#mmmm chemicals

[peterlorres21stcentury]

Der Verlorene (1951)

A little appreciation for the set design of Dr. Rothe's laboratory. From my first viewing I was instantly drawn to how this looks and feels like an actual biology lab (and I should know, having spent many years working in them). I can practically smell the wood and paint of this place, and the mix of ethanol, glycerin, resin, solvent, stains, glue, blood, cigarettes or any other volatiles they happen to be working with that day. This is not your typical movie mad science of colorful bubbling flasks and random equipment of uncertain function, but a real space where actual experiments are conducted.

I dunno. This feels intensely familiar to me, somehow.

[lipgloss3ater]

just got detention for the next two days erm

[erinwantstowrite]

erin,,, I’m craving a jacket potato with the fluffiest insides, with butter and baked beans and cheese that goes melty…. mmmmmmmmmm (yes I am british how did you know)

i had to google what a jacket potato is and it's just a loaded baked potato- however this is the first time i don't immediately hate the term british people use for smth so congratulations, that's kind of a cute thing to call it

now i want a baked potato so bad...

i do, unfortunately, have to send you to prison for putting beans on your baked potato. i'm so sorry mae mae but that is a criminal offense. you need to be stopped before you hurt any other foods with beans

culinary offense so bad you're getting life in prison, no chance of parole!! in fact, you're getting put in isolation. quarantined for the rest of your life

[monscrow]

why is mcr trending......did i miss something...

[ambitions-of-an-eccedentesiast]

yeah that must hurt- too late now ::)

Next->

<-Previous

[blood-injections]

[creatively-cosmic]

another brief lapse in posting the exe backlog to bring you our doku once again

[johnwickfucker]

pipeline punch is the nectar of the gods

[avocado-writing]

Please if I may request either short fix or HCs for reader patching up both Logan and Wade after they've come back from a fight?

for you, bel? anything.

The smell of antiseptic cuts through the usually cosy air of the kitchen, sharp and chemical. Logan remains unmoving, a statue of a man, except for his eyes - they follow you round as you work. 

“Hold still,” you say, as if he’d do anything different. He doesn’t even twitch as you press the cotton swab to the gash on his cheek. You can see it begin to heal up, flesh knitting back together like yarn. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, eventually. Heavily. Like he’s some sort of burden for you to tend to rather than a partner for you to love. 

“Mmm, I know,” you reply, waiting for the wound to finally close and sealing it with a kiss; tasting the bite of rubbing alcohol there. “But I like taking care of you. And you were grouchy last time you got an infection.”

He opens his mouth to try and find a retort to that but, of course, you’re right. You’re always right and this is a fact he must come to terms with. 

Satisfied at his compliance, you lean over to kiss him. 

“I’m gonna touch you with it.”

“Fucking don’t, Wade.”

“He wants to be your friend, and you’re so callous and heartless as to reject him?”

He’s tormenting you. Tormenting you with his tiny regrowing hand. You take its horrid little wrist and push him away, holding back a shudder as you feel it physically regrowing in your grasp. 

“I swear on my fucking life, I’ll take the other one if you don’t stop.”

He goes to argue, but there’s a dangerous glint in your eye that suggests you might just do it, so instead he sits there and sulks. 

You know why he’s being like this, though: it’s because he’s bored. He would be. It’s no fun sitting here as you pull shards of glass out from the meat of his thigh, but if you don’t there’s a chance his skin will heal over them. Last time that happened he accidentally stabbed you with it mid-fuck, and he was nonstop apologising for a month. 

So, really, this is for the best. To try and sate him you reach over and press a kiss against his lips. He pauses for a second before cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. 

“Thanks for not using the little hand,” you say, when you finally break apart. 

“He’s still upset,” Wade replies, but he’s smiling now. 

“Mmmm, he’ll survive, I’m sure.”

[thecoochiefairy]

𝓐ᥫ᭡ suguru’s visuals/description.

𝓐ᥫ᭡ the silent killer—mmmm, in my personal opinion/perception, suguru is about 6’2/6’3. built, broad within the back, arms—muscular frame. long, dark hair that reaches a little past his shoulders. he keeps it up for the most part, in a low bun, tendrils around his strong expression and sculptured jaw. tattoos starting from his collarbone going all the way down. gives me more of a patchwork vibe w/ the ink on his body. dark eyebrows, bone straight smile. has an eyebrow piercing on his left side. wears a lot of black clothing that keep him comfortable. sweatshirts, hoodies, jackets, oversized tees, graphic/band tees. likes silver jewelry. he’s willing to listen to anything, but enjoys bands like radiohead, DEFTONES, the internet, my chemical romance, enjoys riding motorcycles. depending on his mood, he can be the observer, or the silent type. but if he’s comfortable, he can’t stop talking, immediately pulling you in. a true aquarius man—the devil himself.

[temporarywelcome]

Mine - Peter Maximoff

Words: 389 (short n' sweet)

REQUESTED!

The Ask: Short fluffy fic of Peter Maximoff coming home to find reader eating his junk food. - @envy-of-greed

WARNINGS: light swearing

_____

God, for someone so fast, he surely was taking forever. 

Perhaps he was doing this on purpose because she found herself cleaning his messy room (his mom’s basement), folding his crumpled-up laundry and deducing what needed to be put in the hamper and what was clean. She dusted the surface of each bit of furniture and re-organized some drawers, still waiting for this idiot to show up. 

Y/N then noticed his usual tower of hostess treats had toppled over, so she went to clean that up as well. Some Twinkies had fallen from their open container, so she went and scooped them up. Peter’s favorite treat. He always made sure to have one on him. 

Beginning to put them away in their container, one at a time, she paused. 

Peter could be an asshole at times, but he was a playful asshole. H wouldn’t mind at all if she took one. 

So she did. 

Sitting on the bed, she carefully opened up a plastic package, leaning against the headboard as she took a bite of the cakey treat. Mmmm chemicals and preservatives. Peter’s favorite. 

“Now, what is this?” 

With a squeak, Y/N jumped, almost dropping the Twinkie from her hand. Peter stood right in front of the bed, arms crossed over his chest with a big smirk on his face. Not upset in the slightest, more amused than anything else. 

“Ermmm,” was all she came up with. 

Peter laughed, zipping onto the bed, making her gasp as he jumped on top of her.

“Shit!” Y/N groaned, arms going around his waist. Pretty much reflex at this point. She then realized he had taken the Twinkie from her hand, taking a large bite out of it. “Hey! Those things are small!” 

“They’re mine,” he replied smugly, nuzzling into her neck. 

She shook her head with a small giggle, “Baby, how much of this did you actually buy?” she asked, taking a bite of the treat. She didn’t even get a chance to chew before Peter nipped at her neck hard, causing her to choke, “Asshole! What was that for?” He has always been a biter, she can’t ever see him without leaving with a huge hickey or straight up just a big bite mark. 

He smirked against her skin, “Just biting into something else that’s mine,”

Dumbass.

[a-girl-forever]

Emmy, The new girl in school

annnnddd there we go. Did it hurt?

Mmmm…no

You're being a very good girl Emmy.

This shot is going to cause more of your male chromosomes to be replaced. You're going to experience slight breast growth over the next week which should bring you to a 32B cup.

The kids at school shouldn't notice anything unusual. Most natural girls your age are going through the same thing right now.

School sucks, my parents suck, and this whole turning me into a girl thing REALLY sucks! Seriously! Don't know what Mom and Dad were thinking forcing me to go back to school as a girl. Things are a lot more complicated now!

They just want the best future for you. The testing suggested you’d better succeed in life as a nurse or a librarian or a wife and mother!

Great, just great!

Next week, the final dosage should be ready. The chemical reaction should make your small penis recede into your body and your uterus will be fully developed. You should be ready to take gym class again and shower with the other girls.

The school gynecologist should be in shortly to check up on you. She's going to give you a talk on taking care of yourself ‘down there’ since your menstrual cycle will start pretty soon!

Ugh!

[mrsnancywheeler]

ivy // finnick odair x f. reader

masterlist

5.3k words

summary: you've loved finnick as long as you can remember, and he's loved you too, but he doesn't want the capitol to know that.

warnings: angst w/ a happy ending, friends to lovers, a slow burn to get together but not to catch feelings, underage drinking, some emotional cheating not on reader or finnick, teenagers being teenagers, finnick kind of being mean to some people, reader runs out of a wedding (her wedding), allusions to the hunger games and trafficking, no use of y/n, unedited

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The smell of the salty ocean air had always brought you comfort, happiness, anything you could have wished for. It made everything feel so worth it. Long days working, early mornings, a few hours in school, late nights trying to fill in with any freedom you could find, and the few hours of sleep crammed in. All of it was worth it to feel the breeze on your face once again.

“What are you doing out here alone?” A voice interrupted your solace, but it was a voice that you instantly recognized.

“Finnick, you’re back!” You turned to smile at him and his own smile only made you want to smile wider. He’d always had this inherent brightness to him, he was like the sun, always had been. Shining so brightly, providing so much inherent warmth.

“Yeah, you miss me?” Finnick lifted an eyebrow cockily before sitting rather unceremoniously in the sand beside you.

“In your dreams.” You give an all too playful, all too exaggerated eye roll, leaning back on your elbows.

“Oh you know it, honey.” He’s winking and you can’t help but actually roll your eyes this time. It’s been this way between the two of you as long as you can remember, the lighthearted flirting, the playful banter. It just felt so natural whenever you were with him. Finnick kept sitting up and you didn’t prop yourself up until he was putting a bottle in his mouth.

“Oh my god, is that-”

He chuckled, “You know it, snagged some extra bottles off the train when I was getting back a few days ago.” Finnick handed the bottle out and you eagerly took it. He always took a few days to himself when he got back from the Capitol, locked in that big, haunting house of his. Everyone knew better than to ask him about it, you always just counted it as part of his stay at the Capitol. So him “coming back,” was really whenever he reemerged in the streets of District 4.

This alcohol was always so much more pleasant then whatever concoctions people would make at parties, it burned, but not in a way that tasted like pure chemicals. No, this was much more enjoyable, and much more rare. “How rebellious of you, tsk tsk tsk.” You shook your head, tongue clicking as you handed the bottle back to him.

“Anything for you.” He flashed that winning smile that had everyone swooning, a smile you’d forced yourself to be immune to.

“Mmmm, I’m flattered for your crimes to be completely about me, and not you wanting to get shit faced on the beach.”

Finnick put the bottle in the sand between you two, “Of course not, I put wanting to see your shit faced on the beach way above my own needs.

“And what a gentleman you are!” You laughed, picking up the bottle and tilting it towards him before you took another drink of the bubbles.

You weren’t sure long the two of you had spent laughing about every stupid thing you could think of, but the bottle was almost gone, the sun setting. Finnick was picking up handfuls of sand and letting it sift through his fingers, you were letting the last few ways of sunlight warm your face.

“You know who I heard is desperately in love with you?” Your eyes are closed, smiling at the sun as it slowly fades away.

“You? Because I’ve known about that one for years.”

“No, asshole!” You sit up enough to shove him playfully and he’s laughing, which makes you laugh too, he’s so infectious. “Moira!”

Finnick takes what is probably the final sip from the bottle, “Who’s that?”

“You are such a dick, Finnick!” The smile hasn’t left your face though, in fact you’ve been feeling kind of floaty for a while now.

“What? I honestly don’t know, I swear! Should I?”

“Yes! You were flirting with her the other week, her parents run the, god, what do they run?”

“Don’t look at me!”

“Fuck, um, oysters! They do oysters, and you were talking to her at the market, flirting with her.”

“I was not flirting!”

“You were!” You copy his facial expressions, his defensive eyes, trying to suppress every giggle that wants to force its way out.

“That’s how I talk to everyone.”

“Well, I know that, but she doesn’t. Anyways, um…” You’re taking a second to rub your face, trying to regain your train of thought in your fuzzy brain.

“Somebody is shitfaced on the beach!” Finnick is poking at your nose.

“I am not! Oh my god, I’m not. I’m not!”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Oh, fuck off! As I was saying, Moira, thinks that the two of you are meant to be or something, that you’re gonna get married someday, I think she’s already planning out the wedding. So, I do need to know what I should be bringing, like what wedding gifts are you-”

“You think you are so funny.” Finnick rolls his eyes.

“You’re the one who’s laughing.”

“No, I am not!” He says, too defensively, and the two of you stare at each other in silence until you’re both cackling. By the time you’ve both stopped the sun is almost all the way down. A comfortable silence has settled between the two of you, “I’m never going to fall in love with anyone.” Finnick breaks the silence, throwing a pebble he found into the water. Your initial instinct is to say something snarky, but with one glance you can tell he’s being serious, the alcohol must have tricked him into being vulnerable. “I’m not going to let them hurt me through that.”

You don’t ask who ‘they’ are, you don’t really need him to say, you’d figured out for yourself what the odd cryptic things he’d mumble really meant. He didn’t need to open up like that if he didn’t want to, you could read him far too easily. “Never?” Your knees move up so you can lay your arms across them and prop up your head.

“Nope, never.” His gaze was trained steadily on the ocean before you both, but yours was on every small expression that could cross his face. You’d memorized every expression he could make.

You didn’t mention that he was only 16, an age that seemed far too young to claim to never love again when he would probably live 70 more years, a sad life to force himself into. He had his reasons though, even if he wouldn’t tell them to you, so you’d respect them. That’s what best friends are for. “Well, you better tell Moira the wedding is off, I feel like she might’ve already bought a dress though, so-”

There it is. He’s smiling again, and you’re successful. You have to make a pact to yourself too though, you can never love him anymore than you do right now, because you already love him far too much.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Don’t you dare!” You’re screaming through giggles, running away from the two boys trying to throw you into the ocean. They’re about to catch you when a very recognizable, honey-dripped voice is interrupting them.

“Don’t! It’s her birthday, Caspian just brought in a crate of white liquor.” Finnick says and the boys are off running to drink as much as they can before it runs out. As soon as they’ve moved though, Finnick is sweeping you up in his arms.

“Finnick!” You’re screeching instantly.

“What? You thought I was here to save you? Absolutely not, just wanted to do the honorary birthday girl splash myself!” He throws in some unnecessary spinning on his way to the water and you’re laughing, but not even trying to fight your way out of his arms, before being tossed into the shallow water.

You’re absolutely drenched when you sit up, and he’s trying to stifle his laughter. “You are evil, Finnick Odair! Absolutely evil.” It’s freezing, but in the best of ways, you love nights spent in the water. You brush your hands across your face, getting the water out of your eyes.

“You should’ve known better than to trust me.” His smirk is so unbelievably smug and you hate him for it, hate that you love it.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. At least help me up.” You reach out your arm and he sighs, taking it, so you quickly pull him down with you. It was far too easy, and you know he let you do it, but you laugh at him anyways. “What happened to knowing better? Takes to one to know one, I guess.” Before you can get another snarky remark in though he’s digging his fingers into your side, tickling you until you’re gasping for air, sides aching from laughter. “Fin, stop, stop it!” Splashing water at him to try and make him stop, but it does nothing.

He finally halts his actions when a rather annoyed voice is calling out to him, “Finnick!” You both look up to see Moira with her arms crossed, “You said you were only gonna be a minute!”

“Right, sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair, pointing at you with his free hand, “Found her!”

“Yeah, I can see that.” The way she says it is so icy it makes you want to shiver. “Come on, we should get inside, do cake and all that.”

“Yeah.” Finnick stands up, grabbing your hand to pull you up with him, and there’s a second where there’s a pause. Hand still in his as he looks at you, shining so angelic under the moonlight, he has to scold himself for it as he pulls his hand away. You scold yourself as well for even sensing a spark of something, he doesn’t want to fall in love, he won’t. So you need to be okay with that.

The walk back up to his house is quiet besides the sounds of seagulls, or the ocean waves crashing up and down the shore. You hate that you resent Moira, especially when you know she’s going to be let down just as you’ve been. Yet you are, he’s still your best friend, every moment you can have with him is so immensely precious. You don’t need anyone else hogging it up.

You’re shivering by the time you get inside of the house, still completely drenched, and the breeze hadn’t helped a bit. Finnick is quick to get you a towel the moment he looks at you, “Here you go, honey. Can’t have you getting hypothermic on me, especially on your birthday.” His hands rub up and down your arms, over the towel, trying to heat you up faster.

“Well whose fault would that be?” You jab back, but your voice is soft.

“Oh, I’ll make it up to you.” He clicks his tongue, moving a hand to softly move some of the wet hair that’s stuck to your face. His skin is somehow so warm even though he’d gotten just as soaked as you had. His thumb brushing across your face, looking into your eyes as he does it. Part of you hates him for this, he has to know what he’s doing, but you won’t tear yourself away. He’s addicting like that. His hand has just stayed still, holding the side of your face, and it’s as if neither of you can hear the rest of the party going on around you. It’s as if he’s forgotten himself to stare at you.

“Finnick, cake!” God, it’s so hard not to hate Moira nowadays. Her voice pries him away from you, out of the warmth and comfort of his touch.

“I’ve got it.” He still maintains enough eye contact though to show you the eye roll that’s pointed at her. Before he’s disappeared into the kitchen to grab said cake.

You’re sitting on the couch not long after that, fork pushing around your slice, as your eyes try not to bore into Moria’s head. Finnick is surrounded by a small group of people, leaning on the frame of a doorway, being his usual magnetic, sunshine self, and there she is. Draped all over him, laughing just a little too loudly at everything she says. It’s infuriating. You know you shouldn’t be jealous, you have no power over who does or doesn’t let that close to him, and you know he doesn’t love her. It’s still a bubbling anger though, one you try so hard to suppress, that forces itself forward, despite your own wishes. In fact, you beg it not to, but it persists. Why should she get to do that and think she’s so deserving of his love? You love him miles deeper than anybody else even knowing he’ll never love you the same. Someone is trying to talk to you, but you can’t hear a word they’re saying. Eventually you push yourself off the couch, leaving the plate, and are grabbing the last bottle of white liquor to go sit on the porch.

You’ve drunk at least half of the bottle of burning liquor when you hear the door opening behind you, “What’s wrong, honey?” Finnick is sitting right beside you, body heat already exerting off of him.

“Just needed some air.” You lie through your teeth and keep your eyes focused forward as you take another drink.

There’s a pause, he always knows when you’re lying, but he also knows how to read you the same way you’ve learned to read him. He knows better than to bring up why you’d choose to not be honest right now. “They’re looking for you to do gifts.”

You exhale, trying to breath out the negative emotions shrouding you. “I don’t need anything.” You say, finally looking at him.

“Sound the alarms, she’s 17 and too cool for the rest of us now.” He jokes, taking the bottle out of your hand to have a drink himself, shaking his head after gulping it down. “Remind me next time to smuggle more than I usually do, this is disgusting.”

You snort the smallest bit as you look down to the wooden porch, picking at it, when the door is opening again, and it’s that last voice you want to hear. “Finnick, what are you doing?” You are involuntarily grimacing at the sound of her voice, and you really know you shouldn’t, but jealousy isn’t a demon you fight off well.

“Moira?” Finnick isn’t even turning behind him.

“What?” She tries to sound somewhat sweet through the exasperated tone, honestly you’d be annoyed too if you were her, but you’re not.

“Fuck off, bother someone who cares.” He takes another drink from the bottle, and you know how much that probably hurt her, but you’re so glad she’s gone, so glad it was him who said something. Plus, isn’t this what being a teenager is supposed to be like?

“You’re such an asshole.” You say once the door has shut again, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling.

“You were jealous.” Finnick shrugs, taking yet another sip before trying to pass the bottle back to you, but you’re too stunned to speak, let alone grab it back. “What?” He chuckles, giving a cheeky smile.

“I was not!” You argue back when you’ve finally been able to regain some speech, feeling your cheeks burning up. Grabbing the bottle from his hand to chug some of the liquor down.

“I know you were, you don’t have to lie about it, it’s fine. She’s gone now.” He’s drunk, that much is abundantly clear. This is the sort of stuff that’s always remained unsaid between the two of you.

“You don’t need to do that for me.” You finally let yourself react, stop being defensive. There’s no point in hiding from a truth that you both know. It’s so mean of him though, to know you love him yet carry on playing with you as he does. Is it worse for you to let him?

“Not like her and I were going anywhere, anyways.” He cocks his head to the side.

“You knew what she wanted, Finnick, don’t be cruel.” You finish the rest of the bottle and stare into the dark night before you.

“Do you think I’m cruel?” Finnick’s voice feels so vulnerable, letting a small piece of that side of him break through.

You sigh, and you do want to reassure him, but when he’s being like this it feels more harmful to lie to him, so you divert, “Don’t think twice, it’s alright.” He might not be cruel, but that doesn’t mean that’s not how you feel deep down. He looks down at the ground, nodding, frowning a little, “Fin-” You instantly want to take it back, you’re not trying to hurt him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry.” He turns his head to look at you, and you avert your gaze forward again before standing suddenly.

“We should go inside, she’s right, we’re keeping everyone waiting.” You go to turn towards the door.

“Honey.” He’s grabbing your arm and you turn around to look at him, trying to ignore the way his touch tingles up the rest of your arm. You look at him expectantly and suddenly his lips are pressed to yours. He tastes like you’d imagined he would, like honey and saltwater. This only furthers the proof that he can’t help but be somewhat cruel, you know this will change nothing, and yet you can’t pull away. So you kiss him back, it’s really so brief, and you can taste the alcohol on both of your breaths as well, but this is the only time this can ever happen so you let it. When he finally pulls away he just rests his forehead against yours and you notice that he’s crying. So you don’t say a thing, just let him. He presses another kiss to your forehead when he’s finally been able to force the tears away, and it’s time to head back inside. With the silent acceptance that neither of you will talk about this ever again, and you keep to that promise.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“I hate him.” Finnick remarks, throwing a random rock he found into the waves.

“Well, it’s a good thing you're not the one dating him then, isn’t it?” You stretch your arms out to let the wind fully engulf your body.

Finnick glowers at you, “I should have some say, you’re my best friend, I’m just looking out for you.”

“I don’t need you looking out for me, Finnick!” You say it too harshly and your laugh is much too incredulous for either of your tastes. “Sorry. Finn, I know you mean well.”

“Then just listen to me, not him, okay? Anyone, but him.” He’s turning to you, pleading, grabbing your hands in the warmth of his.

“Finnick, you said the same thing about Irving-” He’s about to cut you off with some excuse, but you don’t let him, “And Malik, you can’t do it to Lir too!”

“Don’t we have veto power? Like, with Moira!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, Finnick, and it was two years ago! We’ve grown up and I have let you veto and veto, but Finnick, I- I don’t want to be alone forever!” You knew eventually this conversation would have to be had, especially now, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“You’re not alone, you’re never going to be alone.” Finnick is letting go of one of your hands to cradle your head and you don’t know why you let him when you should try to pull away.

“You know what I mean.” He does, you both do, and the waves crash as the words settle into the recesses of each of your brains. Finally he’s letting go of you completely, rubbing his face, trying to hide his emotions somehow. “Finnick, listen…” He looks up at you expectantly, raising an eyebrow in a way that feels somewhat scathing, but you have to brave it. Despite the fact that you can feel your heart beating out of your chest and that you are completely sick to your stomach, “Lir and I, we’re, we’re, um, fuck, Finnick, Lir and I are getting married.”

Whatever he expected you to say it most certainly wasn’t that and his reaction makes it seem like you’ve just shot him in the chest. You so desperately want to take it back, but you know that you can’t. You have to move on, you can’t let your life be dedicated to wishing for a love that he’ll never commit to giving you. Then you’re shocked because he’s laughing, sliding himself back into his cocky persona.

“Honey, you’re 19. This is a life commitment, don’t act out like this.” The idea that you’re ‘acting out’ makes you angrier than you’ve ever been with him in your life.

“Finnick, you know better than anyone that someone’s life can be gone like that.” You snap your fingers, “I want to live my life!”

He nods, angrily, swallowing, “So, you love him?”

“He loves me.”

This time Finnick’s laugh is cold, biting, “And that’s fair to him, how? Wow, I’d expect more from you, honey-”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” The way you say it makes him still, he’s never seen you like this before, never heard your voice be so rigid. “I never said it was fair, do you think I feel like I’m doing the right thing? Because I don’t. Fuck, it keeps me up at night, I know, he deserves better, I fucking know that. And it’s so selfish, but what about me?” The tears have started slipping down your face before you can stop them, it’s like you’re trying to choke on them. “I want to be loved, really, truly loved. And maybe it will haunt me for the rest of my days, but it’s the only thing I have ever really wanted.” You take a second to let yourself breath, to wipe some of the tears away, “Finnick, I have never pushed you, or asked you, I have done exactly what you wanted because I respect your decision. You don’t even have to tell me why, you never do, but if I can’t be with the person who I love, why can’t you let me have this?”

You’ve finally calmed down your tears and your breathing has become steady once again, and Finnick is nodding slowly. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You’re not selfish for that.” He finally says.

“Thank you.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The soft fabric of the dress is so comforting on your skin, not itchy like you’d expect a wedding dress to be. No, it’s flowy and the wind is sure to make it billow around you. One of your bridesmaids, Nerissa, is weaving flowers into your hair with the seashells that had been so carefully attached to the little pins. As always, the sound of the ocean waves through the open window relaxes any nerves that tried to approach.

“You look beautiful.” Finnick’s voice startles you and you smile at him in the mirror.

“Finnick! What are you doing here?” You ask and Nerissa tries to stick in one final pin.

“I know technically I shouldn’t sneak in before it starts, but I have something for you.” He’s got a twinkle in his eye as he approaches, and you can’t not smile back at him. Nerissa moves and suddenly he’s standing beside you, carefully moving your hair out of the way. Finnick adjusts a necklace onto your neck, glistening pearls, you notice they’re blue, the rarest color.

“Oh, Finn.” Your fingers trace across them as he clasps the necklace together/

“I got them for you last time I was in the Capitol, made me think of you.” His face is then right next to yours, warm cheek pressed to yours, “Something new and something blue.” He’s got that award-winning, cheeky smile, but there’s something sad in his eyes that makes you sad too.

“Thank you.” You turn to actually face him and say the words so softly, even though you know you shouldn’t, like you’re trying to let him know that you do still love him. Finnick looks at you, smirk turning into a soft smile.

“Of course, honey.” A nickname he definitely shouldn’t be using, but you don’t care, and he raises his hand to brush a stray hair behind your ear. His burning touch is so comforting, and yet it unearths all the anxiety about what you’re doing, all the anxiety you’ve been trying to push down. Suddenly he seems to realize what he’s doing and pulls his hand away, which you accidentally chase after. “You really do make the most beautiful bride.” Finnick straightens himself and stands up, about to walk out, “Oh, and I got you another gift, out on the table, a proper gift. And, I snuck some good bottles of champagne out onto the table.” He smiles and you can’t resist smiling and chuckling back at him.

“Thank you.” You watch him go so fondly, and then have to shake yourself off a bit. You need to remember what you’re about to do, why, you can’t get distracted. You want him so bad, but he can’t be the one you need, it’s not him.

That’s the mantra you repeat to yourself when you’re finally about to walk down the aisle. You’re so thankful that it’s on the beach, desperately wishing for the sound of the waves, the smell of the ocean, the feeling of its misty breeze to give you the same comfort it always does, but it refuses. The churning of your stomach refuses to subside as you clutch onto the arm of your father to try and not fall, as your feet are starting to feel resistant. This happens to every bride though, right? Nerves are common, so is the feeling of cold feet, but you can do this. You have to do this. It’s the closest thing you’re ever going to have to the life you really want, to who you really want.

You feel almost like you’re out of your body as you walk down the seemingly infinite aisle. Lir is smiling so sweetly, he is so sweet, with his bright blue eyes, the curl of his brown hair, but you can’t stop your brain from filling all those attributes in for a sea green pigment instead, or waves of blonde. You’re scared your bouquet might break from how tight your fingernails are crushing into it. Everything feels heavy, you can’t even hear the waves anymore, just the rapid beat of your heart. You wonder if you look as terrified as you feel, that’s the last thing you need. Maybe it does just look like nerves though, if you’re really lucky.

When you finally reach the end, you’re trying not to visibly hyperventilate, and as your father lets go of you to sit down you try to look at him, to ask for some sort of help, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Are you okay?” Lir asks you quietly, brow furrowed. You don’t know why you nod, you do, because you need this, but you know you shouldn’t. You’ve never felt more trapped even if it’s a cage of your own making. “You look stunning.” He whispers before looking back at the officiant who is going on about something. You try to smile, but your eyes dart around the audience, looking for someone they most definitely shouldn’t be looking for. “I’ve never seen that necklace before-” Lir says something else, but you don’t hear it, your fingers trace up to it, feeling each bump.

Every movement, even your breathing suddenly freezes, “I’m so sorry.” You quickly blurt out, staring at Lir, and you really do feel bad, but that guilt isn’t nearly as terrible as the way you feel like you might suffocate. Everything has stopped, even the drone of the officiant, and you are so aware of everyone’s confused eyes being on you, so you make a run for it. Dropping the bouquet and suddenly you feel freer than a bird.

The ocean air is whipping around you and you are getting as far as you can away from all of it. Ripping off your sandals as you go, just letting your feet feel the coarse sand of the beach. Your cheeks feel frozen from the mist hitting them so harshly, but it makes you feel so alive. Most of the flowers and pins of seashells have probably been flung around the ground, the path of you. You keep running until you can’t breathe anymore, until your sides are burning and aching in the best of ways, a fire that burns so perfectly. Letting yourself stop in the water, it wades up to your knees, and you like the dress better that way too. This is what is real.

“Fuck!” You exclaim to no one but yourself as you stare at the sky, spinning in the water. Feeling the sun beat down on you, laughing at yourself, at everything, at nothing in particular.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Suddenly Finnick’s grabbing your arms, steadying you, his cheeks are bright red and you can tell he was running after you. “If it’s just nerves, he’ll understand, everyone will, you can go back, honey.” You’re smiling as you shake your head and he’s furrowing his brow in confusion. “Isn’t this what you want?”

“Oh my god, no! I thought I did, but no.” You press a hand to your forehead, and then to his chest, “And don’t think this is me trying to make you do something that you don’t want, Finn. It’s not, I respect you too much for that, I just, I thought that I needed that, that I needed someone to love me, but I can’t do that to someone. I can’t just hope to love him eventually because that’s just not going to happen, I can’t give up the only thing that might let me.”

Finnick still looks confused as you maintain your smile, your breathing finally allowing itself to go back to normal, “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes, oh my god, yes! I’ll be an old maid by the sea, I don’t care, I can’t do it!”

Finnick takes a deep breath and something about the way he does it just tells you exactly what he’s going to say, “Honey, I-”

“I know, Fin, I’ve always known, but I also know you have your reasons for what you do. It’s enough for me to just know.”

He looks at you, like he’s thinking just for a second, “No it’s not.”

“What?”

“That’s not enough. It’s not enough for you, and it’s definitely not enough for me. They can’t have all of me! Maybe it’s selfish, but I want this one thing for myself.”

“You don’t have to say it just because I-”

“I’m not! I almost let you marry another man and I realized, it wasn’t worth it. If you want this, and I want this, let’s just do it. I’ll figure everything else out, just, you should marry me. Please.”

The shock almost stops you from doing anything at all, but the excitement far overcomes that. You pull him in, kiss him, and his hands find your face. Melting into his touch, and never had life felt so right. Wind billowing around, sun shining down, and come what may, at least you have each other.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As always, thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are always much appreciated. I love you all, and I hope you enjoyed this, I really enjoyed writing it, and I cried while I did 💋

[musclejedi-tameem]

It started out as a normal day at Millbrook University. Students went to class and sports teams practiced for games. The band and choir rehearsed and when the academic day was done there was plenty of night life for people to enjoy. All except for Keegan and Jonny, they were rushing to finish their science project in the lab so they were not engaging with the wider student body. The two young scientists were very smart but clumsy and awkward in social situations but somehow they came together and started dating, but most of their dates were these long nights in the lab followed by some fun in bed if they weren’t to tired. But on this night things were about to change. As Keegan was examining the virus they were studying for their project Jonny accidentally spilled some chemicals on it and there was a small explosion. When the dust settled Keegan coughed and groaned, “I feel weird babe… fuck…” before Jonny could react Keegan began to change before his eyes! The skinny nerd began to swell with muscle, making his lab coat get tight as he grew bigger and thicker and then his clothes started to rip altogether. His groans got louder and deeper as he kept growing. His face becoming angular and handsome and his legs getting huge and thick. His butt swelled into a nice muscled bubble butt as his back thickened and widened but taker nicely into a v shape. Between Keegan’s massive thighs his cock grew longer and thicker as his balls swelled and dropped heavily between his legs. When it ended as quick as it began the small nerdy Keegan was gone and in his place was a huge muscle bro! “ mmmm me so horny bruh.” The new beast rumbled as he fondled his big package. “Bruh? What do you mean bruh? I’m your boyfriend Keegan!” Jonny yelled in disbelief. “Yeah you are bro, you’re my boyfriend and my bro. C’mon bro let’s fuck! You’ll see how it’s better this way.” Keegan smirked and flexed his new muscles, Jonny couldn’t resist the allure of his new hot boyfriend and pretty soon they went at it right there on the lab floor. But as soon as Keegan filled Jonny with his cum Jonny began to swell and grow too. The virus they had been working on was infecting them and making them big horny muscle bros, all their previous knowledge was gone and all they cared about now besides each other was to go and fuck more men to make them like themselves. This actually was easier then might be though because the two new alpha bros exuded a pheromone that made them irresistible to any guy that they wanted. It didn’t matter if the guy was straight or gay, he would become horny and need to be fucked or suck off these two and then he would transform into a muscle bro like them. In the course of a night most men on campus were either turned into gay horny himbos or about to be. Millbrook University was about to become Himbo University and soon that’s the only type of man that would be there, faculty included. They would all spend their days lifting and fucking and just vibing together. It was now such a peaceful happy place. And as soon as a guy left here he would carry the himbo virus with him and make more men like him wherever he went.

[siremasterlawrence]

Chef’s Kiss

Is it evil to agree to have dinner with my hot next door neighborhood daddy and his kids with an agenda of my own? Maybe my dear!However I am literally at the front door of his home taking a breath and then knocking on it hard. A few minutes pass as I hear feet shuffle to rush over and open it a firm and assured handshake is offered as I cross the threshold into his home and I know it is far too late to back out now.

“Hello! I made it”

“Great to see you! Lawrence”

“May I ask?

“Take a lead off and sit “

“I’ll get you some wine”

“Thank you! Perfect for me”

“What did you say?”

“I made these for you “

“Really! Oh sweet!”

“I’ll have some later “

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to ruin my dinner “

“You won’t”

“I promise”

“Why are you ….”

“Yes!”

“You are right! I’ll have one”

“Correct! Sit down at your dinner table”

“Ok! Can’t wait “

“Actually on the couch”

“Eat as much as you want “

“I shouldn’t but heck”

“These smell so lovely “

“You are a confectionery genius”

“Having a moment here”

“Sorry! You should open a bakery”

“One day! God willing but for now eat it up”

I watch him dig into one cup cake like a tiny delicate treat tasting it like it is the most all inspiring and chef approved marvel of a cup cake on a level never seen before as his eyes are all a glow taking them in one by one of course. I left him to his station on the couch lost in a sea of sweats and love entering the kitchen I begin to look for a wine glass, uncork the champagne taking a sip as he munches on completely ignoring everything around him.

“Are you alone tonight or will we have company?”

“Just us bud”

“Perfect! Why don’t you finish the last one “

“With pleasure”

“I feel weird”

“How so?..”

“Light! Dumb! Drunk!”

“Can you tell me who you are?”

“Chris Lyle! Right? I think”

“You got it! Do you know where you are?”

“FUCK No! Who cares?”

“Do me a favor?”

“Why are you wearing a suit?”

“Dude! Hell no!”

“You are a bro man”

“I am about to go change “

“Yeah! Do that”

“Mwahahahahaha! As planned”

I knew it would take him at least a hour to change because he no longer can focus on anything in particular except for all of me it’s my secret ingredient simply put and you will love it really it’s my bodily fluids mixed in with my scent. While he trudges away his cellphone begins to ring alerting me to a text I receive, I reply back to not come home tonight because I need some time for myselfback and I get a smile a emoji form all of his kids like it’s the latest fad all do sudden any way I am getting side tracked.

The plane is halfway completed as I grab my got to bag placing it on the table slide the zipper down the side pocket to retrieve my phone, I swiftly connect to my cell to his speakers shifting through my playlist in my music app and I land on hypnotic tunes as I press play and raise the volume. It is a list specifically attune to my chemical make up so only someone who is connected to me will be affected, upstairs the minute the first track hit his ears the lights went out in his eyes and he began to undress and I take over the kitchen rummaging through his fridge I begin to prepare meal mixing spice made with my bodily fluids.

“Mmmmm! What is that delightful aroma?”

“It’s my spices I created”

“They are heavenly”

“May I help!”

“Sure Chris! Dance across the floor “

“I’ll slide”

“Someone is in a good mood”

“Never felt more alive “

“You are a great cook”

“Ok bro! Taste this for me”

“Oh Lord!”

“What? No good!”

“You have to sell this “

“Seriously! I think this is made with love “

“Blood sweat and tears”

“Literally!”

“Why do I feel attracted to you ?”

“You are straight right?.”

“I thought so”

“Kiss me”

“Mmmm! Oh fuck that! I love you Master!”

The end

[soaring-kite]

Hi I saw your khr dc crossover and it's great . Can u do one where it is in the same universe where the Mafia doesn't touch anything Gotham related with a 10 foot pole , skull is dick Grayson maybe taking a vacation and ending up with the acros. Then maybe his identity comes out renegade or Robbie Malone or agent 37 and the acrobaleno see the personality shift or something .

MMMM nice, i don't think it's exactly what you wanted but it's what came to mind so, here you go! I had fun with this so i miiiight be extending it idk

it got sort of long so i put it under a cut

Quick Synopsis: Dick Grayson is ready for a break, ready for some fun, ready to fuck up some human traffickers, and absolutely down to---was he in the fucking mafia?

Italy. A country with great food, great people, and some truly terrible sunlight. At least in Dick's opinion as a Gothamite. Seriously, there was sun everywhere and he was certain that if either Bruce or Tim took a step into the country, they'd spontaneously combust like the pasty vampires they were.

Thinking about it like that, it may be the reason Dick had been the one to go undercover in Italy than anyone else.

Oh, sure Bruce called it a "well-deserved vacation" and Damian needled him about "going on break while the rest of us must work continuously," but it was undercover work no matter how Dick looked at it. Dye your hair purple, get contacts, don a new name, create a half-new personality, and join a travelling circus that was most probably the front for a human trafficking organisation. What else could it be but undercover work?

He hummed as he ran a hand through his now-purple hair, twisting a lock between his fingers and tugging at it absently. In his other hand, he held the thick envelope carefully. It was old-fashioned and coloured like cream. It was even sealed with golden wax.

Dick had found it moments prior, when he'd noticed something distinctly off as soon as he'd entered his assigned caravan. The feeling was still there. Casually, still holding the envelope in a gloved hand, he backed up slowly to his bed and sat down. Dick held it up to eye level and, pretending to examine it a bit more, he slid his eyes over the caravan's interior.

Nothing looked like it'd been touched.

But then again, nothing ever really did if someone had planted bugs.

Were the circus onto him? This could end up being trouble. Depending on what had been planted, be it cameras or recording or even tiny little bombs, Dick could be in some deep fucking water.

He sighed and rolled his neck. Dick said to the envelope, voice pitched higher than would speak naturally, "The question now, I suppose, would be whether I risk opening you or throw you out."

On one hand, there could be all sorts of chemicals or magic or something entwined into the envelope. On the other hand, it could be really important.

"I would," a smooth voice said from behind him, "appreciate it if you chose to read it, Mr. de Mort."

Dick flinched and turned it into a twist and elbow-to-the-face movement. His elbow went through the intruder's face and Dick clocked three things in that instant.

The first: the intruder was a man, wearing a green-checkered pattern and silver domino.

The second: magic was obviously involved.

The third: this man knew him only as Skull de Mort, it seemed, and not Dick Grayson or Nightwing. That changed a few things.

Twist, elbow, and Skull de Mort would---scream.

"Who are you?!" Skull wailed. "How did you get into the great Skull's caravan?! Are you here to kill me?! I'm warning you, I took three years of karate!"

The intruder smiled indulgently, one leg crossed over the other and giving some serious creepy vibes.

"Quite the opposite, Mr. de Mort. I'm here to give you the opportunity of a lifetime." He uncrossed his legs and got up from the bed. "I plan to gather the very best, the strongest seven in the world to serve a grander purpose. You, Skull de Mort, just happen to be one of these best and strongest."

Oh, he was good. Whoever this guy was, he was really, really good. He'd obviously done a lot of research onto Dick's made-up background for Skull and doubled down on the false personality's easy acceptance of flattery and ego feeding. At the same time, this would be supremely easy and supremely difficult.

Someone who'd done their research was easier to fool; just like this man, they were so confident in their investigation that Dick was certain they wouldn't dig deeper. On the other hand, someone who'd done their research was infinitely harder to keep an act around. Discrepancies wouldn't be tolerated.

Skull shifted on his feet. He puffed out his chest and tossed back his head. "Well, that's---it's only natural you would acknowledge my abilities! Haha! Are you a fan, my good man? What's your name, I'll give you a personalised autograph!"

"No need," the man said. "And, ah, you may call me Checker Face."

"Eeeeeh? A pseudonym? How cool!" Skull gave Checker Face a double thumbs up. "Are you like a superhero?"

Checker Face twitched slightly and Dick zeroed in on it.

Oho. Now that was interesting.

"I suppose so. Now, you'll find all necessary information regarding the first meeting enclosed in the envelope. Do try and get there, Mr. de Mort. I eagerly await your grand entrance."

Skull blinked, and Checker Face vanished. He shrieked and whipped around this way and that, eyes wide and hands frantic.

"Magic!" he cried.

Dick Grayson traced the burner phone in his pocket discreetly. He may end up having to hand this case over to Tim.