris’s phone is dispatched” he said. “Should be here later today.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Finally. It’s been so weird not being able to get in touch with him directly.”

Nick nodded, taking a sip of his iced tea. “Yeah, I’d say Matt doesn't know what to do now that his phone actually gets messages.”

The mention of Matt and messages nearly makes me turn red.

“What time are they getting home today actually?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Nick shrugged. “Sometime later tonight. They booked a nighttime flight.”

I nodded, trying not to read too much into it. The food arrived, and we dug in, enjoying the rare moment of quiet.

After finishing our meal, Nick glanced at the mountain of shopping bags we’d accumulated and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“There’s no way we’re fitting this all in a normal car.” he declared, rubbing his temples dramatically.

I laughed. “You’re the one who kept saying, ‘Oh, just get it! It’s perfect!’”

He rolled his eyes. “And I don’t regret it one bit, but let’s be real. We need reinforcements, or at least a bigger car.”

Nick pulled out his phone and started tapping away. A moment later, he said, “Uber XL. It’s the only way we’re fitting all of this and ourselves into one ride.”

I nodded in agreement, looking at the bags around us. There were at least three overflowing ones just from the boutique alone, plus the suitcase we’d bought earlier that took up a ridiculous amount of space.

“Good call” I said.

Within minutes, a shiny black mini van pulled up outside the bistro. The driver stepped out, taking one look at us and our bags, and raised an eyebrow.

“Shopping spree?” he asked with a grin.

“You could say that” Nick replied with a chuckle. 

The driver helped us load everything into the trunk, which, despite being spacious, was a tight fit. Once everything was secured, we hopped into the backseat, relieved to finally be off our feet.

As the car pulled away, Nick leaned back and sighed contentedly. “I’m never going shopping without an Uber XL again. This is the only way to do it.”

I laughed, leaning my head against the window as we cruised through the city. My thoughts drifted to Hawaii and all the outfits I’d packed for, the sunshine, the beaches. I felt a little buzz of excitement, like maybe this trip would be exactly what I needed.

We arrived home just near 3pm. Nick pushed the front door open with his hip, three shopping bags dangling from each hand, I followed closely behind, lugging the suitcase and two additional bags. The sheer weight of it all, especially the suitcase made me huff as I maneuvered it over the step into the house.

We paused just inside, catching our breath, when faint voices floated down from upstairs. My ears perked up, and I immediately recognized the voices. Chris and Matt.

Nick frowned, glancing back at me. “Are they.. here?”

“Surely not?” I replied, adjusting my grip on the suitcase. “You said their flight wasn’t supposed to land until later tonight.”

Nick shrugged, then headed up the stairs. I struggled to hoist the suitcase up the first few steps, the wheels knocking against the edges of each one.

“Could use some help here” I muttered, but Nick was already out of sight, more curious about the voices upstairs than my struggle.

By the time I reached the top, dragging the suitcase behind me, I could hear Nick questioning the guys.

“What the fuck are you two doing back so early?” he asked, standing in the hallway with a confused look.

Chris grinned, arms wide open as he stepped forward and dramatically pulled Nick into a bear hug. “What, I can’t miss my brother and come home early to see him?”

Nick groaned but didn’t pull away. “Chris you were gone for two whole days. Seriously though. What’s the deal? You weren’t supposed to land until later tonight.”

Matt leaned against the doorframe of his room, arms crossed and looking mildly amused. Chris finally released Nick and laughed.

“Man, we were so hungover yesterday that we couldn’t bear the thought of sitting around Vegas all day today waiting for a late flight. So, we booked an earlier one before we hit the strip last night” Chris explained.

Nick shook his head, muttering something about impulsiveness, before turning back toward me. “You hear that? Weak.”

I smirked, finally dropping the suitcase with a thud. Chris glanced over at me, his smile softening.

“Hey, Y/n” he greeted.

“Hey” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face and wondering why seeing him felt like a surprise.

As Chris glanced around, he ran a hand through his hair. "Yo, Nick, have you seen my business card? I swear I had it before we left for Vegas."

Nick smirked, clearly trying to rile him up. "I have it" he said casually, glancing at me standing there with my brand new suitcase and an absurd number of shopping bags.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Well, can I have it back, genius?"

"Maybe" Nick teased, then pivoted. "Oh, by the way, your new phone should be here later today. You’re welcome."

I stood awkwardly at the top of the stairs, fully aware of Matt’s presence just a few feet away. He hadn’t said anything yet, but the tension was undeniable.

Finally Matt’s voice cut through the air, his tone sharper than necessary. "What’s with the suitcase? You finally moving out?"

I blinked, caught off guard by his comment. Before I could respond, Nick jumped in.

"It’s for Hawaii" Nick said as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually.

Matt’s confusion was obvious, his brows furrowing deeply. "Hawaii? You already have a suitcase that size."

Nick shook his head, grinning like he was about to drop a bombshell. "It’s not for me, Einstein. It’s for Y/n."

Matt turned to me, his expression instantly hardening like he’d just been sucker punched. His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I swore he looked genuinely hurt.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and he looked like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. His eyes flicked to me again, unreadable, before he straightened up and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Wow some trip this is going to be then." he muttered before disappearing into his room, the door closing behind him, quiet but firm.

The hallway felt colder, and I avoided Nick’s gaze, pretending to fiddle with one of the bags. Chris, oblivious as ever, clapped Nick on the shoulder.

"Alright, where’s my card?"

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "Not so fast, bro. You’re helping me unpack this stuff first."

As the two of them headed off upstairs, I stood there, staring at Matt’s closed door, feeling a wave of something I couldn’t quite name. Guilt? Frustration? Maybe a mix of both. But I quickly shook it off and grabbed the suitcase, dragging upstairs toward my room and telling myself not to overthink it. Once everything was up in my room, Nick dropped his load dramatically on the floor, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"Alright, that’s my good deed for the day" Chris said, brushing his hands together like the work was done.

"You’ve been so helpful" I said sarcastically as I started sorting through the bags.

Chris smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "You going to pack tomorrow?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah, we’re starting to pack now. No point in waiting till tomorrow morning and rushing."

Chris raised an eyebrow, watching me open the suitcase and start placing clothes inside. "If only I was that organised" he laughed, walking further into the room. His eyes immediately went to the Fresh Love samples hung up by the closet.

He stepped closer, tilting his head to get a better look. "Woah" he said, running his fingers lightly over one of the pieces. "These look even better in person. The photos don’t do them justice."

I glanced over at him, feeling a bit of pride in his compliment. "Thanks. I really like them.”

Chris nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "I ordered some personalized samples for us all to be delivered to our villa in Hawaii. Thought we could take some pictures out there for a night time shoot, maybe use them for promos. I got us all varsity jackets with our initial on them, and then some other pieces I thought everyone would like."

Nick perked up at that, clearly impressed. "That’s such a good idea! Especially since it's cold at night" he said, nudging me with his elbow.

I smiled at both of them, my chest swelling a bit with pride. "I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get some shots out there" I admitted, picturing how amazing the pieces would look in a tropical setting.

Chris picked up one of the sample pieces, holding it out. "Yeah, these are gonna kill it. People are gonna go nuts over this drop."

I nodded, the excitement of everything bubbling under the surface. For the first time in a while, I felt like things were coming together, and the thought of getting to share it in such a beautiful setting made it even better.

Chris set the sample back on the rack and stretched, letting out a small yawn. "Alright, I’m gonna go check in with Nate" he said, glancing toward the stairs. "He was still knocked out when I peeked into his room earlier. Probably still recovering from your crazy night out."

Nick gave him a nod. "Yeah, sounds about right.”

Chris chuckled. "I’ll catch you guys in a bit." With that, he turned and headed out of the room, the sound of his footsteps fading as he made his way downstairs.

Nick, without missing a beat, grabbed his pile of shopping bags and suitcase and walked toward his own room, which was right next to mine. “I’m leaving the door open so we can pack together. This way, I can judge your packing skills and make sure you don’t leave anything important behind."

I rolled my eyes but laughed. "Oh, because you’re the authority on packing now?"

Nick grinned as he disappeared into his room, propping his door open so we could still talk. "Absolutely. I’m a seasoned traveler, unlike you. I’ve got the technique down to a science."

I could hear him rustling through his bags, muttering about how he might need to pick up another pair of shorts before we left. Meanwhile, I started folding my clothes neatly into the suitcase. 

Nick's voice carried over from his room as I heard the distinct sound of a zipper being tugged open. "Alright" he began, "Let’s see what we’ve got here. Swim trunks, check. I brought the neon ones this time.."

I laughed, picturing him strutting around in the loudest pair of swim trunks he could find. "You really need neon to stand out? Thought your personality did that already."

"Ha ha" he shot back. "No, but seriously, you’ll thank me when you’re trying to spot me in the ocean. Anyway.. tank tops. Got a few new ones, including that white one you said looked good. Oh, and my black button up for dinners. Can’t be showing up to a nice restaurant looking like I just rolled off the beach."

The sound of him rifling through bags grew louder. "Flip flops, sneakers, maybe I should bring those prada loafers.. what do you think?"

 "Definitely bring the loafers for dinners. You’ll regret not having them."

"Good call" he replied, tossing them into his suitcase. "Alright, what else? Oh, sunscreen, got the high SPF stuff this time. Learned my lesson after that beach trip last summer. And hats! Gotta protect this money maker " he added, gesturing dramatically at his face.

"You’re ridiculous" I said with a laugh.

"Ridiculously prepared" he corrected. 

I shook my head, smiling to myself as I continued to fold my clothes. "You sound like you’re moving away for good, not going on a vacation."

"Hey!" he called out, "you’re gonna thank me when you’re borrowing my stuff because you forgot something."

"Bold of you to assume I’d forget anything" I shot back, neatly placing my toiletries into my bag.

Nick peeked his head into the hallway. "Care to make a bet on that?"

I smirked. "We’ll see."

I glance around Nick’s room one last time, making sure he isn’t about to burst out again with some last minute comment, but all I hear is the sound of him collapsing onto his bed. “Alright, I’m taking a nap. All that shopping has me worn out” 

I laugh at how dramatic he was, and closed over his bedroom door to let him sleep. I zipped up my suitcase and placed it in the corner of my room.

Now in silence, I sit on the edge of my bed. The small envelope from the flowers catching my attention, sitting on my bedside locker. It feels like it’s mocking me, just sitting there like some unsolved mystery. My fingers twitch as I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. Why does something so small have such a big hold over me? I hate how awkward everything feels now again, how one card and a few unread messages can mess with my head so much.

But I can’t go to Hawaii like this. I’m actually excited for the trip, and I’ll be damned if Matt is going to ruin it for me with this unresolved weirdness.

Acting on impulse, I shove the card back into the envelope and stand up. My heart’s pounding as my legs move before my brain fully catches up. Next thing I know, I’m marching down the stairs, the envelope clutched tightly in my hand like a lifeline.

The closer I get to Matt’s door, the louder the rush of blood in my ears becomes. The house feels strangely quiet, the kind of stillness that makes you hyper aware of every movement. I stop just outside his room, hesitating for a second. Maybe I should think this through, figure out what I’m even going to say. But before I can overthink it, my hand is already on the door handle.

I push the door open without knocking, stepping inside before I can change my mind. Matt’s sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He looks up, startled, as the door swings open.

“Uh, hello?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Ever heard of knocking?”

I ignore him, taking a step closer. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” he says, crossing his arms. “That you’re stealing Chris’ money and my clothes now?” He says, pointing at the yellow jumper I have on me.

Fuck this is his jumper.

No wonder the scent was familiar.

I take a deep breath, trying to not show how awkward I felt.

"About this. And about whatever game you think you’re playing." I say, holding up the envelope.

a/n: i <3 cliffhangers

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[cloudcountry]

Yooooooo happy to see that field of mistria are making you happy ^-^ i'd like to request reader helping march dye his hair ( lots of bickering and threatening to turn him pink instead ) but since ik you don't really like him and might not feel inspired here's another idea ( choose whichever one you feel most comfortable writing for ) how about flower picking with Celine :)

SUMMARY: when the saturday market can't come to town, you offer to help march dye his hair instead

COMMENTS: no pls wifey im very much joking w you i like march :(( hes just a bitch and im going to stab him. with a plastic sword. gently.

i dont have dividers so i am recycling my header ITS FINE DONT WORRY ABOUT IT

“Ow, would you quit pulling my hair like that?” March groans, shooting you a dirty look over his shoulder, “For all that skill you claim to have you don’t act—”

“Oh will you hush?” you huff, gently tugging on a handful of March’s hair on purpose, “If you stopped squirming and whining, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad!”

He grumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch, but you’re far too busy sectioning off his surprisingly thick hair to prepare for the (tacky) bright red hair dye.

“Why the fuck is your hair so thick?” you comment, very much amused.

“Oh shut up.” March snaps, “If I could reach back there and grab a fistful of your hair to yank around I would, you little—”

You click your tongue, interrupting him once again. “Worry about yourself, March. Wouldn’t want my hand to slip and for you to end up with pink hair, now would we?”

He grumbles again, and you giggle.

It occurs to you that, if anyone were to overhear this conversation, they’d assume you and the blacksmith were a hair’s breath away from killing each other.

You pat yourself on the back for the winning pun you just made. Holt would be proud.

“Oi, I can feel your smugness from here. Whatever you’re thinking about, it’s making me sick.”

“I was just thinking about you.” you comment offhandedly, snatching up the bottle of dye flippantly, “You must be pretty awful if you make yourself sick.”

“Don’t say shit like that, it’s weird.” he crosses his arms in his chest and sinks into the chair, his back hunched as if trying to make himself smaller.

You wonder why he’s shriveling up now. Normally he'd return your scathing insult.

Instead of asking, you opt not to. You pop the cap off the dye bottle and start applying it to his scalp, massaging it into the roots. You try not to feel smug about the way March so obviously relaxes, shoulders dropping and head falling into your touch, his breathing shifting from frustrated to calm.

You also try not to feel warm about the way he looks right now, vulnerable and soft, you try not to think about how it’s just the two of you here, with his brother who knows where, and you try not to think about the very tempting open space of his forehead, which is finally not all wrinkly for once.

You don’t want to smooth over those wrinkles with your thumb at all. And you certainly do not want to kiss them after a hard day’s work.

Even when he’s sweaty.

Especially when he’s sweaty.

You cough loudly into your arm, trying your best not to squirm where you’re standing, lest you mess up March’s hair.

Fully expecting him to turn around and scold you for ruining the moment, you’re surprised when he doesn’t move.

“You’re such a weirdo.” he says, but his voice his soft and there’s no real bite to them.

The smile that threatens to burst out of you is barely held back by your desire to keep the solemn, dare you say affectionate atmosphere going.

“So are you.” you reply, and your voice is equally as soft.

March snorts, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say it was a genuine laugh.

[oreolemur]

Streamer's Worst Nightmare

Working as a streamer, you never showed your face. It was easy to make money having a cute virtual character impersonate you, but after losing a couple of fans, money became tight. “Guess what guys?”, you asked your audience through the stream. “I’m starting an Onlyfans!”. In the chat section you had a mixture of comments complimenting and some shaming you. “I know this may be a bad idea…but at least I’ll let you guys see my face”. Looking at the chat you began to get more supportive replies. “It’ll only be for a short time until I work something out for extra cash. I hope you all subscribe and see more of my personal interests”. Waving goodbye to your fans, you immediately shut off your webcam. “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, you sighed. 

Meanwhile, there was one fan of yours who wasn’t too happy about your decision. “An Onlyfans, huh?”, the man titled his head. “I’m not too happy to hear about that y/n”. He sat in front of his computer, lurking through your socials as he scarfed down a bunch of sweets. “I should pay a visit to her soon”. Crouching at his desk, L took drastic measures to find your location. “I will have you sooner or later, my sweet doll”.

Over the next few days, you began to feel more and more comfortable with your new line of work. “I’m making more than what I do streaming”, you beamed, staring at your financial statistics. “Maybe I should keep this up. Just for a little”. Posting pic after pic and video after video, you decided to open up your messages to give your subscribers a paid one on one chat with you. “Cum to my dm’s and have a little fun with me in private, my loves”, you say, making a vid of yourself in a pink robe. “I’ll be waiting”. 

After making your final post for the day, you spent the entire night trying to reply back to the hundreds of customers who hit your dm’s. “I didn’t know I’d get this much”. Without opening the last few that came in, you got bored. “Nothing new?”, you scoffed. “It’s all the same suggestions”. Before closing your laptop, you received another message. “This one better be good”. Opening it, your eyes widened. “Hello”, it read. “At least this one has a normal greeting”, you smiled.

Messaging the person back, you enjoyed talking to them. “Wow, it’s been 30 minutes and they haven’t asked for anything special yet”. Texting them back, you asked them this. “Are you not interested in seeing anything special tonight?”. Waiting for their reply, you suddenly hear a noise in your living room. “That must be the cat again”, you sighed. Getting up from your bed, you headed that way. “Come here baby”, you signaled your pet. Picking up the furry animal, you walked back towards your room. Seeing the notification come through, you gently put down your cat. As you read the reply, your heart skipped a beat. “W-what?”. Reading the message again, you wanted to make sure that your eyes were working correctly. “Something special? Like your cute fuzzy slippers in the front doorway”, the message read. “This can’t be happening”, you begin to panic. Texting the person back, “What fuzzy slippers? I don’t have any”.  Biting his nails, L stood in front of your bedroom door, “These ones”, he said. 

Feeling a chill go down your spine, your heart beats fast as you froze. “You do have quite an interesting taste in style, doll”. Seeing the man from the corner of your eye, you turned around slowly. “H-How did you get in?”, you asked. He approached you slowly, bending down to your level as you sat on the bed. “Don’t worry about that”, he said. L’s big eyes stared at you, taking note of all of your beautiful facial features. “You know…”, he paused. “You’re more pretty in person…and short too”. He then tried to reach for your face, but you smacked his hand away. “D-don’t touch me”, you said, scooting back. L grabbed your leg, pulling you back towards him. “I’m stronger than I look. I would hate it if you made me get physical with you, my love”, he said. 

“What do you want?”, you asked. “You”, L replied. "M-me? Why me?", you questioned. "If you're some creepy fan that has a crush on me...I won't date you". L tilts his head. "Why you? You're interesting. You interest me in ways no other human has. I want to peel you open. Analyze every inch of your brain until I know everything about you”, he chuckles. Hearing him say that creeped you out even more. L leans forward with each word. As he does so, his long black hair falls around his face, shrouding his eyes from view. "I want to get inside you”. L leans forward even more, until his face is mere inches from yours. His hair, now a tangled mess, conceals his face, but you can see the glint of curiosity and hunger in his eyes. "I want... to devour you." L whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

He tried to grab you, but you dodged it. You fell on the floor, getting up quickly to run away. The man smirked. He liked to watch people try and escape him. He always caught his prey in the end. L follows you, moving surprisingly quickly for somebody as lanky as him. "Where are you going, dear? The game was just getting interesting”. You ran into the living room, tripping over your cat's litter box. "Shit!", you yelled. You got up, heading towards the front door. L chuckled again. He really liked how you were trying to escape. It was so amusing and cute to watch you try and get away from him. L continued his pursuit, closing the ever-shrinking distance between you. "Don't you know that running away only makes me want you more, my dear? The more you resist, the more I crave to devour you”. 

You tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. L was suddenly directly behind you, his lips next to your ear. "It doesn't matter. There is no escaping me at this point, darling. I'm faster. I'm stronger. I'm smarter. You will be mine." L's words send shivers down your spine. He wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling towards you to the bedroom. "Let me go!", you shouted. "Oh, you are so adorable. Trying to act so tough even though you're shaking like a leaf in my grasp. I can feel how tense you are. You know you can't get away from me, but still, you persist. It's so cute!" L continues to drag you to the bedroom, a smug smirk on his face. 

Once inside, he throws you onto the bed as he proceeds to take off his shirt. L tosses his shirt to the side, revealing his pale, lean chest. His eyes glint wickedly as he looks down at you. "Are you feeling vulnerable, my dear?”. You begin to cry, seeing him get closer and closer to you. "Please go away!", you begged. "Oh, but my darling, we're just getting started." L climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. As he does so, his long black hair falls forward, framing his face again. "You can't run from me. You can't hide from me. I will always find you." He leans down and whispers in your ear. "You're my obsession now”. He rubbed his hands through your hair, pulling on it as he brought your face close to his.  "Shhh... let me hear those pretty cries," L says, placing his finger on your lips. "I want to savor every sound that comes out of you. You're so enticing when you're scared. It's like I'm feasting on a delicious meal”.

He kissed your lips passionately, pushing his tongue past the barrier of your lips. He explored the inside of your mouth, slightly moaning. A trail of spit connected both of your lips and he pulled away. “Now…”, he said. “I want to see more of you”. His hand opened the slit of your robe, exposing your breasts. “Perfect”, L said. He pinned your arms above your head as he moved his way down to your tits. He stuck out his tongue, licking your sensitive nipples. “S-stop”, you said, letting out a small whimper. His hand traveled down to your waist, rubbing your bare cunt. “You have such soft skin”, he said, making a pop suction noise as his mouth latched on and off your tit. Your legs shook, feeling him massage your clit. “No”, you said, closing them, trapping his hand in between your thighs. “I don’t like uncooperative people, my dear”, he said, forcing your legs open.

L’s cock hardened inside his pants, making him blush. “My god”, he said, moving his hand away from your pussy, he had your arms pinned with one hand as the other moved to unbutton his pants. “I didn’t think I would get this excited”, he said. You laid there crying, wishing this situation was over with. You saw his dick poke out of his boxers. “Stay still”, he said, unpinning you. He pulled them down just enough so he can fuck you. With your legs still spread, L positioned himself comfortably between them. He placed his cock on your cunt, spitting on it. He rubbed himself on you, attempting to lube your dry pussy. “If you scream I will hurt you”, he said, shoving cock inside you. The size caught you off guard, making you cry even louder. “Take it out!”, you yelled. He covered your mouth, leaning into your ear. “I can tell it’s your first time, my love”, he slightly smirked. “I felt your hymen break”. His thrusts were slow as he placed kisses onto your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, leaving bruises. 

Your body started to like his touch as your cunt became used to his cock. You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like it, but you liked how fucked up the situation was. “Your body is starting to relax. You don’t feel tense anymore”, L grunted. He let go of your mouth, kissing your soft lips. He bit your lower lip, drawing blood. “If you keep up this good behavior…I might just let you go”. His thrusts quickened as he felt your walls tighten around him. You moaned as his pace went faster, feeling your orgasm arriving. L rested his head beside yours, moaning into your ear. “After I’m done, I’ll make sure no one else sees your body but me”.

[avifaunaa]

these little regrets [ j.t. & s.s ]

Pre-Fic: Um. Hey. This is my first post on tumblr and have absolutely zero idea what I’m doing. Be gentle with me while I figure out the works of it.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jackie Taylor x Fem!reader x Shauna Shipman

Summary: Your university’s soccer team, the Yellowjackets, crash land in the middle of the wilderness and you must all learn to survive. Unfortunately, this means things get messy when everyone’s periods arrive and yours doesn’t. Especially when Jackie and Shauna learn the reason why.

Content Warnings: Buckle up, my first fic here is kind of dark: A very obvious hint of pregnancy but it is not inherently discussed at large, periods, a pre-established dubious situation ship ( r x j&s ), obsessive and manipulative behavior, non-con, predator and prey dynamics, praise and degradation ( r receiving ), vaginal fingering ( r receiving ), cunnilingus ( s receiving ), some aftercare

Word Count: 4.8k

men and minors DNI

The summer had started bleeding into fall and things were starting to get a little tense between the team. Nat was gone more often and returning with less — but Lottie insisted that they had enough to keep them all above water.

You weren’t so sure.

You were so nervous about the amount of food in the stores when you did the daily count — a job you’d been given by Shauna to do — and would return to her with your concerns.

Today she was in a bad mood, the knife stuck deep into the table and dripping blood into the same stain it had collected from in past months of use. She moved her gaze to you when you approached her, unreadable and detached.

But an eyebrow raised slightly, breaking the fortified stature of Shauna Shipman. She stood straight when you were only feet from her, the table keeping you both separated.

“You never look happy anymore,” you mentioned, breaking the ice as you glanced at the meat she had cut into sections. Rabbit this time — not large like the last one which meant less rations.

“Neither do you,” she replied, palms flattening on top of the surface to meet your gaze. “What’re we looking at?”

You swallowed, curling your fingers together in a locked embrace. “Not counting the rabbit you’re working on, we have the duck jerky left in five strips, two pouches of the berries, but they’ll need to be rationed with meals soon if we want to use them, some cut meats to cook, and three granola bars I found Krystal hoarding.”

“Where was she hiding them?” A dangerous twitch moved Shauna’s upper lip, her eyes getting a dark gleam.

You blushed. “She had them buried under a pile of — um - strips she’s using for her period. They were clean but —“

Shauna raised a hand, effectively silencing you to your great relief. You licked your cracked lips and unlocked your hands, rubbing your scraped up arm instead.

“Fine,” she finally sighed, pushing off the table. “I’ll ask Jackie to send Nat out again tonight. This won’t keep us for a week.”

“Okay,” you said, looking down and kicking your worn tennis shoe in the dirt. “I’m gonna go help Misty with the water bucket, but I’ll see you later.”

“Wait.” You look up before you can turn around, and see Shauna watching you carefully. “Are you cramping? Hungry? I can . . . Offer a couple of extra rations. But only if you’re quiet about it.”

You tug your lip between your teeth, cheeks starting to burn slightly. This was Shauna trying to care for you in the only way Shauna could, you supposed. She was the more emotionally conservative between her and Jackie when it came to you when you had grown close over the last year.

Her way of showing it had been acts of service, or being overprotective as a way to communicate her feelings to you. It didn’t fix that she didn’t open up to you in the same way that she did to Jackie, though.

“I should be . . . I should be okay. I don’t want to take anyone’s rations. Fairness and all,” you told her.

“I offered it because I think you need it more, not because it’s fair,” Shauna stated, pushing off the table completely and grabbing the shirt-turned hand wipe rag as she smeared the fresh blood off of her palms and onto it instead.

You wanted to deny her offer, but the look she gave you was a warning. You swallowed hard, feeling trapped by obligation to accept but drowning already in the guilt of knowing you’d get extra while your teammates starved a little more.

“I don’t want to make anyone mad.”

That earned her the tiniest of smiles from Shauna. “Oh, sweetheart,” she crooned, “you let me take care of that. Your periods are really bad from what I remember. You skipped classes an entire week once.”

“You remembered that?”

“Of course. Now — don’t worry about anything anyone says. Just take the extra food.”

Something about the offer felt terribly wrong but declining a second time would flame the already short fuse Shauna had these days.

“Okay,” you agreed, demure. You adverted your gaze again to the side. “Misty’ll be looking for me, so . . .” You trailed off.

“Sure.” A dismissal, but you felt her watching even as you turned and high tailed it away to find the curly haired blonde, heart racing in your chest as you made your escape.

You got worried when everyone seemed to sync up but your period managed to evade you.

You got scared when the vomiting throughout the day started.

You had been so careful — the party before the team had left for their big game. It was a booze filled night of entertainment and fun and sex. The guy was lost in your memory — some frat boy who crashed the party with his friends but managed to snag your attention briefly.

You woke up the next morning and left before he could so much as stir in the sheets. You had been careful — you assured that even in your drunken lustful haze, demanding the condom before anything else further.

But now here you are weeks later, recovering from a spell of nausea and feeling the world spinning beneath your feet. Your breakfast was gone on the forest floor.

“Bunny?”

Jackie’s footsteps were loud as she approached you, a frown marring her freckled features.

“Hey, Jax,” you said, wiping your mouth and straightening up before your body was ready. “What’s up?”

“I was coming to find you, actually,” she said, rubbing her palms down her pants. “Shauna and Lottie said that today’s rag cleaning day if — y’know.”

“I’m — okay,” you quickly, too quickly, agreed. “Um, I’ve been throwing mine away, though.”

Jackie blinked owlishly at her, then pursed her lips. “That’s a waste, don’t you think, Bunny? Have you been ripping all your clothes up the entire week?”

Fuck.

“Mine are really bad. Super heavy. You’ve seen the tampons I have to use, Jackie,” you shoot back, hoping she’ll drop the matter.

She doesn’t. But she does stray closer. “I haven’t seen you ripping your stuff up, though, now that I think about it. You’ve only got the three outfits left. Not a piece torn off of them.”

You had nothing to say, caught foolishly in your own lie too quickly for it to have grown. “I-“

“You’re not on your period, are you?” she asked, arms crossing, eyes darkening.

You didn’t answer, a panicked heat coursing through you as you looked anywhere but at her face. “Please don’t tell anyone. I — I don’t know what’s —“ you broke into tears.

There was silence as you broke down, before Jackie sighed. “Oh, Bun,” and stepped into your space to wrap her arms around you. Soft hands carded through your hair, and despite yourself you curled deeply into the embrace.

“I think I’m —“ you choked, a sob echoing through your shattered heart and battered body. You didn’t have it in you to say it lest it be true.

“Mm, I know.” Jackie’s chin rested on top of your shaking head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. But we’ve got to tell Shauna.”

“No!” You wailed, face burying deeper into the jacket that smelled so starkly like Jackie and home. “No, anyone but Shauna.”

“Listen to me.” Suddenly, your comfort was gone and those hands fisted your shoulders in type grip as Jackie forces you back and stared hard at you, “You lied to my face and lied by omission to Shauna by not telling her you fucked someone before we left. You know how she is, Bun.”

“She’ll hate me,” you spluttered, thinking of the fury that Shauna can express at times.

“Hate you? Doubtful. She’ll be so pissed. I’m so pissed. We gave you rules that might, didn’t we Bun?”

“I don’t — I don’t know,” you sniffled. You don’t remember much of that night — most of it drowned in drinks and loud music and Shauna and Jackie before they left you to your own devices like they sometimes did.

“That’s alright,” Jackie said, hand reaching up to pet your hair again, “but you’re still going to have to answer for breaking them. A broken window can’t fix itself.”

Your brain was fuzzy with confusion and desperation as Jackie spoke. Why would you be punished for a set of rules set for one night weeks ago that you don’t remember?

“You told me nothing was —“ you began, than wisely shut your mouth before it got you into real trouble.

“What?” she asked, lips pulling into a thin line as she eyed you. “We told you . . . What?”

“Nothing,” you whispered and instead try to lean forward to seek out her comfort despite the unease that overcame you tenfold.

“Okay.” She let you back in, soothing your tears and promising you things you should have known would never have happened — mercy.

You didn’t eat.

Jackie had stayed miraculously quiet the entire time when you both returned to the cabin, only offering Shauna that sly little smile of hers as greeting.

The look Shauna returned was nothing less than scolding, but you didn’t dare to ask what over.

Shauna set you up with a meal double the amount everyone else had. Marina made a noise of protest while Van questioned why you got more.

“Because the Wilderness allowed her so,” Lottie said in place of their butcher, quiet but presently watching with a curious look. “It wants her to have more — so she will.”

“Fuck that,” Tai said, glaring between you and Shauna, “that’s not gonna happen. We need this to last, Shipman. Remember?”

Shauna met her glare with a steely gaze that could make, apparently, even Taissia Turner back down ( but not without grumbling ).

Your stomach suddenly flipped into your throat as conversation rose around you, everyone finding it wise to drop the matter as though it never happened at all.

You played with the scraps of meat, pulling it apart and squeezing it between your fingers but not taking a single bite. The juice from them soaked your fingers with grease, leaving behind an oily sensation.

Jackie leaned over from where she sat close to you, lips brushing your ear, “Eat it, Bunny. You’re going to need it more than you think.”

Your eyes flicked upward, locking instantly with Shauna — who was across from you by Lottie, leaned into her as the other girl murmured something.

A glint — and she gestured to your meal with just a couple of fingers. Eat it, went unspoken, but was silently ordered.

You ate it slowly as your teammates came to a finish with their own, trying in vain to stall the inevitable. By the time you had finished it all under Jackie’s watchful gaze, everyone else had gone and gotten ready to bed down for the night and were chatting quietly amongst themselves.

“Bunny.”

Your attention focused on Shauna while you wiped your fingers slowly on your pants, wishing you had things like napkins.

Or space.

“Yeah?”

“Jackie told me something interesting earlier, before dinner,” she said quietly, leaning an elbow on her criss crossed knees and laying her chin upon her palm. “I’ve been asking Lottie what we should do.”

Your unease creeps back in like venomous snakes into a cradle, twisting your guts and tightening around you.

“Can we — please can we um, go outside?” you whispered, fingers making grooves into your the skin of your arms you hadn’t realized you’d wrapped around yourself.

“I think that would be best,” Lottie agreed, moving to stand first. “The Wilderness must be privy to this change.”

You had no idea what Lottie was talking about and you almost told her that you only wanted it to be you, Shauna, and Jackie, but you were silenced by Jackie wrapping her fingers around your wrist and squeezing.

The cabin had grown silent as the four of you got up and began moving to the door with a direction to outside. You refused to look at anyone, at anything, but your shoes — which you’ve become rather familiar with in the last few weeks.

Outside was colder than it was earlier in the day. The sun hadn’t completely set yet, but it was shaded behind the trees and no longer had warmth to offer.

Jackie didn’t let go of your wrist even when the four of you found a spot near Shauna’s makeshift butcher’s corner.

“So, Bunny,” Jackie started immediately, smiling like she was about to express something good, “we agreed to talk to Shauna.”

You shuffled closer, almost behind Jackie, clenching your fists in her jacket and closing your eyes. “Jackie, please.”

“Now, Bun,” Jackie said, tone losing some of its joy and taking a harder edge. “This is what happens, remember? You don’t get to be a slut and get away Scot free!”

A shallow breath escaped someone’s chest. You guessed Shauna, because Lottie was still next to her and eyeing you and Jackie thoughtfully but without much interest in the situation.

A laugh followed the breathy sound, “Jackie you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Jackie pouted, nose turning into your hair, “She was taking so long to tell you.”

“She’s being punished.”

“Yeah, and I’d like to move to the fun part of the punishment sometime tonight.”

“You’re being a brat,” Shauna warned, but it held no merit. It was amused, if anything, in the way that Shauna always found amusement in Jackie’s antics.

Jackie’s eyebrows fluttered, “Then give me what I want and I’ll be on my absolute best behavior.”

Shauna snorted but turned her entire focus to you now. Your relief at being forgotten went down the drain and was lost as she regarded you with an icy stare. “So, you just bend over for anyone — is that it? Take what’s give to you?”

“N-no—“

“Because,” Shauna interrupted, stepping closer, into your bubble as if it didn’t exist in the first place, “I could have sworn that Jackie and I told you to go home when we did that night. We trusted you to listen to us and I don’t know — keep your fucking head on?”

“I don’t remember—“

“We know,” Jackie soothed, petting you again. The interrogation — the nice and mean — it was keeping you from thinking clearly. “But there’s still a price to pay, unfortunately. Right Lottie?”

Lottie blinked, jolting from whatever thought scape she was in. “The Wilderness senses an imbalance,” she stated, her head swiveling to look out into the darkening forest, “and it demands it be restored willingly before it starts taking it from us instead.”

“I — how does that have anything —“ panic began to rise, and your voice started to raise, but a hand slapped over your mouth as Jackie reeled around and pressed herself against your back.

“Shut up,” Shauna told you, lip curling, “and listen to us for once, you stupid little thing. Can you do that? Can you listen?”

Trying not to cry, you nod shakily. Anything to stay alive.

“Good girl. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to let you go and you’re going to run from us, yeah? Let’s play a game of hide and seek.” Shauna grins now.

Jackie hummed against you, hand still across your mouth, “Shauna didn’t want to, but I’m making her give you until the moon is all the way up — when it’ll be at it’s brightest. I think it’s more fun that way. To see you trying to hide in the shadows.”

Shauna tilted her head, seeing you tremble. “When we catch you — and we will — the balance will be restored. Now Jackie is going to remove her hand, and you won’t scream because then they’ll know about our game and I’ll have to cut your time in half. Deal?”

What choice did you have? With a nod so shaky that it barely came through, Jackie released you from her hold. The four of you stood there for a moment, and you blinked away tears as Jackie purred,

“Run, Bunny.”

You darted off into the forest, escape and fears of what happens if they capture you keeping you from thinking about much else.

You’d been running for hours by the time the moon offers a harsh glow on the forest floor. You’ve ran through a river and tried your best to cover your tracks — but you knew too well that Jackie had been learning things from Nat lately.

It’s all to be used against you tonight.

You needed to find a hiding place and quickly — you may have a better chance of making it through if you were able to find somewhere to wait the rest of the night out and hope they passed you.

With a racing heart and a knowledge of the little time you had left, you sought out anywhere that was tightly packed but able to contain you even if uncomfortably.

Your answer was a fallen tree log, dug out as a nest by some animal long ago but since abandoned if the materials inside were to go by. You did your best to shuffle around and use the old shrubbery as a barrier to make it harder for them to spot you.

Time continued to pass by and now it was a terrible waiting game that you had no upper hand in. The energy you had spent playing it was exhausting and you were losing the effort to try and stay awake the longer you hid.

You were cold, too, and you recall Misty once telling one of the girls that falling asleep while exposed in the cold could easily kill you. You weren’t sure how much of an expert Misty was on matters of wilderness survival — but she had been right on a lot of it so far.

It didn’t take much longer for them to track you down.

They’d been quiet amongst one another, but they didn’t want to spook you if you were nearby. Jackie had ordered silence when she noticed how frantic your tracks became and she grinned at Shauna.

“Bunny found herself a hole somewhere.”

And so the search for the hole began, footsteps trying to be light as they sought you out in the dead of night when the moon shone at its brightest.

A red sneaker flashed in your peripheral vision — and —

Fingers curled around your ankle and jerked you out of your hiding spot — not gently — and Shauna was waiting to grab you by the hair as you fought them.

“Hey, Bunny,” she crooned, uncharacteristically soft.

Jackie shoved you down face first and the impact of your nose and forehead hitting the cold frozen floor had you seeing white.

Your head was pulled up again and when your vision cleared, it was Shauna who was there. “Sorry, pretty girl,” she said, sending a look over your shoulder, “We can count that little bump as points towards your punishment.”

You groaned, head swimming. “Don’t hurt me.”

Jackie laughed behind you. Your legs suddenly split open forcefully and you could feel someone settling behind you. “We’re not going to hurt you,” she promised. “As long as you tell us who bent you over and fucked you like a bitch in heat when you could’ve asked us like usual.”

“I don’t know.”

A deadly silence replied to your answer. Then your chin was grabbed roughly, neck twisting at an upward angle so that you had nowhere to go but Shauna — who appeared back to normal very quickly.

“You better know. You let him breed you like a common whore.”

You cried out when your pants were roughly jerked down your legs, exposing you to the cold air. Jackie breathed in when she saw you — staring for a moment.

“You’re going to want to tell her, Bunny,” Jackie finally said when your sobs weren’t enough to deter either of them, “or she may get really pissed.”

“Please, please! I promise I don’t know! I don’t remember so much of that night! I left when I woke up!”

Shauna’s grip remained iron tight as she watched you plead. Your tears were flowing at a rate she otherwise would be enraged to see — but it was her causing it. Her and Jackie. Nothing was more perfect than this moment.

“Okay, we believe you,” Shauna decided after letting you sob it out a few more seconds.

“L-let me go, please,” you whined, fingers digging into the frozen earth underneath you in an effort to gain some form of control. “The balance. It’s fine now. Please.”

Jackie laughed. “Yeah, that might be fixed, Bunny. But this is something else now. We’re going to reclaim what’s been taken from us.”

You closed your eyes, drawing your arm into you and burying your face in it to muffle the sobs as your panties disappeared next. With Jackie between your legs and forcing them to stay open and Shauna raking rough hands through your hair, you had no true way to escape.

“Next time,” Jackie starts as two fingers spread you open and find the shameful wetness there, “you may not be so inclined to seek things out that you already have.”

“Hey.” Fingers snapped in your face and Shauna tugged on your hair. You looked up at her and in that time she stuck her thumb between your lips. “You’re so fucking slutty that you couldn’t wait a day? You just took it from the first person who looked at you right?”

“No! No! I don’t know! I was sad!”

“I thought you couldn’t remember,” Jackie reminded you, nails digging into your ass. “Are you lying to us again?”

“No!” you squealed, trying to wiggle away but had nowhere to go. “I only meant — I do remember feeling sad! Because you left without me! Again!”

“So you slept with someone else?” she reiterates, nails digging into deeper.

“Stop!” You cried, overwhelmed and wanting this to end. They ignored you, awaiting your answer, “I did it because I’m tired of the mixed signals you’re giving me! I was sad, and needed to feel somethin’!”

Shauna growled low in her throat, grip tightening so hard it had you squealing again. She loosened it briefly, “So instead of being a good girl and coming to us with your feelings like you’re usually good at, you whore around?”

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed, beyond comprehension and unable to even clearly understand the situation anymore.

Jackie and Shauna shared a look between them that you missed — it held a satisfactory gleam that gave them endless pleasure.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll prove it,” Jackie cooed when she finally released her nails from your skin and let them drift back down.

“A-anything,” you whimpered, “please just don’t be angry anymore.”

“We’re going to take back what belongs to us,” Shauna told you, leaning down and brushing her chapped lips against yours. It was a tender kiss and your addled brain was fooled into the false sense of security.

It distracted you until two fingers pushing into your heat pulled you away, a gasp breaking from your lips and causing Shauna to chuckle deep against you.

“You were so wet already, so ready for me,” Jackie mentions, leaning her body across your back as her knees pumped in time with her fingers in your pussy. “I could be forgiven for thinking you didn’t want this.”

You went to answer, but the strangled noise you made is all you could offer as her fingers twisted and pushed. Her breath was hot and quick against the back of your neck as she worked you up roughly.

Shauna tapped your jaw with rapt energy. “If you want to come, you’re going to ensure I do as well,” she crooned as she unzipped her pants and worked them down. She stayed on her knees but drew your head close.

“You know how to please Shauna, Bunny,” Jackie murmured, teeth finding home in your neck briefly, then releasing, “so do it.”

You did as you were told and started nosing into Shauna’s thighs, tongue licking a stripe upward first — she needed her clit stimulated first in order to be receptive to anything else.

It was more difficult when Jackie’s pace kept getting rougher and she found it necessary to work in a third finger. You cried out against Shauna, making your displeasure known.

“You’ll take it,” Jackie said, kissing the bruise she left on your neck, “because you want to atone for your sins and this is how you do it. But you can cry. We don’t mind.”

Shauna encased you between her thighs when you started becoming a little shifty — something she’s done since the minute she had you in her and Jackie’s bed.

“Fucking — tongue inside,” Shauna ordered, now digging into your scalp. You did as she said, moving away from her clit and focusing on eating her out instead.

“Good fucking girl,” she gasped, pushing into your face, using it to ride against for more stimulation. “Yeah — you could’ve been doing this instead of —“ you curled your tongue, not wanting her to insult you further, “fuck!”

Unfortunately for you as Shauna’s pleasure increased, Jackie would increase yours along with it. She was grinding herself roughly against you, and her thumb had finally began to rub hard circles against your clit.

And then she found your g-spot. She felt it, stuttered in movement when you let out a noise of near ferocity, and began thrusting deeper in earnest.

It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before — even with them. Your emotions were plummeting but your body felt entirely too good for you to ask for a reprieve you know you wouldn’t get.

So you let yourself be thrown into the pleasure you were given so you wouldn’t be forced to hurt at the hands of the two women you thought you knew and loved.

Shauna stuttered above you when you dragged your teeth lightly across her, not having meant to. She came with a low groan, shuddering through it as you licked until she finally came down.

Jackie had stopped inside of you to watch Shauna — and though you couldn’t see it, her eyes were glazed over with adoration as she watched Shauna in bliss.

When Shauna pulled away from you and pulled up her pants, eyes glazed over, she tapped your chin again.

“Are you going to make a mistake that horrible again?”

You shook your head. The moonlight reflected the wetness that remained on your face and it meant everything to Jackie right now.

Shauna looked up at Jackie. “Make her come.”

Jackie began anew, more forceful in her fucking than she was previously. She was brutal in pace and in effort: using all of her willpower to send all your nerves into overdrive.

You were a mess under her, crying out to stop, for it to never end, for —

Jackie rubbed your clit once, twice, three times and with a painful shiver that racked your entire form, the orgasm raced through you like a tidal wave coming to devastate an entire city.

You sobbed through the power of it, unable to handle just how much jolting waves were spasming through your body.

Shauna put your head in her lap and ran her hands across your shaking form as you rode it out, Jackie unrelenting and sending you straight into another.

Eventually, however, she slowed her movements until she was still above you. You shivered beneath her despite your shaded body heat and you were choking on your emotions.

“We love you, you know,” Jackie whispered into your back, closing her eyes to bask in the moment. “We love you so much.”

“I didn’t want this,” you whispered, but you sought out their comfort and their gentleness as it was given. You needed to flee from their cruel brutality and be welcomed back into their warmth.

“We know,” she said, pulling out slowly. She pulled your pants up. “But you needed to learn this lesson and understand that every action has a reaction that fits.”

“You did really, really good,” Shauna said suddenly, lifting your face again to kiss you.

“So good. Our good girl once more,” Jackie added.

They let you lay there for a while, soothing your hurts that they know to be the cause of but unwilling to accept.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” Shauna was the one to slide you into her arms once you were too exhausted to cry — too drained to protest.

You tucked her face into her chest, knowing that this was the truth: they will never let you go.

When they returned to the cabin around dawn, Lottie was still awake. You were asleep in Shauna’s arms and had been for a while. They let you sleep.

Lottie stood from the porch when the two approached. She smiled at them.

“The balance has been restored.”

[cherryfyre]

Speed Dating, Figure Eight Style

The sun dipped low over Figure Eight, casting a golden hue over the sprawling lawn of the Cameron estate. The event—hosted by one of the Kooks’ most prominent families—was as absurdly extravagant as you’d expect: a speed-dating competition, Kook-style. The twist? It wasn’t just awkward small talk. Participants would be paired up at random and forced to complete a series of ridiculous couple’s challenges. The grand prize? Bragging rights, free dinner at The Pearl, and a bottle of Dom Pérignon.

Martini!Reader had no idea why she was here. Technically, she wasn’t even supposed to be. But Pope and JJ thought it would be hilarious to infiltrate the event. While they snuck into the catering tent to swipe hors d’oeuvres, you were left to fend for yourself in a sea of Kooks, feeling every bit the fish out of water.

That’s when you saw him: Rafe Cameron, standing by the check-in table, radiating smug entitlement in his crisp white polo and tailored khakis. His sharp jawline tightened when his eyes landed on you.

“Great,” he muttered, running a hand through his perfectly-coiffed hair.

“Trust me, I’m not thrilled either,” you shot back, folding your arms.

It turned out, through some cruel twist of fate—or maybe just Kelce’s bad handwriting—you and Rafe had been paired together.

“Let’s make one thing clear,” he said, stepping closer. His cologne was annoyingly intoxicating. “I’m only doing this to win. Don’t get in my way.”

“Likewise,” you snapped, squaring your shoulders. “Try not to screw it up.”

The First Challenge: “Newlywed Trivia”

The first event was a rapid-fire trivia game where couples had to answer questions about each other, despite having just met.

“Alright, Cameron,” you said, grabbing a clipboard. “Let’s make this quick. Favorite color?”

“Blue. Yours?”

“Green,” you lied, just to make it harder.

The game began, and to your frustration, Rafe was ridiculously good at guessing. He nailed your fake favorite color, guessed your favorite season (“Summer. You look like the type who likes sunburns”), and even got your dream vacation right (“Italy? That’s so basic.”).

Meanwhile, you struggled to read him.

“Favorite hobby?” you asked, scribbling.

“Winning,” he said, smirking.

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re stuck with me.”

Despite the bickering, you somehow scored the highest points, advancing to the next round.

The Second Challenge: “Obstacle Course”

The obstacle course was set up along the Cameron property, complete with water balloons, rope swings, and a three-legged race section.

“Try to keep up,” Rafe said as the whistle blew.

“Oh, please. Don’t trip over your ego,” you shot back.

It was chaotic from the start. Rafe was fast—annoyingly so—but you were nimble, darting under ropes and dodging water balloons like a pro. When it came time for the three-legged race, things got… complicated.

“Stop pulling!” you yelled, nearly falling as Rafe’s long legs dragged you forward.

“Stop being slow!”

By some miracle (and a lot of yelling), you crossed the finish line first, collapsing into the grass, breathing hard.

“Not bad, Pogue,” Rafe admitted grudgingly, offering you a hand.

“Not bad yourself… for a Kook,” you replied, taking it.

The Final Challenge: “Trust Falls”

The last challenge was designed to test trust. One partner would be blindfolded and guided through a maze by the other.

“You trust me?” Rafe asked, tying the blindfold over your eyes.

“About as far as I can throw you,” you muttered.

“Cute. Let’s go.”

Surprisingly, Rafe’s guidance was steady, his voice calm as he navigated you through the maze. “Left. No, your other left. Watch the step. There you go.”

When you finally reached the end and removed the blindfold, you were face-to-face with Rafe, his smirk replaced with something softer.

“Not bad,” you said, brushing off your hands.

“You weren’t completely useless either,” he replied, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

By the end of the event, you and Rafe had somehow managed to win, much to everyone’s shock—and your own. The cheers and applause were almost drowned out by your mutual bickering as you accepted the prize.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you said, clutching the Dom Pérignon.

“Good,” Rafe replied, leaning in closer. “Because I definitely still don’t like you.”

But the way his eyes lingered on yours told a different story….

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Dark Side

Tom Riddle X Reader

Tom is aware you have come from a school where the dark arts are taught. He knows you can help him and he knows just how to convince you

Warnings: slight manipulation, dark arts

The restricted section of the library was quiet. Tom watched you scan the shelves, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You were so focused, so intent on finding something in these dusty old shelves. He knew what you were searching for, even if you didn’t know it yourself yet. Power. Knowledge that Hogwarts would never hand over to you willingly.

He let the silence stretch before stepping forward, making sure his footsteps were just loud enough to be heard. Predictably, you spun around, masking the flicker of surprise in your eyes almost as quickly as it appeared. A good sign. You were sharp, quicker than most, but Tom wasn’t worried about that. If anything, it made this more interesting.

"Looking for something forbidden, are we?" he murmured, keeping his voice low, watching you like a hawk. He saw the slight shift in your expression, the hint of wariness. Perfect. You were already on guard, already trying to figure him out. Good, he thought. Be curious. That’ll make this so much easier.

“Tom,” you replied, your tone carefully neutral. “Didn’t expect anyone else here.”

He smiled, just enough to put you off balance. “Ah, yes. You wouldn’t,” he replied smoothly, moving in closer, careful to make his steps calm, unthreatening. He had a knack for knowing when to press in and when to pull back, a skill that had already gotten him access to more knowledge than any other student his age. This was no different.

As he approached, he let his gaze drift to the book you’d picked up, one you’d clearly grabbed on impulse. The wrong choice, but he’d let you realize that on your own. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, amusement in his voice. "Interesting choice,” he said lightly. “But I’d think someone with your background would be interested in… other texts.”

He saw the faint flicker of unease in your eyes, the way you adjusted your grip on the book. So, he thought with a flash of satisfaction, it’s true. Your dark arts training didn’t fade as quickly as Dumbledore had hoped. He watched your expression carefully, knowing that his mention of your past would strike a nerve. It always did. People who came from the darker schools always felt that edge of suspicion in places like Hogwarts, the feeling of being an outsider, of hiding something.

“Maybe I am,” you replied, cool but not defensive. Not bad, he thought. You were trying to keep him at a distance, trying to keep control of the conversation. But you wouldn’t last long. He’d made sure of that.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” he said, a hint of intrigue in his voice. He let his tone stay casual, almost amused, but not enough to hide the curiosity in his eyes. He’d learned early on that interest was a powerful tool; people always responded to the thrill of being noticed. “But Hogwarts might not have what you’re used to. Not openly, anyway.” He watched you closely, seeing the way his words drew you in. “Still, you know the things taught where you are from aren’t forgotten here. If anything, they’re just… hidden better.”

The way you studied him then, the hint of resistance, it was clear you weren’t going to give in easily. He almost smirked. Good, he thought, his pulse quickening. It’s always more interesting when they resist.

“And why are you so interested in my old curriculum?” you asked, your voice still light, but he could hear the guarded edge.

He leaned back a little, letting his posture go easy, almost dismissive, knowing how much more effective that would be than anything intense. “Oh, I’m not interested in that,” he said, shrugging slightly. “I’m interested in you.” He let that sink in, watching as the idea took root. “A student who actually knows what magic can do beyond the harmless charms and tricks we’re taught here. I’d think you know spells and techniques that others couldn’t even imagine.” He paused, just long enough to watch your expression shift. “Which, naturally, would make you quite valuable.”

Valuable. That word always worked. It was true, after all, though not in the way you might have thought. Tom’s mind was already racing, already calculating how he might use what you knew, what you dark school had taught you. And the best part was that you wanted this power, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourself. That hunger—it was just under the surface, buried behind all the polite airs and restraint you wore. He’d seen it in the way you looked at certain spells in class, the ones that made the others shrink back in fear. He knew exactly how to draw that side of you out.

“Valuable?” You raised an eyebrow, keeping your tone casual. “And you think you’re the one to show me how?”

He almost laughed. Predictable, he thought. You wanted to believe you could see through him, that you weren’t impressed. But he could see it in your eyes, that flicker of curiosity. He tilted his head, letting his gaze sharpen, his expression just serious enough to make you feel like he was seeing something no one else could. “I think you have a potential that most at this school couldn’t even comprehend. Power that few would understand.” He paused, as if measuring his words carefully. “You could accomplish so much, if only you'd... let go of certain reservations.”

He watched as your expression shifted, and he knew he’d struck a chord. Yes, he thought, his pulse quickening again. Let that sink in. It was always the first step. Plant the seed, make them doubt their limitations. After that, it was only a matter of time before they came to him willingly, before they were willing to do anything he suggested.

“I know you don’t believe in the rules, not really,” he continued, his voice calm and coaxing. “And Hogwarts isn’t giving you what you need. Not truly. They’re holding you back, but you’re far too intelligent to let the Ministry’s silly morals stand in your way.”

He could almost see the thoughts racing in your mind, the way you were weighing his words, considering the possibility of everything he was offering. Yes, he thought, pleased. Think about it. Let it fester.

[sativariddle]

⤷ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢.

other chapters here.

SUMMARY ┆ ↴

the name riddle always made your blood run cold, the malicious surname of a malicious man tasting like poison on your tongue. so when dumbledore declared that mattheo riddle would be attending hogwarts, you felt a chill of dread settle over the great hall

when? why? how could dumbledore allow this? the child of his greatest enemy now strode through the towering doors of the great hall, his presence steeped in an air of menace and cold, unspoken cruelty.

how could someone as ruthless as a slytherin ever find love? it seemed impossible—mattheo was a stranger to the very idea. but everything changes when he meets you. though in his world, love isn’t the light, joyful feeling it’s supposed to be. for him, love means accepting you, flaws and all.

WARNINGS ┆mentions of; torture, mental trauma, physical trauma, violence, characters death, drug and alcohol addiction, sexual themes, parent neglect

"excuse me, i'm just going to slip between you two—oh, sorry! i didn't mean to step on your foot."

apologies spilled from your lips, repeating endlessly like a stuck record as you made your way through the crowd of wide-eyed first years. the hogwarts express was a chaotic mess of moving bodies and luggage, and you were desperate to reach the hufflepuff compartment. "coming through, sorry!"

each compartment was filled.

you just hoped your friends had managed to find one.

as you hurried down the busy train, you passed the blue and bronze of ravenclaw's section before reaching the scarlet and gold of gryffindor. your eyes scanned the compartments and immediately landed on the familiar faces of harry, ron, and hermione.

a gentle smile tugged at your glossed lips as you pulled open the gryffindor compartment door, causing harry, ron, and hermione to look up, their eyes settling on the bubbly hufflepuff.

harry gave them a look that clearly said they would continue the conversation later, as it wasn't over yet.

hermione swiveled to face you, her smile mirroring your own cheerful expression. "good summer?" she inquired, her eyebrows raising expectantly.

"amazing!" you exclaimed, your eyes shining with delight. "the books you sent were wonderful - i couldn't stop reading them! mum said she never would have guessed i'd put the books down, i carried them everywhere." you chattered happily, hermione nodding along with every word, her smile growing wider.

"glad you did," hermione replied cheekily, turning to harry and ron. "told you she would appreciate them more than you two."

ron grumbled something under his breath, his arms crossing slightly.

harry, however, wasn't paying attention to ron's muttering. instead, he turned towards you, his expression curious.

"have you got a clue on what you're going to write for the hogwarts daily Insight?" harry asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as soon as the words left his mouth.

‘hogwarts daily insight’ was an idea you had begged dumbledore to approve for an entire four years. you argued it was only fair to keep people informed about what went on within the castle walls.

after all, witches and wizards were naturally curious—many had children attending hogwarts, so why shouldn’t they know what was happening inside?

not everyone liked the idea, of course.

some professors warned dumbledore it could lead to another rita skeeter, stirring up gossip and trouble.

but dumbledore, in his wisdom, saw potential in your vision. he trusted you completely. if anyone could handle the responsibility of such a project, it was you—no question about it.

your goal was never to create drama or make anyone feel bad. you simply reported what happened at hogwarts and submitted your articles to dumbledore.

if he deemed them unfit for publication, they stayed unpublished. but if he believed your work provided meaningful insight, he allowed it to be shared. so far, not a single one of your articles had been denied.

harry had been skeptical when he first heard hermione praising your article. but his doubts disappeared when you received requests from witches and wizards asking for stories about him. instead of running with the idea, you asked harry directly if he was comfortable with it.

when he said he wasn’t, you immediately dropped the subject.

he respected you for that—and from then on, he trusted you to handle his announcements, knowing your work would reach the entire school via breakfast readings of the daily mail.

as your articles grew in popularity, you noticed a shift in how people treated you.

some students tried to cozy up to you, hoping to get their own feature in your work, but you weren't interested in catering to petty drama or personal agendas.

'hogwarts daily insight' was the opposite of that—an honest look at life at the school. you refused to let it become anything less.

fan mail began pouring in, filled with admiration for your intelligence and the originality of your idea.

many readers expressed how much they wished you had started it sooner. you had, of course—but convincing dumbledore had taken years of persistence.

"not at the moment, harry," you say with a gentle laugh, amused by his eagerness. "we've only just boarded the train. writing about trying to find my friends' compartment isn't exactly daily insight material, is it?"

he glanced over at ron and hermione, both shooting him warning glares that clearly said, ‘don’t even think about it.’

but if there was one thing certain about the boy who lived, it was his stubbornness.

“have you heard?”

your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, clearly indicating you hadn't heard anything. "heard of what?" you asked softly, a slight frown pulling at your lips, curiosity evident in your voice.

harry glanced past you to the compartment door, double-checking that no one was lurking outside, before turning back to you.

“malfoy being a death eater—”

before he could finish, ron kicked his leg, and hermione shook her head sharply, a silent warning.

your eyes widened in shock. “what—?” you looked over at ron and hermione, their stern glares directed at harry only adding weight to his claim. “are… are you sure? that’s a serious accusation, harry—”

“—and i want you to write about it in your article, to warn the witches and wizards in the castle and—”

before harry could finish, hermione smacked him on the head with the folded article she’d been holding.

“you, of all people, should know what it feels like to be the subject of false accusations—” hermione started, but harry cut her off with a sharp glare through his round glasses, clearly recalling the events of fourth year and rita skeeter’s lies.

“It’s not false!” harry snapped.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “look, i need to find my friends. harry, we’ll talk about this later.”

harry gave you a small, appreciative nod. hermione, meanwhile, shook her head in exasperation but ultimately said nothing more. ron shrugged as if to say, what can you do?

turning on your heel, you opened the compartment door and headed down the corridor, making your way toward the hufflepuff section in search of your friends.

spotting one of them, you slid open the door to the compartment.

genevieve turned toward you with a grin, her sleek black hair swaying over her back. “well, if it isn’t my favorite little journalist,” she teased, laughing when you rolled your eyes playfully. “nice to see you too.”

“where are hannah, ernie, and justin?” you questioned, settling into the seat across from her.

“they’re looking for you. thought you might’ve missed the train,” she said, leaning back in her seat.

you nodded, smiling faintly.

the great hall was silent.

usually, the hall buzzed with the typical teenage drama: excited whispers about daily prophet headlines, eager discussions about upcoming classes, and the usual gossip that filled any gathering of young witches and wizards.

but today... today was different.

the great hall, once vibrant and sparkling, now seemed covered in a dreary, grey pallor, as if the air itself was heavy with unseen dread.

the usual joyful chatter and laughter was replaced by an oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional hushed whisper.

tense.

"now, as you know, each of you was searched upon your arrival tonight. you have a right to know why."

shivers ran down your spine, making your hufflepuff robes feel impossibly drafty despite their warmth.

goosebumps prickled along your neck and arms, and you unconsciously hugged yourself tighter, pulling the thick yellow fabric closer around your shoulders.

your quill and parchment were tucked under your arm, just in case you needed to jot something down for your article.

"once, there was a young man who, like you, sat in this very hall. he walked these castle corridors and slept beneath its roof. to the world, he seemed like any other student."

only a fool would dare say the dark lord's name aloud, and dumbledore was known for his foolishly brilliant mind. he didn't shy away from speaking the name that made grown wizards tremble: “his name? tom riddle.”

dumbledore looked at you, then at the quill and parchment tucked under your arm. you immediately spread it out in front of you, quill poised, ready to take notes on dumbledore's words.

"today, of course, the world knows him by a different name."

the great hall hung heavy with a silence so profound that you could have sworn you heard the faintest rustle of your own partchment echo as you gulped down a nervous lump in your throat.

“help will always be given at hogwarts to those who need it,” dumbledore intoned solemnly, his twinkling eyes scanning the room. “and with that, let us welcome our new student, mattheo riddle.”

riddle.

as the murmurs and whispers around the house tables grew louder and more insistent, the massive oak doors of the great hall swung open dramatically, creaking on their hinges and revealing the figure that had silenced the entire castle.

entered mattheo riddle, his presence electrifying the silence.

his eyes, shockingly brown and cold as glass, were fixed unblinkingly on dumbledore, something darker flickering in their depths.

why? how could dumbledore let this happen?

your eyes involuntarily widened as mattheo began his purposeful walk down the aisle, then darted quickly to your friends - hermione's analytical gaze fixed intently on the new arrival, ron's jaw slightly agape, and harry's expression a combination of confusion and something that oddly resembled recognition.

their eyes bulged, jaws slack, as they stared in disbelief at mattheo's confident stride.

dumbledore had allowed him to enter with barely a nod, as if the most notorious dark wizard since grindelwald wasn't his own father, walking down the aisle like he owned the place, his tanned face marred by ominous scars visible even beneath the hood of his cloak.

as mattheo approached, dumbledore didn't even extend his hand towards the sorting hat; instead, it quicly bellowed "SLYTHERIN!"

"did you see his face? it was covered in scratches—"

"—i didn't think the dark lord would name his son mattheo, it makes no sense."

"people say he’s already hexed a first year—"

"he’s kind of cute though—"

"—you’ve lost your mind, hannah—"

you let out a quiet sigh. it’s not that you’re upset with your friends for spending the entire evening talking about the dark lord’s son, but their chatter left you with hardly any time to write. they had been going on and on, leaving you no room to retreat into your parchment.

it seemed like everyone in the castle was on edge about mattheo’s arrival, openly whispering or speculating about him.

as long as your paths didn’t cross, everything would be fine. you really didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

then again, the idea of a teenage boy hurting someone felt ridiculous to you. it was such a cruel, unkind thought that you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

you stood up from the couch, feeling restless. the hufflepuff common room was busier than usual, packed with students eager to gossip about the events of the day.

all you wanted was a moment of quiet—somewhere to clear your mind away from the noise and chatter.

your friends didn’t even notice when you got up. they were too caught up in their hushed conversation, deep in thought and whispers. you didn’t want to interrupt them, so you left quietly without saying a word.

you made a point to say a quick ‘hello’ to anyone you passed in the halls.

it was a small gesture, but you believed it mattered. at a place like hogwarts, where some students seemed to drift through their days without close friends, a simple greeting might remind them they weren’t invisible—that they weren’t alone.

you could tell by their forced smiles and averted gazes that they meant well, but today just wasn't their day. their greetings were laced with uncomfortable tension, but you knew it wasn't personal - they were just having one of those days.

you reassured yourself that it was perfectly fine - after all, everyone has off days. people are human, with all their complexities and mood swings. you shrugged it off.

heading towards the library seemed like the safest option since you doubted there was anyone in there at the moment. even if there were, it’s a library—they have to be quiet.

the castle corridors were relatively empty as you walked, the few students you encountered either strolling with a friend or being escorted by a professor.

the sound of your footsteps echoed softly against the ancient stone walls, broken only by the occasional murmur of conversation or rustle of robes.

your steps quickened, eager to blend into the shadows rather than stand out as an easy target. being a hufflepuff somehow marked you as 'less than' in their eyes, and you dreaded the inevitable jabs or sneers that often came with walking alone.

the library—a place of comfort. no noise, just the comforting hum of people around you, either reading a textbook or scribbling on some notes.

it truly was a good place to get some peace and quiet.

as you settled into a chair tucked away in the corner of the library, you pulled your legs under the cold wood of the table.

your fingers absently drummed against the cover of your textbook as you tried to focus. but then your eyes flicked upward, and across the vast, quiet library, you saw him—riddle.

he stood in the middle of the library, flanked by a group of familiar slytherins: pansy parkinson, blaise zabini, theodore nott, and draco malfoy.

mattheo lounged in a chair, a cigarette dangling negligently between his fingers, smoke lazily curling around him as if he were the ruler of the room. his expression was arrogant, almost daring, as if he were inviting a challenge.

you frowned slightly, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. even from across the room, your thoughts began to spiral.

how on earth was he getting away with smoking in a place where ‘no smoking’ signs were practically everywhere?

was everyone else oblivious to the faint trail of smoke curling upward, or were you the only one who even noticed?

as if sensing your gaze, mattheo suddenly looked up, his dark eyes scanning the room.

blaise was speaking beside him, but it didn’t seem to register—his attention had already drifted.

then, his eyes found you.

snake meets badger.

an annoyed smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he locked his gaze onto yours. he didn’t look away, his expression almost daring, like he’d caught you in a private moment you hadn’t intended to share.

mattheo shook his head quietly, clearly not in the slightest amused by the way your gaze snapped back down to your parchment paper, only for you to risk a glance back up again.

you silently cursed yourself for your staring problem—a habit you thought you’d buried long ago. ever since that first-year incident, when you’d stared at snape for too long and he made an example of you in front of the entire class.

“fragile little hufflepuff,” he’d sneered, leaving you humiliated. you’d vowed to fix it after that, but old habits had a funny way of creeping back.

across the room, mattheo leaned closer to his friends, whispering something that made them snicker. whatever he said, it clearly wasn’t meant to stay between them, because within moments, the group of slytherins began to move—slowly straying from their spot and making their way toward you.

mattheo's hands are stuck in the pockets of his robes, his head tilted to the side as he watched you forcefully write down nonsense, pretending as if you had been doing it the whole time, which you should’ve been.

mattheo and his slytherin friends approach the oak table you are sitting at, and they circle you like a pack of hyenas surrounding an antelope.

they all smile wide and mocking, except for mattheo and draco, whose expressions are dark and calculating as they size you up. the others, fueled by their slytherin pride, circle around you like vultures, their eyes roving over your form.

mattheo is the first to break the silence, his voice dripping with annoyance as he flicks his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out under the heel of his dirty shoes.

"looks like we got ourselves here a little rita skeeter," he drawls, running his teeth along his bottom teeth. "fuck are you doin’ snoopin' around." you flinch as he leans in, his breath hot and stale against your face.

you knew the slytherins would inform him about your daily article—they despised it more than anyone. they’d tear it up right in front of you or ‘accidentally’ spill something on your notes whenever you were too focused to notice them lurking nearby.

above all, they knew you were too kind-hearted to write anything terrible about them in your article.

his friends continue to laugh beside him, leaning on each other for support as they all keep their predatory gazes locked on you.

you can feel the weight of their judgment as they circle you.

“i wasn’t snooping.” you tried to sound more clear, but you were so scared that your voice slightly cracked, looking at all of them through your eyelashes. “i just came here for some peace and quiet. i hadn’t got a clue you’d lot be in here, ‘m sorry—very, very sorry—”

mattheo raises an eyebrow at your cracking voice; he found it so fucking annoying. the slytherins around him chuckle, some of them sharing amused glances.

your apology seems to only fuel their desire to mess with you.

“oh, you’re sorry, are you?” he asks, his voice dripping with mockery. “how sorry are you?”

you knew they were messing with you, taking advantage of your kindness. but you couldn’t come back with a good response because all you saw were teenagers scared of their parents—at the end of the day—everyone in the castle are just kids and their first time living.

grabbing the parchment and quill you brought, you tuck it under your arm as you get up off the wooden chair. “i’m very sorry, i’ll be going now—”

as you begin to turn away, mattheo swiftly steps in front of you, blocking your path and forcing you to stop. the other slytheirns chuckle under their breaths, amused at the sight of you trapped.

his tall frame looming over you as he drawled, "whoa, whoa, hold on a second." his hand reached out, grabbing your parchment’s that were bunched up together and sending it clattering to the floor. "i don't think you're sorry enough just yet."

you didn’t want to start a problem; you hated the thought of going to sleep with a target on your back. you had to make sure you were good with everyone. “look, i really don’t want any problems. i’m really sorry.”

you dropped to your knees, desperately trying to gather the scattered parchments, your face burning with humiliation as you willed yourself not to cry, hoping that they would just leave you alone.

mattheo rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by your apologies.

“sorry ‘s not gonna cut it," he snaps. "you’ve interrupted our discussion. you think a simple ‘sorry’ is gonna make up for it?”

his slytherin friends didn’t utter a single word, only adding a few laughs here and there, but you could tell they were scared shitless of mattheo.

but then again, who wouldn’t be?

you didn’t think twice and started walking away.

mattheo reaches out lightning fast, his hand gripping your wrist and yanking you back roughly.

“oh, no you don’t,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. “not going anywhere just yet.”

going back and forth made the inside of your stomach twist; you just wanted to be back in the safety of your own dorm walls. “can you guys just leave me alone? i’ll be on my way, swear to you.”

mattheo looks down at you, his grip on your wrist tightening.

“temper, temper,” he mocks, his voice dripping with mockery. “you owe me an apology.”

you didn’t have to be told twice. if he felt he needed an apology, you’d happily give it to him. you hated being on people’s bad side. “i’m sorry,” you say.

mattheo arches an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your apology. “that’s it?” he quips, his grip on your wrist not letting up. “you think i’m gonna let you go with a little easly ‘i’m sorry’? you can do better than that.”

you nodded, taking this as help rather than insulting. “i’m sorry for interrupting you,” you try again.

mattheo lets out an exaggerated sigh, his eyes rolling. "yeah, i heard you say that," he sneers. "but ‘s not what you said, it's about the delivery. try again, and make it sound like you mean it."

you scrunched your eyebrows together since you had really meant it the two other times.

apologizing was something you’d always do willingly—if you ever upset or offended someone, even by accident, you felt it was only right to make amends.

“i’m very deeply sorry for intruding on you and your friends,” you said, your voice earnest. “i shouldn’t have come down to the library.”

mattheo chuckles, his eyes raking over you. "better," he hums, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. "now get the fuck out of here before i change my mind. you’re also infuriating as fuck, shit pisses me off."

[sa1nts-and-s1nners]

Remember, I hate you (pt.1)

Rohan x Savannah

content: tension, banter, close proximity etc (tell me if i missed anything)

pt.2

word count: 660

a/n: This is my first fic (that I'm publicly publishing) so if you have any constructive feedback I won't mind. We didn't get Savannah's pov in tgg so I wanted to explore how she would view Rohan.

Savannah took out a pin from her fancy updo when she heard a knock at her door. I thought he wasn't coming today

She walked slowly towards the door, letting the other person on the other side wait in anticipation. It's what he deserves anyway she thought to herself, ridding the image of his body close to hers the last time he'd shown up at her door

Not a lot of things excited Savannah. The occasional challenge with Gigi or mind games with her half brother were interesting and being the queen of the court, commanding the game with the ball was her greatest joy—until the injury took that away from her

but this? this was a hell lot more than exciting

"Hello, love" Rohan greeted her as she opened the door "Almost thought you weren't going to open the door"

"Almost considered it"

"You wound me," he said dramatically, gliding inside with a sly smile. "What made you change your mind?"

"Thought I could use some help with this" she gestured towards her hair that was riddled with bobby pins and god knows what else. A wolfish smile took over his face, his real smile savannah realised with a start, immediately ignoring the effect that it had on her

"Is the unconquerable Savannah Grayson bested by a few pins?" He asked, joining her at vanity as she sat down. God, she could hear the grin in his voice. She distantly wondered if it was a bad idea letting him into her room. Probably, but at the moment she didn't care. She craved a distraction, and he was exactly that—handsome, perilous, and intriguingly unpredictable. They'd made a deal anyway. A few late night meetings wasn't going to change their goals. They were made to betray each other in the end and nothing could be done to change that course. It made this moment all the more sweeter.

He started gently picking out pins one by one, being absolutely careless with the way his hand grazed her neck. He brushed his hand through her hair, separating the bigger knots before picking up the brush. Savannah tried to keep her breathing in control and avoided arching into his touch. She couldn't lose control like she did before ever again. This was a punishment and her damnation in the sweetest form.

He carefully divided her hair into sections, brushing each one with the practiced ease of someone who had done this countless times before. Yet, the focused intensity in his eyes made it feel like he was experiencing it anew. He was gentle, as if he was afraid of her hurting her. Which was ridiculous, he'd never held back before. She met his eyes in the mirror

"Rohan?" She'd learnt to read him just as well he'd learnt to read her and she knew the effect of saying his name would have on him. She loved it

"Hm?"

"Truth or Dare?"

He paused for a second before answering "Truth"

"Why did you come here tonight?" He'd told her that he had to stop visiting her because it was no longer a calculated risk for him. Savannah had no idea what he meant by that. He lived for risks and breaking the rules so his sudden change in behaviour was baffling but she didn’t dare ask him to explain—she couldn’t let him think she cared. But curiosity gnawed at her insides

"Can I switch to Dare?"

"No"

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as his voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe I didn’t want to be alone tonight." The closeness of his lips sent a shiver down her spine, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken intent.

His answer caught her off guard, and just as she was about to press him for more, he shifted the moment with a simple, loaded question: "Truth or Dare?"

She saw the challenge in his eyes and replied "Dare"

[vodika-vibes]

I saw that you asked for crosshair requests, and I had an idea I figured I'd run by you in case it gave you any inspiration. I was thinking about a kind of friends to loves situation with crosshair and his casual flirting suggesting a friends with benefits situation, but the reader says no despite clearly being attracted to him, and when pressed confesses to being afraid of falling in love with him if they hook up. idk if that's smth you want to write, just hope you focus on stuff you want to do and don't burn yourself out :)

We Could Be More

Summary: Summary: You and Crosshair are friends, only the emotions are a little…more. You’re not really surprised when Crosshair comes to you with a proposition. Friends with benefits would make sense, it’s not as if the Empire will allow you more. You’re both surprised when you turn him down.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1577

Warnings: Discussions of a friends with benefits type situation, some adult discussion, Crosshair demands an explanation when the Reader says no, discussion of the lack of clone rights

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to the idea that you had. I had fun writing it, and I'm so glad that people are feeding my sudden, and surprising, crosshair obsession. RIP me.

You enjoy your job.

You’d enjoy it more if you had your own workshop, or even a workspace that wasn’t a small, unused, section of the ship.

Hell, at this point, you’d be happy with having a chair and a desk so you don’t have to sit on the floor while repairing the mouse droids. You’d also accept a cushion, or a thick blanket.

But no.

You have to sit on the floor with little mouse droids zipping around you while you make sure they work properly.

Still, you like working with droids. They’re easy. Easier than your co-workers.

Well, easier than most of your co-workers.

You flip the mouse droid back on its wheels, and it zooms around you, chattering happily. “Alright, you’re all set,” You say to the droid, “Watch out for more Admirals.”

The little droid chatters and then zooms out the tunnel that leads to your…hallway(?) and you sigh and stretch your arms over your head. Maybe if you send a very polite email to your supervisor you can get a desk…or at least a proper cushion.

“You know,” You yelp at the voice coming from the doorway, “I think you like those droids more than anyone else on this ship, kitten.”

“Don’t do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack,” You say as you press your hand over your pounding heart. And then you drop your hand and glance up at the much taller man, “I thought you were on a mission, Cross?”

“I was, and now I’m not. Funny how that happens.”

“Ooh, you think you're funny, don’t you?” You say with an amused grin on your lips.

“Funnier than most of the people on this ship, yeah.” Crosshair leans against the wall and slides down so he’s sitting next to you, his knees raised and his arms draped over his knees, “Busy morning?”

“Isn’t it always?” You ask with a sigh, “One of the mouse droids was in the way when a member of the Imperial Guard came though, and nearly crushed him to pieces.” You gesture to the side, “It’s over there, somewhere.”

“Bad luck.”

“Tell me about it.” You say with a sigh, “It’s going to take me days to rebuild it.”

“Hm.” Crosshair hums noncommittally. “What’s the Imperial Guard doing here?”

“Hell if I know. You think anyone tells me anything?” You ask with a grin.

“Nah, but I know the mouse droids pick up audio.” Crosshair replies.

“Crosshair, are you implying that I’m spying on my coworkers, because that would be very, very wrong of me.”

“Uh-huh.”

You keep his gaze for a moment, before a grin cracks your face, “Okay, apparently the Emperor’s ship needed repairs, some kind of space debris.” You shrug, “I dunno, I don’t work on ships, I work on droids.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they could fit a ship in your hallway.”

“Excuse you, this is my office, sir.”

“And you can’t even afford a chair, or a desk. Shame.”

You laugh and bump him with your shoulder, “Rude, maybe I like sitting on the floor.”

“Do you?”

“No. I think my butt is numb.”

Crosshair’s eyes glitter with mischief, “Want me to massage it for you?”

“I don’t think you’ve earned butt touching privileges.” You counter with a sniff.

“Shame. You have a really nice one. Very round and squeezable.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a massage. It sounds like you just want to grope me.”

He shrugs, “Same thing.”

“Very different.” You correct him with a laugh.

“Not the way I do it.”

“Oh? You have a lot of practice then?”

“Well, I might be a little out of practice. I haven’t had the chance to practice my skills since the Republic fell.” Crosshair admits.

“Aww, poor thing. How ever will you survive?” You tease him lightly as a new mouse droid limps in and you grab it and flip it immediately.

“I have a pretty good idea,” Crosshair counters as he leans back against the wall, his gaze locked on you.

You hum thoughtfully as you examine the wheels.

You and Crosshair are friends, because that’s all the Empire will allow. It’s illegal for Crosshair to have relations with people. And actual relationships are out of the question. Which is a shame, you’d be interested in seeing where this, whatever it might be, could go if given the chance.

You pull a piece of metal out from the wheel well, and then set the droid back on its wheels, and it scurries away. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Crosshair stares at you, a small smirk on his lips. “I have a…proposition, of sorts, kitten.”

You arch a single brow, “Go ahead.”

His smirk grows, “When was the last time you got laid?”

Your face burns, “I’m not answering that.”

“Come on, kitten, it’s me.”

You fold your arms, “If you tease me even once-”

“I would never.”

“Yes, you will.” You grumble. Crosshair flashes, what he probably thinks is, an angelic look, and you huff and avert your eyes. “...fine, I’ve never actually-”

A broad grin crosses his face, “Kitten, are you a virgin?”

You scowl at him, “You heard me.”

He looks absolutely delighted, and you consider kicking him in the shin for half a minute. “That makes my proposition even better.”

“If you’re about to tease me-”

“How do you feel about a friends with benefits type situation?” Crosshair interrupts you.

Your words die on your tongue, and you blink at him, “...what.”

“You heard me.”

“I did, I’m just trying to process.” You admit, you hold up a finger, “I just told you that I’m a virgin, and you want a friends with benefits situationship. With me.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Just making sure I heard you correctly.”

“You did.”

You frown at him, rolling the idea around in your mind.

It’s not that you don’t want. Because you do. More than you’re ever going to put into words. Crosshair is so handsome and while he’s not kind, he is good. Good in a way that he doesn’t seem to see in himself.

You could love him, if you gave yourself the chance.

And you can’t risk that. You can’t risk him.

So, hating yourself a little, you focus your attention on him, “I’m flattered, Cross.” You say slowly, “But I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?” His eyes narrow at you, “Because I’m a clone.”

“Of course not. That’s never been important to me.”

“Then what? You’re not attracted enough? I’m not nice enough?”

“Cross-”

“You didn’t flat-out refuse, you said it’s a terrible idea. Why is it a terrible idea?” Crosshair demands.

“Because.”

“Because isn’t an answer.”

“Because I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with you, and you’ll get hurt.” You say honestly.

Crosshair pauses, “...You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“I’m not dumb, Crosshair. I know it’s illegal for you to have sex with anyone. And it’s even more illegal for you to enter a relationship with someone. And the Empire isn’t the Republic, they will kill you before they’ll punish me.”

He leans back, his gaze calculating, “What if I said that I didn’t care?”

You frown at him, “I care, that’s enough for me.”

He leans in so that his face is only a few inches away from your own, “What if the Empire wasn’t a concern?”

You lean in as well, so that you're even closer, “You can’t bring down the Empire, Crosshair, you’re one man.”

“I could try, if you wanted me to.”

Your gaze softens, “As strong and broad as your shoulders are, that weight would still crush you, Cross.”

He searches your face for a moment, “What if we defected?”

“Please tell me you don’t want to defect simply so you can get laid?”

“I’m not dumb, it’s only a matter of time before they decommission me.” Crosshair says, “The Clones are expendable.”

Your hands curl into fists, your nails digging into the palms of your hands, “Cross-”

“So what do you say? If we defect, would you be willing to consider a friends with benefits relationship?”

“You’re impossible.”

“Hey, if I’m about to risk my life by running away from the largest government entity in the galaxy, I’d like to know if there are some perks on the other side.”

“Oh my god,” You push your hands through your hair, “Okay, fine. Yes. If we defected, and I knew you weren’t going to get yourself killed simply because you wanted to get your dick wet, then yes, I would agree to a friends with benefits relationship.”

He leans back, “Deal. We leave tonight.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Is it a good plan?”

Crosshair just smirks, “How many mouse droids can you call back right now?”

“...all of them, why?”

“Call them back, we’re going to rig them to blow up.”

Your jaw drops, “My babies-”

He rolls his eyes, “You have a better suggestion?”

“...no…”

“Great. Then get started. I’m going to come and get you tonight. We’re going to escape on one of the smaller ships.” Crosshair says.

“And go where?”

“Pabu.”

“I have questions.”

“My batch mates live there.”

“...I have even more questions.”

“They can wait.” Crosshair leans over to you and lightly kisses your temple, “You have work to do, kitten. I’ll see you tonight.”

And then Crosshair is gone, and you’re left feeling like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

[wardingshout]

Hi!! I just wanted to say that the way you draw characters/use colors in your art is an absolute dream, I've never seen anything prettier. Do you have a specific way you pick/use colors, or any advice for coloring? You inspire my art so much, and I'd love to learn how to color like you someday :)

@braventheninth gonna reply to both of you here hope that's cool!

aaaah thank you so much I'm really honoured to hear you both like it and that it inspires you anon !! ;v; I don't actually know much about art theory-wise, aside from very basic colour theory that I always forget so most of my choices are pretty instinctual and based on my own preferences!

i can do my best to explain my thought process though! uuh it is. lots of text though just as a warning.

one thing I tend to do with almost everything is pick what kind of colour mood I'm going for! usually, since I love orange and also warm feelings, I'll aim for some kind of warm tone and when doing that I try to slide every colour I pick towards the warm end of the colour wheel. Blacks and whites are especially good for this! As a general thing I almost fully avoid picking any colours along those edges of the colour picker

instead I'll move all my colour choices a nudge into the square for the colours towards the tone I want (in this case warm) (the white is there be warm too I just forgor to type it).

and since I wanted warm colours for this drawing I desaturated the blue of Brain's pants so it would fit in better. I once heard someone say you should always pick one main colour and saturate fully and the further away from it on the colour wheel you got, the more desaturated your colours should be. I don't really do that bc I like my colours to stay bright but I do keep it in mind to mess around with sometimes.

I'm not always great at keeping this consistent, but I think it usually makes for pretty decent results... Other things I keep in mind are that when I pick the colour for my shadows I always make a little slide on the colour wheel towards the opposite tone of what I based my main colours on. oh and picking the right base colours ?? no clue tbh I always put every colour on it's own layer and then I spend a couple minutes adjusting them all seperately until I feel like they go well enough together. I usually avoid the bottom to right section of the square fully, bc I find they often get oversaturated and muddy, but that's just a personal preference I guess.

also since I enjoy the way coloured lineart works for my stuff I tend to mess around with layer settings for my lineart! usually the end results will look something like this:

where the clipped layer is clipped on to my colours folder. lineart is the only place where I just use plain black since I'm gonna change it with these layer settings later. it often still shows up as black for darker colours (and especially blues?) but it keeps a slightly coloured edge that I enjoy. if the blacks of the end result don't look good, messing around with the layer opacity usually changes stuff up. sometimes I'll also erase part of the lineart from one of the layers as a way to adjust.

I think what might be more relevant though, is the way I've been picking my colours for most of my recent posts though, which is. very differently. and also quite dependant on the fact I've been drawing on Tegaki! Tegaki has a limited colour palette that looks like this

only the 6 colour slots next to the bottom greyscale can be replaced by your own colours. As shown here I only bothered to add something to half of them; mainly the beige-ish colour I like to use for whites, a brown that I never use bc it's ugly with everything else here and a purple? that I only Think I added. both the brown and purple suffer from being too desaturated for the rest of the palette, which makes them stand out in a pretty bad way when used tbh.

I have. absolutely no idea what I'm doing with colours on this site though ngl. I think it just automatically pushes you to be a little more chaotic with the choices? a simple example is the green I picked for Link's tunic here doesn't really have any good, easy choice for shading imo. most of the "darker" green tones just feel more saturated, and it sticks out pretty bad as a shading colour for the more muted green I picked for the tunic. Removing those, the choice was either a mossy green or a blue.

and while the mossy green is still green, it feels far too dark a shading colour compared to what I picked as shading for the rest of the drawing. The blue has the added bonus of being closer to the purple I used for the black-ish parts.

I think my point is that it's really easy to push yourself to make some fun new choices when the tools you're using limit you a bit in a way? Looking at it now, I'm also seeing that the hands were lined with very different colours. I remember just thinking that I couldn't be bothered to find the exact same purple I used for the first hand so I just went with the first thing I landed on, that being a pink. But now I think it works pretty well since the one hand is lifted a bit more into the light and that goes well for a bright colour like pink. happy accidents and all that right ?

I am fully just yapping at this point 🧍 but the point still goes for most things drawn on this site.

like there was no reason to add the blues or reds or pinks to the heather here but I only had so many purple shades to work with. it might be less realistic but I don't think it would've come out as well if I had stuck to only the purple shades from my reference photo.

This ended up way way too long and I have no idea if any of it made sense or was helpful at all, but it was surprisingly fun to reflect on my own choices a bit more! especially since I often just do whatever I feel like I think it's helpful to sit back and consider what instinct actually tells me it's the right thing to do.

in an attempt to do something actually helpful uuh I recommend messing around with 2 specific things and switching around with them a bit; namely limited colour palettes (like 1 or 2 main tones imo) and then just going absolutely ham and just using whatever colour for everything (make them orange! put some blue and purple on the bark! leaves can be blue if they want to! (go more ham than I did tbh))

I think just messing around does so much for making some kind of sense of colours even without Knowing how they work. it's easy to say we should all study, but personally I'm pretty bad at it and it's more fun to just trial and error it... errors do happen a lot though omg do they happen, but that's helpful for figuring stuff out too!

[nothing-tolose]

All Because I Liked A Girl.

Part 2.

Warning: death threats, panic attack (?), lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: still kinda short anyway but yeah here it is. english isn't my first language so pls pls i hope u guys can understand t____t love u guys sm xoxo

Part 1.

🇵🇸 Daily click.

You keep your phone on screen after you saw those comments on school's blog. You couldn't tell what's happening right now, too many comments made you so hard to search the problem. You bring that thing to everywhere; kitchen, living room, porch, or even to the bathroom.

It's been two hours since you woke up and you haven't showered yet. You were too focused on your school's blog. You sit on your dining chair with a cup of water in front of you, fingers still scrolling and searching.

'Why there's so much bad comments towards me? Why do people keep mentioning Ellie and Anne in between my name?'

You keep asking the same question in your head. You have no idea. Because, oh really, what the fuck is happening right now? You didn't even do anything wrong before!

And you stopped scrolling when you saw Anne's post.

11 hours ago

@annel1se-torres

oh.. i think.. people should be know about a girl who just stole someone's girlfriend, yeah? been hiding this for months but i guess today is the right time to tell you all. aaanddd this isn't about a gossip at all since it was happened to me:)

i would never understand why did she still can smile so brightly after she stole my gf, oops, i mean.. my ex. sorry my bad ;(

there's no girls supporting girls when the one have NO SHAME 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

anyway, have a good night everyone! <3

You froze. You figured out that her post was the problem of all those bad comments, and that post finally answered your curiosity.

Who doesn't know about Anne, though? Everyone knew her as an 'IT GIRL' or something like that on your school. She was dated with Ellie back then and broke up 5 months ago. Everyone always praising her like she's the perfect one, no one could replace her. Good grades, good looking, good personality. Oh, she got them all.

You were confused. It was 5 months ago, you started talking with Ellie 3 months ago, and started dating with her a month after that. There's a little big gap between their relationship with yours, right? Why did she bring up about that and saying that you stole Ellie?

Did she really talking about you? Or you were just overanalyzing? Absolutely not. She haven't been in relationship after her break up with Ellie. If the post wasn't about you and Ellie, then who?

People in her comments section were shading you and even mentioning YOUR NAME.

@bracchiosoreuzz

I THINK I KNOW WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT :0 her name starts with * right?

@annel1se-torres replied

@brachhiosoreuzz girl i know you're smart but shh 🤫

@butter-cheese777

i fucking agree w you anne, no girls supporting girls when the one have NOOO SHAAAMEEE FOR STEALING SOMEONE'S GIRLFRIEND!

@rainawastinghertime

lmfao, she's ugly tho why did ellie accept her to be her girlfriend? ugh she's not worthy to be compared with you, girl

@77-s18

ugly bitch always steal everything

@plhrmc

she should be dead fr i don't care what anyone says

@dont-lookat-m33 replied

@plhrmc hey delete that, you're going too far

@dont-lookat-m33

are you sure that she stole ellie from you? i mean, they started dating like around three months after your break up. think again, anne. im on your side if they were dating a week after the break up. she's already getting a death threat because of your post. not everything should be about you though.

@77-s18 replied

@dont-lookat-m33 guys it's her!!! use your real account you loser XD

You shouldn't have seen those comments, you should've just see the post. Those comments were worst than the first you saw before. The way Anne replied their comments, and didn't even care about the others. What's her actual problem with you? You both were never interacting before. All you know is Anne's post was absolutely a lie because you didn't even care abour her or thinking about her when you talking to Ellie for the first time until you dating with her.

It was your first time getting really really bad comments and death threats. You were definitely scared. Firstly they said they'll spit on you on Monday morning if you show up, and now they wishing you dead.

You can't stop scrolling and reading the comments, it gets worse. God, they made you scared to death. Your body starts to shaking, your hands too. You hold your tears.

Your phone buzzed when you were about to see more comments on Anne's post. Lauren calls you again.

"Hey, I just found the–"

"Lau, I.." You couldn't talk, words suddenly disappeared. Lauren can hear your breath, and you were panting. "I saw those comments. They–"

Lauren went silent, she took a deep breath, "Would you close the blog right now? Please?" Now she sounds more softer than the last call you had with her.

You nod slightly.

You swear to God, you can't hold your tears anymore. You were too scared, scared of what will happen next. What if they really spit on you? What if they give you a disgusting stare on you? And what if—

Then you cried.

You hear Lauren's voice from the call, "I'll be there in five minutes. Just sit there where you are and don't go to somewhere else." And she hang up.

Of course you're not going to anywhere. Your feet were limp, you couldn't do anything except crying.

Your phone screen was on, you can see the notifications on the screen there.

messages request from ssalxxxx

god i really hope you the worst

she's dating with you because she just wanted to make anne jealous

poor girl

messages request from qwrtxxxx

ellie was never happy with you and anne is better than you, girlie

i'll be waiting for your funeral 💘

You shut your eyes, you don't want to see it. But hey, remember that curiosity killed the cat.

messages from els <33

babe are you okay??

taglist: @backedbeansh

[spenglersweetheart]

IDEA IDEA IDEA

In the second movie, reader joins the ghostbusters again after they disbanded in the first movie and it seems everyone forgot how capable they actually are and the attitude they can have when catching ghosts

:0 oooh i can do this

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

You Forgot How Capable I Was

there's definitely a reader but this is all platonic!

WARNINGS : none!

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU WERE MORE THAN HAPPY TO BE BACK WITH YOUR buddies working again. You were happy that the Ghostbusters were officially back together, back to working and catching ghosts. You were getting sick and tired of the teaching job that you had. You didn't mind teaching kids, you loved it. But sometimes, that was exhausting. So much more exhausting than catching ghosts.

But, there was something definitely off when you started back. You could barely help anyone. Or, the others wouldn't let you help them.

Whenever there was a call, they wanted you to stay behind. You didn't know the reason for this. The first time they banded, you were allowed to call on calls with them. Well, at least you could file the samples. Until that was pretty much taken away. So, sometimes you were stuck with Janine. And that wasn't a bad thing.

But you missed the adrenaline of ghostbusting. So why wouldn't they let you go with them?

There had been a call somewhere on 42nd. They four were pretty much three now. Peter had caught the flu and he couldn't go out on the bust with them. The fact that you had to beg and plead for you to join them kind of hurt, but at least you got to go on this one.

It was a bookstore. It was closed for the day because of the weird things that had been going on in there. It was pretty huge, and you had suggested to split up so that you guys could cover more ground. They pretty much looked at you like you were crazy, but they eventually agreed.

You covered one part of the bookstore. You happened to sense something on your PKE meter when you passed a bookshelf. You check in between the horror section. There it was.

"Guys," you say into your radio, "I found it, I'm gonna hold it off."

"Wait until we get there," Egon told you.

"By the time you guys get here it'll go away," you sigh, turning on the proton back.

"Y / N ..."

"Egon, I got it," you grumble, before shooting the ghost.

You weren't listening to them. Not after they pretty much forgot that you used to be a Ghostbuster, too. You keep the ghost stunned. You manage to glance behind the steam, spotting Ray on the other side of the aisle.

"Ray, I got it," you told him, bring the trap over.

You're calm. It's the three others that are slightly freaking out over you. You couldn't believe that they did that. You didn't know what had gotten into them. So, you had to prove to them.

Ray slides the ghost trap over, and you actually put it in the trap. All by yourself. Without any of the others' help.

Egon and Winston made it over to you not too long after you put the ghost in.

"You did it," Winston said to you.

You look behind you. "Yeah, of course I did," you replied, "I've known how to do this. You guys just forgot how capable I was."

You pretty much push past them, knowing that this would probably be your last bust in a while.

"We're sorry," you hear Egon's voice say.

You turn back around. "Why did you guys keep me from helping?" You ask, "I've done this just as long as you guys have. I was so happy to finally be together again as a brand. As a family. And you guys just ... I dunno."

"We were worried," Ray admitted, "Because we know how much you liked that job as a teacher. We didn't want something to happen to you. Especially because those kids love you."

You frowned. That was actually a sweet gesture. And you knew that you couldn't be mad at them forever. "Wait ... Really?"

"Really," Winston told you, "We didn't want their favorite teacher getting hurt."

"Well, that's very sweet of you guys. But, I will be fine. I have you guys. You wouldn't let anything happen to me," you explain to them, "And I wouldn't let anything happen to myself."

The other three were quiet for a while. Maybe keeping you from doing this kind of job was the wrong decision for them. You were actually a great addition to the team, and they loved having you.

"So, am I back on the team?" You ask.

Ray gives you a nod. "Welcome back to the team, Y / N."

[m1dnyt3-w0lf]

Good Puppy Part 5

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

⚠️WARNING: NSFW IMPLICATIONS⚠️

Summary: Awkward

Breakfast was awkward. Pretending to love Miguel was one thing. Pretending to love Miguel after grinding on him and then getting off to the thought of him was a whole other issue! You swore your cheeks were in a permanent blush since that moment. You did your best to keep your attention on your family, but your mind kept wandering.

The grip of his hand.

The ragged breathing.

The desperate tone.

You wanted it to happen again.

“Junebug, dear, are you listening?” Your mother’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You look up from your plate of pancakes to your mother. Everyone’s attention was on you.

“Oh, sorry, I zoned out. What happened?” You ask, feeling your cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“The twins had the bright idea to camp outside! We’re going to make it a family thing!” Your mother recounted excitedly. “Will you come shopping with us while the men set everything up here?”

“Sure!” You reply with a smile. Time away from Miguel sounded like a godsend. Maybe then your mind wouldn’t be so horny.

“Here,” Miguel rumbled as he handed you his card, “I’ll pay for it.”

He has a black card?! You thought as you tried not to drop your jaw. You've known him for how long, and he never told you?! Why was he showing it off now?!

Was he trying to impress your family?!

“Oh, no, Miguel, we can’t ask that of you.” Your father says. Miguel only smiles. He looks so good when he smiles…

“I’m offering from my own free will.” He says coolly, gently taking your hand and placing the card in it. “Please allow me to show my gratitude for your hospitality” His eyes slid from your father to you, his eyes staring into yours intensely. “And for gifting me such a beautiful soul to love and be loved by.” A collection of “awe” filled the air.

You have never wanted to kiss someone so bad.

“Get yourself a fruit bowl, amor.” He says casually, eyes still holding your gaze. You manage to nod your head.

“Okay.”

“Can I get myself one, too?” Sammy asks.

“Sammy!” Your mother scolds.

“What? It was just a—”

“No.” Miguel interrupts curtly, never even glancing her way. Your cheeks were burning at this point.

It’s fake-it’s fake-it’s fake-it’s fake. You chanted in your head. It felt like you had to remind yourself a lot about that recently.

You were first to look away from the shared eye contact. Any longer, and you would've jumped him. You see Miguel turn away in your periphery. You clear your throat.

“So, when do we leave?”

“Junie, I will not ask again. Get the watermelon.” Your mother said sternly. Her voice sliced through your mindless fog and had your back stiffening. She only called you that when you were in trouble.

“Sorry, mom!” You hurried off for the produce section. You have been nothing but distracted since you got to the store. No matter how hard you tried, your mind seemed to trail back to this morning. You swore your mind was torturing you. It was like you were an addict experiencing withdrawal despite only having a taste. You groaned softly and rubbed at your eyes.

Focus, dammit. You mentally scolded yourself. You took a deep breath and began your tireless search for the juiciest watermelon in the bunch. Once found, you hurried back to where you last saw your family. You frown as you begin in a slow circle before picking a direction to hurry off to. One thing you hated about grocery shopping was always losing everyone whenever you went to do something else. You won't lie. It was quite annoying to have to go through. The endless up and down of the aisles, looking like a crazed person as you feverishly searched. You groan and take your phone out, only to pause at the message on your screen. A message from Miguel.

'We need to talk when you get back'

Was he discovered? Was he not able to continue this charade? Oh gods, was he going to talk about—

“You got the watermelon!” You were thrown out of your thoughts when Maggie took the watermelon out of your hold. You quickly pocket your phone.

“Oh, um, yeah.” You walk with her through the aisles. She gives you a look.

“You doing okay there?” She asks. You look at her and see the concern knitting her eyebrows together. You offer a smile.

“I’m fine.” You tell her. She looked unconvinced.

“Junie, I love you, but you’re such a terrible liar.” She says.

Say that to my relationship with Miguel. You thought before it gave you pause. Wait, no, what relationship?

“Junie?” Maggie tries again. Her hand was on your arm, both of you halting by the toilet paper. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise.” You say then sigh. “It’s just…”

“Just?” Maggie pressed. You huff.

“Miguel wants to talk to me about something.” You tell her. It felt nice to be able to talk about something about your fake relationship with Miguel. You pretended you didn’t have to remind yourself of that fact. “I’m not sure what it is, but I’m really worried about it.”

“Oh, Junie.” Maggie pulled you in for a hug. “I doubt it’s anything bad. Miguel loves you!”

“I don’t know—” She’s quick to brush you off.

“Please, you can see it clearly on his face and the way he looks at you! I’m surprised he could even keep his hands off you.” She says with a giggle. You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Maggie, stop.” You cover your cheeks.

“I’m serious!” Her voice comes out in a hushed tone. “I swear sometimes it feels like he’s undressing you with his eyes!”

“Maggie!” You gasped, your face red as a tomato. You gave her a light smack on her arm. She laughs.

“I’m serious! Really, don’t sweat it. He loves you. We all know it.” Maggie smiles, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Now, let's get back to mom before she blows her top.” You both giggle and hurry away.

Miguel stared at his phone as if willing you to respond back to him. He can’t keep up the charade. He couldn’t keep pretending to be in love with you.

Not while being in love with you.

He wasn’t sure how you’d react to his confession, nor was he sure if you’d share feelings. Since that morning, you’ve plagued his mine. He’ll admit, not in the most innocent ways, but he still couldn’t deny it. He really did love you. He didn’t know why it took him so long to figure it out, or why it took you grinding on his dick to figure it out, but he wasn’t about to go any longer without calling you his.

“You alright there, son?” Your father asked him. Miguel looked up from his phone and put it away. He shot your father a charming smile.

“Of course, just missing my girl is all.” My girl. It felt so right on his tongue. Just like how he hoped you felt-shock, your dad was right there! Miguel was quick to force his thoughts clean.

“I wish I could say it gets easier with time.” Your father said with a laugh, clapping a hand on Miguel’s shoulder and leading him to the backyard. “But I miss my wife every time I don’t see her.”

“Even while sleeping?” Miguel asks.

“Not at all, I dream of her in my sleep.” He sighs, making Miguel chuckle. “I am forever grateful I met her.”

“That much, huh?” Miguel asks him. Your father nods.

“Just as much as you love our Junebug.” He says. Miguel flusters a bit. Was he that obvious?

“I just hope they know.” Miguel says. Your father chuckled.

“Nothing like just saying ‘I love you.’” Your dad tells him as they rejoined Pete and the kids, who were busy setting up the tents. Miguel was surprised at how simple Your father put it. But was it that easy? Did you love him back? Or was all your blushing and hints just part of the charade? He really hoped it wasn't.

Despite wanting to talk to Miguel as soon as possible, your family somehow kept you both separate from each other. The most you were able to do was give him sparing glances as you passed by each other or met each other's eyes from across the yard. Dinner was a definite no. However, Miguel had quickly cut up his food, so his left hand was free to lay on your thigh and gently caress it with his thumb. The action left you so heated and surprisingly comforted. He wouldn't do that if what he needed to talk about wasn't good, right? You tried to focus on that thought rather than the darker thoughts that filled your mind.

Your mother had ushered everyone outside after dinner where your father had built and lit a fire. Maggie brought out the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. The younger kids cheered. Everyone took their places around the fire. Everyone was throwing jokes and stories, laughing, and having a good time. It didn’t take long for you to forget about everything. You found yourself laughing and jumping in with your own stories, unaware of the gaze Miguel was giving you. You gasped and turned to him suddenly, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Remember Brad?!” You asked with a laugh. The very name had him rolling his eyes.

“Don’t remind me. I still don’t know what you saw in him.” Miguel huffed.

“Who’s Brad?” Sammy asks with interest.

“Oh, he was my—” You cut yourself off. Shit, you forgot. How the hell are you going to talk about your ex?!

“Their boyfriend before me.” Miguel answers with ease. “Before they knew I loved them. Worst three months of my life.”

“You never told me you had someone before Miguel!” Maggie gasped. You chuckled a bit nervously.

“To be fair, it was nothing serious.”

“Nothing about that man was serious. I’m surprised he even had a job, what with his lack of responsibility and his tendency to slack off. Really, it was a godsend when they broke up. I was able to sweep my love off their feet and show them exactly how they should be treated.” Miguel scoffed. There was something strange about his tone.

“Now, Miguel, you aren’t still jealous of their ex, are you?” Thomas joked. You looked from your brother to Miguel.

“Is that true?” You ask. Miguel clears his throat and averts his gaze.

“‘Course not. I’ve got you, don’t I?” Miguel mumbled. You couldn’t help but smile. Whether this was fake or not, it was real enough for you. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“My big grumpy man.” You whisper, earning yourself a dust of pink on his cheeks and a soft smile.

“I’m not that grumpy, am I?” He whispered back, his tone playful.

“Not to me.” You say, gazing up into his eyes as you did so. Something flickered in his eyes.

“Get a room!” Thomas called, followed by a chorus from the rest of your family. You and Miguel chuckle.

“Maybe we will!” You call out, standing. Miguel was quick to follow. You waved off your family as Miguel led you to the tent you were both supposed to share. He pulled the flap back to allow you in, crawling in after you. You laughed.

“Can you believe them? I swear they’re all-Miguel?” You turned to see him looking a bit more somber.

“Amor, this is our chance to talk.” He says quietly. Your blood runs cold.

“Wh-what is it?” You ask, spluttering slightly at the sudden change of mood.

“It’s about us fake dating.” Miguel says, a pained expression on his face. “I can’t do it.”

His words were like a slap in the face. If you weren’t already sitting, you would have staggered. You felt your heart crack and break, each piece cutting your chest open like a shard of glass. You blinked at him as if he were a hallucination.

“What?” You hated how broken you sounded. Miguel physically winced and took your hand in his. His once warm hand now felt cold as ice to you. You tried to slip away, but he held strong.

“Amor, listen to me first.” He pleaded, his own voice sounding broken. “I can’t pretend to date you because I love you.”

Finale

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[kismetconstellations]

@sockdooe I first encountered this supposed explanation in the comments section of a fanfiction, so it is to be taken with a grain of salt, but I read that Shiro's design was primarily based on what the showrunners thought "looked cool". This includes the prosthetic grafted onto his person by his captors, the scar across his face, and the shock of white fringe in his otherwise naturally dark hair. And, I won't lie, his design serves its purpose. Shiro immediately draws the eye, and not just because of his usual placement front and center in the standard team line up.

It's reasonable for the sort of space soldier, G.I. Joe type of character the staff intended Shiro to be to have these sorts of physical characteristics.

It's also completely reasonable in a Sci-Fi/Action show for a villain as menacing and ruthless as Sendak to have a similarly distinct, eye-catching design. Such features as a sinister, gleaming, red bionic eye, and massive prosthetic arm powered by a core of glowing, magical electric energy pulsing in a line from shoulder to forearm stand out, are easily memorable, and make him instantly recognizable as a really Bad Guy.

The idea of Shiro being a sort of "light, heroic mirror" to Sendak, which the show introduced and continued to attempt to enforce all the way up to Sendak's death, sits incredibly uneasily with me, however. As I've made explicit several times, before.

Content Warning for discussion of sexual assault/rape.

We're shown the recurrent imagery of Sendak looming over and behind an incapacitated Shiro.

Shiro's instinctive response to seeing Sendak heading toward him is to back away out of fear before steeling himself and resolving to fight, if only to protect the Castle and an unconscious Lance.

The very first thing that Shiro says to Sendak is, "You're not getting in", to which Sendak replies, "Yes. I am".

Coran suggests that the Galra might keep him and Hunk as, "some sort of creepy pet to play with how they please", in an appeal to Shay and Rax for assistance concealing their presence on the Balmera.

There's genuine contempt in Shiro's voice when he asks Sendak, "What do you want?", prior to his torture at Sendak's hands.

Sendak delivers a stomach-churning gloating little speech after torturing Shiro via electric shock.

And, Rolo refers to Sendak as a, "real nasty bugger", a term that has an exceptionally crude colloquial meaning.

Now, maybe I'm a cynical weirdo who is reading far too deeply into this, and connecting dots that aren't there. But...

Shiro bears a much stronger resemblance to Berserk's Guts than the Takashi Shirogane from the original Go Lion! that he's named after. Guts is a famous survivor of childhood sexual abuse, having been sold by his adoptive father and purchased for use as a sex slave by an ugly hulking pederast.

There were obvious Neon Genesis Evangelion fans working on this show, and Rei Ayanami, the character that Shiro's story seems to reference with the sheer excess of clones created using his DNA, is also a victim of sexual abuse.

(There's even, arguably, influence taken from The Legend of the Blue Wolves, a relatively obscure yaoi OVA largely set at a military facility which trains soldiers and pilots for combat missions in deep space. It features an extended scene with a virtual flight simulator, and one of the two male leads is-- wouldn't you know it? Raped by an ugly hulking monster.)

Correlation does not imply causation, and perhaps the similarities are entirely superficial, and we're not meant to think too hard about them.

Yet, with the amount of scrutiny that a series as utterly wholesome and innocuous as Bluey is constantly under, I cannot buy for a minute that a series Netflix gave a TV Y7 rating to didn't undergo some level of screening to ensure that its content was appropriate for the intended child audience. Someone had to have asked the staff if bugger was the term they meant to use, aware of the disturbing, far less than child-friendly implications, and was met with a resounding confirmation.

Beyond that, extended proximity to even an imprisoned and inanimate Sendak sends Shiro spiraling into a psychological break down.

Shiro's intensely traumatic experiences in captivity, which his brain seems to have largely repressed in order to protect him ("It's all a blur.") would, by themselves, be enough to convince him that he's been broken and reshaped into something monstrous. His bodily autonomy was, unquestionably, brutally violated, and his innately altruistic, self-sacrificing nature was violently challenged when he was forced to kill or be killed for his captors' entertainment. His right arm was taken from him and replaced with a weapon, and he has the blood of who knows just how many innocents on his hands. He was, indeed, broken down in an attempt to reform him into the Galra Empire's "greatest weapon", and likely very much wars with himself over what he had to do to ensure his own survival, believing himself to be a monster.

What really stands out to me, though, is that this intense, primal terror and the accompanying feelings of "brokenness" and "monstrousness" only surface around Sendak. Despite also being associated with and direct causes of his trauma, neither Haggar nor Zarkon rattle Shiro to his core the way Sendak does.

Neither of them are insistent on drilling into Shiro's head how "broken" he supposedly is, as Sendak is shown doing over and over again. Including taunting Shiro over the non-consensual modifications to his body.

Harboring a deep sense of shame, and viewing themselves as something dirty, ugly, disgusting, broken, or even monstrous is an experience common among survivors of sexual abuse.

Having Shiro's physical condition repeatedly mirror his personal tormentor's would be sick and twisted enough.

Adding the context of rape or sexual abuse to Shiro's torment makes the creative decision to intentionally model his arm after his abuser's outright sadistic.

No one deserves to have a constant physical reminder of their abuser and rapist permanently attached to their person. And, attempting to paint Shiro as a "heroic mirror" to Sendak fails entirely when Shiro doesn't so much as get to best Sendak in combat once.

All of the points you've raised about the function and structure of prosthetics are amazing, informative, and highly appreciated. (The comment about Shiro's abominable floating arm looking like it wouldn't be able to support the weight of a grocery bag makes me laugh.) Sadly, there's a faction of the fanbase who are all too quick to fetishize that arm, like everything else surface-level about Shiro. I've seen a number of fics where its ability to be propelled a great distance with a single thought is used to pleasure a partner while Shiro, himself, is in a different room, where the arm is equipped with a vibrating function for use as a sex toy, and, of course, where the thickness of its fingers is sexualized for... the same reason the bulge in the crotch of Shiro's pants is.

(I beg this fandom to stop reducing this man to a seme stereotype because of his physical build and height. Nothing in his personality suggests that he would be anything even approximating that cursed archetype. Let him be a pillow princess, for God's sake, like he deserves.)

This reply took me forever, and I am sincerely sorry about that. I hope you find something worthwhile in this haphazard collection of thoughts.

And, "Sendick" is how I'm going to be mentally referring to that creep from now on.