#people told me he looked like him even when I thought he looked like someone else

[itaipava]

— f1 boys and the moment they go “fuck it”

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

you’re both a little drunk, but sober enough to know what you’re doing. he loves testing your limits, so he makes a bet with you over something trivial, promising a “prize” if you win. when you win and smile victoriously, he laughs and says, “i guess i owe you something special, right?” you nod, ready to receive whatever it is. he leans in, eyes shining, and whispers, “i hope this counts,” before giving you a kiss that feels playful and intense at the same time.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

you’ve always had a fun friendship, where you could joke around and have fun with each other all the time, and tonight was no different. you’ve been teasing him all night, playfully testing his limits. he’s been patient, smiling, until you say something that pushes him over the edge, “oh you want to kiss me so bad right now,” you say playfully as he wouldn’t stop looking at your lips. he looks serious for a moment and you think he doesn’t like what you said, but he just gets even closer, his voice low and intense, “you have no idea how much,” before leaning in and kissing you, finally giving in to what he’s wanted for so long.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

you're alone in your room while music plays. you thought you were alone and he was in the living room, but he was silently watching you sway, mesmerized. he always admired you from afar and never hid it, but at that moment, something changes inside him like never before. he thought a lot before doing it, but it was only when he stopped thinking that he finally did it: he approaches, puts a hand on your waist and, without saying a word, pulls you close, holding you as if you were the only two people in the world. you were startled by his sudden attitude, but you quickly melted in his arms as he hugged you and pulled you even closer to him while your lips were danced together.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

you’d never argued before, but at that moment, your nerves were on edge; you were both frustrated with each other. the room fell silent as the tension shifted, and he was staring at you, breathless. you tried to look away from him, but something about him held you back; he was a mess. suddenly, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken emotions between you, finally letting everything that had been bottled up come out.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he watches you from afar as you talk and laugh with another guy, and even though he knows he has no claim, it still stirs something primal in him; he just couldn't stop staring at you, and you noticed it. later, when you're alone, you tease him about it and ask him why he couldn't stop looking at you like that. he knows you were having fun with the situation, but he wasn't. you thought it was no big deal, but for him it changed everything. "i hated seeing you with someone else," he finally admits, serious as he stares at you. you look at him for a few seconds and smile, he smiles back and takes your face, finally kissing you - and claiming you his.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

it’s late and you’re saying goodbye after spending the whole day together; he loves being with you, but he hates the time to say goodbye. it feels like time passes so quickly with you but so painfully slowly when you’re apart. he also knows that you hate goodbyes, so you’re lingering at the door, neither wanting to part. he takes your hand, holding it a little tighter, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “maybe… i don’t want to say goodbye yet,” he says and his eyes shine at you. he leans in, finally pressing his lips to yours as he places his hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

it’s late and you’re both tired from the party you just attended. people have started to leave, but you’re too busy with each other to care. you’re in the garden of the huge house, sitting on the grass and admiring the stars. he looks at you laughing at something he told you, your voice soft and open, and something inside him snaps. his heart starts to beat faster as he’s mesmerized by you. he blurts out, “sorry, i can’t pretend anymore,” and pulls you closer to him, his hands shaking with anticipation and desire as he finally takes your face carefully and kisses you, completely melting into the taste of you.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

he loves listening to you and always listens attentively. but lately he hasn't been able to hold himself back: whenever you start talking, he has to look away or think about something else, because he's on the verge of finally giving in to you. you have a surprising effect on him that he's never felt before, and today was no different: while you're talking, he suddenly goes quiet, his eyes fixed on yours with an intense gaze. "sorry," he murmurs, "i know you're saying something important, but i just… i can't concentrate when you're so close." he's also surprised by what he just said, but he doesn't wait for an answer, pulling you into that kiss he's been holding back for so, so long.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

you’re both running to take cover from an unexpected downpour, and you’re both soaking wet, laughing and out of breath. he looks at you, hair drenched and eyes shining as you laugh, and realizes he can’t contain himself anymore. you’re the most beautiful and charming person he’s ever met in his life, and he can’t hide it anymore. he’s afraid of losing you; of losing the opportunity to finally be with you. so, without saying a word, he gently caresses your cheek and smiles with you before pulling you into a passionate kiss, with the rain running down both of you. in that moment, he felt like he was floating. in that moment, nothing else mattered, it was just you and him in the world.

[cassandraclare]

Kit to Ty

Election day: misery, stress, hair-pulling, at least for Americans (and a lot of other people around the world affected by our politics!) So I thought I'd post a distraction; I hope it helps and doesn't annoy!

A while ago I posted the beginning of a letter from Kit to Ty, created for a Kickstarter backer. Here's the full text:

A letter from Kit to Ty, never sent.

Ty, Ty, Ty.

Your name looks strange written out like that. Like an abbreviation. But Tiberius would be so formal. I never think of you that way. Or, I suppose I should say, I never thought of you that way. Tenses matter in these situations, I guess.

It’s late, past midnight, and I’m sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom at Cirenworth. Jem and Tessa gave me one of the best rooms. Of course they did. It has a view out over the gardens. Sometimes I see the ghost of a dog there, a golden retriever I’m pretty sure, running in and out of the flowerbeds. He seems like a pretty happy ghost. I think about how much you like animals and how much they love you, because of course they do. But it’s too late; this dog passed away a long time ago. You probably couldn’t even see him. It’s too late for a lot of things, now.  

I’m still mad at you, and I don’t feel good about that. Maybe if I could forget, I could forgive. But I can’t forget that night you brought Livvy back. I’ll suddenly remember even when I’m thinking about something else. I’ll be in the middle of helping Tessa in the garden and suddenly I’ll turn around and I’m back in Idris. 

I remember I told you I loved you. I remember I told you I would help you, but not if you raised Livvy from the dead. Not if you did necromancy. But you wanted that more than you wanted me.

And I understand that. I’m not angry about that. Here’s what I’m angry about: when you brought Livvy back, you changed yourself. You made yourself a different person than the one I loved. I don’t know the person you are now. You took yourself away from me. I can’t forgive that. And you made me someone who has to keep a secret I never wanted to keep. I was raised by someone who had so many awful secrets, and when I started my life as a Shadowhunter I wanted to do it openly, and honestly. But now I’m just someone else with secrets I can never tell. Just like my dad.

It makes me angry, so angry. I want to yell at you. I wish you were here so I could yell at you.

Kit

[bunnygirllover45]

— FLESH DIVINE.

♱ TRIGGER WARNINGS: Johann purposely weakens reader's body on this one, manipulation, Johann and the reader have an established friendship, reader has a crush on Johann?, suggestive kiss at the end ig. word count: almost 2k.

Johann was always meticulous, almost maniacally so. Maybe that was why he never got along with other people—he always had a way of pushing people away with his complicated nature. Always controlling, observing, and criticizing, a guy like him was hard to deal with, and you knew that very well.

Even though you managed to get through almost five years of friendship —a very rocky one at that— it still amazed you how someone who could seem so utterly unapproachable stuck by your side. Have you needed a shoulder to cry? Johann was there. Need a hand with your work? Johann is an expert on this, somehow.  Need someone to remind you when to take your meds? Oh, he had the days marked down in his calendar already. No way he could forget such important details, he was a meticulous man after all, remember?

Not that you weren’t reliable either, during his first breakup you were there. The memory was still fresh in your mind as you recall how utterly bored he looked as he told you about that girl you thought was his soulmate. Couldn’t help but wonder if he truly cared about any of the relationships he had before, or even if he cared about the ones he has now, but you held back from asking at the time. Johann really cares about you, if he didn’t then he wouldn’t go and take such measures to ensure you’re doing alright, or checking up on you, right?—the little bug gnawing at the back of your mind didn’t think the same.

He cares about you, he really does, right? Even when you’re this weak and unable to do anything for yourself, he doesn’t think you’re an annoyance.

“You’re spacing out again.” Johann’s deep voice pushed those thoughts away in a split second, the man stared at you, leaning in to tap with one finger against your forehead in a playful gesture that was a little strange taking into account he looked as expressionless as always. “You’re thinkin’ too much, gonna fry your brain into jelly if you keep doin’ that.” A small smile rose on the corners of his lips, black eyes staring at you with a little glint on them you couldn’t quite decipher. “I like you better when you don’t think.” The words made you shiver a little, ‘I like you— ’ and the rest was a blur inside your head. A part of you wished he genuinely meant that in another way, he liked you truly, entirely, not just a small part of you. “What’s that even supposed to mean?” You laughed a little, forcing a smile.”Last time you told me you ‘liked me better when I was sick’ should I be worried?” 

Johann’s eyes scanned your face for a second before he went back to pay attention to the stove; he was boiling some water to make you tea, Johann always made you some when he came home, you didn’t know why, he wasn’t even a fan of tea, but the gesture was sweet enough to make you forget how utterly weird it was the fact he only made one cup.

“Worried ‘bout what? I just said I like you when you’re sick because you’re more obedient. That’s it.” He turned to grab some cups from the cupboard as he spoke. “You’re less prone to pull out some bullshit and get hurt.” 

Your face twisted a little into disappointment, oh, so he meant that. With a deep sigh, you tapped your fingers against the table, head resting against the heel of your hand. His words really weren’t laced with any malice, he spoke with his usual soft and calm tone, so you knew he wasn’t jabbing at you or even really blaming you for anything, but it still hurt a little. Noticing your expression Johann quickly approached, leaning over the counter to pat your head, his hand lingering on top as he scratched a little, like you would do with a dog. “Hey, sorry, was I too harsh? Y’know I don’t mean it for real.” “I know, I do. But it just feels bad… I’m always depending on you and I— I’m starting to feel that I’m just a burden, you know.” Johann lifted his hand, the sudden movement making you stare back at him. Eyes widen a little as you notice how his hand is still hovering on top of your head, it was like his brain stopped midway, his black eyes pierced through you. “You’re not a burden. Not for me.” Your head fell downwards as you managed to speak again, fingers fidgeting against the edges of your clothes, Johann’s stare was like a nail digging onto your skin, it felt so fucking unyielding you just wanted to pull back, to get away from his eyes. Why is he even staring at you so intensely? You didn’t say anything that bad.

“Yet I’m still calling you each time I can’t get out of bed in the morning. I really don’t fucking know why my body is like this, I-I’ve been healthy all my life, and then all of the sudden—”

His hand shooted to grab at the sides of your face and tilt it upwards to stare back at him, his fingers weren’t harsh on your skin but you could still feel the lingering threat of his nails about to dig, veins around his forearms bulging with barely restrained rage, yet his face remained so calm. “You’re thinkin’ too much again.” He continued. “Will you just let me take of you? I don’t care if I need to get up the bad at fucking three in the morning to help you go to the bathroom, I will.” 

Your hand reached to grab his, trying to peel it away from your face, but Johann’s doesn’t even budge. “You’re not my family to have me as your responsibility, I’m really thankful, trust me, I am. But you’re my friend, and it’s not your job to take care of me when you’re always busy with college and—.” “I’ll quit college for you then.” What the fuck. Your eyes widen at his words, but he doesn’t look any less cold than a few seconds ago. “W-What…?” “You’re worried I’m wasting my time? I might be. I’m wasting my time by being away when I could be here with you.” 

You should be happy, really, he’s telling you something so sickly sweet yet the way his eyes never waver away from yours, the way he holds your face like he’s about to break you and yet still remains so gentle, the way he’s speaking so carefree about something that important— yes, you really can’t be happy. “What are you talking about? I don’t want you to do that. Hell, you worked so hard for this career!” “I worked hard for this, for us. My career? It’s just a fucking side hobby at this point when I want to distract my head for a little while.”

You didn’t even notice when he walked around the kitchen counter, now he stood there before you, crouched down to meet your eyes. His thumbs caressed your cheeks with a tenderness you never imagined a guy like Johann could have, the feeling helping your already confused and dizzy head become even dizzier. “You know. For the only thing my studies have helped me is to know where to start.” 

“Start—what?” 

A dark chuckle escaped his lips, it was rare to hear him laugh and it was even weirder to see him with such a delighted smile, if you squinted you could even see a small blush forming on his cheeks. His fingers kept caressing your face as he kept your head still, unable to make any movements, forcing you to stare. “Oh, don’t play coy. You said it yourself, your body was never like this, right?” “Feeling sick all of the sudden, being unable to walk sometimes due to your debilitating state, damn, sometimes when I look at you I wonder if you can even breathe for yourself. I would love to help if that isn’t the case.” 

Cold sweat began to form on the palms of the hands you clutched so tightly against his wrists, nails digging past the bandages and reaching to his skin, Johann didn’t even react to the stinging sensation, too lost on the heady feeling of excitement coursing through his veins. Leaning forward he pressed his body against yours, caging you against the chair. “That was me. All me. I even made sure you didn’t do any kind of physical activity to be extra sure you wouldn’t be able to handle it by yourself.” Bile rose inside your throat, what kind of fucked up person could say such things with that gleeful glint in their eyes? Was this the same Johann you knew all your life? Something felt so wrong, something with him was off this time, the hints were there but you were too blind to see.“And eventually like a flower, you bloomed into something beautiful and mine. Scheiße.”Your hands fell helplessly by your sides, you couldn’t even speak anymore, words long gone together with all the thoughts inside your head, the confusion and fear took a toll on you, and your weakened state made you unable to struggle, even if you wished to do so, your brain screaming to fucking kick him and run away. “You look pale, baby. Is your blood sugar running low? Here, let me help you.” Peeling his body away from just a second but not giving you enough room to even stand up Johann reached for something on the counter, you could some kind of paper being ripped, probably with his teeth or the free hand he didn’t hold against your shoulder, and then he went back to look at you again. “Here, say ‘aah’.” 

As you didn’t even make the attempt to move Johann frowned slightly. “Y’know I don’t want to be forceful with you, sometimes I’m afraid you might break if I do too much. But you don’t leave any other options, do you?” 

Next thing you know, Johann’s lips are against yours, tongue sliding with ease against yours, you could even feel his tongue piercing scraping against the roof of your mouth, he lets out a low amused sound like he was approving the taste of your lips. Being suddenly snapped out of your daze your hands reach to clutch against his shirt, clinging onto dear life as he devours you with eagerness. The kiss is unusually sweet, and you notice the small wrapper of the sugar you use for the tea empty on top of the counter. You close your eyes, embarrassed at how utterly disgusted you felt, not because of the sensations or the fact he was kissing you, but at how much you enjoyed it.

Once the two of you separated, you let out a breathy sigh of relief, and Johann wipes away your lips with his thumb, then his with the back of his hand. “There, much better now, right?”

You were right, Johann was truly a meticulous person. 

[marisatomay]

So I do GOTV canvassing during major election cycles for a lot of reasons but a big one is for my own sanity—it’s an opportunity to talk to my community and see what the vibe is going into an election which is a great marker for how people feel about Life in general. So I’ve been doing that for the last few days and today I finally came across a Republican counterpart:

He was about my age but he didn’t have a clipboard or his phone out with a list of houses he was hitting like me he just seemed to be wandering aimlessly in his very bold Susan B Anthony Pro Life Foundation shirt and some flyers like he was just waiting to find someone to talk to instead of doing actual canvassing.

After passing him multiple times on this afternoon’s route he finally came up to us (my brother and me) and asked who we were with and then asked what drew us to the Ds. I said something vague about policy because I was trying to be pleasant but he insisted on knowing The One Thing that had us (me) out canvassing for the Dems and it occurred to me that he had a very Ben Shapiro-ish look on his face. He wanted to debate me. Not my brother who was standing next to me and giving him perturbed look. Me.

So I told him flat out: Abortion. And suddenly it was like a record scratch in his brain. All of the prep for the upcoming debate he wanted to have that everything about his body language was choreographing was gone. Like that one answer hadn’t occurred to him at all.

He stuttered through something like “oh that’s my issue but the other side ahah” before walking away. I was pleasant for the whole interaction but I was firm in my answer. It was weird, though. You work for a “pro life” organization but you can’t pivot when someone says they aren’t? Or was it that I actually said the word instead of dancing around it using euphemisms due to shame? I’m not ashamed. I am pro abortion.

Anyway that was the only republican canvasser I’ve seen out this whole time and he wasn’t even affiliated with the Trump campaign, or any campaign, and seemed very aimless. And I live in a former (as recently as 2016) Republican stronghold within the Philly suburbs. If the Rs want to win Pennsylvania again they needed to regain ground here. If they have, I’m not seeing it. And their ground game certainly isn’t the reason behind it.

One more thing because this shouldn’t matter but it does: this guy had at least 6 inches on me. I’m 5’2” and femme presenting. I look younger than I am especially when I’m not wearing make up like I was this afternoon. For the whole interaction he technically addressed both of us but it was clear that he was talking to me rather than my brick shithouse brother who was standing next to me. He thought I could be intimidated. He picked wrong.

[slut4bill]

All For You - B.Kaulitz

𝜗𝜚 - bill kaulitz x fem!reader

𝜗𝜚 - horror

𝜗𝜚 - mentions of blood, murder, just gore in general

ღ - a/n: decided to try my hand at writing horror while I work on some smut fics...

"Baby" he cooed in your ear, putting on his sweet innocent facade as if he hadn't just brutally murdered your best friend right in front of your eyes. You felt sick to your stomach looking at the bloody scene in front of you, almost gagging when you saw what looked like a chunk of brain next to what used to be a head.

It wasn't always like this of course. When you first met him, he seemed like a sweet, decent guy, much different from the losers you were used to going out with, those men always used to getting praise for doing the bare minimum. Bill, however, would buy you gifts and shower you with love and affection, and in your eyes, he was the best boyfriend you had ever had. Perfect even. But of course, like all good things it had to come to an end, this whole 'perfect boyfriend' act becoming too good to be true. It started slow, as you noticed the way he started to become more protective of you but that was only natural right? He was just being a good boyfriend and it seemed like a sweet gesture. But then he started to get weirdly clingy, never leaving your side, always begging to spend every moment of every day with you which was a bit odd but hey you can't exactly say you hated the attention. Next came the small bit of obsession, it seemed normal at first just a few small mumbled I need yous or a random moment where he accidently blurted out something you swore you had never told him. And then came the killings, almost like a real life scream movie except the murders were never random, always someone you knew, someone you had just talked to the day before you saw their disfigured bloody body on the news. You were terrified when your boyfriend, the guy you loved so much, the guy who you swore would never hurt a fly, came crawling in through your bedroom window covered in blood with a toothy grin on his face as if he had just accomplished the greatest thing in the world. You were frozen in fear, eyes wide open as you tried to wrap your head around the sight in front of you. He trapped you in a warm embrace kissing all over your face assuring you that everything was fine and trying to convince you that all the people he killed had a reason to die.

Bullshit

You were shaken out of your thoughts by the feeling of lips pressing against your neck and the warmth of a pair of arms tightening around your waist. The only sounds filling the atmosphere were the soft clicks of Bills lips leaving your neck with a small 'tch' sound, not seeming to be stopping anytime soon. "Did you like my surprise?" he asked in a hushed tone breaking the silence. What? "What?" I ask more rhetorically than literally as tears brimmed at my waterline threatening to spill at any second. "Did you like my surprise?" he repeats again emphasizing every word this time. "I did this all for you baby, for us" he whispered in my ear as he continued trailing soft kisses down my neck. "Did I like it?" I laughed, "Did I fucking like it are you fucking insane you psycho piece of shit??" I yell as my voice shakes in anger, fear and shock. He looked down at me with a small hint of hurt in his eyes. "Don't yell love I was doing something nice for us" he frowns as if you getting upset about this was unnatural. you look up at him in disbelief. How is he failing to see what exactly is wrong about this? "How is this nice Bill you killed my best friend what is wrong with you-" you cut yourself off as your voice began to crack signaling that you were about to start crying. You sob looking at the lifeless being on the bathroom floor, the tiles already smeared with blood. "My best friend- h-how could you Bill" you asked in a hoarse voice, body still shaking from the breakdown you were having. He just hugged you tighter against his chest leaning down to kiss your cheek. We both stood in silence for a moment before he spoke up again. "She was trying to take you away from me I couldn't have that love you have to understand" he explained trying to reason with you. You were speechless and scared. More scared of your own feelings than the gruesome scene that had just unfolded in front of your eyes. Scared because despite everything he's done, what he just did, a part of you still loved him. And you couldn't bring yourself to push him away. "Let's go get you cleaned up, yeah baby?" he says referring to the small splatters of blood on your face and clothes sure to leave a stain later. You just nod still in shock and not able to properly speak as your mind tries to process everything that just happened. "Arms up" he hums as he lifts your shirt up over your head tossing it on the bloodied ground somewhere. He unclips your bra tossing it near the shirt and bends down to do the same with your jeans and underwear. He helps you step over the body and turns on the shower waiting for the water to heat up. Once it started to get warm, he carefully helped you in the bathtub squirting some shampoo in his hand and lathering it on your head, making sure not to get any in your eyes.

"I love you baby, I always will" he hummed in an affectionate voice, looking at you with nothing but genuine love in his eyes.

and you loved him too.

You were trapped in a living nightmare.

[karaeilishh]

TAKE ME BACK : smut

summary: you're going to a party with your cool girlfriend. When she stops paying you proper attention, you switch to a random guy in a bar. and she won't like it at all...

warnings: dom!billie, sub!brat!reader, jealousy, strap (r receiving), degradation, oral (r/billie receiving), r called a slut many times

w/c: 3,4k

a/n: eng is not my first language! enjoy this dirty shit <33

requests open!

“Hey babygirl. You look upset. Can I please you with a cocktail?”

You roll your eyes once again, sitting on an uncomfortable couch in the corner of some club that Billie brought you to because her friends really wanted to see her. You were on the other side of town and you knew that you wouldn't be home until morning, because it was well past midnight, and your girlfriend didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. Billie was drunk enough and this evening you regretted not drinking alcohol. At least you wouldn't be so bored and lonely.

You've been hanging around your girlfriend for the last two hours so that she would pay attention to you, but her attention was only on her friends, whom she hadn't seen for a whole week. You didn't know why everything turned out this way today, because usually Billie can't take her eyes off you; You put your head on her shoulder, pressed your bare thigh against her thigh, you whispered in her ear, but you only got: “Babe, later.�� Later? Fine. Your patience has run out.

You step onto the dance floor; hungry glances at your beautiful curves. Billie told you to wear that fucking mini dress that hugs every muscle on your stomach, your chest and parts of your thighs. Who can blame other people for their looks when you look like a damn angel? You don't even start dancing; you walk away to someone's brazen whistle; what do these men allow themselves? It's always like with a piece of meat. You want to go to Billie, but the thought of her telling you to just sit in silence again is maddening; you go to the bar. There are a lot of men, but you carefully walk past them and sit on the bar stool. 

“What?” You woke up in a few seconds. There's a guy in front of your face now, no, more like a man. He has an atypical neat outfit for a place like this. The club stinks of other people's sweat and drunk people, but it has a nice perfume. You don't know why you noticed it. His perfume? You can definitely feel it, he leaned closer, repeating his question.

“I asked if I could buy you a drink?” You heard him this time, but you couldn't answer him right away. You can't agree because you're here with your girlfriend, you're taken. But does she even care about you now? After all, nothing will happen if you just talk with someone at the club while your lover is not paying any attention to you. “Please don't tell me you don't drink. I'm not creative for another reason to get to know each other” Actually, you don't drink, but you can agree, right?

“Um, could you get a mojito for me? I don't like strong drinks.” The man nods knowingly and smiles. “Everything for a sweet girl in a bar” He signals to the bartender, apparently they are familiar. 

“Did you hear what the lady said? Mojito. And pour less rum” He turns to you, saying that your mojito will be done in a minute. You nod and thank him, trying to fight the strange feeling in your chest. It's like you're going to be punished for talking to him.

“You're very beautiful, but you're not talkative. I bet you don't go to places like this often?” He tilts his head slightly, as if trying to figure out what and who you're thinking about right now. You adjust your dress and look up at his face. “Yeah, I don't like noisy places.” His gaze darted to your hands resting on your hips.

“I get it. Well, tell me, what's your name?” His voice echoes in your head. You want to tell him that your acquaintance shouldn't go that far, you're going to say “No” when you hear a familiar voice behind you. “No.”The smell of her perfume hits your nose, her tired face with bruises under her eyes is in front of your eyes, her hair is scattered on your bed. Her voice is usually gentle, but not now.

“I'm sorry?” He's not looking at you. He's looking at someone behind you and you know exactly who it is. Her hands are on your waist, on your hips. She's only been here for a few seconds, but she's already been able to claim you. You can't see her face, but you know damn well she's giving your new friend a murderous stare right now. “Apology accepted” The next moment, she drags you through a crowd of drunk and stoned people right to the exit of the club. She's a little shaky because of the amount she's drunk. It's cool outside, but your body is burning because of her. Billie drags you on until you're around the corner where no one will bother you. Your body hit a cold brick wall, her voice cut through the tense air between you, you shuddered. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Your fingertips touch the wall behind you, her drunken breath on your face. You didn't like it when she drank, but the smell of alcohol was never annoying. “I was just talking to him.” You sound quieter and more insecure than you thought you'd be. Your eyes are directed straight to her eyes, hungry and greedy, you are breathing heavily. “Is that why he's ordering you a drink and trying to find out your name? Have you even seen the way he looks at you? If he offered to fuck you, would you be so responsive?”Her voice is loud and a little hysterical. Her hands are in the pockets of her shorts, but you can feel how much she wants to touch you.

“You're exaggerating, Billie.” You look at her, your voice is cold, but everything inside you is burning. You know that she always turns you on like that, even though you hide it. “Am I exaggerating? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” She grins, her hand on your wrist, until she interlaces your fingers randomly. She takes you to the car and you try to tell her that she can't drive, but she shuts you up. “If you act like a slut, I'll treat you like a slut.” Billie pushes you into the car and buckles your seat belt. She's so damn angry, the veins in her arms are bulging, but she still cares about you, and this one makes your hips clench harder. It makes you wet. The air in the car heats up when she slams the door and sits in the driver's seat. Her gaze is focused on the road, but her mind has turned into your home.

The long drive home is accompanied by her rapid breathing. You can literally hear her heartbeat. You can see the different scenarios of that night unfolding in her head. All of them are ended by your face pressed against the mattress while she fucks you. Her hand squeezes her hip, she bites her lip and you feel what's happening to her. You know for sure. You gently take her hand and put it between your legs. She swallows hard, her fingers squeeze your skin and you melt under her touch. “You're fucking driving me crazy, you know that?” She parks the car in the garage of your house, and the next thing you remember is her all over your body, when you crash into the bedroom door, Billie, dragging you inside. Your body falls onto the mattress, your breathing is knocked out, and your hair is already slightly disheveled.

“You're going to have to apologize properly, angel.” You're breathing heavily, looking into her eyes with obvious desire. You feel completely naked under her gaze, which screams at you that you are a fucking slut. For her. Billie's movements are feverish as she pulls off her shorts, reaches for your favorite drawer in your bedroom. Your eyes widen when she picks up your favorite strap. His curves were perfect for you, hitting the right spots. You're looking at it greedily. And Billie saw it.

"Such a greedy girl for a dick, don’t you?" She grins as she puts the toy down on the bed next to you. Her body hovers over yours as she devours you with her gaze. Her hand flies to your neck, squeezing tighter than usual. "I wanna destroy, babe. I wanna fucking destroy you so that you learn your lesson." Your mind is drifting because of her words, you want to push her to do it.

"It was your fault." You look into her eyes, clearly seeing something snap inside her. Her grip on your neck tightens and you feel like you're getting less air. "What?" Her voice was so threatening that you were almost sure your underwear was already soaked. You knew that no matter how mean she was, she would never hurt you more than you asked for.

"I said it was your fault. You ignored me all night! What are you-" Your words get caught in your throat when you feel a painful blow on your thigh. You swallow hard, looking into your girlfriend's eyes. You've seen her lose control when you act like this. But how can she blame you when you're so desperately begging her to destroy you?

"You dare accuse me of acting like a slut, craving my attention? Well, you'll get it." Billie's voice drips with arrogance. She knew she should have given you some attention, but she's always been too much of a bitch to admit she was wrong.

She pulls you to your feet, forcing you to stand in front of her as she attaches the strap on her hips and sits on the edge of the bed. "You wanna be a brat, babe? Then I'll have to shut you up." She looks up at you, then leans down and whispers, "Knees."

Right now, you want nothing more than to drop to your knees and take her strap so deep that tears run down your cheeks and your knees are red. "I'm not being a brat." You hiss, looking into her eyes. You know this won't turn out well.

"Didn't you hear me?" She raises an eyebrow and pushes you down, causing your knees to hit the floor hard. You whine, clutching her knees for support. “Angel, don’t make me move your head on my own. I know you want this.”

You gasp at her words, tucking your loose hair behind your ears. You lean down slowly, running your tongue along the length of her cock. Your eyes lock onto her face as you slowly push the strap into your mouth. Maybe your slowness was on purpose. “Come on babygirl, I know you can do better.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing your hair. Your head moves at an unusually fast pace. You grip her hips tighter, trying to slow her down and suppress your gag reflex. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to keep up the pace and not choke on the silicone in your mouth. You try to moan her name, but Billie just smirks.

“Good sluts don’t complain, huh, babe?” She pulls your head away from her cock, holding your hair. Your lips are smeared with your spit, your cheeks are wet with tears. You breathe heavily. “You are my good slut, aren’t you? Use your words.”

“Yes, yes I am…” You swallow hard, looking at your girlfriend with undisguised desire. You knew this night would be long, very long. “Very good….”

Billie takes your hands and lays you down on the bed, her eyes wandering over your body, your mess. “Such a beautiful angel for me. Too bad I have to ruin you.” She chuckles and you whine, squeezing your thighs together tighter. She reaches for your legs, lifting your dress up to your waist. Billie smiled at the beautiful underwear you’re wearing . “For me?” She smiles, spreading your legs and pressing two fingers into your soaked panties. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping!”

You gasp when you finally feel her hands on you. You bite your bottom lip, watching her tease you. “Did you get wet kneeling in front of me? Or was it when I called you a slut at the club, hm?” Her eyes are playful as she looks into yours. You both know the answer, you both know that she doesn’t have to do anything to you to get you wet. “At the club…” You answer quietly and Billie bites her lip. God, she looked so sexy doing that.

"And who are you so wet for, huh?" She takes off your dress over the top, her mouth flies to your breasts. She bites it through the fabric of a lace bra. You moan, throwing your head back. "You, you, Billie… Please!" Your despair causes sincere satisfaction in your girlfriend. She knows that you will never want to leave her for someone else. She will make you squirm under her touch while you repeat that she is the only one for you.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me,” Billie praises, kissing and biting down your beautiful body. She adored your body. Such a divine and only hers. You could feel the marks on your skin under her touch. “Bils, I need you. I really need you...” You're whimpering, making her smile.

“Do you think you can handle it?” She bites her lower lip, tilting her head to the side. Her gaze makes your body weaken even more. She had no idea what kind of influence she had on you. “Yes, yes I can, I promise!” You get up on your elbows to get a better look at her face.

“What a dirty girl,” Billie giggles, bending down to pick up the edge of your underwear with her teeth. Oh, you were crazy when she did that. Her every action, her every breath and look made you lose yourself in love with her. Even if she was going to destroy you right now. Your woman.

“Baby, you're so wet. Is my girl ready for me yet?” She smiles, easily sliding two fingers into you. Her palm pressed against your clitoris, adding extra friction. Her fingers slid inside you so easily that you were ashamed of how wet you were because of her. “Just shut up...”You exhaled heavily, covering your face with your hands. She laughed.

“Oh, my little slut wants to shut me up? I don't think it's going to work, baby.” Billie abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips. She greedily licks each phalanx of her fingers, moaning contentedly. You looked at her from under your eyelashes, still feeling the aching emptiness without her fingers inside you. As soon as Billie cleaned her fingers, she licked her lips, bending over your body. “You need to learn to watch your tongue, angel.”

These words sounded more harsh than anything else. Billie grabbed your hips and turned you over on your stomach. Your face was buried in the mattress and your ass was hanging in the air when Billie left a few ringing slaps on your delicate skin. “Hey!” You're whimpering, looking at her over your shoulder. “Oh, spare me those pathetic sounds.” She presses your head against the mattress, burying her hand in your hair. The tip of her strap teases your entrance, making you gasp with desire.

“Please, Bils...”You close your eyes, praying that she will give you what you want. “Not a brat anymore? It seems you just need a dick to shut that beautiful mouth.” She grins and you feel her cock slamming into you. Silicone slides easily inside you, making you grab the sheets and whimper into the it. After making a few slow thrusts, you feel Billies's hips against yours. She entered completely. “That's it, baby. You take me so well...”

You let loud moans fly from your lips when Billie finds the perfect angle, driving into all the right points. There are new tears in your eyes. A new pleasure. Your hair is disheveled and tangled because of your girlfriend's tight grip, and there is no trace of evening makeup left. She's always made you like this. She destroyed you with her presence, her voice, her gaze, her dick. “Faster...”

Billie grins at your plea, but obediently complied with your request, pushing into you with a new speed. You grab the sheets, looking at her over your shoulder. How sexy she looked. “Where's my sweet angel, huh? You're such a mess, baby.” You whimper when you see how she looks at you.

“Billie... I'm so close...”You're mumbling to yourself, praying that she'll hear. Of course she did. But she was such a bitch tonight. “What? Angel, I don't understand a word...”She was teasing and playing with you. You both knew what she was waiting for.

You want to sigh, but only moans come out of you. On trembling and weak hands, you get up on your elbows and try to talk to her the way she wants. Politely. “Billie, I wanna cum... Please, can I?” You immediately fall back, burying your face in the sheets, when pornographic moans come out of your mouth.

“Mm, such a polite girl... Cum for me” You laugh hysterically, feeling your walls squeeze her strap. It was the best feeling in the world. Your eyes are tightly closed, you literally bite the sheets, arching your back as you cum on her dick. You can't see her face, but you can tell for sure that she's smiling, watching what she's did to you. Not that guy from the bar, not anyone else. She. Only she could do it.

“Jesus, Bils...”You're breathing heavily, lifting your head from the wet sheets. Her strap is still moving inside you, helping you overcome a hard orgasm. “That's it, baby, you did so well...”She praises you by stroking your hair. It's one step from tenderness to rudeness, huh? Her grip tightens abruptly, forcing you to look at her through tears. “God, my poor baby. What a pity that I'm not finished with you yet” You're breathing hard, your mouth is dry, and you're sticking your tongue out like a fucking puppy after her games. Billie leans closer, her face inches from yours, and you already know what she's going to do. You always know what's behind that look. She collects saliva in her mouth for a few seconds and spits on your fucking tongue. As if you didn't ask for it yourself. Her warmth spreads over your tongue and you close your mouth. “Swallow” You obey and she gently kisses your cheekbone. The only thing she did gently this evening.

Billie turns you over on your back, laying your head on the pillows. She settles between your legs, devouring your body with her gaze. “Open wide for me, love” She purrs and you obediently spread your weak legs. Billie runs his fingers through your folds, collecting moisture. She brings her fingers to your mouth. “Suck” You swallow hard and take two of her fingers in your mouth, circling each with your tongue.

While you're engrossed in her fingers, Billie bends down to your pussy and runs her tongue over it, making you sigh and bite her. She hums into your flesh, looking up at you with adoring eyes. “No teeth, baby.” She grins and continues to devour you like a hungry animal.

Your sensitivity made itself felt and you tried to pull out her fingers to tell her, but she just pressed them against your tongue, depriving you of any opportunity to speak. You instinctively raised your hips, warning her. Your legs were shaking with pleasure and pain from over-stimulation. Your heels were crumpling the fabric of her shirt. You almost choked her with your hips. But she was just getting turned on.

Billie tapped your hips, giving you tacit permission to cum again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, showing you the stars of pleasure. You can't help but bite her fingers again, but this time she lets you, seeing your condition. She helps you get through your orgasm and gets up to put her head on your chest.

“I'm so proud of you, dove... But we'll have to change the sheets.” She starts laughing, and you can't help but pick up on her laughter, even though you're a little embarrassed. You gently run your hand through her hair, removing the hair band that has almost come off her hair. You put the band on your wrist and hug her tightly.

“You know you're my only one, right?”

“I know, angel.”

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09, @ncm9696 , @klaus223492, @freshloveforthefit (thank you so much for the support, girls 💋)

author’s note: girls, i’m really sorry for the sudden disappearance. i had work plus lots to deal in life and a bad situationship that ended horribly, so now i have more time and i’ll be back with more updates. this is the next chapter of “why can’t i hate you?” and matt is gonna spill some secrets, stay tuned. hehe.

chapter four.

after finally getting home, you went to bed without checking your phone. chris was still sending messages and you also saw matt’s name on the notifications. but considering the earlier events, both matt’s and chris behaviour, you needed time to think before talking to them. you hated acting out of emotions, people hurt each other in the heat of the moment and that could possibly lead to a cycle end and to be honest, even though chris was suddenly acting like a fucking possessive person, you didn’t want to lose him.

eventually, you fell asleep hugging one of your pillows with a hundred thoughts in mind.

it’s monday, you got up late and went to work in a rush. only having time to take a kick shower and brush your teeth. at this point, you had 30 messages and since there was literally no time to actually read them, you just drove to work in completely silence. half of your brain was a war, the other half was completely calm, thinking in a racional way. the problem is you’re not being able to balance those two things like you usually do.

the day was extremely slow and stressful, some clients had a lot of questions and repeated them multiple times, so you had to explain over and over with your mind already full of thoughts.

you didn’t have lunch break either, a way of coping with an overflowing mind was throwing yourself in work but when was time to go home, your whole body was rigid and in pain.

you went home driving slowly, still in complete silence but your phone starts ringing.

“not right now, chris.” you whisper to yourself rolling your eyes but after a quick glance at the screen, you see matt’s name.

after thinking for a bit, you decided to pullover to answer the call, something inside your heart told you to.

“hi.” he says, and you look at the sky trying to keep your mind clear.

“hey…” you reply, but he doesn’t say anything for a while. with frowned eyebrows, you ask. “did you meant to call someone else?”

“no, it’s just…” you hear a loud sigh. “do you wanna meet me somewhere? we need to talk.”

“um, i’m almost home.” you said, pondering if that was a good idea. “wanna meet me there?”

“good, i’m already here.” you heard him say and before you could answer, he hang up.

you drove faster, but safely. nothing could take the thoughts out off of your mind, the memories from last night and the theories of what matthew could possibly have to say.

the thing is, no one messes with your head when it comes to mixed actions. especially men. they were all like that, you just assume what’s going on in their head and they act all surprised because you’re usually right. and until days ago, you knew matthew. you knew by the way he reacted to your teasing, every single thought he had. but after last night… everything is a blur, you don’t know what to think, you have no control over your emotions, you can’t even say no when he asks to meet you out of nowhere in such a hard day.

before you noticed, you got home. no one was there which made you confused but not surprised, maybe he left after getting impatient? that’s so him.

after parking the car in the garage, you slowly open the door entering still confused. everything was dark and before you could touch the light switch, someone grabbed you by the waist, turning you around. your heart skipped a beat, you grip the person’s hand and twist it with a quick move, making them face the wall.

“hey, hey. it’s me, matt!” he gasps, yelling.

your eyes widen, staring for a second at the back of matt’s head. “the fuck are you doing? how did you get inside?” you ask firmly.

“the spare key, under the plant…” he’s out of breath, almost moaning in pain from your grip. “nick told me.”

you roll your eyes, letting matt’s hand go and buffing. “that kid needs to shut his mouth.”

he sighs, massaging his wrist and biting his lips. you observe him, the way he’s sensitive to touch. the lack of sleep and rest probably got to you because wide things went through your mind.

“don’t ever do that again.” you tell him, throwing your purse on the couch and taking off your blazer. matthew is staring at you without saying anything. you raise a brow.

“what?” you ask and he looks away, scratching the back of his neck.

“nothing, it’s just… you look different wearing that.” he says still not looking at you. “usually you dress like a homeless person.”

“you came here to talk or tease me?” you ask with an annoyed face and he chuckles. that was the first time you heard his little laugh or saw a smile that wasn’t mean on his lips.

“sorry, i…” he finally looks at you, staring at your eyes while leaning against your living room wall. “can i ask you a question?”

the girl looks at the blue eyed boy for a few seconds, confused. what exaclty he could possibly be so curious about and why is he being so… different?

“go on.” she says, taking her heels off.

“do you have a thing for chris?” his voice is low, but loud enough for her to hear. he holds his breath, trying hard not to punch himself for being so stupid.

“why?” she raises a brow, walking to the couch and sitting there, crossing her legs with a nonchalant and calm face.

“you can’t answer a question with another one.” he rolls his eyes and heads to the couch next to hers, sitting calmly.

“i never thought about it.” she replies his question honestly, she really didn’t think about it until the day before when the whole thing happened. “he’s my best friend, i look at him and see my soulmate.” she notices a certain discomfort on matt’s face but decides to ignore it and continue her thoughs. “but not in that way.”

“not what it looked like yesterday.” he says before thinking, internally screaming at himself and she tilts her head again, laughing. “what’s so funny?”

“what’s with you, matt?” she asks him, frowning.

“what do you mean?”

“if i didn’t know you i’d say you’re jealous.”

“bullshit, and you don’t know me.”

“then why?”

“what?”

“why do you care if i’m into chris or not?”

he avoids her penetrating gaze for a few seconds, maybe for a full minute and knowing he couldn’t escape the question, he finally looks at her again.

“because i can’t allow it to happen.” he says firmly, clenching his jaw.

if she was confused before, now the girl was puzzled beyond words and thoughts.

“you think i’m gonna hurt chris? because i would ne…”

“that’s not why.” he interrups her, his eyes telling her more than his words. “i can’t bare to see you with him, that’s all.”

“why?”

an urge to get up and walk towards him washes over the girl’s body, she goes almost in slow motion and matthew follows her steps without blinking.

“why?” she asks again, now right in front of him. he’s looking up at her, his jawline is clenched and his hands are gripping his jeans.

“because…” he whispers, his voice cracking and she bends over facing him closely, matt lets out a sigh with her breath hitting his face. “because if you can’t be mine you won’t be his either.”

[leezlelatch]

I love your writing and style. It's been a hard week and it's made me happy after discovering it. Just wondering if you, if you had the time, could write a slightly smutty drabble. I love your take on protective doll baby Copia. He's perfect.

With the last few months I'd love to read a ficlette where he discovers the reader almost in tears after being torn down by people, told that she's worthless, and now doubting herself because of the complete lack of self esteem which is even worse after this. Copia goes into DarkCopia mode while loving her like the badass he is. He doesn't like it when people hurt his gal. And he makes sure she knows how much worth he sees in her.

Truly though, even if you don't have time...your stuff has made me happy. <3

Hello, my friend. I'm so sorry this week has been hard. I hope it has improved, and I am so happy that my writing has made a difference! Here is a little something for you from me, and Copia. <3

Copia x Reader - hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive, a little smutty, protective Copia, suggestively Dark!Copia.

The old key slipping into the lock rouses you from your light doze, and your eyes feel heavy as you turn over, watching as Copia steps into his quarters, his gaze lowered as he shifts his takeout bag from one hand to the other, depositing the key back into his pocket. He raises his head, and you make eye contact. Two things happen in that moment that makes the hair raise on your arms, and your heart warm with affection at the same time. Copia takes in the sight of you, curled up like a burrito in his blanket, your nose tucked into the fabric, eyes red. He knows it’s because you’re trying to find comfort in his scent. He knows you, in and out. His expression freezes in a ghastly stare, his eyes narrowed, lips set in a deep frown which accentuates the wrinkles around his mouth. His brows are pulled down, and he appears paler than he usually does. In short, he looks ready to hurt someone. 

But then it falls away. Cold fury melting into concern, and he drops his bag at the door, uncaring as the takeout boxes tumble and rest on their sides in his haste to reach you. Gloved hands pull you from the blankets, settling you across his lap, his arms cradling you. His face grows very close to yours, searching your eyes with a certain desperation. Copia is another person when it comes to you. The endearing, funny Papa is gone and replaced by someone who is calculating, smart, one step ahead. The real him. The one he hides, the clergy unaware that the puppet is actually the puppet master. You’re precious to him, and there is nothing this man would not do to keep you happy and safe.

“Baby,” he says very softly, his accent curling around the endearment. “Tell Papa what happened, eh?” His thumb rubs beneath your eye. “What are the tears for?”

“I had a hard day,” you respond, your voice a little hoarse. His brow furrows, and one of his hands slides its way down your body, feeling, prodding gently, as if he were checking for some external injury. “I’m okay, Copia.”

“Okay is not finding il mio amore all wrapped up and crying.” He works at removing a glove, slipping each finger out of the leather. He flexes his hand once it’s removed, and it makes you smile, even if just a little. Copia said to you before that he was used to it, but you know the constricting leather became a little much after a long day. 

“Somebody said something to me today,” you murmur, taking his hand and holding it to your face. His fingers cradle your jaw, the warmth of his skin encouraging you to speak. “And I feel like I just…can’t do right. That I’m not right. I can’t even face myself in the mirror because I’m afraid of what I’ll see.” You pause, gathering your thoughts. “I’m afraid to see that they’re right.”

Copia sucks in a shaky breath when you finish, and you can already see his mind working. “My love, I don’t want you going after anyone,” you say, reaching to grasp his chin, squeezing it gently. “I’m not telling you this to make you angry.”

He stares down at you, and then he nods slowly. Copia shifts back onto the bed so his back is against the wall and he adjusts his hold on you, looking thoughtful as his fingers pick up a soothing rhythm against your cheek. “There are a few things I need to be correcting, amore. And I need you to be good for your Papa, and listen. I will never allow a single soul in this building or elsewhere to hurt you. That goes for all our Siblings, but you are not just a Sibling, sì? You are my amore. Also,” he clicks his tongue. “The peoples are wrong. They will learn that they are wrong. And you, vita mia, also need to be corrected.”

You’re listening intently, your eyes trained on his features, adoring how expressive his features are when he speaks, but his last words make you pause. “I have to be corrected?” That was the last thing you expected to hear. 

“Yes,” Copia says, drawing out the word, his expression set. You’re bewildered when he doesn’t elaborate, letting out a sound of surprise as he firmly guides you up and out of the bed. 

“Copia, no-,” you begin to protest as he approaches the full length mirror near his dresser, your hand tightly wrapped in his grip. Copia pins you with a look that shuts your mouth, and he takes you by the shoulders, setting you directly in the reflection of the mirror. 

“We shall start here,” he says, his fingers tapping beneath your chin. “You will watch, and listen.” Copia circles you like a vulture, his hands clasped behind his back. “When you smile, I want to smile too.” His voice has lowered, tender and affectionate. “I am not so proud of my teeth, but I would smile ear to ear just to match your joy. That is healing for me, amore. You do that.”

Fingers brush your cheek. “You blush at the sight of me. At the sight of me. So beautiful and sweet, and I am sure that I have seen the depths of paradise. And the way your eyes light up when you’re excited, oh…,” he laughs softly to himself, his voice almost a coo. “Do you realize how lucky I am to know your eyes? To watch your brow furrow or rise. To see emotion pass over your face. To read the story of your life through every blemish and line.”

Your breath is stolen from your lungs, and you’re already crying. Copia’s hands shake as they grasp your hips, standing now close behind you, his voice a gentle whisper in your ear. His breath makes you shiver, and you feel his hips shift against your backside. “You’re biased,” you whisper, and he laughs.

“I am very proud of this, amore. It is a gift to be biased,” he murmurs, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. “It is a gift to have you.” His hands slip beneath your shirt, grasping and kneading at soft skin. You make a breathless noise, leaning back against him, and Copia almost purrs. “Hmm, you are liking your Papa’s touches?”

They slip higher, fingers grazing your nipples, and he pauses there. You whimper, caught between your emotions and your arousal, and Copia knows how to play you like the finest instrument. When to touch, and when to pause, letting it all wash over you, giving you the time you need to feel safe in his arms. “Your body,” he says, pressing his hips firmly into the curve of your ass. “Ignites a fire inside of me, you know? I am incomplete when I am not joined with you.” He’s almost growling now, a rough edge to his voice. 

You’re spun around in his arms and he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue thoroughly plundering your mouth and rendering you incapable of any thought. Copia has a talent at making you forget, and suddenly the cruel words from today have all but vanished from your mind. “I love you,” he hisses, nipping at your bottom lip. His hand grasps your chin, raising your eyes to his, and his tone softens. “I love you.”

He kisses you softly now, his lips curling into a smile. “You are worth everything. You don’t need to look into the mirror, amore, just look into my eyes. I see you. I see the glory in you. And you will always have a home with me. You are safe with me.”

Another tear falls down your cheek and he kisses it away. “I love you, too,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his. Your hand slips beneath the waistband of his trousers, and he gasps, arching into your touch.

“Do not think,” he murmurs, his voice a little strained as he pushes you toward the bed. “That this does not mean they will be…removed. Papa protects what is his.”

[half-oz-eddie]

I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)

Part 3/5

For the next 3 weeks, it had become nearly impossible for Buck and Tommy to have much free time to see each other.

And see each other, in Buck’s mind, is having one on one time with Tommy, without Eddie. Sure “hanging out with the boys” was fun and all, but there was a lighter element in the air when Buck was alone with Tommy. He couldn’t quite describe it, but sometimes, he preferred it, craved it, even. He could be sitting right next to Tommy during a beer and movie night with Eddie and still feel so far away from him.

The most interesting surprise for Buck was Tommy texting him during one of their movie nights.

They shared a glance, smiling at one another.

That’s really weird. I can’t say that!

Buck tucked his lips in, trying to contain himself. Tommy was sitting close by and he didn’t want him to see a big, stupid smile on his face.

When he briefly glanced up at Tommy, he was already looking his way. Buck shot him a half-smirk and a nod, and Tommy nodded back.

His heart was racing again.

Tommy’s really cool.

The next day, Buck and Tommy met for dinner and beers. They joked, they laughed, they had a great time.

“How’ve you been doing? I know you told me plenty about how Gerrard’s been treating you. You okay?”

“As okay as I’ll ever be. I miss Bobby. The energy of the 118 is…different now. I just hate it. I love my job. But I-I hate this feeling.”

Tommy nodded in understanding. “Sometimes change can be good, but sometimes change can ruin your day-to-day life. Especially when it’s a person single-handedly trying to make your life a living hell.”

“Exactly. That’s all he’s been doing for weeks.”

Tommy looked at Buck with soft, sympathetic eyes. His gaze felt like a comforting hug, and Buck couldn’t look away. He couldn’t resist the urge to just fall in.

“Evan…I know it’s not easy.” Tommy smiled. “But you’re doing great. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Buck broke eye contact, sheepishly looking away. “I-I just feel a little defeated sometimes.”

“I’m sure Bobby will get his job back sooner or later. It’s just the natural order of things. The 118 belongs together, right?”

Buck nodded in agreement. “Right!”

“Ready to get outta here and head to the theater?”

“Uh—yeah. Let’s go.”

After seeing a double feature of two amazing films Buck had never even heard of, Tommy rode with him in an Uber back to his place and Buck offered him a cup of coffee.

“Hey, so, Wednesday, you’re coming with us for drinks, right?”

Tommy sadly sighed. “Sorry, I can’t. I have a date.”

“A-a date?” Buck forced a smile. Why did this bother him so much? “Who’s the lucky person?”

“Just…someone I met during my run.” Tommy answered dismissively. “But maybe we can do something next weekend?”

Buck nodded. “Y—ah—yeah—yeah. Next weekend sounds great.”

“Great!” Tommy looked down at his phone. “My Uber should be here in 5, I’m gonna head down. Text you when I get home.”

“Okay uh…see you later.”

Buck held his breath until the door shut behind Tommy and he let out an exasperated sigh, shoulders drooping with disappointment.

He wasn’t sure what was bothering him, until he remembered what Tommy said at dinner.

Sometimes change can be good, but sometimes change can ruin your day-to-day life. Especially when it’s a person single-handedly trying to make your life a living hell.

Not that whoever Tommy was dating would intend to make his life hell in some way, but just the thought of spending less time with Tommy made him feel a loneliness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Buck felt strangely about the way their conversation ended. He only had himself to blame for being so dismissive. He couldn’t fight the nagging thought that he had to fix it somehow.

Buck didn’t want the conversation to end. It was late, and surely they were both exhausted, but every second that passed, he felt like Tommy was slowly slipping away from him.

He hated this stupid thought. Tommy didn’t belong to him. Tommy was his friend. He was Eddie’s friend. He was everyone at the 118’s friend.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that they shared a special friendship. One unlike the friendship he shared with everyone else. Buck was the only one Tommy wanted to take on weekly hiking trips. Buck was the one Tommy texted late at night to just talk and distract him from what stressed him out. In a way, Buck felt like Tommy was his.

And he was going to lose him.

[m4iya]

Scrambling to the deadline

Kenma Kozume

Light from your laptop reflected all over your face, coating the corners of your dark room. The windows were sealed shut, though your curtains were wide open. You watched all the people having fun outside while you were stuck in here, working on an assessment. You felt like that one Squidward meme of him sadly looking outside the window of his room.

Cupping your hands in your face, you groaned. How on earth were you meant to get this done tonight? An essay that you finished half of, a reflection you hadn’t even started, a documentation of your progress… you gave up counting right there. Your fingers flickered across the mousepad, bringing you back to the task notification document. Eyes scanning the page, you began to understand why they had given the students 3 weeks to complete everything.

It was 8:00pm, the task was due at 12:00am. You never slept this early, but you felt like you could barely keep your eyes open. Each sentence you typed, the imaginary word bank filled of phrases to increase your word count shrank.

‘In order to…’, ‘According to…’, …because of the fact that…’

Maybe someone could help you out a little. Someone who was probably free right now. Opening your phone, you made a quick call.

You could hear him grumbling alongside the shuffling of his feet even before he entered your dorm room. ‘why did I even call him..’ you wondered to yourself.

Suddenly, the door creaked open and soon after, was slowly shut as he walked in already complaining. “What do you want..” He muttered, his Nintendo switch in hand, and his backpack slouched over his back. It seemed like he was already glued to it before he walked in.

“Kenma… I’m gonna fail College”

“Me too”

“You’re supposed to tell me I won’t!”

Dropping the bag onto the floor, he slides off his slippers and lazily slumps over your bed, still focused on his game. You turn back to your laptop, your back beginning to hurt you from the way you were arched.

You continued working on whatever you could, background music and clicking in the background, providing a sort of ambience.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, you rubbed your eyes and sat up each time your head dipped into a short nap. This cycle continued for a few minutes before Kenma took notice.

“Here” His voice shook you awake, immediately turning your head to face him. He was offering you a can of energy drink. You had been in such a trance that you failed to even notice him slide off the bed and open the bag he was lugging around.

“Oh.. Thank you so much” Grabbing it from his hand, the cool exterior coated your fingertips. Taking a big sip, you felt the cool drink trail down the inside of your body, finally feeling somewhat rejuvenated.

Cracking open the can he bought for himself; he sat on the foot of your bed.

“So, what’s this about?” He asked, taking a gulp. You were surprised that he seemed to have turned off his game, but he even went the extra mile to ask about your work? You explained the task you had to complete, and briefly outlined the topic, watching as a disinterested scowl formed on his face. ‘Ah, there it is’, you thought to yourself.

He seemed surprised when you told him how much you had left, as though he was wondering why you were so stressed.

“That’s all?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s all!?’”

Sliding off the foot of the bed, he stood at your side, crouching down so your desk was at eye level.

“Can I get a paper?”

“Sure..” You replied, ripping a piece of paper from your notebook as he picked up the pen which was holding your textbook open.

“What was it you said you had?” “This essay, a reflection, a documentation of my progress, and a reference list”.

“And what have you started?”

“Well, I’m about halfway through the essay. And I’ve been working on the documentation”

He wrote down a short list of what you had completed and what you needed to do.

“How long is your reflection supposed to be?” He muttered, tapping the pen on his head.

“100 words”

“And the reference list?”

“I’ll use a website to do it for me”

Falling back onto his butt, he sighed loudly. “Why are you stressing so much..? You’re practically finished..”

Once he said that, you began to actually consider the amount of work you had done, suddenly regaining some motivation to continue under the precedent that you might actually finish on time. Maybe you really were stressing too much.

Behind you, Kenma pulled his laptop out from his bag. “I’ll make the reference list for you” he offered.

“You don’t have to..” This was pretty out of character for him. You wondered why he was so eager to help out today.

“I have nothing else to do..” he muttered, hiding the fact that he had finished all his games and was currently too broke to buy anything new.

He opened up a text document, and began filling the reference list with websites he saw opened on your laptop.

The quiet warmth budding between the two of you filled the small room. You found yourself concentrating more than before, flying through paragraphs as all the words seemed to come to you in an instant. Suddenly, the sounds of others having fun outside became white noise to you; you were comfortable here, in the quiet atmosphere of your dorm room.

Resting your fingers for a brief moment, you slouched back in your chair, shutting your eyes and inhaling deeply, allowing the sound of Kenma’s typing away to fill your ears.

Sure, you were inside your small, cramped dorm room. Yes, it was a little suffocating and was starting to smell like energy drinks, and yeah, your neck was kinda hurting too. But you had him beside you, keeping you company. And he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

[lilybecca1]

I open TikTok and of course this is the first thing that came up

And it's true. I think we all tend to look past how broken Bakugou Katsuki actually is, and how he's been broken down piece by piece ever since the beginning of the manga. So they say he hasn't gotten any karma for what he said to Izuku? He was literally one of the people who suffered the most in the entire story.

His entire world was flipped upside down, he went through feelings of betrayal when he thought Izuku lied to him his whole life, his own insecurities have been brought forth almost every moment, his ego was beaten down episode by episode, which yeah, we can say he deserved that, but that doesn't mean it wasn't any less painful and that he didn't suffer through all that humiliation and constantly being reminded that he isn't unbeatable, that he's weak.

And he also had his fair share of panic attacks, more than most of the others. He was humiliated and his weakness was shown for the whole world to see when he got kidnapped, and had to experience everyone believing that he could turn into a villain when his whole life was basically about how much he wanted to be a hero. And if we look back at how many times we've seen him cry, which is also more than most of the others, then it's a lot, especially for a person who is supposed to be someone who doesn't cry, who always remains strong. Yet he was the one that always broke down, that had to deal with the most inner turmoil in the span of that one year, which must have been a hell of a hard time of suffering for him after years and years of suppressing those emotions.

In the beginning of the manga, he started off as someone egoistic with a superior complex who would never ever admit that he was wrong, and by the end of it we got someone who apologized out of his own will. For someone like the person that he was, to even consider, yet alone want to apologize, on his own will, without anyone pushing him to do so, is a big fucking thing.

We forget the fact that these children have literally went through hell, emotionally, physically, mentally. They're just CHILDREN. Hell, Bakugo literally died, if that year wasn't traumatic enough for him. He had to experience what it feels like to lose someone important, first with All Might (the fact that he caused it adds even more to it), then losing Deku, then losing his OWN LIFE. And yes, he did lose Deku, because when he was in the hospital, the others literally told him that there's no way of knowing if Deku would even wake up or not. Do you guys have any idea how it would feel to hear THAT about someone you care about? That they might not even wake up? When you haven't even apologized about everything that you have done to him, haven't come clean about your past to him?

Yeah no, shit, I know it must have terrified Bakugo like hell. Then he ended up losing Deku again when Deku left UA to begin his Vigilante Arc. He left without saying goodbye after Bakugo thought he might lose him, now tell me that isn't painful enough as it is.

This guy went through fucking hell, people should stop throwing so much shit on him. He's been broken to the point that he basically became an entire different person than who he was. And I don't care that he told Izuku to jump, because he is not that person anymore, and not just because he apologized. No, that person has been beaten down rough, left broken, alone, confused and in pain, not understanding his own feelings. The person that he used to be was beaten down and left so broken, that he couldn't be built back into the same person anymore. He went through trauma after trauma, went through all kind of emotional turmoil, pain, anguish, shock, humiliation, guilt, remorse, and worst of all, he died, losing his life at just 16 years old.

He came back to life NOT the same person that he was. Not the same heart, not the same feelings. Whether you understand it or not, that guy is not the Bakugou Katsuki that he used to be, and he never will be. All that anger, that shell around his heart has been broken into millions of pieces, leaving only this pure and sensitive soul who has gone through too much pain to comprehend.

Trauma changes you, it makes you become a completely new person. Bakugou Katsuki died in the war, and it's Bakugou Kacchan who came back to life and survived to live on.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Mortality Defined

Masterlist Word count: 1.6 k Halsin x Reader Read on AO3

Summary: You are a human, Halsin is an elf. Your lifespan is much shorter than his and he wonders if life is worth living if you're not in it.

Writer's note: I don't know why but I still can't post a full work here. I don't know why. If anyone has any solutions for me, please let me know. I'm getting frustrated.

The year changes from sunlit beach days to a sunset of leaves. Halsin always admires this time of year. The dying of the world in anticipation for new life. It's a wonderful thing and something he often ponders on.  A year is an hour in the long, long lifespan of an elf. In Halsin's busy and chaotic life it feels more like a second, but these past weeks travelling with her and the other friends he made felt like centuries. She, so humble and kind, carried the world on her shoulders.  He feels he will never understand her fully. She is human. Where he has already lived 350 years, she will get a 100 if she's lucky. With their way of life, it will probably be less. A human's body dies around them every second of every day after they're done growing.  She was 27 when they embarked on their journey to safe Faerun, a young adult in human years. When he was 27 he was just latching off the helping hands of his parents. She told him she had been living on her own since she was 18.   Now she's 32 and has been living with him since the Absolute was put down. He can tell she's slowly ageing. She is forming some smile lines and little crows feet at the corners of her eyes. Halsin hadn't really thought about elderly people as his kind doesn't visibly age much after a certain point, but then he was confronted with Shadowheart's mother who looked so frail. It suddenly made him realize that she will someday look like that as well.  Even so, there's this thing that is only found in those that are human. The phenomenon of the Impenetrable Human Spirit. A death grip on life, refusal to let go in the direst of times. When all the odds are stacked against you but you refuse to let them define you. Which sounds strange until you meet a few humans in time of war. After he realized that, he understood why so many Flaming Fists are human.  He hopes he'll never have to witness it again but to see someone so fiercely cling onto life while any other would have already perished in the same circumstances is truly a sight. Humans are a force to be reckoned with. Even with their short lifespans, they try to put something worthwhile on this plane. They want to feel accomplished.  'Halsin, dinner's ready,' her angelic voice calls from inside and Halsin snaps out of his trance. 'Did you want to eat outside?' He looks over his shoulder through the open backdoor of their cosy little cottage, straight into the kitchen where she is plating up dinner. She's a wonderful cook, an amazing partner, and a great artist. His days are spent trying to find the best way to worship her being in hopes it'll buy her another year.  'That'd be lovely. Thank you.’ She walks out with two plates and a smile on her face. He takes his plate from her as she sits down on the grass next to him.  'You were so far away all day,' she notes with her smile still on her lips, 'where did your mind go?'  'My heart, you would not want to know.'  'Don't worry me, love. You can tell me.' Halsin takes a second to compose himself, playing with his food for a second. She always tells him everything, what reason does he have to keep his worries to himself? She'll understand. She always does.  'I was pondering your mortality.'  'How so?'  'Well, I have nothing but time, but that is not the same for you. I have lived over three centuries. That's three, maybe four, human lifetimes. You are merely a tenth of my age and yet you feel like an equal.' He looks over to her, a somber smile now plays on her lips.  'That's not all, is it?'  'It is not.'  'Are you worried you will be alone after I pass? That you won't have enough time to know me?'  'Something like that, yes.'  'Something like that?' 

Read the remainder on AO3

[rubberduckyrye]

Rye's Ramble Analysis/Theory On: Kirumi Toujou

Okay so this is gonna be VERY haphazard and nothing like what I do over at @unweavinglies so bear with me, but after I was reminded that Salmon Mode and Kirumi's LSE excisted, I looked into those and like. Holy shit why were none of these character details in canon--or even in her FTEs?

These details change Kirumi's characterization so DRASTICALLY.

Analysis Exhibit #1: Self hatred/Self Deprecation--AKA there's TRAUMA in this Bish

Kirumi is really hard on herself when she makes the most. Nothing burger mistakes. She even suggests that Shuichi could berate her in any way he saw fit because of how "bad" she thought the mistake was--and even implies that she deserves it.

This is not something someone who has a stable self image thinks.

People who have a stable, positive self image are more likely to go "Oh! Whoops, anyway--" over berating themselves for not knowing someone prefers green tea over black tea.

Her whole LSE is about how Kirumi feels like her romantic love for her master would be a bad influence on him--that she needs to leave because her feelings are bad and wrong and--

She doesn't feel like she deserves her feelings to be validated.

People don't just come to the conclusion that their feelings are invalid all on their own--often more than not, this is a huge red flag for trauma--neglect and abuse coming to mind. Kirumi was definitely put in a situation where she believed that her feelings weren't just hindrances--but bad influences, that her feelings weren't valid at all. Combined with the above point, it's pretty clear that Kirumi may have even been yelled at for making mistakes as a child. There was definitely verbal abuse from how willing she was to let Shuichi have at her for her mistake, and her feelings being things she associates with negativity or being invalid suggests that she was often scolded for having feelings at all.

I think her maturity is a mask for her insecurities and potential trauma, and her hard-working nature is the result of thinking she needs to make herself useful to others by any means necessary in order to feel worthy of praise--maybe even worthy of living.

Kirumi even protests to the idea of Shuichi (her master) seeing her as an equal--a sign of dehumanizing herself.

With all that being said--

Her protest is never completed, but considering how Kirumi views herself, it's VERY likely that she would feel like if she doesn't clean the place up, then she isn't worthy. I think that this line can be interpreted in a variety of ways, but I see it as her trying to say "When you clean, I become useless."

And like.

Her whole LSE is her beating herself up about how she doesn't know how to prepare konjac.

All of these signs point to some kind of verbal abuse or severe neglect--more likely the former over the latter. I'm not exactly sure who abused/neglected her, but the signs are very much There.

It's possible her adamant dislike of being called mom or being referred to as "motherly" stems from this very-likely abuse, but that's more speculation and it's as equally as likely that she just simply finds it degrading. Either way.

Analysis Exhibit #2: People Pleasing (Struggling to Say No)

Kirumi has a very distinct inability to say no to most "reasonable" requests. I specify "requests" because it ties into the points above and how Kirumi sees herself.

Here, she is blatantly stating that if Shuichi is requesting her to watch this documentary then she will. Despite her very clear dislike of bugs, if she is told that it is a request, then she will complete that request, much to her distaste or discomfort.

The fact that Kirumi declines the offer if it isn't a request shows that despite her nature to please, she really dislikes bugs. She wouldn't be polite and watch the film with Shuichi due to how much she hates them.

This is also shown here as well:

She does, of course, have boundaries she will not cross, as shown here:

But she outright states that "Maids have the right to refuse requests."

Except she only goes by this motto when the request is extreme in nature, like if she feels that she is being objectified or sexualized... or told to take a hecking break.

She even says this:

Suggesting that, rather than just flatly telling Shuichi "No, I'm NOT burning this place tot he ground, are you out of your mind?" She asks him to "retract his statement." She asks him to hold the power over her, telling him that she would be willing to burn an entire building for him simply if he had a good enough reason for his "request" but also telling him that he has to be in control here. He has to retract his statement, she cannot simply refuse.

Analysis Exhibit #3: A "Go Don't Stop" Kind of Girl

Kirumi does take breaks, but she struggles with resting quite a lot.

Firstly:

Kirumi's likes and dislikes line up with her chosen profession--being a maid. She likes cleaning, but hates resting. With everything else above, I'm personally convinced that Kirumi more so likes to feel "useful" and dislikes to feel "useless." So if she works, she is considered "useful" to those around her.

Even when in a kidnapping situation, she is thinking of the others care and comfort:

While I'm sure Kirumi has escape on her mind, she is also trying to make accommodations for everyone else at the same time. Serving everyone else is just as important to her as escaping with her own life--something I'll further address in a moment, but for now:

This girl literally comprehend when someone just wants to hang out with her and talk to her as a person. Everything is about her being a maid, and she makes it pretty clear that her status as a maid comes before all else.

Now, about her life...

Analysis Exhibit #4: A Maid's Selfless Devotion (Verses the Trolley Problem)

Kirumi chose to die with everyone else whent he time limit was running out.

Despite there being no strings attached, despite there being a young man offering up his life for the others to take, everyone--herself included--refuses the offer. Why? Because in that moment, she is serving everyone in that group, to her detriment.

While the "We'd rather all die here than kill someone" sentiment is unspoken, there is proof that Kirumi is going with whatever the group as a whole wants:

Implying that, had everyone chosen to die at the time limit, she would have done so as well. It's more likely that she and everyone else would die fighting rather than sit back and let their deaths happen, but her life coming to an end was a very real possibility that she, as a very intelligent and logical person, weighed against everything and decided that saving herself via murder was not worth her own life.

This, of course, changes in chapter 2:

Because Kirumi is led to believe that her life, her service, is the only thing keeping a whole country safe.

Whereas before Kirumi's loyalty to the group was so solid that she didn't even fall to the temptation of murdering someone to escape, when she is presented with what is essentially the penultimate Trolley Problem, she goes and chooses the path that has the fewest casualties. Her choice between the V3 cast VS the entire nation of Japan is a very logical choice, almost a no-brainer. She even convinced herself that Ryoma was offering up his life to her after she confessed to him that she had too many reasons to escape from that hell of a school. He turned his back on her--and logically, he would never have done that if he had any self preservation left in him. That is her logic, her reasoning, her excuse to make her crime less egregious to herself and the others--but she had too much on her shoulders. She did what she thought needed to be done, and that was that.

Final Notes:

I'm not gonna lie, I came into this not expecting a whole lot.

From what I remember when I did my initial research on Kirumi, I thought that she had very little character to her. She was a Maid and that Was It. And it's sort of true--in canon and even in her FTEs, she's portrayed as nothing but a maid.

But her LSE and her Salmon Mode paint a slightly different picture of her--one of a lonely, neglected, abused girl who thinks extremely little of herself if she's not being useful. Someone who was taught that her feelings were rotten things and invalid, things that would only hinder other people and their potential. She works and works and works just to prove to herself that she's worth it. That she's as useful to as many people as she physically can be. She struggles with casual conversation, probably because she can't imagine anyone would want to talk to Kirumi Toujou, the person, and instead needs Kirumi Toujou, the Ultimate Maid for her services.

I think that this information being in extra game modes and buried under canon (plus a more accessible bonus mode) that did absolutely nothing for her character, I think Kirumi gets a bad reputation as a character who's got nothing else to her. Like I don't blame people who missed this information and/or thought nothing of it--in isolation, it's hard to pick up on/easily overlooked in favor of the characterization she got in the main canon story and even her FTEs.

I used to think that Kirumi wasn't much of a character--but now, I realized that's very, very wrong. She's more than just a maid! But you have to dig around and put the pieces together to actually see what's behind that perfect mask of hers.

[kaithonks]

So I’ve had some Thoughts about Jason Todd’s Robin

I guess you could say I’m still a little peeved about Robin lives, but it made me remember a story from a Class I took. I had the pleasure of getting to take a Comics and Graphic Narrative Class for my degree. The professor had a mind set to the class, in that he was not trying to show why comics are an art form, but how. Which meant we didn’t read Maus or Watchman, but we did read Heroes in Crisis. I do have thoughts about that, but that’s for another time. Any way, in class when we talk about Heroes in Crisis, Jason got briefly mentioned, with that someone mentioned his vote. And someone mention it was a landslide vote. I, of course, corrected that it was a very narrow margin of only 72 with some rumors of tampering. Which is about where I stopped myself, because it was getting too far from the original discussion. So I tried to circle the conversation back around, explain that,

“Yeah, I get a little carried away when Jason Todd comes up.”

The guy sitting next to me decided this was the time to say,

“No one cared about Jason Todd until he was the Red Hood.”

I realized now this was in jest, but my gut reaction was to tell him (a little louder than I meant) to “eat shit.”

I do regret saying that despite the laughs I got, and I did apologize to the class, though they told it was ok because “I was standing on business.” (The guy I told to 'eat shit' didn’t speak to me again till a like a month later, though)

So what’s my point with this funny little story? Well, I know I am coming from a biased perspective, but I still believe that there is some strong disregard for Jason’s Robin run, even among his fans.

He was only around for about 5 years, first appearing in 1983 and then ending with his death in 1988. Which is very short compared to Dick’s 40 plus year run as Robin, so really he wasn’t given time to be fleshed out in the same way. Some of Jason’s complaints at the time could have just been solved with time and not being written by someone who hated him, but that’s a recurring problem, it seems. Anyway, his death is a pretty pivotal moment in not only Batman's history but in comic history, so that can make his short run seem less important than how it ended. And what also doesn’t help is the almost instant back tracking on what Jason’s Robin run was really like.

So putting the Robins into boxes of happy, angry, smart, and girl is really regressive (Yes I'm looking at you Heroes in Crisis) as they are all their own characters beyond this very simple traits. They even overlap in places. And I’m saying this because I don’t think any one Robin was ‘the angry one.’ I think most of them as hurt kids who were using the identity of Robin to bring some light and levity, whether it being to themselves or to Batman. Or in a meta sense, that Robin is there for younger readers to relate to and bring a lighter tone to the story. And well in the 80s where Jason’s ran started comics were starting towards the darker gritty tone. I recommend people read “The Lives and Death of Robin: An Oral History of A DEATH IN THE FAMILY” By Joe Grunenwald to see a lot of the attitudes not only towards Jason, but Batman at the time. Jason came at a time when things were changing and well there wasn’t a desire on the editorial part to make Jason’s Robin work with what they want, because there was in incompatibility of what Robin was with the tone they wanted. And for all they claim that people hated Jason’s Robin, again the vote margin was very slim. And the published letters to the editor after, showed that kids of the time still claimed Jason as their Robin and were upset by his death. Beyond that, the Reddit thread r/comicbook had someone ask people about what they called for with Jason’s vote. There is quite a handful of people who admitted they didn’t think it would happen, so that's why they voted for his death. And of course there is a pretty vocal group saying they thought he was annoying, but in that they were also people who already loved Dick Grayson. He was their Robin. But as stated earlier, there are still those where Jason was their Robin, which is also in that thread.

Bringing it back, people definitely still cared about Jason when he was Robin. And even so many years later, I cared about Jason’s Robin. Jason’s post crisis Robin story is probably even more relatable today, with the growing of people barely able to scrape by.

Now many people point to The Diplomat's Son as a story where Jason’s character was whiny, and showed that “he’d eventually betray Batman”. But Jason through that story is trying to defend a woman who was sexually assaulted and was upset the man was going to get away. It’s always this I think of when people complain to me about Robin’s run. It also reminds me of in Under the Red Hood when Jason kills Captain Nazi. In my mind, it’s hard to frame these things as bad. Extreme? Yes, absolutely. But it speaks more to a character who was constantly failed, and faith in the system was broken. So the only way he saw to really help was to take it upon himself and make it permanent. Which when you consider Jason is only about 19-20 in Under the Red Hood. That’s heavy. But it’s only so heavy with the comparative of Jason’s Robin not completely having that faith broken and him having hope. If Jason’s Robin was also so extreme and angry, it makes the impact of Under the Red Hood, becomes almost nonexistence. It doesn’t mean anything if this is where Jason has always been, so neatly putting Jason as “always the angry Robin” and “always destined to betray Bruce’s morals” hurts his character.

Sometimes I feel that the people around Jason’s origins sort of stumbled into making a compelling character that wasn’t necessarily for them and don’t understand that, specially the way they talk about “my Batman”. They weren't the kids at the time of Jason’s Robin (maybe weren't really planing for young readers) and did a lot of blame shifting around Jason’s death. Which is strange to say the least, and this is where the back tracking on his run really starts. He didn't die because he just ignored Batman, but because he wanted to save his mother, who lied to him about the Joker. Still, they said after the fact, that “he didn't listen.” That isn't really what happened, it's an over simplification that's detrimental to their own story.

Now, a whole another conversation could be made about comic demographics and who Jason is for, past and present. But that’s getting a little too far from my point, that I feel to this day it's ignore that people did truly care about Jason’s Robin. People still do. Without Jason’s Robin, we wouldn’t have Tim’s Robin, or Steph’s or Damian’s. Jason is still an important character with in Batman, as Red Hood and as Robin. You can’t claim to love any later Robin run without paying respect to the fact Dick set it up, Robin, and Jason was his first successor. His death does overshadow a lot, even if it wasn’t permanent. And you can’t say you like the Red Hood without respect Jason’s time as Robin and how he’s changed. So Yeah. Jason Todd, Robin, is influential and shouldn’t be so easily dismissed.

[bkgsbratt]

Sweet Like Candy

Warnings: cursing, light smut, probably mischaracterization (If I’m missing any warnings please tell me!🫶)

Background: Bakugo hated sweet things, he thought they were a gateway to give people diabetes. So it wasn’t weird for his class to see him not even eat more than half a slice of his own birthday cake. It’s not like he hated sugar, he just didn’t like the gross aftertaste in his mouth, the way his hands get all sticky depending on what he’s eating (fuckin neat freak), the aching in his stomach that could come if he ate too much, what idiot would put themselves through that much torture just for 5 seconds of deliciousness? You. You would. So when Class 1-A decided to visit a sweet shop to celebrate a big rescue, best believe he grumbled about the suggestion until he arrived and saw- you.

After their latest mission, Class 1-A decided to celebrate, and someone suggested a sweets shop. Bakugo’s reaction was immediate and definitely wasn’t sweet.

“A damn candy store?” he grumbled, arms crossed, glaring at everyone like they’d betrayed him. “We just kicked ass, and you wanna celebrate with a sugar high?”

“Oh, come on, Bakugo!” Mina insisted, practically dragging him along despite his protests. “It’ll be fun! This place has everything—chocolates, pastries, even dark chocolate. You might like something!”

With a scowl, he stepped into The Sugar Nest. Pastel pinks and blues covered the walls, fairy lights twinkling around the room. The warm scent of baked goods filled the air, and Bakugo looked like he’d just entered his worst nightmare.

And then he noticed you. You were behind the counter, handing a cupcake to a kid who immediately took a big bite, grinning as frosting smudged his nose. When you looked up at the group, you greeted everyone with a bright smile. Class 1-A stampeded toward the displays, but Bakugo kept his distance, arms crossed, shooting death glares at the cakes and cookies.

You noticed his sour expression and couldn’t help but tease. “Not a fan of sweets?”

Bakugo scoffed. “Hell no. I don’t eat sugar-coated crap,” he muttered, practically daring you to argue.

You didn’t back down. Instead, you leaned on the counter, smirking. “Maybe you’ve just never had the right kind.” You reached into the display and picked out a small square of dark chocolate with sea salt. “Here. Dark chocolate—no sticky fingers, no sugar overload. Just the good stuff.”

He looked at you like you’d just handed him a grenade. But he took the chocolate, biting into it like he wanted to hate it. Only he didn’t. The bitterness and salt were perfectly balanced, with no sugary aftertaste.

“It’s… fine,” he muttered, chewing slowly.

“See?” you teased. “Not all sweets are just sugar bombs.”

From that day on, Bakugo told himself he was only at the shop to “keep the idiots in check.” But every time Class 1-A ended up at The Sugar Nest, he somehow found himself in front of the counter, accepting whatever dark chocolate creation you’d saved for him. Then, one day, he came in alone. You noticed him walking in, arms crossed, pretending it was a coincidence.

“Back again, huh?” you greeted him, a small grin on your face.

He shrugged, attempting his usual scowl. “Nothing better to do,” he muttered.

You handed him a dark chocolate truffle dusted with smoky sea salt. He took a bite, his eyes narrowing slightly as he savored the intense, smoky flavor.

“So, do you really hate sweets, or do you just hate everything on principle?” you teased, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Most sweets suck,” he replied immediately, then shrugged. “Not all of ‘em.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Guess that’s as close to a compliment as I’ll get.”

He rolled his eyes, but you saw a flicker of a smile, which felt like a victory.

In the weeks that followed, Bakugo kept showing up, sometimes with his classmates, sometimes on his own. Each time, he’d lean on the counter, muttering about whatever new treat you handed him. You fell into a routine, chatting about anything and everything, and he started bringing things for you, too—a rare spice he thought you’d like, an herb he’d grown, even a small cactus he’d claimed was “just in the way.” He’d hand them over with a gruff “figure you’d know what to do with this,” and each time, your face lit up, and he seemed secretly pleased.

One afternoon, he stayed after the shop had closed, leaning on the counter as you finished cleaning up.

“What?” you asked, noticing his intense gaze.

He shrugged. “Didn’t know you’d be workin’ this late.”

“Well, I own the place. Sometimes, I’m here all night,” you replied, glancing at him. “Why? You sticking around for something?”

He paused, his usual glare softening. “Maybe,” he muttered, looking away, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Gathering your courage, you handed him a last treat—a dark chocolate infused with chili. As he bit into it, his eyes widened, the smoky heat mingling with the bitter chocolate. “Damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t think I’d like this.”

“Oh?” you teased, stepping closer. “So you don’t hate all sweets after all?”

He looked at you, his cheeks tinged with pink. His hand brushed against yours almost unconsciously. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “you’re the only sweet thing I’ll ever want to taste,” his voice dropping as his gaze fixed on you.

Your heart skipped as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was unexpectedly soft, his rough exterior melting as his hand found your waist. You could taste the chili chocolate on his lips, and you smiled, feeling his grip tighten.

When he pulled back, he smirked, his eyes glinting. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though the way he lingered, his hand still holding yours, told you everything you needed to know.

You smiled, whispering, “Guess you don’t hate all sweets after all.”

[icarusredwings]

Prolouge to "Dog Tags" :)

I like to think- At least in my Finding home au- That Worst wolverine IS orgins Logan minus a few changes so he literally had to fight his Wade, which he feels really bad about but man they made him do all sorts of stuff that Wade would never do. Wtf you mean his Wade has kids in cages? This Wade would never. And it only hurts him the MORE he learns about wade, that he was under someone elses control to kill his parents and how Francis threatened to sew his mouth shut.

Theres so many similarities yet.. he's different. But at the same time he's not? And hes so greatful. He's still got the quips and the skills, sure his face is a little different but yeah thats definitely Wade.

So he's really not shocked to know he was a soldier, but when Wade first brings it up, Logan frowns, his eyes get a little wide as if they just entered a touchy subject.

"And.. you left?" You can actively see him internally begging."Please say you left. Please say you left. Please say you left" so when Wade, whos doing something simple like making mac and cheese turns with a smirk like "Sure- if you think getting handed the pink slip and being told you're never allowed to work for the canadian government ever again because I couldn't follow orders is 'leaving' then yeah. I left."

And a large relief falls over him because one of the main reasons stryker liked wade was because he was "the perfect soilder except for his mouth" "does what he's told" etc. So to hear that this wade didn't get picked up because he didnt do what he was told is a massive relief.

".. you got your tags?"

"Well.. yeah. Somewhere around here. Ness might have'm still.... why do you ask?" And it makes wade really nervous because no duh - hundreds of people have betrayed him. He wouldn't honestly be too shocked if Logan suddenly decided he wanted him dead for whatever reason.

Logan just smiles and tries to make a joke "Ill show you mine if you show me yours"

This eases Wade a bit so he laughs and is like yeah sure. Goes in there, digs around for a bit, brings back out the tags, his patch nametag, and a picture of his platoon but most of them are either scribbled out or ripped off.

"Turns out- when you leave special ops- You become a person of intrest to your ex friends" though the way he says this makes Logan want to hug him because OUCH- Yeaahh he felt that way too much.

So, he assumes that wades killed them for trying to kill him instead, runs his thumb over the emboardered lettering of the name tag and of the imprinted metal with a soft smile.

Now wades not dumb. This was rememberance.

"...Didn't you mention you had a wade in your universe? Crazy fucker? No cancer? Lucky bastard-" he grumbles, a little jealous, assuming that Logan had something with that wade too. Part of him is estatic because of the thought. Like yay! But the other part is "I would so ☠️ myself if another me flirted with my man"

"Yeah.. poor guy had his mouth completely removed."

"Well shit. Merc WITHOUT a mouth isnt a very good name now is it- Wait second. Lines all over him? Look like a weird egg? Warehouse fight?"

Logan looks at him like 'how the fuck did you know that?'

"Yeah! Ugh poor guy. Put him out of his misery like old yeller. Put a whole load into his head. Was that you- or? A different wolvie?"

Logan blinks, trying to process the fact that Wade just cassually admits to ☠️ing himself in another timeline, but also He didn't remember that which implies that this happened not only in his old universe but other universes too.

"No.. that wasnt me."

It makes him upset to think about anyone wanting to take away Wades right to speak. He understood that being yapped at, at 6 am wasn't the funnest thing in the world but he would never in a million years want to take away his ability to say such beautiful things. The way he spoke so passionatly about things, how smart and caring he was. Even when he said stupid shit like "Thats what she said" after the most random sentence.

"Hey wade? Were out of milk"

"Thats what she said."

"Huh??"

His grip tightens on the tags as he sighs heavily, digging out how own and hands them to wade, who by now has finished cooking the mac and cheese, successfully not burning down the apartment.

Wade, of course, becomes excited giggling and going "Oooooh! Special! Old as hell too- damn wolvie whens the last time you washed these? All scratched up and- they stink!"

Logan smiles. "You're more then welcome to clean'em."

But this is said to be bad luck. To clean someone elses tags implies that theyre dead because they cant do it themsleves. Wade immediately shakes his head, trying to hand them back.

"No! I-.. you clean them."

Logan dosn't even look up, still fiddling with wades, looking at the numbers and such. "Eh. Keep'em."

"You.. why do you want me to keep your tags? Theyre yours. You can't just give me your tags thats-"

"Wade... Keep'em. Im not that man anymore. And I never want to be."

This seems like a new light for wade as he realizes that he too isn't the same man who wore the ones in those rough hands. He looks at Logans tags again, the cogs in his mind turning only to be interrupted by a small..

"..Can I keep these?"

"What?"

"Your tags... can.. I keep them?"

Immediately, a lightbulb flashes in wades head.

"You wanna swap tags with me!? Oh my god really!?"

Logan shrugs, oblivious to what this means. "I mean.. I dont want mine. And if you dont want yours.."

"Yes!! I'll keep them safe I swear!"

He then runs off, leaving the stove on to go tell Al, giggling as he puts them on.

Blinking, Logan sighs heavily, shaking his head with a smile as he turns off the oven, having a bad feeling that he just did something far different from what he was trying too.

Turns out... that's how they got engaged..

Everyone forgets that Wade was a soldier. A fucking good one. The reason he is so good at being Deadpool is because of that. Yes, he doesn't have to worry about dying, but he strategically takes hits to stun the enemies.

I think Logan would love to see Wade planning out a mission for the first time.

He expects Wade to just go in guns blazing, but he doesn't. Wade pulls out a blueprint of the building, marks areas he knows have security, shows Logan exactly where the target is and how to shut down the villains evil machine of the week. He tells him exactly where he needs to go to pull it off and doesn't make any jokes the entire time.

Logan is alittle surprised, but he can deal with that after the mission.

And after the mission- that goes smoother than any X-Men mission he'd ever done- he can't help but ask Wade why he did all of the prep and how he knew so much about where they were going.

And Wade just shrugs and says "that's how we did it in the military, why? Not how fancy Cyclops did it?" and now he's even more confused because- huh? Wade was in the military??

And so that night Logan just asks him loads of questions, they share a few war stories, and Wade tells him all about how he scouted the warehouse out for a few days and planned the mission.