#she doesn't know why there's the attention on her eye

[princesssmars]

so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.

[httpswritings]

Lost On You

alexia putellas x realmadrid!reader and misa rodriguez x realmadrid!reader (as friends)

This story contains unrealistic plots (you'll know which ones I'm referring to as you read throughout the story) and it doesn't have a closed happy ending for ale/reader but it does have a cute ending for misa and reader's friendship.

It’s still a blur how it all happened, but somehow, you caught the attention of a Real Madrid scout. The memory feels hazy, like a dream you can’t quite piece together.

Almost three years ago, you walked Misa, your lifelong friend, to one of her training sessions. You were always early—your fear of being late to anything saw to that—and that day was no exception. With time to kill, Misa insisted you join her for a bit until her session started. She grabbed a ball and nudged you to take a few shots, claiming it would help her warm up.

“This isn’t fair. You know I’m terrible at this, Mimi,” you protested, shaking your head.

“So what? You’re here with me. We’ve got, like, forty-five minutes to kill,” she replied, grinning.

“No, you have forty-five minutes until training. This isn’t exactly my thing,” you shot back, though your resolve was already crumbling.

You could never say no to her, especially when she looked at you with those dark brown eyes. Misa was three years older than you, but she’d always been your rock. She was your protector—through school, through high school, through everything. No one dared mess with you because they knew Misa and her friends would have your back.

There were only two times anyone tried to tease you, both involving girls who thought they were bold enough. Both times, it took just one of your tears for Misa to lose her temper. She got expelled twice—once for each girl—and she never once regretted it. That’s just who she was: fiercely loyal, always protective, and endlessly caring, like the big sister you never had.

So, of course, you gave in. You took the ball from her hands, laughing as she bounced on her toes with excitement. Her Canarian accent always thickened when she got worked up, and you couldn’t help but think it sounded even more beautiful than usual.

In the background, unbeknownst to you, a Real Madrid agent had been watching.

You’d never played football before. Growing up, you were too afraid of being judged, of people labeling you as something you weren’t. The fear of being seen as "too masculine" or "lesbian" kept you on the sidelines, even though you secretly loved the sport. You only ever allowed yourself to enjoy it from a distance, never daring to join in, even during playground games. And even if you had wanted to, you knew your parents couldn’t afford to pay for football lessons.

It was Misa’s passion for the game, along with your own journey towards the acceptance of your lesbianism, that slowly helped you feel more comfortable with yourself. But by then, it was too late to learn—you had no idea how to play.

That’s why, when you took the ball and Misa urged you to take a few shots, you missed all three attempts. Both of you burst into laughter, treating it as nothing more than a silly game to pass the time. But just as you were about to leave, a woman approached you.

She introduced herself as Sara and began asking questions—your name, where you played, what position you were in. At first, you and Misa thought it was a joke. After all, Sara had just witnessed your disastrous technique. You played along, teasingly telling her you were Misa’s biggest rival, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it.

But then Sara started asking more specific questions, and it dawned on you that she was serious. You quickly apologized for joking and admitted the truth: you’d never played football before.

To your surprise, Sara didn’t seem fazed. She insisted on scheduling an appointment to see more of you. You had no idea why she was so interested, but Misa’s piercing stare made it clear that refusing wasn’t an option. Denying the request would’ve driven her crazy, so for the sake of your friend, you reluctantly agreed.

At the appointment, Sara closely analyzed your movements. You felt completely out of place, convinced this had to be some kind of elaborate joke you weren’t in on. You struggled to keep up—missing the ball, running out of breath quickly, and looking utterly lost most of the time. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

A few days later, Sara asked you to come back. That’s when she dropped the bombshell: she wanted to sign you to Real Madrid. She made it clear that you’d be starting from scratch, and it would take years of hard work to even dream of making it to the first team. But she believed in you—enough to set an ambitious goal: she wanted you to debut by the age of twenty-two. Surprisingly, you managed to do it a year earlier.

Your playing time was limited, especially in high-stakes matches. Sara was cautious about putting you under too much pressure too soon. Real Madrid’s women’s team wasn’t a powerhouse, and she wanted to shield you from the weight of failure. That’s why you didn’t play in the Copa de la Reina final, where Real Madrid came agonizingly close to winning their first title, only to lose to Atletico de Madrid. You also sat out the matches against FC Barcelona, and honestly, you were grateful for it. You watched Barça evolve, seeing the names of players who came and went: Lieke Martens, Jenni Hermoso, Asisat Oshoala, Aitana, Patri, Graham, Pinà… and Alexia.

Since entering the world of women’s football, you’d studied Alexia closely. She was the epitome of perfection—a relentless winner with an insatiable hunger for success. Her passion for the game was unmatched, and it drove everything she did.

To your astonishment, you were called up for a few friendly matches ahead of the World Cup. It was your chance to prove how far you’d come. Your improved physique and growing understanding of the game shone through, and after a standout performance, you earned your spot on the World Cup roster.

Your inclusion raised eyebrows. You’d only played two matches with the National team and had limited experience with Real Madrid’s first team, mostly featuring in their youth categories. But you were determined to make the most of the opportunity.

During the first training session, you stuck to Misa’s side like glue. You’d already met Jenni and Laia during the friendly matches, and they’d been incredibly supportive. But Alexia was a different story. She arrived late, still recovering from a long-term injury, but she was ready for the World Cup.

The first time you saw her, it felt like witnessing a celestial being. Her bright pink hair framed her face, and her eyes seemed to light up the room. She was warm and approachable as she introduced herself.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, glancing at her teammates with a smile.

Your cheeks burned red. Misa, standing beside you, bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. She knew all about your crush on Alexia, and she wasn’t about to let you live it down.

Alexia was an absolute sweetheart, always going out of her way to help you. She became so invested in you that she couldn’t help the feelings that began to grow. The tournament ended with your victory over England, and you scored the most crucial goal of the match. Over time, you and Alexia grew so close that the thought of returning to your separate lives filled you both with anxiety. Fortunately, you had one last chance to spend time together—the trip to Ibiza—and you made the most of every moment.

Afterward, you returned to your routine: striving to improve at Real Madrid B, focusing on your studies, and catching glimpses of Alexia whenever your paths crossed during national team camps.

You watched FC Barcelona thrive, and a pang of envy crept in, wishing you could one day celebrate such victories with your own team.

As time passed, you turned twenty-two, sitting on the bench as your team suffered yet another defeat in El Clásico. What hurt the most was seeing Misa’s disappointment. Your body ached to step onto the pitch, but your mind held you back..

It wasn’t until Spain’s Supercopa final, with your team trailing by three goals and forty-five minutes still on the clock, that something inside you snapped. You didn’t know what came over you, but you stood up, driven by an unshakable determination. You practically begged your coach to let you on the pitch, to at least try to lessen the blow, even if it meant losing by just one goal.

Alexia watched as you prepared to step in, and her heart ached. She thrived on Real Madrid’s defeats, but the hatred she held for the team paled in comparison to the love she felt for you. Her mind was set on scoring, even if it was just once, but her heart wanted to pull you off the field. She wanted to humiliate Real Madrid, not you. To her, you were different—you always had been.

When you were subbed in, you delivered a stunning performance, scoring and assisting to help your team clinch their first title. It was a wild, unforgettable display, fueled by your desire to see Misa succeed. It was an unusual philosophy, but Misa was everything to you in football. Even as you wore the Real Madrid badge on your chest, right on top of the area of your heart, where Alexia belonged, Misa was the one who dominated your thoughts. You had stood by her side through every defeat, every heartbreak, every moment when the weight of the game seemed too heavy to bear. Each loss had carved a little piece out of you, not because you were the one on the field, but because you felt her pain as if it were your own. She was more than just your best friend—she was your closest friend.

But this time was different. This time, you weren’t just watching her fight—you were watching her soar. The cup gleamed in her hands, a symbol of everything she had worked for, everything she had sacrificed. The smile on her face wasn’t just one of victory; it was one of triumph over every doubt, every setback, every moment when the world had tried to tell her she wasn’t enough. And as you stood there, watching her bask in the glory of her hard-earned success, you felt a surge of pride so overwhelming it brought tears to your eyes.

This was everything. This was the moment you had been waiting for, not for yourself, but for her. You had seen the sleepless nights, the endless training sessions, the quiet moments when she questioned if it was all worth it. And now, as she lifted the cup high, her laughter ringing out like music, you knew it was. Every drop of sweat, every tear, every ounce of pain had led her here, to this pinnacle of joy.

You caught sight of Alexia’s sad expression, and it weighed heavily on you. You moved closer, but she stopped you, forcing a small, fake smile and telling you to celebrate your victory and enjoy the moment.

In that moment, as she lost and you won, she felt like she had lost you too. She had lost herself in you, and now, in defeat, she was determined to find herself again. But rediscovering herself meant letting you go. She had to lose you to find who she was.

[eggfriedricedwasian]

TimKon clone baby au but Tim heals after creating the baby.

Tim disappears after achieving Bruce back from the time stream, well he sent the information on how to get Bruce back from the tim stream rather.

The fight with Ra's, the LOA, all that happens, except, once he's fixed up, he leaves. Drops off the radar.

He's still severely unstable. Almost as if he's catatonic.

But he makes it to the lab, freeing the growing baby from the green liquid, grabbing the thing no, girl, this baby, his baby, was a girl.

He has a daughter.

Daughters are the most precious thing the world can offer.

He now has the most precious thing in the world. The most precious little girl he's ever looked at.

Hell hath no fury like a mother without a child.

So Tim drops off the radar. He goes somewhere secluded, cheap, and away from crime and heroism.

He raises his daughter, he fixes himself, he learns, she learns, he grows, and she grows up.

While he's being the best most doting dad in the world to his daughter, little Mary-Jane Drake-Wayne(-Kent), the Bats, with the newly returned Bruce, look for Tim.

Kon and Bart, who returned from the dead, also look for Tim.

Kon, of course, was the one who finds Tim first. Tim and a baby. An 8 month old baby.

This baby has fair skin, wavy bed headed locks, and bright blue eyes. This baby was on her stomach with her head up, hair standing up all over the place, looking at Kon, while snuggled in the crook of Tim's arm.

Tim was sleeping, legs curled up on his side with his arm out underneath the baby girl and his hand resting on her back.

"Ah"

The sound of the baby's voice snaps Kon's attention to her. She's so small and yet so big. Since when did Tim have a kid? And with who?

Tim stirs awake slowly and Kon holds his breath.

"Mmm.. MJ, what are you doing up so early, sweetie?"

Tim turns on his back, putting the baby called MJ(who is in the most adorable Superboy onsie ever) on his stomach.

Mj doesn't turn her head to him, eyes still transfixed on Kon's figure.

Tim turns to look over and sits up, pulling MJ closer to him chest, hugging her tight, and pulls a knife out from under the bed, backing up towards the wall.

"Hey, hey, it's just me, Tim."

"N-No! I don't know who you are, but you aren't Kon!"

It pains Kon to hear that.

"It is me."

Tim shakes his head.

"If it really was you, you'd tell me something only him and I know.

"One time, when we were on Young Justice, you almost gave away your secret identity to me before Batman said you could, but you did it anyways."

Tim seemed to calm at that. He slowly puts the knife down, and back where it was.

"H-how?"

"Tim travel stuff. Was with the Legion of Heroes in the future recovering for a bit before they sent me back."

That would explain it.

Tim slowly scooted off the bed, standing, but not letting go of his baby. God his baby.

They stand in silence for a while longer, looking between each other, and Kon between Tim and MJ.

"Who's the mother?"

He asks. He's not sure why he did. Why would he care?

Tim seems taken aback by the question. But he avoids it, smoothly, as if he was preparing for this scenario, in this way or another, to happen.

"You can join us for breakfast."

Kon agrees.

The kitchen is small.

It has a counter island protruding from the wall acting as both a counter space island and a table. There were two chairs at it, plus a high chair.

"Sit here, baby."

Kon hears Tim whisper to MJ as he sets her down in the high chair.

She fusses very little as she gets buckled in. She settles just as fast when Tim gives her a toy. It makes noises as she swings it around, smiling brightly.

She has Tim's smile. Kon thinks distantly, looking at the way her cheeks squished and her gummy smile showed. The dimpled weren't Tim's, though.

When Kon looks at Tim, he doesn't know what to expect. Tense? Sure. Shaking? Maybe.

He wasn't expecting Tim to be smooshing bananas in a bowl with a fork, putting a baby spoon in it and putting it in front of MJ for her to eat, all with a small smile on his face.

A smile he's never seen before. It's domestic. Motherly sort of domestic. His eyes are crinkled, his smile is so full of love for the little baby laughing and making a mess of her face, chair, clothes, and bib while she ate mushed bananas.

"Tim.."

Tim's smile falls shortly down, if he wasn't watching all that closely he wouldn't have seen it.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"... Pancakes, if that's alright.."

Tim nods, turning and grabbing an apron, putting it on.

The apron said "World's Best Housewife" on it.

He grabbed a bowl, a pan, flour, eggs, oil, butter, milk, and chocolate chips and whatever else.

He made the batter, started up the heat on the gas stove, then added the batter, before plating and placing the pancakes, three on each. Syrup sat in the middle, which both of them drowned their pancakes in.

They started eating in silence next to each other. MJ's baby noises were the only thing that kept the silence even remotely tolerable.

"She's a clone..."

Tim started.

He looked at Tim shocked. Of course he was shocked. She was a clone!

"...Of us.."

Kon's heart stopped beating for a second. If the white noise generator wasn't going off somewhere in the house, he was sure he could hear Tim's heart beating really fast.

"...that I made."

Kon's world took a turn.

Tim Drake, his best friend, his Robin, someone he had confided in about his upbringing as a clone, made MJ out of both of their DNA in a lab as a clone.

"What."

He no longer felt hungry. He felt.. He didn't know what he felt. There were so many mixed emotions going through him right now.

Anger? His best friend cloned him after he told him how he hated being cloned.

Joy? He has a daughter. A daughter Tim made. Why did Tim make her?

"It was a hard time for me. I lost you, Bart, my dad, and then Bruce. I tried to clone you and Bart, and I had the bright idea of adding my DNA to the mixture when cloning you. It worked, and now she's here, and I'm here, and.. you're back."

He said it as if he didn't want Kon back.

Kon was about to speak up when Tim beat him to it.

"It's great that you're back, Kon, but I broke your trust and promise by making her. But she's my kid, so you don't have to stay, you can leave. I'm fine right where I'm at and I'm not going back, to the Bats, to the Waynes, to no one. Not even for you."

For the first time since their first meeting that morning, Tim looked at Kon. His eyes held such fierce determination, love, and compassion in them. All those felt for MJ, not for him.

What did he even say to that. What did he even do.

MJ was his kid too, right? She was a clone of Kon and him, so that makes her his child as much as Tim's, no?

Would Tim even let him be her other dad? Did he even want to be her other dad?

He did.

Lex and Clark didn't treat him like their son and he was their *technical* kid. He wanted oh so desperately to have parents that loved him, he wanted to give MJ that since he didn't get that.

She didn't deserve it. She was just a baby. A baby Tim made out of grief for him dying.

"What's her name?"

He asks instead of everything else.

".. Mary-Jane."

Tim answers after his initial shock at the question.

Tim turns back to her, seeing her finished with the bananas, now content playing with her toy while she stares at her father.

Tim takes the bowl and goes to put it and the plates in the sink, then cleans MJ up and the chair before extracting her and heading over to the diaper changing table in another room to change her diaper.

The door was still ajar so he could see Tim change her diaper and clothes and hear as she giggled while her father cooed at her and poked at her nose and belly and kissed her face.

I should be doing that too.

"Tim."

He calls when Tim walks back out.

Tim stops right outside the room's door, holding MJ, Mary-Jane, in his hip. She was now in a light blue little blouse and denim blue jean skirt with cute ruffled socks and a little bonnet.

"Can I.. I want to.."

He couldn't form his question.

"Could I be her other father?"

He blurts out instead.

They both stare at each other for what felt like the longest time of Kon's life.

"Really?"

Tim finally asks.

He nods, pushing his lips in a thin line and furrowing his brows, expecting a no for an answer.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said, okay."

Kon looked bewildered despite hearing his answer.

"I know you, Kon. I know how you felt about Clark and Lex when it came to parenting, I expected this, actually. You want to be there for her, unlike they were with you. I had time to think about it these past few months."

That actually.. made sense, but it didn't at the same time.

Tim motioned for Kon to follow as he sat down on the couch. Kon sat next to him.

"Want to hold her?"

He nodded immediately, and was given MJ before he could finish.

She was small, so very light in his arms as she stared up at him with those big blue beautiful eyes, his eyes.

"She helped me, ya know."

Kon looked at him, adjusting his hold on her so she could hold his finger.

Tim watched her intently.

"I was in a really dark place when I had her, when we first came here. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to take care of her. But I knew I couldn't with how I was. So I got better, for her. She helped me. I've been clean, I've been taking care of myself, eating 3 meals a day, cleaning the house, raising her, taking medicine, regularly working out, meditating, sleeping a full 8 hours, and napping with her."

He paused to get a breath in.

"I don't regret it, leaving, going off the radar. I've never been more healthy and more stress free, and more alive in my life."

"I'm never going back."

Kon leaves it at that.

He doesn't know much about what happened, but he doesn't care anymore. This is his family. And he isn't going to leave it.

[yncoreee]

10 STEPS TO GETTING A GIRL. Hanni x reader

February 1st, 2025

Dear Diary,

I'm literally dying of boredom in class right now. I've been secretly scrolling through TikTok under my desk (don't tell the teacher), and I stumbled upon this hilarious video of a girl trying to get her crush's attention. She said she was going to "show off her charms" to see if it would work. And, surprisingly, it did!

I watched the video like three times, and I couldn't help but think, "Why not me?" I mean, I've had a crush on y/n for ages, and I've been too scared to even talk to her. But today, I decided to take a chance.(•̀ᴗ•́)و

As luck would have it, y/n was sitting right beside me in class. I "accidentally" dropped my pen on the floor next to her, and I stood up to go pick it up. I gave her my best "innocent-like eyes" look and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. I was trying to channel my inner “soft girl" vibes.

But, um, let's just say it didn't quite go as planned.~(>_<~)

As I looked up at y/n, I expected her to, I don't know, melt into a puddle of love or something. But instead, she just gave me this blank, questioning look. Like, she had no idea what I was even doing.

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment, and I quickly apologized and stood up to return to my seat. As I sat down, I couldn't help but curse myself for making things so awkward. I mean, who tries to flirt with someone in the middle of class?

I glanced over at y/n, who was now staring intently at the teacher. I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. Was she confused? Amused? Repulsed?

Ugh, I don't know why I even tried. I'm just going to stick to my usual self from now on. No more trying to be someone I'm not.

But, as I looked at y/n again, I couldn't help but feel this tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she didn't notice my awkwardness. Maybe she'll even talk to me someday.

A girl can dream, right?( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

I'm going to bed now, diary. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day.

Goodnight!

P.S. I'm renaming this operation "10 Steps to Getting a Girl (Without Making a Total Fool of Myself)".

February 2nd, 2025

Dear Diary,

Today was the day I decided to try out my hair flip move. I practiced it in front of the mirror for hours, perfecting the technique. I mean, who doesn't love a good hair flip, right?٩(ᐛ)و

As I walked down the hallway, I spotted y/n leaning against her locker, looking adorable as usual. I took a deep breath, flipped my hair, and gave her my brightest smile.

But, of course, things didn't quite go as planned. As I flipped my hair, I lost my balance and stumbled into the locker next to y/n. I mean, it was like the universe was conspiring against me.

Y/n looked at me with this confused expression, (o_O) like she was trying to figure out what I was doing. I just laughed it off and played it cool, like I meant to do that.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, trying to sound casual.

Y/n just shrugged and said, "Not much. Just waiting for my tutor."

I nodded and stood there for a few awkward moments, trying to think of something else to say. But before I could come up with anything, y/n's tutor showed up, and they walked off together.

I watched them go, feeling a bit deflated. I guess my hair flip move needs a bit more work.

But I'm not giving up! I'll keep trying until I get it right.(>ᴗ•)

Until next time, diary...

P.S. I think I need to work on my balance.

February 4th, 2023

Dear Diary,

Today was the day I decided to do a good deed for y/n. I figured, what's the best way to get someone's attention? By being kind and thoughtful, of course!

I spent hours thinking about what I could do for y/n. Should I carry her books? Buy her lunch? Help her with her homework? The possibilities were endless!

Finally, I decided on the perfect plan. I would buy y/n's favorite lunch and surprise her with it during class. I mean, who doesn't love a good surprise?

I arrived at school early, eager to put my plan into action. I bought y/n's favorite lunch - a turkey sandwich and a bag of chips - and carefully placed it in a bag.

As I walked into class, I spotted y/n sitting at her desk, looking adorable as usual. I took a deep breath, walked over to her desk, and proudly presented her with the lunch.

"Hey, I bought you lunch!" I said, trying to sound casual.

Y/n looked up at me, surprised, and said, "Oh, thanks..."

But before she could even take the lunch from me, disaster struck. As I was handing her the bag, I tripped on my own feet and spilled the entire contents of the bag all over y/n's shirt. (」°ロ°)」

I mean, it was like the universe was conspiring against me. Again.

Y/n looked down at her shirt, now covered in turkey and chips, and let out a deep groan. "Seriously?" she said, her voice laced with frustration.

I was mortified. I immediately apologized and tried to help her clean up the mess. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! Let me help you clean that up!" I exclaimed, grabbing a handful of napkins from the desk.

But y/n stopped me with a sigh. "Don't worry about it. It's okay."

She stood up, her shirt stained and dirty, and began to walk away. I felt a pang of disappointment and embarrassment. I had really messed things up this time.

"Wait, y/n! Let me at least help you clean up!" I called out after her, but she just shook her head and kept walking.(╥_╥)

I watched her go, feeling like a total failure. Why did I always have to be so clumsy around her? Why couldn't I just be normal for once?

As I sat back down at my desk, I couldn't help but wonder if I had just blown my chances with y/n. Had I scared her off for good?

I sighed and buried my face in my hands. Why did I always have to make things so complicated?(ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

Until next time, diary...

TAGLIST 🏷️ @sixflame438 @saysirhc @trovao-penguins @drvirgus @glassypze @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @wintersgff @somedaydream @yxlis @artrizzler19 @haerinkisser @gtfoiydlyj @stareaa @sseulforgii @yjiminswallet

[idliketobeatree]

Here is one of the best friends he's made in what seems like forever; she's so open and sweet, beautiful and brilliant. It was inevitable, he thinks, that Niko Sasaki would effortlessly endear herself to Charles like a lost younger sister.

(And that is another story entirely, but not one for Edwin to tell.)

He finds it contradistinctive, Niko Sasaki becoming a new source and the easiest target of Charles' spontaneous, affectionate smiles — different than watching him stumble around Crystal. It's well-nigh surprising just how secure Edwin feels, observing their budding friendship, the phantom echo of it spreading around his chest like a slow warmth from a hearth. He harbours no jealousy or hurt at the frequency with which their more private conversations take place. He does not mind the way Niko wraps her hand around Charles' arm as they walk, not one bit, when his best friend's sole attention is focused on her excited chatter. He can thoroughly relate, after all.

As a matter of fact, Edwin suspects that the only thing he'll have to worry about is stifling an inelegant snort when they're all descending a hill in the middle of a legwork-heavy case and Charles picks Niko up for an impromptu piggyback ride.

"No no no no, put me down!", her voice carries over their heads, but Niko's shrieking protest dies in her throat just as quickly as it came to life, turning into an appreciative whistle at the view. In front of them, Crystal turns on her heel and raises her eyebrows in amusement.

"You're that desperate to be the last at home?"

"Please, we'll be there faster than you lot. Right, Niko?" Charles, ever the multitasker, uses his shrug to adjust the grip on Niko's swaying legs. "Edwin?"

He dares to look in their direction, dreading... precisely double the amount of puppy eyes sent his way. His lips twitch in a helpless smile.

"I must agree. The Charles Express is quite a commendable machine. I would not underestimate it, Crystal."

Charles barks out a laugh. Whatever expression Niko must've had on her face breaks through Crystal's composure; she, too, cracks up, a spring in her step as she turns to walk forward again.

"Can barely feel her, can't I? Lighter than my backpack," Charles says, matter-of-factly.

"It's not a race."

"It could be a race."

"I'm not going to race you down the hill in these platforms, be serious—"

"That doesn't sound like a definite no," Niko pipes in.

"Take them off, then," offers Charles.

Edwin glances up at the orange sun set against the milky autumn sky, to his left; the brightest thing on the horizon. He hears her gasps of delight at Charles' cheeky step through the trunk in their way. Something inside him has been shifting and smoothing out for quite a while. Edwin doesn't know how long it will last or what the destination will be. All he knows is that the slope hits his feet once or twice at most.

One afternoon she invites them to watch Scooby Doo together. It's the first time they've gathered as a trio, and Edwin immediately understands why this hasn't happened before when Niko unlocks the door to her room. The bed they usually end up on is narrow to say the least, why hadn't he noticed that before, but it seems too late to make a flimsy excuse and eloign himself from the picture. They were long overdue.

Charles, who looks about ready to turn into an orb of post-case tension, has no qualms about using the threshold for a shimmering quick wardrobe change. He appears right at home, comfortable, downright domestic, in socks, trousers and a polo shirt, sliding his suspenders down and trailing after Niko who heads for the coat hanger.

What Edwin doesn't expect, apart from the rather tight fit for three people - or rather two ghost boys and one living girl - is Niko giving him a knowing look over Charles' head as he unceremoniously flops down on the bed. His groan, which prompts Niko to pat him sympathetically on said head, makes Edwin snap his open mouth shut, suddenly flustered.

He waits politely, pulling down his knitted vest and admiring the decorative sequins sewn onto a flowery cushion, deliberately not looking at the long line of Charles sprawled on the neatly tucked in duvet. He half-listens to Niko as she chatters on, something about needing to show them the more modern rendition of their Mystery Inc. detectives, grabbing her laptop from the desk and sitting down in the very middle, hip-checking Charles' side. Charles sluggishly lifts himself and rolls onto his back, pushing himself up, shoulders halfway up the headboard, neck supported by a plush pillow, hands folded across his chest and long, long legs crossed at the ankles. He must have done this several times now, Edwin's lungs remind him before tightening into knots. The mattress barely dips when he gingerly sits down and settles, too. His back remains straight, and he is barely brushing her arm when she announces out of the blue, "I forgot my snacks. Give me a moment," climbing off the bed and leaving them in — on Edwin's side — suddenly charged, tense silence.

It feels different, of course it does, and Edwin feels guilty that his carefully tucked away thoughts are knocking on the doors of his consciousness when they're in Niko's room, for God's sake. Edwin tries to subtly move away from the overwhelmingly horizontal line of Charles' body. Right now, sitting cross-legged, Edwin's knees are barely touching him, and he bumps his knee against Charles' arm twice before stilling. He doesn't want to hunch down; never again. He stays put.

The sensation of Charles' bony elbow is like the flash of a sharp smile. The room fills with a low hum, something musical and... campy that Niko must have shown Charles on one of those afternoons. With his eyes closed, Edwin compartmentalises the points of sharp heat.

Much, much later, Charles jogs up to the beach where Niko and Edwin are watching the starfish. "What're you doing?", he asks curiously, just when Edwin finishes talking about their lack of a centralised brain.

He hears the shift in Charles' posture more than his opening to say something mouth, and a second of hesitation before it closes again.

He wonders if Charles has noticed their colours.

Niko sends Charles a lingering smile. Her eyes crinkle with mirth. "Luckily, love requires no logic", she says cryptically. They don't notice, crouching down as they are, but his head tilts synonymously with Niko's and Edwin's.

When he dares to peek at Niko, he finds her eyes locked with Charles', with an expression that Edwin knows she must have learned recently, but is not sure when exactly. It says something like, go on. Be brave.

He swallows and clenches his fingers around the red, red sea glass in his coat pocket.

[ladybunny44]

Good morning, Bunny. I noticed you also write for Blue Lock, so I'm here with my first Blue Lock request and it's for the Itoshi brothers. When Sae's girlfriend finds out about Rin's girlfriend, she arranges a meeting with the younger woman to discuss a plan to reconcile the brothers. Because, seriously, why can't these two brothers just sit down and talk things out?

💙 Mending the Itoshi Bond 💙

Pairing : Sae Itoshi x Fem!Reader, Rin Itoshi x Fem!OC/Reader

Genre : ☁️

Word count : ~2000

Summary : Sae Itoshi has long since accepted the distance between him and his younger brother, Rin. No matter how much he insists, it doesn’t matter,you know it does. So when you find out that Rin has a girlfriend, an idea sparks—maybe, just maybe, the two of you can work together to bring the brothers back together. With a carefully planned dinner and a little bit of manipulation, you set the stage for a long-overdue confrontation between the Itoshi siblings. Will they finally find common ground, or will this only deepen the rift between them?

TW/CW : Tension and unresolved family conflict, passive-aggressive sibling arguments,fluff and humour,happy but open-ended resolution.

NOTIFICATIONS ꩜ ₊ ⊹! : Set post-Blue Lock, when both brothers are professional players! Thank you for the request! Enjoy! 📚

『••✎••』

You had been dating Sae for quite some time now, and while your relationship with him was stable and filled with mutual understanding, there was always something lingering in the background—his fractured bond with Rin. No matter how many times you tried to bring it up, Sae would always brush it aside with a nonchalant "It doesn't matter anymore." But you knew better.

So, when you discovered that Rin had a girlfriend, an idea sparked in your mind. Maybe—just maybe—if you and Rin's girlfriend worked together, you could bridge the gap between the Itoshi brothers.

You reached out to her first, sending a simple message:

"Hey, I’m Sae’s girlfriend. I know this is sudden, but can we meet?"

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a reply.

"Sure. I wanted to talk to you too."

The two of you met at a small café in Tokyo, the atmosphere warm despite the tension hovering between you. She was a bit cautious at first, but as soon as you both started talking, you realized you had a lot in common—especially when it came to dealing with the stubbornness of the Itoshi brothers.

"They’re both idiots," she sighed, stirring her drink.

You chuckled. "Tell me about it. But I know Rin misses Sae… even if he won’t admit it."

She nodded. "Rin won’t stop talking about how much he hates him, but when he watches Sae’s matches, I can tell he still looks up to him."

You leaned forward, determination in your eyes. "Then we should do something about it."

The plan was simple. You and Rin’s girlfriend would invite both brothers to the same restaurant under different pretenses. Sae thought he was having dinner with you, and Rin believed he was just meeting his girlfriend. Neither of them knew the other would be there.

The moment they locked eyes across the table, tension filled the air. Rin’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightening, while Sae simply sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"...Tch. What is he doing here?" Rin muttered.

"I could ask you the same thing," Sae responded coolly.

You exchanged a quick glance with Rin’s girlfriend before giving them both an innocent smile. "Well, since you're both here… might as well sit down and eat, right?"

Rin’s girlfriend chimed in, "Unless you two want to be the center of attention in a public place?"

That shut them up. Begrudgingly, they both took their seats, glaring at each other.

At first, the conversation was stiff, filled with short, clipped responses and passive-aggressive remarks. But as the meal went on, things started to ease up. Sae made a passing comment about Rin’s recent match, and despite his initial reluctance, Rin couldn’t help but respond with a scoff and a smirk.

"You were watching?" Rin asked, trying to sound indifferent.

"Obviously," Sae replied. "You’re still predictable, though."

"And you’re still an arrogant bastard."

You and Rin’s girlfriend held your breath for a moment, worried things would escalate—but then Rin let out a small chuckle, and Sae’s lips twitched into something resembling a smirk.

It wasn’t a perfect reconciliation, but it was a start.

By the end of the night, Rin still acted stubborn, and Sae still held onto his pride, but something had changed. As they left, Sae gave Rin a small nod, and Rin—though hesitant—nodded back.

And that was enough.

As you and Rin’s girlfriend exchanged victorious grins, you knew one thing for sure: This was only the beginning.

[official-cvntified-gay]

MINISKIRT masterlist

pairing: professor!wanda x fem!reader

warning: ??

wc: 1.7k

note: Inspired by the cunty miniskirt of aoa, been a while since I posted so here it is.

I'm wearing a miniskirt.

But why are you the only one who doesn't notice?

You felt good. You looked good.

Your hands trailed over your curves, fingers mapping the way your clothes hugged your body just right. A smirk curled on your lips as you admired yourself in the mirror—high heels elongating your legs, the fabric of your miniskirt perfectly smooth under your freshly painted nails.

you weren’t dressing for anyone in particular. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

"Holy—"

You whipped around at the sudden voice behind you, your roommate standing in the doorway, eyes shamelessly dragging over your figure.

"Who are we trying to look good for?" she teased, biting her lip, her gaze never leaving you.

"No one," you replied quickly, though it came out a little too defensive.

She raised a brow, clearly not buying it. She stepped closer, adjusting the collar of your shirt, her nails grazing your skin deliberately, coaxing the truth out of you. "Bullshit," she said sweetly.

Rolling your eyes, you felt a familiar heat creep up your neck. "I’m not trying to impress anyone."

But she wasn’t listening. She flopped onto your bed with a smirk that made your stomach twist. "She won’t be able to take her eyes off you now."

You swallowed, pulse quickening. "Still the same?"

"Yes," you muttered, collapsing beside her with a groan. "It’s frustrating. She used to look at me like I was…" You trailed off, the words hard to say.

"Everything?" she finished for you, her voice low, as if knowing what you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

Yes.

Because she had looked at you that way.

Professor Wanda Maximoff always found your eyes during lectures, her gaze lingering longer than necessary. Her voice would drop an octave when she called your name, and her touch—always fleeting but deliberate—lingered when she handed back your papers, or when your hands brushed in the hallways.

You had been her favorite.

Everyone saw it. Everyone knew.

But recently?

It had all changed.

Her gaze turned cold. Her touches vanished. Her words became clinical, dismissive. As though you were just another student—nothing special.

You didn’t know what happened. You didn’t know what had caused her to shut you out. But one thing was certain: if she wasn’t going to look at you the way she once did, you would make her.

Class was the next morning, and you had carefully planned your outfit. You chose the clothes you were trying on last night, a tight miniskirt and a fitted blouse—one that accentuated your curves, one that would make her notice you. You didn’t care that you might seem bold or inappropriate. If Wanda wasn’t going to give you the attention you craved, you’d find a way to force it from her.

As you walked into class, you could already feel it—the tension.

You chose a seat in the front row, a place you rarely sat, and crossed your legs slowly, letting the hem of your skirt inch upward. Your fingers brushed the fabric absentmindedly, smoothing it out, almost as if you were teasing her. What you didn't caught is Wanda’s eyes flicker to you, and it unconsciously sent a thrill down your spine.

You could feel her gaze on you, heavy and assessing, but she said nothing, continuing with the lecture like everything was normal.

This wasn’t normal.

Her voice dipped lower, harsher, when she called on you. "Miss Y/L/N, since you seem so comfortable today, why don’t you answer the next question?"

You tilted your head, playing innocent, pretending you weren’t aware of what you were doing. "Which question, Professor?" you asked, your voice steady.

Wanda’s fingers tightened on the lectern, her knuckles white. You saw her jaw tense, and something flickered behind her eyes.

Thinking your planned worked. You leaned forward just slightly, the movement causing the fabric of your skirt to ride up a little more. Wanda’s gaze flickered again—this time it lingered longer, and you could see her struggling to maintain control.

Her voice trembled, betraying her resolve. "What is the defining characteristic of a..." She trailed off, as if the words were becoming harder to say, harder to focus on.

You felt it, that familiar energy pulsing between the two of you. She was fighting it. But you weren’t going to let her win.

You shifted again in your seat, slowly, letting your body draw her eyes like a magnet. You traced your fingers over the hem of your skirt, just enough for her to see, but not enough to give you away.

"Professor?" you asked, your voice low, almost teasing.

She snapped her gaze back to the board, her breathing shallow. The class seemed to stretch on forever, but in that moment, all you could hear was your own heartbeat—and Wanda’s quickened pulse beneath the surface.

When class ended, you didn’t wait. You stood immediately, gathering your things quickly, knowing she wouldn’t let you go without addressing what had happened.

You walked up to the front of the room, the slight click of your heels on the tile floor echoing through the otherwise empty lecture hall.

Wanda’s eyes followed you the whole way, and you saw the tightness in her jaw, the tension in her shoulders. She was trying so hard not to give in.

But you weren’t going to make it easy for her.

You stopped in front of her desk, standing just a little too close, waiting for her to meet your eyes.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, her breath ragged, her gaze dark.

And then, slowly, she exhaled. "Miss Y/L/N," she said, her voice dangerously low. "Do you think you’re clever?"

You leaned forward slightly, matching her tone, matching her challenge. "I think you want me," you said, each word deliberate.

Wanda didn’t move, didn’t respond immediately. But you saw the way her chest rose and fell, saw the way her fingers curled against the desk.

Her eyes never left you as she spoke again, her voice like velvet. "You’re playing a dangerous game."

You swallowed, a rush of heat flooding your body. Maybe you were.

But you knew one thing for sure—if she wasn’t going to make a move, then you would.

And this game? It was only just beginning.

You leaned in just a fraction closer, your breath mingling with hers. "Are you going to punish me, Professor?" you whispered, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

For a split second, Wanda’s face was unreadable—her expression wavering between something dangerous and something far more personal.

"You’re asking for trouble," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She stood up, moving just a step closer, her presence almost suffocating now.

Your pulse raced as the space between you two became thinner, the tension unbearable. There was no going back now.

"You want this," you said, your voice breathless.

Wanda’s eyes darkened, her lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing came out. Instead, she took another step, her hand reaching up to trace the outline of your jaw.

Her touch was light, but it sent a jolt of heat straight through you. You tilted your head slightly, your lips just inches from hers.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the forbidden tension that had been building for weeks.

And then, Wanda's voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence: "Next time… don’t come so close."

You smiled, knowing full well that there would be a next time.

And next time, your miniskirt would lay in a crumpled heap on her bedroom floor.

[madschiavelique]

By any chance, do you have any thoughts about poly tavrem with GN Tav who likes to spend time with Scratch and Owlbear cub a lot? I'm curious :3

omggg so cute

content warnings : none, literally pure fluff word count : 743

shadowheart loves animals, that is no news, thus she definitely spends time with you and the two lovelies whenever she can. she loves seeing you giggle when Scratch comes to lick your face when you're on the ground, the owlbear's beak nudging against your shoulder. she will collect the owlbear's fallen feathers, and will always find some stick or object that she brings to you as a new toy for them.

gale is much more used to cats and tressyms considering his experience with Tara. he is not very fond of a dogs drool and the way its tongue oddly dangles on the side when it huffs in happiness, but seeing your smile when you pat scratch while he looks like so makes you look so beautiful. when night falls and you start running around the camp to play with both pets, he looks at you fondly while he writes a few poems on the way your laugh echoes in the air of his heart.

astarion isn't used to pets, the only animals he ever shared the company of being rats which ended up inevitably being his meals. you had warned him about biting either of your little friends, and he had promised not to touch any of their fur or feathers. when he saw you playing with them though, he almost got jealous of the attention you were giving them instead of him. so, at night when yo'ure sitting with both of them in front of you, astarion approached and sits with you, lacing an arm around your waist to get you closer to him in the hopes of sending to these two small brains that he also is yours.

lae'zel doesn’t get it. she does not get the appeal of any cute creature, as they would be worthless in battle and bring no honour to their owner. although she thinks that using some of your supplies just to feed thes animals is a waste of it, she has heard that dogs are most loyal to their masters and that owlbears once grown can be fierce fighters. when she thinks of the great warrior you are and the loyal beasts you are training for the future, she can't help but be proud and admire such thought

wyll is more of a dog guy, which is why he does spend some time with scratch to play with him. but when he saw you taking such great care of the owlbear cub, which in his adult form would have been quite a threat, he finds it extremelly endearing. the fact you took in these helpless animals by your side and take care of them every day and night and play with them is adorable to him, and he will join you to play with them from time to time.

karlach wants to join the fun you have with them all the time. at the very beginning, she could not approach them, her flames and heat visibly scaring them off much to her sadness. she would see the owlbear's sleepy head lay on your lap while you kissed Scratch on his head and she wished she could do the same. when dammon managed to contain her heat better though, the two were less scared and finally approached her. from this day on, every time you play with them, she comes along and runs around the camp while being chased by the two of them.

halsin's heart fills with joys to the sight of you spending time with the two sweet things. you come to see him often about it, to ask if owlbears or dogs have certain foods they prefer or that could be dangerous to them so that you know what to look for when you loot a new place. he loves the way you are with them, so attentive and sweet, and finds you particularly cute when you talk to them as if they could understand everything you said.

minthara's is not used to such kinds of pets. she owned spiders, much less warm to comfort as these two, and it impressed her how docile you had managed to make them. she doesn't get much of the appeal of having creatures so loud and energetic around you all, but they listen to you and the way your eyes shine when you come back to the camp after a long day and see them waiting for you makes her lips stretch in a smile.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hello! do you think harry would be able to properly communicate with the horcruxes, if he tried? (besides the diary, obviously)

also, since nagini is a living horcrux — like himself — do you think she’d be able to feel the part of voldemort’s soul living inside harry? maybe feel some kind of kinship with him?

i’m wondering because i’ve seen this idea of horcruxes becoming sentient, communicating with harry and recognizing the fellow horcrux in him — maybe even getting attached — many times in fanfictions. i can’t remember how plausible it is, though, given what we’re supposed to know from the books

I think they can. Like, the Horcruxes can sense each other.

I mean, Harry does feel a draw towards the other Horcruxes. I mentioned it in the past but Harry feels drawn to the diary:

Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.

(CoS, Ch13)

He feels drawn to the locket enough to insist on wearing it:

“Hmm,” said Hermione, looking down at the heavy gold locket. “Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent.” “We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,” Harry stated firmly. “If we lose it, if it gets stolen — ”

(DH, Ch15)

You could argue he feels drawn to the diadem as well. I mean, he enters the mess of the room of requirement and walks straight to where a Horcrux is located to hid the Prince's book?

Harry hurried forward into one of the many alleyways between all this hidden treasure. [...] he stood it on top of the cupboard where the book was now hidden, perched a dusty old wig and a tarnished tiara on the statue’s head to make it more distinctive, then sprinted back through the alleyways of hidden junk as fast as he could go

(HBP, Ch24)

I mean, seems a little sus unless he felt drawn to it like he did the other Horcruxes.

And even with Nagini, he's quicker to trust her as Bathilda than Hermione is becouse he feels that draw without realising it:

Harry could think of many reasons not to obey the summons, and yet his suspicions about her identity were growing stronger every moment that they stood facing each other in the deserted street.

(DH, Ch17)

I think Nagini also sensed that same draw to Harry. After all, she knows to approach Harry and Hermione in Godric's Hallow when they're both under the effects of Polyjuice potion + the invisibility cloak:

He did not need Hermione’s pinch to his arm. There was next to no chance this woman was a Muggle: She was standing there gazing at a house that ought to have been completely invisible to her, if she was not a witch. Even assuming that she was a witch, however, it was odd behavior to come out on a night this cold, simply to look at an old ruin. By all the rules of normal magic, meanwhile, she ought not to be able to see Hermione and him at all. Nevertheless, Harry had the strangest feeling that she knew that they were there, and also who they were. Just as he had reached this uneasy conclusion, she raised a gloved hand and beckoned. Hermione moved closer to him under the Cloak, her arm pressed against his. “How does she know?” He shook his head. The woman beckoned again, more vigorously.

(DH, Ch17)

“Do you really think she knows who you are?” “Yes,” said Harry, looking down into the milky eyes fixed upon his own, ”I think she does.”

(DH, Ch17)

But it isn't something super noticeable unless Harry is actively paying attention to it. But, it does mean he could potentially recognize when something is a Horcrux if he learned to recognise it.

Nagini doesn't seem to be able to communicate with the Horcrux in her from what we see, but I think you could argue the Horcrux within Harry is a little more sentient than we are led to belive. I talked about this here an on Horcrux sentience in general here, but there are multiple scenes that could be read as the Horcrux communicating with Harry, for example:

It happened in a fraction of a second: In the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said “three,” Harry looked up at him — they were very close together — and Dumbledore’s clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry’s face. At once, Harry’s scar burned white-hot, as though the old wound had burst open again — and unbidden, unwanted, but terrifyingly strong, there rose within Harry a hatred so powerful he felt, for that instant, that he would like nothing better than to strike — to bite — to sink his fangs into the man before him —

(OotP, 474)

(This might be the Horcrux's reaction to Dumbledore since there's no reason Voldemort would randomly be angry at Dumbledore when Harry looks at him)

And the memory of his parents dying, which isn't one Harry was old enough to remeber, but that he had nightmares about even before the dementors:

Something very painful was going on in Harry’s mind. As Hagrid’s story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before — and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

(PS, 43)

I belive this memory is from the Horcrux, so, yeah...

Some bleed-through and communication happen, but not anything too big, mostly because Harry isn't aware of the Horcrux. If he was aware, I think he might've been able to communicate with the Horcrux within him more. Maybe.

[confused-reading-ink-rat]

(Snippet from the previous part:)

Galinda froze, feeling the skin just below her ear start to tingle. She hurriedly sat herself in front of her mirror, eagerly staring at her reflection, waiting for the colors to mark her body. 

As the door opened and her roommate invited herself inside, Galinda stared in disbelief. 

A simple green poppy with heart-shaped petals. 

Then, Galinda spoke in a soft tone she didn't know she could say with the name she had laced with malice so many times slipped out of her lips. 

"Elphaba."

—————

Elphaba stood there, blinking in confusion. Galinda looked away from the mirror on her vanity, turning to her with soft eyes, looking at her almost longingly, like she was something to be missed. Of course, it wasn’t, at least that’s what she told herself.

“Elphaba.” The blonde repeated, whispering softly as if she was talking to a frightened child. She was, in a way, young Elphaba would have rejoiced at the tone her name was being called. However, the current Elphaba remained frozen and confused. 

The first time could have been an accident, a slip-up, Galinda Upland wouldn’t be caught dead calling her name like that. In truth it probably was a mistake, taking Galinda’s shock when she heard herself. But here she was, doing it again, and consciously? Why, she feared her roommate might have actually lost it. What she would have thought if she ever truly believed the girl had it in the first place.

“Galinda.” She echoed, keeping her tone as dry as possible. She felt a tingle just below her ear, something that called for her attention. She brushed it off as she walked to her part of the room. She kept her attention on her tasks, swiftly fixing her drawers with her books and limited school supplies. Even occasionally walking across the room to organize her very few possessions. She hardly changed anything, but she had to move.

Galinda stared at her the whole time, her eyes tracking every movement, glazing over little details. There was something in her gaze that Elphaba couldn’t quite read, and she prides herself in being able to read people easily. It was a very usefull skill when everyone only looked at you in disdain, but she soon learned ther were nuances to that disdain. That was the only reason she knew of any other emotion, Dulcibear tried to teach her, but she was a bear and only knew so much of human expressions. Where was that skill when she most needed it? She’s had people stare before, different muddled gazes of disdain, fear, confusion, amusement, and if she's lucky, intrigue. Intrigue but not in a way one would show a person they want to mingle with, but intrigue the same one holds for study, for an exceptionally rare insect they were fascinated by.

Elphaba Thropp had people stare at her, her whole life was filled with strange looks and barely-hidden disgust.

But she had never been stared at like this, she doesn't recognize this.

This was something different, something new.

And she hated it.

She hated she couldn't understand it. She'd always been that way with things she didn't understand.

Eventually, Elphaba had enough, no, more than enough.

She turned her gaze to Galinda, silently hoping a glare would communicate enough and she’d stop staring at her in that way. But instead she did something Elphaba never and couldn't have expected, because of course she did. She always did.

“We’re soulmates.” the blonde whispered gently, then gave her a small but sincere smile. She spoke softly as if she’d just shared her heart’s deepest secret, their deepest secret. One that was just between the two of them. If that's what's this is, Elphaba intended to keep it that way.

“Excuse me?” Elphaba asked harshly, she feared her tone was a lot more accusatory than necessary, it was. She saw it in the way Galinda’s expression fell. The way her soft smile was wiped from her face almost immediately.

Disappointment, Elphaba thought.

Disappointment, Galinda’s mind echoed. But not in Elphaba, but herself, Oz knows how many horrendible things she's done to the poor girl. The words slipped out before she can register what she’s saying, but that seemed to be the theme of the night, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry.”

Gentle, apologetic, and most of all, sincere.

Elphaba stared at her as if she had gone and did three cartwheels, professed herself enemy of the state, then had tea with a tiger. Galinda isn’t sure what conjured the imagery that passed through her head just now, mad would have sufficed. Maybe she was mad. She chose to blame it on the exhilaration of finding her soulmate. And the bewilderment of who it was.

“We’re soulmates.” Elphaba muttered, not loud, but loud enough for Galinda to hear what she was saying. 

Galinda nodded in reply, but she wanted to do more. So she spoke, “Yes, we are.” she affirmed.

“This,” The green girl stepped forward, each step calculated and measured, as if entering a predator’s territory. “Changes nothing.”

The Gillikinese girl stares at her and nods. Elphaba stares back, trying to decipher the unreadable expression in her eyes and failing. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispered again helplessly.

“Sorry? Of course you’re sorry.” The sad, angry, and bitter part of Elphaba reared its ugly head, she hardly lost control nowadays, and she hasn’t since arriving at Shiz. Years of bullying and being neglected can do that to you. She hardly lost control, but that didn’t mean she didn’t.

“You’re only sorry because I’m your soulmate.” she hissed, clenching her fists. “If I wasn’t, you would keep throwing insults left and right! You'll keep calling me names, artichoke, green bean- you’d keep interrupting me like I had nothing important to say, ostracizing me like I didn't belong. Alright, maybe I didn't!" Maybe she was projecting far too much, but the moment she lost control, it was impossible to get it back. "And I can deal with that, I always have! Insults, social isolation, I had that and more. But you didn't have to go so far as to start destroying my things!” she uttered the last sentence with more conviction than intended.

She hardly had any possessions to begin with, much less at Shiz, and certainly very few compared to Galinda’s mountain of souvenirs from home. So the very little she had, she cherished. From the small notes in pieces of paper and parchment she took in class to the books borrowed from the library and down to her black dyed school uniform and prestigious magick volumes and spells. 

And to have them trashed? Destroyed? For what? Because others couldn’t believe she was on top of the class? Because she was the only one in Madame's Morrible’s Sorcery class? Because she was green? That was too much, even for her.

“Doing what?” Galinda asked, her own fists clenching. She stood up abruptly, her eyes boring into Elphaba’s. Had she been unaware? Elphaba blinked, her composure faltering before she remembered what she was talking about.

"What?" Oh great, Elphaba thought to herself. Now that she no longer had rage to pull from, she had shrank back to her old self. She had run out of resolve and didn't quite know how to respond.

“Do you not- today, someone dumped their coffee on my notes. It’s not all gone, nothing a drying spell wouldn’t fix-” She doesn’t know why she’s downplaying it, especially when it's something that hurt hernso badly. Yet something told her that the anger in Galinda’s eyes is dangerous, and she had to distract her from it as soon as possible.

“Also, you did bully me and loathe me for my whole stay up since the start of the school year.” she reminded the blonde.

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed.

“I’m sorry.” Galinda repeated, her anger melting back into apology.

“You sound like a broken record.” More poison than necessary.

Galinda stiffened.

Then, as Elphaba began to walk back to her bed when the girl added, “I’ll take care of them.” 

She almost felt bad for the victim of Galinda’s wrath, but you know what? They deserve it. 

She does not see the mark behind her ear, the pink reflection of Galinda's own mark.

She doesn't have to.

She knows Galinda is her soulmate.

It's just a question if Elphaba would let herself be Galinda's.

(Part 2?)

To the people who commented they wanted more;

@nether2010

I unfortunateky can't seem to tag kekescalope

Shout out to the anon who asked me about this earlier today!

Part 1 : Here

[little-miss-alone-n-in-love]

I feel like stiles would be into being a secret dom. He definitely thinks it’s so hot that every one of his friends thinks his gf is in charge when in reality he has her drooling and whining every night.

And I just know this man is HUNG and no one would ever guess, he wouldn’t flaunt it or anything but this man definitely has big dick energy.

I have to agree! He loves seeing his girl get all the attention and appreciation. "Let them think what they want," he says in his mind, smiling a few feet away as he plans how the night will end for her (she'll be bent in half and unable to form a sentence).

Personally, I think that Stiles is a switch, but when he lets his girlfriend get on top and "take control" he's still the one who's guiding her hips and whispering words of encouragement to her. He likes having influence over a situation and making decisions.

As for his massive package, I genuinely believe that Stiles has watched so much porn that he doesn't know what classifies as a big dick. He just thinks it's normal because that's what all the pornstars have. What he imagines is a big dick is absolutely ridiculous and unrealistic, probably even impossible.

The first time they had penetrative sex, her eyes went wide at the sight of him. He didn't understand why and tried to brush it off, saying, "Don't worry, it'll go right in. It's average."

She looked at him like he was crazy, because he was, and still is. No matter how much she tries to convince him that he's enormous, he just shakes his head. His modesty is almost admirable, but his stubborn attitude shines through, almost driving her crazy.

Thank you so much for your submission! When I first read this, I smiled so big and had to take a deep breath... 💜

[loafysainz]

Animals Chapter 1 | LN 4

cast: lando norris x minji newjeans

warn: PLS DONT READ IF U NOT INTO DARK FIC! SMUT 18+, NSFW, MDNI, toxic relationship, manipulation, obsession, controlling behaviors, mention of rape, suicide, and sa, rough sex, no-consent, kidnapping, full of madness, stepbrother lando!, stepsister minji!

song rec: animals - maroon 5

chapt 1/8

PLS DONT READ IF U NOT INTO DARK FIC!

"Papa!" 

Bianca barged into the VVIP hospital room, her heart racing as she spotted her father sitting on the bed. Without hesitation, she threw herself into his embrace, not caring that the book he’d been reading slipped from his hands. Nor did she pay any attention to his assistant, who was quietly standing by the window. Her worry overshadowed everything else. 

"Why didn't you tell me? How could you keep this from me?" she demanded, her voice trembling. 

Her father chuckled softly, running a hand through her disheveled hair. "You were on your way to campus, weren't you? Telling you would've only made you more anxious. But now you're here, and I'm fine."

Bianca pulled back, seeing her father's face. His calm demeanor unsettled her, as if nothing was wrong. But before she could ask more, his assistant coughed lightly, signaling the need for discretion. 

He gestured toward the man, raising an eyebrow. "Speaking of surprises, you want to tell me what I've been hearing about you and Daniel? Meeting at a hotel of all places?" 

Her stomach dropped. "Papa, it's not what you think! We ran into each other by coincidence. We only talked about work, nothing more." 

Her father's stern expression softened, but only slightly. "You know how it looks. The media doesn't care about coincidences, Bi. And Daniel…he's a sharp man, but I'm not sure he's above using this to his advantage."

"I promise, nothing happened," she insisted. "I was completely innocent."

"I believe you," her father sighed. "But next time, be more careful. In this world, even innocent moments can be scandals."

***

"Bi," her father called gently, breaking the silence in the room. 

She looked up from the couch where she had been sitting, her arms folded tightly around her knees. Her eyes were still clouded with worry. 

"It’s late," he continued, glancing at the clock on the wall. The hands showed it was nearing midnight. "You should go home and get some rest. You’ve had a long day."

"No," Bianca protested immediately. "I want to stay here with you, Papa. What if something happens? I need to be here."

Her father sighed, a mix of affection and exasperation. "Bi, I'm fine. You've seen for yourself that there's nothing to worry about. The doctors are excellent, and I’m in good hands. Besides," he added, gesturing toward the door, "I won't rest properly knowing you're here, sitting on that uncomfortable couch.

"But, Papa-"

"No buts," he cut her off firmly, though his tone remained kind. "I need you to take care of yourself too. Go home, sleep, and come back tomorrow. You'll feel better after you've had some rest."

She hesitated, her lips pressed into a tight line. Her father reached out, taking her hand in his. "Please, for me. You being healthy and well is the best thing you can do for me right now."

Reluctantly, Bianca nodded. "Okay," she whispered. "But you have to promise to call me if you need anything. Anything, Papa."

He smiled, squeezing her hand. "I promise. Now go, and drive safely."

As she gathered her things and walked toward the door, she glanced back at him one last time. He gave her a reassuring wave, his smile steady. It didn't completely ease her worry, but it was enough to make her step out into the night, the sound of his calm voice echoing in her mind.

***

Bianca got home at almost 12 a.m. Its because she had to do something for her assignment in her studio, making her late.

Bianca sighed and dragged herself up to the second floor. The house was unusually dark, which immediately annoyed her. Sure, one of the house keeper had texted saying she was at the hospital with her dad, but why were the lights off? Bianca hated the dark, especially when she had to feel her way along the walls to

“Wow. Amazing Bianca.” 

She froze. Every nerve in her body screamed. The lights suddenly flickered back on, and that voice… it came from behind her. Her breath hitched. 

“Out having fun again, huh?” 

Bianca turned slowly, her heart racing as the shadowy figure came closer. The heat of his presence suffocated her. 

“Still early, though, isn’t it?” he sneered, now circling her like a predator. His voice was icy and sharp. “Finally remember you have a home to come back to? Answer me, damn it!” 

“L-Lando,” she stuttered, her voice barely a whisper. Tears welled in her eyes, and her legs felt like jelly. He was terrifying, like a nightmare brought to life. His piercing gaze burned with anger, and Bianca was powerless against it. 

Lando Norris, her older brother that she could never escape. He leaned closer, his movements unhinged. 

"What Bianca? You don't want to see me?" he spat, his tone escalating. "Then maybe stop acting like a spoiled brat!"

Bianca flinched as his voice echoed through the house. 

"You think my life revolves around cleaning up your messes?!" Lando's furious words hit her like a truck. His breathing was ragged, and his expression was pure fury. Bianca couldn't even muster the courage to defend herself. His presence always turned her world gray, making her wish she could disappear. 

"I had to fly back from Monaco because of YOU! Do you even realize how much trouble you've caused? Papa in the hospital because of your nonsense!"

Bianca wanted to explain, to say something, but her voice was trapped in her throat. Her silence only fueled Lando's rage. He grabbed her jaw, his grip harsh and unrelenting, and shoved her to the floor. The impact made her wince, but he didn't stop. He stormed off, leaving behind the scent of bold notes of earthy amberwood, which only added to her pain. 

The housekeeper rushed over to help Bianca up, her voice trembling with concern. "Miss, are you okay? Come on, let's get you up."

But Bianca couldn't even stand. Her tears streamed silently as her heart shattered into a million pieces. 

"You know how much money I've spent cleaning up after your scandals?" Lando's voice echoed from across the room. He looked at her like she was nothing. "You're a disgrace to this family. Why do you always have to shame the family?"

Bianca's silent sobs only grew heavier. Every word cut deeper than the last. She couldn't even scream, though her soul was begging to. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the stairs broke the tense atmosphere. 

"Sir, stop. Please. She's had enough," the housekeeper pleaded, her voice breaking. 

But Lando didn't even flinch. His cold, piercing stare was locked onto Bianca. In those few seconds, she wished she could disappear. 

This wasn't just a bad day it was a storm that would leave her drowning.

next chap

[sylus-little-meow-meow]

Part 1: The run in

Frustration.

Annoyance.

Anger. 

Every time she's forced into close proximity with this man, she loses her mind that much more. 

What did I ever see in him anyway?

She wrinkles her nose in contemplation. 

From the corner of her eye, she can see his smug bastard of a smile tug at his lips. 

Shit. 

He's noticed her.

Whatever. That's not what's important right now.

Don't pay him any mind. Just get in and get out. 

Easier said than done though as he presses closer towards her, his intimidating presence causing people to shuffle out of the way, clearing a path for him like he's parting the goddamn red sea. 

Once upon a time she was drawn to that power.

Now she is not.

Sylvia taps at her sister's arm and Lumi looks up from the buffet table, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrels. 

Looks like someone got into the gourmet chocolate.

But it's good shit so who can blame her?

The hotel staff know how to hold a shindig, throwing open the doors of their ballroom in order to display a surplus of goods for all potential buyers and ensuring they're well fed so they’ll linger for longer, maybe even make a few drunk purchases. 

There's a few protocores that even managed to snag her attention. 

She almost swiped one or two of them when Sylus waltzed through those same ballroom doors and his eyes immediately found hers.

Like someone caught with their hand in a cookie jar, his smug smile was knowing. 

Amused even.

The bastard.

Lumi: Sylvia?

Lumi: What's wrong?

Her little sister cleans her chocolate coated fingers with a napkin. 

She gazes out towards the crowd of people before she snags on a familiar form.

It's then that Sylvia witnesses her sister's shift in demeanor, her bright and cheerful personality decimated by the part of her she usually reserves for wanderers. 

She's caught on that Sylus is here.

And if looks could kill…

Sylvia withholds a shudder.

She's not afraid of her baby sister.

She's just more than aware of what she's capable of. 

And when Lumi gets like this, she turns into someone Sylvia doesn't even recognize. 

She has a different ex to thank for that one. 

They need to leave. 

Now. 

Sylvia tosses her long silver locks over a shoulder, trying not to appear bothered as she gives Sylus—her former lover, now ex—her back.

Sylvia: Don't worry about it. I think we've gotten all we can for now and I'm exhausted. I could use a nap.

Lumi nods and then she looks positively mischievous as she holds up a finger. 

Sylvia watches as her sister turns, opens up her purse and tosses an entire platter of wrapped gourmet chocolates into her purse before snapping the clutch shut.

Lumi: Alright, I am good to go. 

Sylvia sags with relief before turning and—

Runs face first into a broad chest.

The amused chuckle that follows causes her to take a reflexive step back and a scowl to pull at her features. 

Sylus: Not much has changed with you two, I see.

Sylus: I'm shocked you haven't tried stealing the chocolate fountain next.

Lumi: It's offered free to guests so it's fair game.

Sylvia catches sight of Lumi just in time to watch as her baby sister—still glaring at Sylus—opens her purse and defiantly tosses yet another plate of chocolates into her purse.

Sylvia: Okay, Lu-Lu, I love you. But those are going to melt and wreck the lining. 

Lumi: Worth it. 

In goes another plate of chocolates. 

She has not looked away from Sylus once. 

Well. At least she's not trying to hunt him down and go for the throat like last time.

Sylvia sighs as she folds her arms over her chest and refocuses all of her attention on her ex-lover, raising her chin, doing her best to appear bored. 

Sylvia: Can you move? We were just leaving.

Sylus: Is that what you were doing? From what I witnessed, you were also trying to sneak something out the door. 

Sylus: Up to your old tricks again, kitten?

She grinds her teeth. 

Why is her nickname always a goddamn purr on his lips?

It's like he purposefully dips his voice just so it reverberates all the way down to her womb and ovaries. 

She's too sober for this. 

She doesn't even look as a waiter passes by carrying a serving tray carrying flutes of champagne, plucking one by the stem and offering her ex lover a cutting smile.

Around him she's sharpened like knives. 

She’ll never let her guard down.

Never again. 

He watches her with introspective eyes, almost like he can see through her charade. 

But it doesn't matter. 

It's the only way she can protect herself from old feelings resurging. 

Sylvia: The best time to bail is after you've gotten what you've wanted and run. 

Her smile is cutting. 

Sylvia: But I bet you'd know all about that wouldn't you? 

Something flashes behind those crimson of his eyes and she wonders if she's struck a nerve. 

Sylvia smiles at the thought and raises her glass before downing the glass of champagne in one full swig before placing it on another platter passing by.

Sylvia: Now again. Get the fuck out of my way, Sylus. 

Sylus: You never were one to ask for things politely. 

He says as he leans closer, bending at the waist so that his lips are near her ear.

Sylus: But wouldn't using your claws be more effective?

Sylus: Don't tell me you've forgotten how to use them after all this time, kitten. 

His eyes meet hers and Sylvia can't decide whether or not she wants to pull him closer or rake her fingernails down his annoyingly hot face. 

Then the Aether core reacts and she sucks in a sharp breath before quickly looking away.

No way in hell will she let him do that. 

He's not allowed to know the truth in her heart. 

And she'd rather remain oblivious if it doesn't align with her current feelings of hatred.

She needs another drink. 

Sylvia: I'd rather not cause a scene. 

Sylus: Is that right? I thought you were all about the dramatics—especially storming out of our home all those months ago. 

Sylus: Did you really change your ways in such a short time?

There's an amused tilt to his lips.

No hurt or regret. 

Not like she felt when she returned to her place, heartbroken at the revelation that their relationship meant nothing to him and everything to her. 

A one sided love.

I'm such an idiot. 

[thewolfisawake]

"So this is the Tengmen Empire...no wonder it has such a large reputation," the prince marveled, looking at the bustling hub. So many different scents and visuals that dotted the place...certainly brighter than Darkovia, "at least souvenirs aren't going to be a problem. Oh, unless it's narrowing it down..."

"Knowing you, you will simply buy them all and give the extras to the staff or knights," his retainer remarked, "though I will agree, it is quite...staggering. Between the normal commerce and the influx of guests from afar, it is teeming with people. Do keep a watch, Tannim, last thing we need is a gutsy pickpocket."

"Well if it's money they want," he started, thinking how it wasn't likely to hurt him much physically, but then looked, "You changed your hair."

"Mn, I find places with many vagrants and the like become quite...nosy when it comes to my eye. As such, I simply will make it where it will not come to their minds."

"But it gets you so many compliments. Who knows, maybe it will help you meet someone," Tannim half-heartedly teased. That had her have to stop herself from her unsightly cackle, "Ha, the only thing I meet is trouble. And for the sake of Her Majesty and her Consort, I promised I would keep that to a minimum."

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[depresseddepot]

me: hey so one of the three cats has diarrhea but I need to figure out who. can you keep an eye on your cat, because he only really comes down here to use the litter box so I can't watch how he's acting like I can the others

my mother: wh.......huh........... .? "keep an eye on him"...........i mean............ill try.......how am i expected to do that......................do i just "look" at him.....?. "pay attention to him..?"......i don't think i can do that.......... .you're being so fucking dramatic actually. this fork becoming dirty after i ate using it is your fault too