#so I do like her but I don't have actual personal substance in my liking of her!

[beneathsilverstars]

i love to explain my opinions so here's my actual drinking headcanons

siffrin - doesn't seem to get tipsy. he mostly just gets less anxious, which means he's less worried about saying the wrong thing but also less concerned with pushing himself to talk, so he's basically behaving the same way and just having different emotions about it! they appear perfectly stone-cold sober until they eventually suddenly hit drunk drunk and now they're liable to fall flat on their face and not remember it the next morning. takes a while to get there though, they may be small but they're also prone to alcoholism. (drinking to self-medicate mental illness is not a good idea, everyone.)

mirabelle - thinks beer smells nasty; wine's better, but grape juice is one of the worst fruit juices to begin with so eh. she'll have a hard cider on occasion or a fruity mixed drink, but only one and maybe not even the whole thing. she doesn't like feeling weird and she gets worried about acting weird!

isabeau - gets tipsy on half a mixed drink and then gets steadily more drunk from there. historically hasn't gone past two drinks in a row for fear of messing up his himbo persona, though he metabolizes it fast enough that if he's staying out late he can have another drink or two. being drunk turns isabeau into even more of a clown; he wants to have fun and he wants everyone else to have fun and more importantly he wants them to like him!! he'll fetch the next round, tip generously, share his food, join unwise schemes just because someone asked him to and pointing out the risks would make him seem like a square, etc.

odile - would drink vodka straight out of the bottle and get reckless as a youth. good thing cars don't exist! she no longer believes that she's too smart to make stupid decisions, but she still likes to cut loose with a couple shots, which she's very consistent about: she knows exactly how much alcohol will get her pleasantly buzzed without leading to a hangover. she's a lot more open and social when she's drunk. she's happy enough with her usual dry humor and too-old-for-this attitude, but sometimes it's nice to have an excuse to get uncharacteristically silly and dramatic for an evening instead!

pétronille: doesn't drink. she says it's because she has too many responsibilities, but she doesn't like to be around drunk people, either.

euphrasie: likes wine. she might have a glass or two to unwind after a long day, or pop open a nice vintage on a special occasion. she's willing to try other drinks, but she already knows what she likes the best and she's definitely not looking to get wasted. being too impaired makes it hard to do all the things she wants to do! she's more affectionate when she's tipsy, which is saying something because she's already quite enthusiastic and loving and touchy.

claude: prefers other substances, but isn't opposed to drinking. she's not picky about what the drink is, though she likes to try weird mixed drinks and euphrasie's wines and homemade brews. she doesn't see the point of having one or two drinks; if she's having more than a sip then she's getting blasted. she isn't a very inhibited person anyway, so she's not very different while drunk, just even louder and more distractible.

loop: can't get drunk because they can't consume anything. if they could, and weren't pulled into the party by siffrin immediately post-canon, they'd be physically dependent on alcohol within a month.

[bumblingbabooshka]

thoughts on saavik?

I don't know anything about Saavik v_v I really love these two posts about her though! X and X I think about these posts often and whenever I do I feel like I want to draw!

[sketchtastrophee]

old art again!! this time a rough animation of sawyer and yarnaby 😎 (looks better if u click to view 😭)

im working on a short ppt animation rn. im thinking i should post it to my youtube channel, though im not sure if people here would see it. i think i can link videos on here?? idk

okay I'm gonna talk abt more chapter 4 stuff.. this time about prototype's previous identity.. ch4 spoilers and also a theory below..

hiding the solo yarnaby under here LOL

people theorized 1006 was elliot, which was recently disproven in the chapter 4 tape where poppy refers to elliot as her dad and wishes he were there. in the same tape she addresses prototype as a completely different person. also recall that elliot died in the 90s, meanwhile prototype met theo in 1989. so yeah, they aren't the same person

I've also seen people say rich is prototype, which cannot be true either. in a ch4 tape he speaks to one of the employees under his supervision. the kid mentions his coworkers joking about him going missing. before the bbi, it would not make sense for this to be a common rumor at the company, which means this tape had to happen after harley was hired in 1990; at a time when the company would have a reason to silence people

prototype existed in 1989 at the minimum, but considering he says "it's always been about you and me" to poppy, he's likely the prototype of HER. she's elliots daughter, she died in the 60s, meaning prototype was probably created around that time as well.

this means that rich can't be the prototype because he was human long after prototype was made

if you want my take on who prototype truly is, i'd say his identity doesn't necessarily matter. i don't mean to say his origins aren't important, just that his name and specific role in the past probably doesn't mean anything in the long run. i've never believed he was elliot or rich, and maybe in the future i'll be proven wrong but for now i'll tell you the theory i've had since june of last year

elliot's daughter dies in the 60s. he divorced his wife in 1930, so his daughter is probably in her 30s when she dies. she gets sick or injured, maybe she's actively dying or already dead by the time elliot begins his research. he looks for ways to bring her back, but it doesn't work on the rats (as he mentioned a note in the 2nd chapter)

so what does he do? he tries it on something bigger as he said he would: a human. of course he's not going to try this experimental method on his own daughter, even if she's already dead, so he finds someone else to use it on. we know that elliot wasn't evil or anything, so it's unlikely he killed anybody to use for the experiment. considering the orphanage isn't open yet (it opened in the 70s, not the 60s), prototype probably wasn't an orphan child either. if i run with my simple version of the theory, elliot may have dug up a body in a graveyard and used that. maybe a fresh one, who knows. he tried it, it worked, then he revived his daughter with the same method.

this is likely what harley wanted to know about in the chapter 3 tape (the "i learn something new about you every day" one), and also what prototype is asking harley to figure out in the ch4 tape they're both in. in that case, sawyer never actually figured out how to revive people with the poppy substance. sure, he can transfer people into the toys, but he can't bring anybody back to life

more reason to believe prototype and poppy are of the same "batch" is because it seems they are the only two who don't need food. it's outright stated about him in the ch1 trailer, and insinuated with her saying the "toys will starve otherwise" when she's talking about how nasty them eating humans is. she refers to them, not herself. her and prototype are probably the only 2 who were ever brought back from the dead, which circles back around to his monologue and gives meaning to the "it's always been about you and me, poppy. what we are". when i heard him say that i felt like my theory was lowk confirmed 😭😭

no guarantee this is right, but it's been my guess for a long time

[parfaitblogs]

pretty isn't pretty ❀ s. reid x reader

in which the man you take home drunk meets the person you are sober, and he's all too forgiving for a stranger you'll probably only see once. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: alcohol consumption. reader has a bad relationship with her body. elusions to a hookup.  word count: 2.2k a/n: this isn't ooc for spencer reid you've just never hooked up with him. and that's ok. but i have. happy valentine's day from australia!! yay!!

"love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. and therefore is winged cupid blind." (a midsummer night's dream, william shakespeare)

There's a downpour of rain that came on so suddenly it had shocked you and your friends into a nearby bar. Droplets splattering against pavement and bouncing up to your otherwise exposed ankles. A skirt a poor choice of clothing for the cool air of a February night. 

The bar is small. You're sure if you concentrated hard enough, you could indulge yourself in each and every conversation happening around it. Men by the pool table succeeding at impressing the three girls they had found; gloating about their skills. An older couple huddled up in the back corner of the bar, two barely touched beers between them. A group of friends similar to your own occupying a booth and laughing louder than anyone else in the bar. 

A man. Alone. A glass of clear liquid that looks like water — but surely not? — between his hands, and a bartender talking to him and preparing more drinks. 

You connect the man to the group of people in the booth, for he turns his head and stares at them for a few seconds, lips moving as he counts them up. 

Then, his head turns to investigate the sudden rush of cold air entering the bar, and he meets your eyes. Newfound confidence — or the final tequila shot you took during pre's — kicks in, and your feet are carrying you over to him, a mere locking of a gaze inviting you in. You think. 

Maybe you're tipsier than you thought. 

"Do you need a hand with those?" you ask him, nodding your head towards the six glasses all filled to the brim, resting atop the bar. 

He hesitates, and glances back at the group of people in the booth, who are less concerned with him now that another conversation has piqued their interest. 

"If you're offering," he nods, picking up two of the glasses. "Though, it isn't wise of me to let a stranger handle my friends' drinks."

"You can pat me down first if you want," you reply, holding your arms out, as if you were in TSA. "See for yourself, officer."

He chokes on nothing, his eyes wide, and a coughing fit ensues for several seconds after. "It's—um, agent. Actually."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and your hands drop back by your side when he doesn't move to check for illicit substances on your person. You assume that means he trusts you.

"That's fancy," you quip, picking up three of the glasses. "What makes you an agent?"

"Working for the government," he replies, leading you over to the table, where you help him put the drinks on the table. "I left my water at the bar."

An expert excuse to drag you away from his group of friends before they have a chance to engage with you, really. 

"Working for the government," you parrot back to him, leaning against the bar when he does. "Do I get to ask more questions, or is it your turn now?"

"You can ask more questions."

He tells you his name when you ask. You tell him yours. 

And more questions got you drunk. More questions got you dragging him back to your apartment. More questions got you barely picking your feet up as you walk backwards, stumbling, as his lips kiss your own, and his hands hold your waist against his. 

Your hands fumble with the door handle of your bedroom, and you take the few seconds to silently pray to the universe that the girl who left the house earlier didn't leave fifteen failed outfit options strewn throughout it. 

You don't get a chance to turn around and check, for his lips are back on yours the second the door swings open, and he takes barely a moment to locate your bed in the room. If there are clothes everywhere, he doesn't make it an issue. 

He was a really good kisser. Mind blackening, body tingling, head reeling good. Every sound that hit your ears came from your own lips, you're sure. 

He breaks the kiss only to murmur, "Sorry," when the backs of your knees hit your bed frame, but you're a little too happy to care about the inevitable bruise currently forming on the skin there. 

Fingers of yours drag up to his scalp and entangle within his hair as you lay back on the bed, and he follows you down.

You force him to kiss you. Again. 

"Do you do this often?" you ask him, breathlessly, when he pulls away to litter his generous kisses over the skin of your jawline and neck.

"What?" he asks, hair covering his eyes as he pauses to look back up at you.

"Go home with girls from bars."

"Will you believe me if I say you're the first?" he moves back up to level his face with your own. 

"Probably not."

"You should."

You do.

Unfortunately, the question stemmed from the weird middle ground between being so drunk you don't remember five minutes ago, and being so sober you overthink every decision, accompanied by the sick crash from the sugar in your drinks. Which meant your liquid courage was dissipating with every ticking second, and you were retreating back into the secluded palace of your mind. 

It was why, when his fingers hook beneath the hem of your shirt, your own hands fly to stop him, wrapping around his wrists and freezing him in motion.

"What's wrong?" he asks. 

That causes you to freeze. 

You're not sure if telling this inherent stranger that you don't want him to take off your clothes because you're remembering why you don't do hookups and are suddenly feeling too insecure to want to sleep with him is a good idea. But there's something about the way his eyes are filled with so much concern, instead of the frustration you expected, that makes you want to spill every single secret you have out to him. 

"I'm... um..." you hesitate, and he leans back enough for you to crawl out from beneath him, hugging your knees to your chest as you do every self secluding human trait there is. From your eyes fixating on your bedding, to your fingers interlacing and fidgeting with each other. 

He doesn't rush you to talk. 

"I just... don't think I can do hookups. With strangers," you sigh, defeated. "I'm sorry I made you come all the way here for—well, nothing."

He's still silent, and it's your eyes lifting to try and read his expression that triggers him into a response. 

"We don't have to have sex for me to enjoy your presence," he replies. "I enjoyed talking to you."

"Yeah, but—" you force air through your nose to stop yourself from scaring him off with a verbal rant "—you don't know me. Not really. You came home with me with the intent of sleeping with me. And now I'm telling you we can't do that, so you can go."

His eyes burn against your skin as he studies you. "Do you want me to leave?"

The answer should be yes. You don't know this man, and he does not know you. Yet, there's a clawing need to ask him to stay. So you can get to know him, and him, you.

"No," you fidget with your fingers again. He chooses not to stop you. "I liked talking to you too."

"Great," he picks his feet up and crosses them on your bed. You hope your cringing at his shoes on your bedding isn't visible. "Can I ask why you don't do hookups?"

"So you can read my mind?" you quip, and his lips twitch into a smile as he huffs. 

"Let it go."

"You can't tell me your job is to read minds and expect me to let it go."

"My job is to use behavioural analysis to build the profile of a criminal," he replies. "Not to read minds."

"Sounds exactly like something a mind reader would say," you bite down on your bottom lip to stop the dumb grin from spreading across your face at the way he's looking at you. Unimpressed, but ultimately amused. 

"Well, this isn't me trying to read your mind. There's many reasons why someone might not want to have sex. I want to know yours, so I know how to approach the topic in the future."

Your breathing stops, but you force yourself not to focus on the implications of his words. Excitement for a man you met that night was never wise. He could ghost you come tomorrow morning, you remind yourself. 

"It's kind of heavy," you say, lifting your gaze to look at him through cautious eyes. 

"I can do heavy."

You purse your lips. "I don't know," you stretch your legs out in front of him. He takes them and sets them in his lap, and your heart flutters. "I don't like the idea of someone I don't know seeing me naked."

Hands ghost over your skin. "Why?"

Your head lowers to your fidgeting hands. "I'm just not happy with how I look, I guess? If somebody doesn't know me for my personality, they don't have anything to stick around for if they see me the way I see myself. Not to say I have a stellar personality. But I'd like to have at least one redeeming quality. Because... my body... isn't..." your voice is small by the time you finish, and you're skeptical as you face your fears to stare up at him once more. 

He visibly swallows, and you regret every word that had just left your mouth within seconds. So much for the whole not scaring him off thing.

"You don't have to say anything," you break the silence that only lasted a few seconds, anyways. "It's a weird personal thing. I'm fine with having sex with partners. Obviously. It's just strangers."

"I think," he pauses, and his hands stop their stroking on your legs as he strings together his words. "I think you're with people that are too shallow if they don't still want you after seeing your body."

"Well—um, nobody's actually ghosted me after sleeping with me..."

And now you feel dumb. Admitting to having an insecurity that's entirely baseless is dumb. He's probably turning over the very thought that you're dumb inside his head, and formulating a plan to get out of here, and—

"I get it," he surprises you instead. "But in the opposite way. My personality isn't for everyone. Or anyone, is a better way to put it."

"I like your personality," you tilt your head to the side.

He smiles weakly at your attempt of reassurance. "You've known me for one night. And you were drunk for most of it."

"So I'm not allowed to like your personality?" you challenge. "Isn't there something about not needing much time to know whether or not you like someone?"

"Sort of. We can determine a few things about people within those first few seconds, but they aren't set in stone forever. What you like now, might become annoying in a few months time," he says. 

"I don't think I'll find you annoying in a few months time," you murmur.

"And I don't think I'll dislike your body. But you won't believe me, and I won't believe you," he counters. "Make sense?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Is this some weird mind reading thing to manipulate me into sleeping with you?"

"No, because I can't read minds," he shoots you a look, "and I also don't care about having sex with you tonight. I can wait."

He can wait. You hope you don't look stupid smiling at the concept of him waiting for you, implying he will be here for more than just one night. 

"I think a psyche evaluation for a first date is kind of insane," you say.

"I can make it up to you?" he offers, and you stare with keen interest. "We can go get coffee. Or something. I won't analyse your behaviour during it."

"That doesn't close off the possibility of you reading my mind, though."

"What would I find?" he then asks, throwing you off balance. 

"If you read my mind?" he nods at your question. "Um... a lot of insecurities, I think. My friends. Song lyrics. My favourite colour... what would I find in yours?"

"A lot," his hands drag along your shins. "I don't even know where to begin."

"It's the high as fuck IQ," you shake your head, dismissively; jokingly. "I hate it. Stop thinking."

"I do with you, I think. Well, I haven't really thought about much else other than you. Which isn't common. I can usually split my attention well."

"Is it because you can't split it, or don't want to?" you ask him.

"Both. I'm quite content just listening to and thinking about you."

You duck your head as a smile paints your lips. "Welcome to normal brains."

"Thank you. I don't mind them."

"Give it a few weeks."

His shoulders shake as he laughs, and you think the sight is wonderful, and you're easing back up post anxiety. You have to applaud him for doing it so quickly, and so well.

Laughter and the positive tension between you two dies down, and you're left looking at him with fond eyes and the same stupid smile on your face. All while he's staring back at you, and you're sure you can see his attention fail to stay on your eyes, for his gaze keeps dropping to your lips.

"I haven't thought about much but you, too," you say. 

He kisses you.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[sigweiner]

⌁₊˚ Shiver ˚₊⌁ {P2}

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!/Gnc!/Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You seek advice with an acquaintance before 'reconciling' with Jinx on Silco's office desk. Bonus fluff with Isha in the end.

Warnings!: fluff, smut, swearing, angst, t06!c relationship, substance use, mentions of dark ses and physical stuff.

a/n: I'm working on part 3 and 4 bc I had so much fun writing this. Also, I appreciate everyone that interacts with my posts ♡. English is not my first language, sorry for the weird punctuation and sentences. Minors and creeps dni.

{P1} {P3}

You haven't shown up at the hideout in a week. You've been staying at different places every day since that night as to prevent Jinx from tracking you down, even though you didn't believe she would try to since you were a major jerk to her after what was probably her first time with someone ever. You’ve been punishing yourself for that too even though you weren’t entirely sure you were her first. You’ve been drinking yourself to sleep every night since then. The irony in this whole situation is that that party was supposed to cheer you up and bring you out of gloomsville but it only managed to sink you further into a dark hole.

Maybe you should apologize and try to understand what really happened, but you’re pretty sure she’ll try to blow your head off after psychologically torturing you but at the same time you can’t keep up like this, it’s exhausting. So you think of the only person you know with a semblance of knowledge and that you can go fish for advice. Getting up from the dirty floor you slept on, you throw on your hooded cloak to go meet her and start to move through the shadows of the dirty zaunite streets without being noticed by anybody until you reach an alley where three people are sitting around a wooden crate, drinking, smoking and playing cards.

Sevika has a cigarette in her mouth and grins wickedly at the hand she’s been dealt. You try to figure out a way to alert her of your presence but in no time she’s throwing cards on the table and collecting her winnings for the night. She doesn't linger so you follow her around the maze of streets and alleyways. She keeps looking back, checking if anybody is following her, her instincts probably warning her that someone actually is. She stops to light another cigar and rests her back on a nearby wall so you take the opportunity to come out of the shadows, appearing in front of her.

“Damn, you look like death itself.” She says with a raised eyebrow. “Came to finish the job after all?” But there’s no real concern to her voice.

“Can we um… talk?” You ask, uncertain about how you’re going to bring this about with Sevika, of all people.

“Talk? You sure you’re not confusing me with someone else?” She lets out a dark chuckle and you roll your eyes at her reaction, she wasn’t about to make this easy for you.

“Yeah… have you uh… seen Jinx lately?” You hate how insecure you sound, being this vulnerable is making you want to give up and bolt.

“Jinx huh? Aren’t you two practically glued to each other?” She asks with an amused smirk on her face.

“We had a fight. No, actually I fucked up…” You say looking down at the floor. Sevika lets out a laugh.

“Well that’s not unheard of coming from you.” She teases. You sigh heavily and shake your head but you kind of deserve it. “She’s been looking for you, y’know?” Sevika says seriously now. You look up at her surprised to hear this piece of information.

“Really? Is she still mad? Do you think I should go back to the hideout?” You blurt out, hope growing in your chest.

“Slow down kid. Listen, I'm not gonna tell you what to do. Especially because I don't give a damn about your little lovers quarrel.” She starts explaining her line of thought before taking a break to puff out her cigar. “What I'm going to tell you is this: that crazy girl is obsessed with you and that kid. She's been nagging me about helping her find you this entire week. Which I don't appreciate one bit. So for the sake of my sanity and both of your safety, you should go and take care of this.” She finishes with an annoyed look but you appreciate her words greatly.

“We're not lov-” You star to retort but she gives you a death glare which makes you halt. “Okay fine, I’ll take care of it.” You tell her earnestly.

“Good.” She pushes herself off of the wall and throws the remains of her cigar on the floor. “Now fuck off, Shiv.” That's the first time you ever hear her call you by your alias which brings you a sense of respect. You chuckle, starting to disappear in the shadows.

“Thanks, Sevika.” Your disembodied voice reverberates through the empty alley.

“Tsk, creepy kid.” Is the last thing you hear her say from a distance before you turn around the next corner.

The familiar feeling of fear burns inside your chest when you reach Jinx’s hideout but you find it eerily quiet and still. There's no sign of the blue haired girl but you spot Isha snoozing peacefully on the orange couch. You approach her silently to move some hair off her face and kiss her forehead gently. She stirs a bit but doesn't wake up and you take a moment to just admire her easy slumber.

You're glad at least little Isha is safe and unbothered by this whole ordeal between you and Jinx, although you did cause more instability by leaving unexpectedly. She is the better part between the three of you and not being around her just made everything worse. You wonder if she even missed you because you’ve definitely missed hanging out with her. Before you leave, you cover her little figure with a blanket so she doesn't get cold.

You rack your brain for places where Jinx might be. You check the nearby bathroom and the next door building's roof where you very probably took her virtue, but there was no sign of her. You try not to think of that night, her soft lips, the way she felt around your fingers or your stupid harsh words, but it was all still very vivid in your head.

You wish you could go back in time and do everything differently but there's no point in dwelling on that, you need to find her. So the next place you can think of is Silco’s old office, Jinx had dragged you there before to retrieve something from her secret stash when you were still her prisoner, so you try to remember how to get there.

You move as fast as you can through the shadows but nights at Zaun were very much busy and filled with people, which makes you take longer than necessary just to avoid anyone. You finally manage to reach the abandoned office but you stop outside the door when you hear her speaking softly, then angrily, seemingly trying to process a lot of different emotions.

You take a deep breath before quietly stepping in, careful not to make any noise and alert her to your presence, so you wait for the right opportunity. From where you're standing you can see pow-pow holstered on her hip and that she's wearing different clothes. Striped purple pants and a black crop top, which are certainly new. You wonder what happened to her old clothes.

When you step into the light after she finally gets quiet, she sees your reflection on the big round window in front of her. A bullet misses you by inches, leaving a cut on your cheek that draws some blood. You don't react, shit if she wants to shoot you right through your chest you would let her, that's how much you believe you need punishment for what you did. Jinx lets out an angry grunt and uses her superspeed to come halfway close to you when she suddenly stops to scream at the voices to shut up.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” She screams at you now. “You're MINE Shiv! Don't you fucking get it?! Why did you leave me?!” Her voice cracks in the end and she starts crying, body shaking as she starts to sob uncontrollably. You chance a step towards her but she shoots by your feet making you freeze again.

“I-I know, I fucked up big time, Jinx.” You tell her desperately, tears also running down your face. “Please forgive me. I'll do anything you want. I'll never run again, fuck you can lock me up in a cage again if you want, but please… I'm so sorry.” You beg, reaching a hand forward from where you're standing several feet away from her. She grabs the sides of her head and shakes it, trying to shut down the voices.

“You're sorry? How fucking dare you toy with my feelings like that?! I gave myself to you completely and you treat me like I'm some... animal you can chase away when you're done playing with it… you made me feel so good… called me princess and then treated me like I'm some just street trash…” She rants between sobs and your heart shatters in a million pieces.

“I know, I-I was a total asshole loser. I didn't know you had these feelings… I didn't know you were a… that that might have been your first… everything really. I mean, was it?” You need to know, damn if it’s true you would’ve done everything differently. She huffs angrily and turns away from you, hugging her middle as if trying to close herself from you.

“Does it matter now? You can’t change what happened.” She says with a shaky voice and zaps back to sit on the wooden desk, propping a foot on the swivel chair that once belonged to her father. Her shoulders are still shaking from crying but at least she’s not screaming anymore.

“I guess it doesn’t. But I wish I could’ve done things differently. If I had known about your feelings… I guess I shouldn’t have been so stubborn and ignored my own.” You slowly start to move closer to her when she puts her gun aside.

“Try asking next time.” She says, seeming exhausted. You manage to round the desk and stand in front of her. She glances at you, makeup all smeared underneath her eyes, and looks away. You want to reach out so badly and hold her in your arms, but you don’t want to trigger her any further.

“Okay, then. Do you… like me, Jinx? As more than friends or whatever we have going on, I mean.” You question her honestly. Your face burns furiously though, being this forward feels foreign to you.

“Yes dummy, I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” She finally looks at you and chuckles at your reaction. You’re completely dumbfounded, the look of shock on your face practically comical. What does she mean she’s in love with you? Your brain is trying hard to add two plus two but it takes you a minute.

“You - you’re in love with me?” You ask incredulously. Jinx nods timidly, her cheeks starting to blush a deep pink. “I uh… wow. I really wasn’t expecting that but... if I’m being honest with myself… I think I’ve been in love with you for a while too.” You manage to say before bursting into tears. Jinx reaches out an arm to you and you take her hand. She pulls you towards her, snuggling you between her legs and you practically melt into her, burying your face on her neck as she embraces you.

“Oh my silly Trinket.” She purrs against your hair. She moves a hand to cradle the back of your head while the other rubs circles on your back. You’re both still crying, the weight of all that was said and done falling upon you.

“I should- should be the one comforting you.” You say between sobs. “I’m so sorry, Jinx. I’ll never hurt you ever again.” You promise her, lifting up your head to look her in the eyes. She gives you a teary smile and caresses your cheek, making you lean into her touch.

“You better not.” She says, chuckling. “I don’t think I can survive another one of these.” She gestures between you two. You laugh timidly, wiping under your nose when she leans in to kiss your cheek, the one cut by her bullet. Your eyes flutter from feeling the softness of her lips on your skin and you instinctively rest your hands on her waist.

Jinx wipes your tears and blood gently and pulls you in for a tight hug, snaking her legs around your waist and laying her head on your chest, close to your fluttering heart. You cup the back of her neck to caress it lightly, goosebumps rising to the brush of your fingers. She lets out a heavy sigh and tightens her grip on you. You swear you could stay like this forever, having the heat of her body warm up your soul. And to think you almost gave this up because you couldn't let yourself be vulnerable.

“My chaos princess, I'm so lucky to be yours.” You say against the top of her head. She looks up at you with doey eyes before leaning in to kiss your lips. You sigh into the kiss and cup her face with shaky hands. Gods, how you missed the taste of her so you graze your tongue on her bottom lip seeking entrance and she lets you deepen the kiss.

Your tongues dance languidly against one another very unlike the first time you two kissed, no desperation or urgent desire motivating your actions, just simply wanting to memorize every stroke and every breath and every shiver elicited. You can't help but let out a moan when her hands run up your back, breaking the kiss. She takes the opportunity to kiss a path down your neck, dragging her teeth on the tender skin of your pulse point. You let out a quiet ‘fuck’ when she starts suckling a hickey on the curve between your neck and shoulder. Although you definitely don't mind being marked by her, you pull gently on one of her braids making her move away from your neck so you can kiss her senseless.

Jinx is utterly pliant to your desires and lets you guide her wherever you want, you don't quite remember her ever being this willing to let go of any control except for that fateful night you had her writhing underneath you. In no time your hands start to wander, desperate for a reminder of what her thighs feel like. They're still firm like you remember but only now there was too much clothing covering them. She tries to pull you closer, tightening the grip of her legs around your hips. You smile against her lips before grinding against her crotch, making her let out a delicious moan.

“Getting a little excited aren't we?” You say close to her ear. She whines, seemingly frustrated that you're talking and not kissing her.

“You haven't earned teasing privileges yet, Trinket.” She says with a cute pout on her face. “Now, why don't you make it up to me by making me feel real good, huh?” She says planting that damn attractive smirk on her face.

“Anything for you princess.” You mirror her expression before connecting your lips in a soaring kiss. She hums in approval then lets you explore her mouth with your soft tongue. You take this opportunity to run your hands up her stomach and towards her chest.

“I like these new clothes by the way.” You digress, running your index fingers through her side boobs. “Though I prefer you in way less clothing.” You lick her lips playfully and she chases after your mouth.

“Yeah, I've noticed.” She loops a finger through the hoop on your choker to pull you close to her mouth. “I’ve caught up staring before. Several times.” She whispers and you can't help but feel a little embarrassed by that.

“Fuck, was I that obvious?” You feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment. The blue haired girl kisses your face sweetly.

“Yeah, but lucky for you I was really into it.” She giggles before closing the gap between you. You grind against her again before pulling up her top, exposing her chest to your hungry fingers. She whimpers when you pinch at her pierced nipple and tries to seek more friction on her core with her lower body, making your own arousal pool inside your pants.

You part from her mouth to whisper a suggestion in her ear. “I want to try something, will you let me?” She nods her head positively so you kiss the skin behind her year before looking her in the eyes. “I want to taste you, princess.” You say watching her reaction. Her eyes grow wide and her face turns red but she gives you a quiet okay.

“We don't have to if you don't want to.” You reassure her but she shakes her head furiously before grabbing onto your chest harness with shaky hands.

“No, please I- I want to.” She says timidly but plants a soft kiss on your lips. You hold her face with one hand.

“Okay, but just so you know, we can stop anytime you want, yeah?” You want to make sure she feels comfortable every step of the way. She nods again and it's your turn to kiss her tenderly.

You start to venerate her body by kissing down her neck, leaving a couple of bruises on her throat before showering her chest with attention. You loved on her small perky breasts, licking and biting her hardened nipples until she was a panting mess. Then you move to her stomach and her waist covered with the cloud tattoo you loved so much, not missing the opportunity to leave a few markings next to the line of her pants. You chance a glance up at her and you're met with a sight you wish you never forget. She has a frown between her eyebrows, her cheeks are flushed red and her lips are swollen from your kisses.

You untangle her legs from around you then lower yourself on your knees before hooking your fingers on the hem of her pants. “You okay over there?” You ask with an innocent smile. She lets out a frustrated whine.

“Fuck Y/N, please just take them off already.” She says impatiently. You chuckle but obey anyway, pulling down the offending clothes down her legs, boots going with it in the process.

You kiss her left feet and up her leg before reaching the inside of her thighs. Jinx is already trembling when you spread her legs further, entirely exposing her to you. Your mouth waters at what you find, her wetness already running down her inner thigh, engorged clit pulsating with want and outer lips are puffy from all the blood concentrated on her core. You snake your arms around her thighs and you pull her closer to the edge of the desk. She has a death grip on it, knuckles turning pale already.

“Can you hold my hair up for me, princess?” You ask politely, laying a kiss on her pubic mound. She complies and you feel her grip tighten when you lick a firm path through her pussy.

“Hoooly fuck.” She says, rolling her eyes inside her skull and dropping her head back. You smile at her reaction and continue slowly lapping at her with a firm tongue.

“You're so hot.” You tell her when you take a break to part her folds with two fingers.

“You should see yourself.” She replies, running her thumb through your jaw till it reaches your lips.

You open your mouth to expose your tongue to her, making her slide her finger on it. You smirk before wrapping your lips around it and start sucking and moving your head back and forth to cover the whole length of it with your saliva. She just looks at you, hypnotised. You take her hand, releasing her thumb with a pop, then guide it towards her own chest, smearing your saliva on her pierced nipple. “Shit, I'm gonna lose the rest of my sanity if you keep up like this.” She tells you in awe, pupils completely blown with desire.

“I definitely don't mind.” You chuckle before returning your attention to her dripping center. You massage her clit between your digits before pulling up its hood and wrapping your lips around it to give it gentle sucks. Above you, Jinx lets out an obscene moan that reverberates through your own body, making you moan against her as well.

“Oh fuck, I'm gonna - fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't hold-” She mumbles incoherently, unintentionally pulling on your hair so tight you let out a whimper against her. You let go of her protruding bud before she reaches her peak, making her protest with an impatient whine and she tries to force you back where she needs you by pushing your head forward but you diverge your face towards her inner thigh, biting down at it. She lets out a cry that sounds more like a moan so you soothe the bruise with your tongue.

“Be patient, princess.” You tell her before flicking your tongue lightly on her clit. She squirms and tries to close her legs involuntarily.

“Hah that tickles.” The feather-like sensation making her finicky.

“Humm. Do you prefer it more like this?” You apply more pressure when you lick her this time and you see her eyes flutter at the sensation.

“Yeeah, that's better. Just like that.” She drops her head back once more, mouth agape but still managing to hold your hair away from your face with one hand.

She's a true vision from where you are kneeling between her legs and you realise how close you already feel to your own orgasm just by pleasuring her. So when you tease two fingers on her entrance you decide to slide your free hand inside your pants to take care of yourself. Jinx looks back at you starved when your digits reach the back of her wall and you notice she's fighting hard not to close her eyes so she can watch you satisfy yourself while you fuck her. You finally give her throbbing bud the attention it deserves by sucking hard on it.

It only takes a few pumps of your fingers inside her until she's reaching her orgasm, shaking so hard around your head you need to reach over to steady her. You help her ride her high but you've got no intention to slow down and stop. On the contrary, you fuck her harder and graze your teeth on her clit a few times, teasing it. She gasps and looks at you surprised but doesn't try to stop you. You catch her clit between your lips again when you return your hand to your center.

You want to make you both come together and it so happens when Jinx lets out a long moan and squirts all over your mouth and down your throat. Your eyes roll backwards at your own pleasure coating your hand with your ecstasy. You two moan in unison as you ride your fervor for a little longer before you release her clit and slowly remove your fingers from inside her. She collapses back on the desk, chest heaving, and you also try to steady your breathing.

“You okay over there, Jinxie?” You ask after a minute, worried you might have broken her.

“Better than okay.” She slurs her words, sounding drunk. You chuckle and try to get up but it seems your legs have turned to mush.

“Wanna give me a hand then?” You ask playfully. She sits up and looks down at you with amusement but as she takes in the state you're in, her eyes darken.

“Didn't expect you to be worse off than me.” She says half jokingly and offers you her hand. You reach to take it but before you can she grabs your wrist and starts cleaning your cum off of it. “Hmmm, as sweet as I dreamed you would be.” She says after finishing her handiwork. You feel like a deer caught in headlights.

She manages to lift you up to your feet and pulls you in for a passionate kiss, licking up all of her fluids from your face passionately. Her wandering hands find the swell of your ass and squeezes making you moan her name. You knew where this was going but you didn't know if you were ready yet for it to happen. Jinx starts kissing your jaw and down your throat when you hear someone entering the room suddenly.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sevika says in horror.

After having survived Sevika’s wrath in what you now know is her new office, you and Jinx return to the hideout separately so as not to attract attention to yourselves. When morning comes and Isha wakes up to the sight of you sleeping on a thin mattress next to the couch and Jinx hunched over her workstation, tinkering away at some random project, she lets out a confused sound. The kid sits up and removes the blanket from herself, wiping the sleep off of her eyes before crossing her arms on her chest with an angry look on her face.

As if sensing she is awake, you stir into consciousness and open one eye to chance a peek in her direction but your vision is still blurry from sleep so you lazily throw an arm in Isha’s direction only to feel your hand being swatted away. Oh boy, here we go again. You sigh deeply before sitting up as well and resting your forearm on the couch. Isha gestures to you that she's angry you left and that Jinx was really sad, completely out of control and even burned up her clothes while laughing maniacally at the flames.

“Burned her clothes?” You whisper back. The little kid nods positively and like a tough loving parent, she gestures and demands to know what happened. “I-I know, I screwed up big time. And um… I didn't think I deserved forgiveness, so I left.” You try to explain without getting into what actually happened.

She huffs and looks about as disappointed as you feel for having left her. “I'm sorry Isha. I shouldn't have left you and I couldn't stand being away from both of you so I came back. I'm not sure if Jinx has forgiven me entirely but if you can, that would mean the world to me.” A tear rolls down her cheek so you reach over to wipe it away and this time she doesn't reject you.

On the contrary, Isha lunges forward and throws her little arms around your neck, burying her face in your hair. You cradle her head and make soothing patterns on her back as she cries quietly, wishing you could take all her sadness away. “It's okay baby. I’m never leaving you again. I promise.” You reassure her.

There's suddenly a light weight hugging you both as Jinx decides to join in your little moment of reconciliation, probably having overheard what you said. “Yeah, I won't let it happen.” she says resolutely. You smile because even though the implications behind her words are very dark, your heart can't help but flutter at her pledge.

“I've forgiven you, y’know?” She whispers now into your ear. You turn to look at her with tears in your eyes as she backs away slightly. You want to kiss her so badly but at the same time you don't want Isha to feel weird about whatever you've got going on with Jinx.

However she is the one to take the first step and lean in to kiss your cheek. You don't understand how a simple act of affection can make your heart beat so fast and your face burn so hot when not long ago you were doing much more lewd things to her that elicited this same reaction. She smirks at your flustered expression but looks away when she realises Isha watched the whole scene unfold. The little girl looks between you two and mimics Jinx by planting a quick kiss on your other cheek.

“Hey! I'm not willing to share, kid.” Jinx protests but Isha only giggles and sneakily gives the blue haired girl's face a smooch before snaking her arms around both your necks to pull you into a group hug with a huge smile on her face.

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @cafekitsune.

[overadores]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ somewhere in italy ୨ৎ Sophia Laforteza

"You're the sun that's setting right behind the ocean"

"I hope it gets you thinkin' about me"

୨ৎ synopsis. When Sophia returns to her family’s summer home in Italy for the first time since she was ten, she’s determined to immerse herself in European culture while helping renovate the house. But when she steps into a quaint local bookstore, she meets a perceptive bookstore clerk who immediately clocks her as a tourist. What starts as a simple exchange—asking for recommendations on where to eat and what to see—quickly turns into something more. As they explore the city together, Sophia finds herself drawn not just to the charm of Italy, but to the person showing it to her. However, with her time in Europe limited and emotions growing deeper, she must decide whether this summer is just a fleeting adventure or the start of something real.

୨ৎ tags. fluff, crack, smau, little writing, strangers - friends - lovers, mention of substance and alcohol, homophobia, tiny bit of angst, profanities, non-celeb au, kys jokes, suggestive themes.

୨ৎ pairing. sophia laforteza x reader

୨ৎ guests. le sserafim ( huh yunjin ). enhypen ( shim jaeyun ). katseye. other celebs.

"The feeling that I felt for the first time, Have a good summer without me"

୨ৎ status. on-going

୨ৎ author's note. This is an original work of smau, and is written for entertainment purposes only. Any names or characters, businesses or events or incidents, are fictitious and for the lore the place is going to be in Italy and in between of 90s - 00s, but still has technology like the 21st century. The characters identity have no relation to the actual persons/portrayers— and are solely based on the author's imagination. Don't bother looking at the timestaps 'cause it's not that important unless stated and also the face claim would be random masc peepz at pinterest so ctto. remind you that I put a lot of effort into creating my own story, and any similarities are purely coincidental! taglist is also open.

୨ৎ in queue. love in portofino - dalida; magnets - niki; mia & sebastian's theme - justin hurwitz; home - michael buble; young and beautiful - lana del ray; une barque sur l'ocean - andre laplante; heavy - the marias; soft spot - keshi; everyone adores you (at least I do) - matt maltese; must be love - laufey

୨ৎ profiles mommy issues only again by fetty wap again by fetty wap 2.0

୨ৎ chapters

01. bentornato!

02. first meeting

03. colazione, qualcuno?

04. crashing out

05. what to wear?

06. first date

taglist: @fruityg0rl @wtfisthisnoclueman @goofymickeyr @falling-intoo-deep @itzkatflixs @spongebobtentacles @sibwol @sunshinez4 @leotapes @gtfoiydlyj @saysirhc @hydrardz

[identitty-dickruption]

Is there anything that you see when someone writes addiction/alcohol addiction specifically that really annoys you? As someone trying to write something related rn, having someone who actually knows about it's perspective is really useful :]. Obviously no pressure to answer! Have a nice day <3

oh absolutely yes. I've seen some truly shocking things of late. and also in general very happy to bitch about it for a bit

it may sound obvious but don't. like. blame the entirety of a person's addiction on a single factor or act like "if only they had access to x piece of information, they wouldn't be an addict!". in candy house by Jennifer Egan, one of the characters became an addict because of her dyslexia and her inability to find fictional characters who Truly Understood Her. don't do that.

try not to smooth them out into a singular dimensional person. or even a two dimensional person (where the two dimensions are addiction and trauma or whatever). an addict is a human being. weirdly difficult for people to conceptualise this

NOBODY gets withdrawal right. withdrawal is Not a couple shakes and then you're good. withdrawal can last weeks, if not months, depending on how dependent the person was on the substance and depending on what the substance is

similar to the above, if someone relapses while they're experiencing withdrawal, the withdrawal symptoms do not immediately disappear. if you're throwing your guts up you won't be magically fine the moment you get your substance in you. you will still feel incredibly shit for a good couple hours Minimum

implying that addiction is inherently irrational, or selfish, or stupid. addiction is a response to a set of circumstances that make sense to a person at the time. nobody becomes an addict for shits and giggles. there is always something else going on

likewise, the "high functioning alcoholic" trope has. problems. like I spent an entire year being tipsy non-stop while I was also doing alright in university and whatever. very definition of high-functioning alcoholism I guess. but I think those characters are done Poorly a lot of the time in that the nature of the interpersonal issues they have never feels Quite Right

"I got sober for love" shut the fuck up. "you saved me from myself" go away. "one real human relationship fixed my dependency on substances" no it did not. if love cured all ills, I would be the healthiest guy on the planet. it simply does not work that way <- falling in love makes it easier to love myself and have hope for the future but at the end of the day I'm still a traumatised bitch who struggles with shit

the entire concept of an intervention. addiction does not end with One Grand Event that will make everything better. forcing someone to go to rehab barely ever works. interventions are not one-off events, they are a series of kind and compassionate conversations that occur over a long period of time

sorry this ended up being a lot more than I thought it would. I think if you asked me again tomorrow I would have five to ten more things to bitch about. idk. people get the complexities of addiction wrong A Lot and I've read/seen more bad rep than good rep. but oh well. it's important to me that people are out there trying their best to do better! so thanks for asking

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 2

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

(Things get a bit angsty here for a bit, but don't worry, it gets back to some of the cracky-goodness!)

After allowing himself to relax for a bit and actually letting his muscles loosen for once, Jason rose from the bath and rinsed himself off under a piping hot and strong shower. He finished the rinse off with a flash of cold water to focus back up and made his way to the vanity where there was basic hotel amenities. He attempted to style his hair and after at least drying it, pulled on the fluffiest robe he has felt since he first moved into the manor all those years ago.

Fuck. The family. The Outlaws...

Jason put his face in both his hands and took a deep breath, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he dragged his hands from his face to his sides. He marched in a lazy manor over to the end of the large bed where he flopped face down. Surprisingly, it wasn't as fluffy as he was expecting and he silently thanked whatever force there was that he wouldn't have to resort to sleeping on the floor or a chair for the familiarity. Though, he turned his head to face the windows, that little reading nook looks like I could easily fall asleep there.

No, stop it. Do I remember the Dimensional Code for home?

Jason contemplated. On one hand, it could be useful, on the other, they could have an entirely different category system here. He spent the next however long trying to remember the dimensional code for his Earth and tracing the swirls of purples and greens out the large windows. A knock startled him.

"Jason? Are you decent?" He stood quickly and pulled the robe tighter together, not quite ready to show his autopsy scars to his soul-owner? A literal goddess? He wasn't quite sure what she was yet.

"Uh, yes, come in, I'm covered." He tried to stand casually next to the bed when he had just been sitting, his hands now in his pockets.

"Hi, so one of my aides figured one thing out about the ritual that is somewhat concerning and also something I probably also should have brought up. Mind if we sit at the window?" She strode in and settled herself with a pillow against the window and waited for him to do the same. Once he was settled, she hesitated for a moment before sighing and looking out the window to the haunting site outside.

"The Infinite Realms has another name, one coined from my Earth." She licked her lips before she spoke again. "It's also known as the Ghost Zone. As the dimension between dimensions, it is also where beings known as ghosts, the Restless Dead, Neverborn, Gods, and all sorts of other beings that thrive off a substance known as ectoplasm reside. As such, I am current Queen Regent of Ghosts." She let him think for a moment before turning to him. "That means I can tell when someone is death-touched." Jason froze. "I didn't mention it before because I know it's super personal, but then my aide figured out that the ritual only worked because of the fact you are and especially since you had spent time here-" She cut herself off as his eyes just bugged out larger with every word that spilled from her lips. "Sorry, I just, I'm death-touched too. I haven't died yet, but I have been around death magic, or radiation, or whatever it is, since before conception. I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know it was deeply traumatic. I can have my healers take a look at your soul and see if it's alright because it kinda radiates a bit how traumatic it was." She bit her lip with one hand raised near her chin.

Jason closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw tight and blowing the air harshly out his nose. He fell back against the window, allowing his head to knock against the glass. It was warm, as though the sunlight was gently shining upon it. "Yeah." He croaked. "Yeah, I died." He said softer. "I was dead for roughly six months." He dipped his head forward to block his face with his bangs. "Crawled outta my own grave." He laughed bitterly. "Spent a while wandering, a while more in a coma." He swallowed tickly. "Got picked up by my dad's vindictive ex and trained for a while to be an assassin." He looked up at her, making eye contact. "She dunked me in this pit of magic shit, we call it a Lazarus pit in my dimension. It cures those near death and kills the healthy. Fixed me up the rest of the way, or at least the scars and issues I had pre-death. I got to keep these." He allowed the top of the robe to fall away, showing the tops of the large y-shaped scar that ran the length of his torso. She gasped, both hands coming to cover her mouth, tears began to form in her eyes. She reached out as if to touch them and stopped herself, her face turning determined.

"I, Jazmine Nightingale, High Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms, the Mediator, the Caretaker, and all those other titles." She waved her wrist. "Declare that I will help you however you deem necessary. Whether that be helping your soul, returning you to your dimension, breaking this binding, or whatever. You are currently bound to you, and as such that makes you my responsibilities." She paused in her speech for a moment, thinking. "I mean, you're already technically one of my subjects because I think you qualify as one of the Restless Dead, but we'll figure out your classification when we take you to a healer. For now, it has been a long day. I will have one of my aides come to get your measurements for some clothes, I'm sure we have some around here somewhere that should fit you at least for dinner. The aides can get any style you like and it can be made quickly by the seamstresses we have on staff." At his hesitation she added with a smile, "They work in supernatural means, they will not overwork themselves by making an entire wardrobe in a few hours."

She patted the cushion in front of her and stood. "I will meet you at dinner, it's not formal at all, don't worry about dressing fancy, I'm just still in this getup from 'official queen stuff'" she said with air quotes looking tired. "I'll see you in a bit Jason!"

"Yes, um, your majesty." He stood to bow, the robe making it a bit difficult."

"Just Jazz please, for the love of the Ancients." She said with a pained look on her face.

"Right, sorry," he stammered, straightening, "See you later, Jazz." She smiled softly before leaving him to himself. He smacked his hand to his face groaning at himself before flopping face-first into the bed again. "She's the ruler of the dead and she's so determined and nice, what the actual hell? She's so earnest, it's so cute!" he sat up leaning his elbow on his knee. "Okay, operation Romance Plot is go. She isn't put off by the fact you died, this is good, I can work with this. Okay, so castle, let's go with that aesthetic. I'm thinking let's go with a poet shirt and some black slacks for dinner tonight." He claps his hands in front of him, decision made.

As if summoned by his words, there was another knock at the door. A man with bright sky blue skin and a deep plum butler's uniform opened the door, a measuring tape casually thrown over his shoulders.

"Yes, hello good sir. What aesthetic are we thinking for this evening?" he said in a posh accent.

Jason clasped his hands together. "What should I call you? Would you possibly have a poet's shirt and a pair of black formal slacks for this evening?"

"You may call me Jeeves. Yes that Jeeves. I am the personification of the trope of the helpful butler, and as such my power set includes anything and everything that could help me complete the duties of head butler of the High Family's home. We absolutely do have that attire on hand, it would be but a moment for someone to fetch it for us. Now did you have any ideas about future attire?" Jeeves snapped his fingers and a skeleton manifested in a swirl of dust to obey his silent command to gather the requested clothing.

Jason paused for a moment, considering. "How does the Queen usually dress casually around the castle? I know she said she was from an Earth. I don't know where in the timeline her Earth is from and she mentioned that what she was wearing earlier was mostly for special occasions, so I don't want to look like an idiot." He explained.

"Very good sir, she typically dresses in either a less formal toga if she's to be seen anywhere near the public areas of the castle, her armor whilst sparring with her knights, the High Princes and Princess, and if she is only going between her room and study then her far less formal Earth clothing which is a long sleeved blouse and lightwash jeans, typical of the late 1990's and early 2000's."

Jason thought for a moment. He didn't know how long he would be stuck here, but decided that clothes enough to last a fortnight should work. For all he knew, time flowed differently between here and his home dimension. Decision made, he told the butler what he wanted. Measurements were taken, the skeleton arrived with the requested clothes and Jason was left to change into his clothes for the evening. He still is wearing his combat boots because he forgot to ask for a pair of shoes.

Once changed, he realized that he still probably had a bit before dinner and he walked over to one of the bookshelves browsing the titles. There were several classics that he recognized, his favorite, Pride and Prejudice, was there. There were a few as well with Jane Austen's name, but not titles he recognized. He decided to come back to those later and pulled what looked like a collection of fairy tales from the shelf then settled himself lounging in the window nook to read for the next few hours.

[copdog1234]

Man, I was watching the movie and the entire time I was thinking "Wow. This would've been so much more satisfying in the show" because the show has earned it. The show's writing is far from perfect, it has many, many flaws, but my god is it far better than Miraculous Awakening will ever be. And I'll tell you why.

I will preface by saying, yes, an hour and a half movie has way less time than a TV show with several episodes to build up characters and relationships, so time constraints will make it so we may not get as much depth in the on-screen relationships.

You know what, though? The time they spent playing mediocre songs could've been used better to show us all the things the songs had to outright tell us. Cause that was the problem.

The movie sure liked telling us how the characters were feeling. It rarely showed it. Like could you tell me why movie Marinette liked Adrien? Because I couldn't. What did he do to earn her affection beside look pretty? Why did we only get a montage of them getting closer instead of actually seeing it? Or how we never really see much of Gabriel and Adrien's struggles with the loss of Emilie, we simply get glimpses. How am I supposed to feel anything when Gabriel stops being Hawk Moth when this movie showed us literally nothing of their strained relationship? And then there's Gabriel's claim that he did absolutely everything to get Emilie back. No he didn't. He did actually nothing. He freed a couple of criminals and then akumatized himself. That's it. That's all he did.

Could you tell me why Alya decided to befriend Marinette? Could you tell me why Adrien "who decided not to get close to anyone" was friends with Nino? Could you tell me why Chloe was so confident Adrien had any interest in her when they never actually interacted?

And then there wasnt enough explanation on how anything that we should've been told worked. Could anyone really tell me how these versions of the miraculous work? Or why Master Fu was in possession of them? Or why they really chose their holders? Could you tell me if the kwami had much personality and were necessary?

Like, I will say, there were funny moments, the animation was nice, and there were cool set pieces, but where was the substance?? It was nonexistent. If you don't watch the show, would you know or feel anything for what was going on in this movie?

Cause even for me, who does watch the show, I didn't.

Think about this. The show has even faked out multiple reveals to me and every time I was hyped and screaming, I have read fanfiction of these same to characters falling in love and confessing every which way and I've swooned, but we get reveals and love confessions that are real and permanent in this movie and I felt. Nothing.

It's okay if yall disagree with me, but I just needed to get this off my chest. I'm hard on this movie because I wanted it to be good because I love the characters and story from the show.

[afurtivecake]

ok I'm going to have to defend Abby here. I know there is an argument that Abby should have known better than to say something like "My Foxes fight back," to Jean, a victim of recent brutality. It definitely comes across as tactless from Jean's POV and you would expect the nurse of a team of traumatized students to know what to say. But I don't think Abby actually knows what to say in these situations - and I don't think it's her fault.

This line from Wymack's bonus chapter suggests that Abby really doesn't have the same sort of background as Wymack and their players:

"David had sworn years ago not to interfere with his kids' fixes so long as they didn't get caught or end up hospitalized. It had led to more fights than he could count between him and Abby in the early days. She'd given in eventually, though she'd probably never forgive him for taking such a stance when he should be setting a better example. Maybe she was right, or maybe she didn't have enough nightmares to understand."

While Abby has agreed to back Wymack up on the issue of allowing players to take drugs, Wymack still believes that Abby privately disagrees. Wymack insists upon it because of his personal experiences in life and guesses that Abby doesn't have those same experiences to understand why he insists upon it.

It's easy to forget because of the POV the story is in, but Abby's reaction is the "normal" one. Most people do not support giving students alcohol and see it as their responsibility to stop students from taking drugs if they find out about it. Wymack only takes the harm reduction approach (i.e. allowing/giving recovering addicts the substance they are addicted to safely, instead of forcing them to be cut off immediately. A divisive approach, even nowadays.) because of his own experiences, not because he has formal training in addictions counselling/treatment. All Abby is doing, is sticking with what she knows and believes will help these young people.

Abby is very "by-the-book" in comparison to Wymack or even Betsy. She argues against taking Andrew off his medication and putting him in rehab immediately because she believes it goes against the recommended procedure of these situations. She argues against it out of genuine concern for Andrew, because she believes going against the recommended procedures will do him more harm than good.

It makes me think back to Abby's interactions with Neil back in AFTG, where Abby says, "Sometimes I think this job is going to kill me, seeing what people have done, what people continue to do, to my Foxes," right after Neil's been through hell at Evermore. This always rubbed me the wrong way because Neil's just been put through the wringer and all Abby can talk about it how much it's affecting her? She can give up this job at any time and walk away but Neil can't just walk away from being in his situation. But this is a really common sentiment among people who work with vulnerable populations. It's called "vicarious trauma" and it can happen when working with and empathizing with survivors of trauma. It can lead to lingering feelings of anger, sadness, guilt and burnout. Those feelings are no more Abby's fault that the feelings experienced in response to direct trauma.

The way I read it, Abby isn't trying to blame Jean or shame him for his victimhood. What Abby sees is a kid who acts like he's already given up on life, a kid who doesn't want others' kindness. It's not an unreasonable assumption to make; even Kevin and Neil have said that Jean "isn't a fighter." My interpretation is that Abby's "My Foxes fight back," is her attempt at copying Wymack's gruff support. I think she's hoping that a direct challenge will spark pride or defiance, or at least enough anger, to stop Jean from giving up. She's seen Wymack and Neil strong-arm Kevin into being brave all year, and I think she thought that that's what Jean needed to hear too. After all, it really seems to work when Wymack does it. But the difference between her and Wymack is that Wymack's understanding of what their players need comes from personal experience. He knows when the right time to say certain things are. Andrew tells Neil first thing, "Coach always knows what to say." And that's not because Wymack is a better person than Abby; it's just because Wymack knows from experience what they need to hear.

It's not Abby's fault that she doesn't understand them the way that Wymack does and that she can't help them the way that Wymack can. She doesn't have Wymack's lived experience. What's she's been doing this entire time is trying to understand what these kids need and trying to do the best she can for them with what she knows. She genuinely cares and she's trying, but she's making all the mistakes a normal person would make. And that's perfectly realistic and fine! It doesn't mean she doesn't care about the students she works with. It doesn't make her a horrible person. It just means that she's just kind of painfully normal. In fact, her painfully normal responses have helped too. Like when she hugs Neil and though Neil's not used to hugs (like, at all), it's new and comforting and something only she would have and could have given him at the time. And yes, she's going to fuck up from time to time and not be able to give people what they need, but that's part of caring for anyone.

[chrystabelleblaumferge]

Imma say it

I hate Booktok and everything it represents (glorification of anti-intellectualism and overconsumption) so by extension I despise ACOTAR but the anti-SJM fandom, particularly the anti-Rhysand, anti-Feyre and anti-Feysand peeps are some of the most intelligent people who have come out of the fandom from a book series I genuinely loathe.

I find it ironic yet charming that the anti side of this fandom is actually filled with brilliant and bright minds as opposed to the "pro" side of that fandom who speak and act like they've been programmed by a cult to repeat the same type of opinions like a broken record. The people accused of being "vile and hateful" happened to be some of the best human beings I've ever interacted with and are willing to listen to dissenting opinions and debate in a civil manner.

In contrast, the "pro" side of the fandom who love everything these books represent are generally some of the most unpleasant and vile people I've had the displeasure of encountering. I was already uninterested in the series but was peer pressured by an insane fangirl of this series to read it expecting me to love "the twist" and the same characters she does (*cough* Feysand *coughs*). I cut her off for being a generally horrid person over a damn book all because I dared to speak my mind (she threatened physical violence over my honest critique).

I'm a general fantasy reader (think JRR Tolkien, George RR Martin, Brandon Sanderson et al.) and do not like romance books therefore dislike romantasy in general since I am not the target audience for these books. I only "read", by that I meant pirating these books to form my opinion on them, will never buy them since they're rubbish and not worth my money (plus I hate the author for being a shit human being and would never give her my money). It was bleh and I found it painful to read since I've read fanfiction that was written more eloquently than this SJM-produced slop. I always hated bad boys even as a teenage girl and that sentiment still remains as an adult. So imagine how I physically cringed when the love interests were switched.

Getting back on topic to the "pro-side", they were genuinely hateful despite their incessant preaching about "love conquers all" and on multiple occasions loved telling me I should die (classy...) for voicing my honest critique that I didn't like it. What's more, is that the common sentiment of the "pro-side" was to coerce and brainwash me into liking 'le main characters' and how I had 'internalised misogyny' for not liking something I only consider as fairy porn with no substance to keep me engaged lmao

The best part is that I'm not even a shipper of their rival ship Feylin, Tamlin, or Nesta. I am ambivalent towards them at best but I started sympathising with them given that the story made me hate the main characters and their 'Inner Circlejerk of Bougie Faerie Arseholes' that love wanking their 'Dear Dictator Leader: Ricespam' (I'll never spell his name correctly since I hate rapists like him). It also helps that the fans of these 'antagonist characters' are genuinely nice and pleasant people. I'm almost tempted to so say I love Tamlin/Nesta just to rustle the Feysand cultists' jimmies lol

It seems like they only use "feminism" when it's on their side. Not bothering to accept contrasting viewpoints from women such as myself who do not like a book and are within our rights to do so. What's even surprising is that the pro-fandom is overwhelmingly like this. They'd bully you into submission if you don't kowtow to their demands. Having been bullied in my childhood, I can absolutely recognise the same pattern of abuse that I've been inflicted on in the past. Therefore, this produced the inverse effect than the one they had anticipated. I started hating their self-insert Feyre and Ricespam even more. If they weren't so toxic, I would have just remained a general hater but them acting like Jehovah's Witnesses over a shitty book definitely made me spiteful.

All I can say is: I'll never be a fan of these books nor part of the fandom because I consider it mid. But I do enjoy the thoughtful criticism the antis of said fandom provide and will likely continue hating the pro-side of the fandom for being hateful bigots (especially the Feysand shippers, never met a nice one. Not even once).

[hana-no-seiiki]

I saw that you need ideas, so how about a yandere from the Neons? I mean, I would like to see more content from them since they represent the elements in Honkai star rail, by the way, sorry if you don't understand, my English is bad... I leave you a little drawing of a masculine makima (it has nothing to do with it, but as a gift ) xd Also, I don't know if I'm the only one, but Nanook makes me handsome >///<

(Sorry, I had already finished it but the work was stained hahaha and I did it again)

Yus the Aeons are so cool looking!! You really feel like they’re actual gods of the universe, especially since you don’t see them first hand (at least for now). Also Masculine Makima reminds me of Karma Akabane lol. I’ll draw it in my style, and add it here as an extra for you ♥️

Hb we mash those two topics up together actually?

warnings: mild yandere themes. mild spoilers for csm. major canon divergence. reader takes the shape of a masc/amab character but it isnt their original form.

status: unedited. updated art.

YANDERE! AEONS + VARIOUS! HSR x AEON OF FEAR/CONTROL! READER

You have no memory of your conception, only that you started existing for what felt like an eternity.

You represented fear and despair, but unlike IX whose mere presence drove humanity into insanity, or the rest of your fellow aeon’s godlike status amongst the world,

you walked around as a normal, ordinary human being.

As normal as an Aeon can get anyways.

In your current lifetime, you took the shape of Himeko’s “brother”, planting fake memories into her mind and being the one that urged her to travel the stars. While she was the navigator, you took the role of conductor before creating Pompom to supplant you.

Welt always knew you weren’t just a regular person. Your eyes always felt distant, so far off that not even a century’s worth of trail blazing would allow him to come close. As such he mostly kept cordial relations with you.

The youngsters of the bunch on the other hand, never seemed to realize the sheer magnanimity of the danger you held and always hung around you.

Particularly that Caelus. The newest addition to the crew. The stellaron within him always pulsed in some sort of giddiness and excitement whenever you were around. The boy couldn’t help but be a nervous wreck when he was around you. Stuttering and stumbling was a common occurrence whenever you so decide as to just breathe at his direction.

You knew what those Stellarons are, their nature, their purpose, the way they were created. In fact if you wanted to, you could have taken the Astral Express straight to the source of it all, your partner: Nanook.

However that would have ruined the fun of it all. So you chose to let them have their little adventures before the final confrontation.

Also because you signed a contract to not meddle with Nanook’s business in exchange for your freedom. But that was another story to tell.

“Why . . . why do you continue this farce? This utterly worthless play?”

IX’s voice rang within your ears and no one else’s. You were the only being it ever gave the time of day to. You imagine it to be the reason why insanity slowly built itself within the recesses of your head.

“You may see the entire universe as worthless . . . but I,” You breath hitched. You looked around your room. Time was frozen. Everything turned grey. You weren’t afraid of the others in the express hearing you, just that the following words you were about to spout out felt like bile on your mouth. “I suppose I’m still a bit like them in a way. I wish to see the world without its evils.”

“And destroying them. That is my first step.” You summon an orb of golden light. Stellarons. The creation of the very thing that made you loath all evil. Including yourself. You will eradicate these and then Nanook yourself. One day.

“Is that why you send those hunters out?”

“Perhaps.” The orb within your hands get covered in chains, quickly getting crushed within the metal like substance as it soon disappeared.

“Do as you wish. Just do not bother me like that imbecile.”

“I promise. I will be much worse than Yaoshi.”

IX remained silent for several seconds, no doubt regretting its decision of associating with you before adding, “. . . And do not die.”

“That one I cannot guarantee.”

Your room’s color returns, time continues. Signaling the end of two Aeons’ encounter.

Nanook, the Aeon that threatened to eradicate all that you love. All so they could have your soul once more. Within your gilded cage. Within your original body that lied dormant.

The Destruction will no longer be a path. That is a guarantee you write upon the stars when your Trail Blazing lifetime eventually comes to a close.

The stage is set, your actors ready.

All you needed was the cue.

Your gloved hand arose, pointing towards the express’s windows in the shape of a gun.

“Bang.”

[adripakoffee]

Hold on and let me yap about my goat Swansea rq (not rq, this is almost 2k words lol)

CW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, MOUTHWASHING SPOILERS

I'm gonna use "probably" and "most likely" a lot in this because so much of this game is from Jimmy's perspective and he dgaf about Swansea until close to the end.

Okay, so Swansea is first and foremost, a very tired, very ragged mechanic who's probably pushing 60. He doesn't want to be on that ship. He doesn't want anything. He wants, at least at first, to just be done with this job and get paid. He respects Curly but he's annoyed by and dismissive of everyone else on the ship, especially Daisuke.

So much of Swansea's character is reliant on and paralleled to his relationship with Daisuke. When he meets Daisuke, Daisuke is happy and optimistic. He looks forward to things and tries to impress Swansea when Swansea doesn't want help.

The main reason Swansea doesn't like Daisuke ties into his alcohol abuse. Daisuke is always, at almost every point we see him pre Anya locking herself in medical, happy and energetic. Swansea hates this about him because that's a state of being he hasn't achieved, in his own words, in 15 years. He can't imagine being that happy while sober and it pisses him off. He's half jealous because of that and half jealous because Daisuke is young and has a long life ahead of him. Swansea does not like the life he built for himself while sober, but that's for later. Especially after they get laid off, the only one who has anything ahead of them was Daisuke. Swansea would have trouble getting another job both because of his age and because a lot of things on Earth were being automated.

Of course, after the crash, that jealousy becomes something else. Because Daisuke is the only one who has anything ahead of them, he's the only one whose life matters. Swansea loves his family, but he doesn't really like them. He's most likely worked with Pony Express the longest, so he knows they most likely won't be saved. They have one chance left, one cryopod for one person. He's saving it for Daisuke because Daisuke is only one with a chance.

Now bringing up Anya. I think it was 2 months in when Anya told him about Jimmy. Here I'd like to correct some things I said in other posts. In my Anya rant I said "He has the one last working cryo pod set aside for her specifically and refuses to let anyone into the room where it is." He felt bad for her, no doubt, but he probably doesn't actually do that. He, more likely, tells her "Hey, there's actually a crypod left. I'm saving it for Daisuke. It's not like either of us have things waiting on the other side of this." Swansea isn't responsible for Anya in the way Curly was. He respects her well enough as coworkers but they're not at all close. He doesn't feel any real need to put her in priority, especially with the dire situation at hand. I don't think he doesn't care, it's just not something he sees in his jurisdiction. And I'm not saying there's nothing he could've done. Had literally anyone at any point in the game killed Jimmy, a lot of problems would be fixed. But, unlike Curly, Swansea doesn't have as many options.

When they open the cargo hold and he starts drinking again, he rediscovers happiness. I'd actually like to apologize for something quickly. I made a short comic in which Swansea comforts Anya after she tells him about Jimmy (which he doesn't actually do, smh bro) and in the caption I had said "I love you sm Swansea I wish you weren't an alcoholic 😔" (It's also my most popular fanart on here and I'm very thankful for that ^^)

I don't blame Swansea for his alcoholism. It's an addiction just as much as anything else and no one should have to go through that. I personally though have had bad experiences with alcoholics and I'm generally uncomfortable around them. I definitely worded that caption poorly and I apologize for that, but I had meant it in an "I wish you were sober" way. I know that the caption had rubbed people the wrong way, so I wanted to apologize.

So Swansea is drunk and happy for the first time in fifteen years. Despite his intoxicated state, he still has his one goal and that's to save the last cryopod for Daisuke. He knows that's what he wants and he sticks to it. It's just him and the ax against the world. Eventually, Jimmy takes the ax to get the extra painkillers and the ax kinda just disappears for a while. Like I have no idea where it went but Swansea has it again by the time he offs Daisuke.

Speaking of which, Swansea kills Daisuke. Framing-wise it's probably my favorite scene in the game, like the breathing and Swansea's speech. Chat, I love this scene. Anyways, Jimmy offers Swansea a drink as a "peace offering." Swansea is never sober at this point in the game but even he can appreciate a good cocktail, especially when he's been slogging mouthwash for months. Honestly, he doesn't trust Jimmy like AT ALL at this point, but Daisuke helped him with the cocktail.

Swansea is kinda putting his hopes in Daisuke. Like obviously, he's placing hope in Daisuke's survival, but I think he's also seeing this optimistic, bright-eyed kid who's struggling as himself at the start of his sobrity. Daisuke said that the reason he got this job was because he was directionless in life. He had nothing to look forward to and no goals. The difference between him and Swansea is Daisuke's parents got the job for him and Swansea had to do it himself. So in that way he started to appreciate how happy Daisuke was, which is more reason to hate that he's there.

Swansea passes out from the cocktail and when he wakes up Anya is dead and Daisuke is in critical condition. Anya's gone which means they're out of a medic so that makes Daisuke's situation a lot worse. But because Jimmy used the Isopropyl to knock out Swansea, they're out of disinfectant. They have to use mouthwash which is established early on to have too much sugar to be disinfectant. So they kinda made it worse because Swansea and Jimmy are idiots who didn't listen to Anya. After a few hours of Daisuke slowly bleeding out, Swansea mercy kills him. it. looks. so. cool. During this speech, Swansea says something along the lines of "Stick a kid with a bunch of sad-sack adults and see what he learns. Bootstraps and all that." He really hates that Daisuke is here, it's just that the reason has changed. Before the crash, Curly and Daisuke were the only two who weren't like clinically depressed. After the crash, only Daisuke can find it in himself to stay optimistic, but even his faith is dwindling (Jimmy is optimistic too, but that's because he's crazy).

Right after that, he chases Jimmy around with the ax until Jimmy ties him up and shoots him. This is when Swansea lore drops about himself. He explains that he literally has not been happy or enjoyed his life in 15 years. He's done everything he's supposed to when it comes to leading a good, healthy life, but it's not at all fulfilling. He hates his job, he doesn't look forward to seeing his family, he just killed the last speck of joy on this metal space coffin, and he has nothing to live for. He's already fallen back into addiction so even if he got back to Earth, he'd ruin his life all over again. He'd be happy, but his life would be ruined. And then Jimmy shoots him.

Now here's a little health fact! Swansea was dying the whole game. People suffering from alcohol abuse often end up drinking Listerine when other alcoholic drinks aren't available. Now I'm just speculating and projecting, but Swansea is definitely a beer guy, that's his go-to. His tolerance suggests he was a craft kinda guy (which has an ABV between 5 and 10% (idk this is from memory)) or someone who drank a lot really quickly, but the mouthwash was 14% ethanol. That, in and of itself isn't the main problem, though it is noteworthy that he was already drinking more than usual. The main problem is that drinking mouthwash will absolutely destroy your stomach and intestinal linings. Mouthwash isn't just alcohol and flavoring, there's other chemicals in it too. On a good day, you'll get a nasty stomach ache, but you'll live. One to many though, and you are dead or in a coma. Like no joke that will kill you, especially if you drink a lot of it in such a short amount of time. That's why they keep saying "that stuff will kill you before anything else will," because it's actively killing them. Swansea probably knew this but he's prone to self-destruction so he probably didn't care. Anyway, hope you enjoyed that little health fact, I love reading medical journals ask me anything.

While writing this, I paused and started scrolling on tiktok and I saw a video where someone was complaining about the sudden villainization of Swansea in the fandom. I've literally seen nothing like this, but in the video they said one of the critiques people had of Swansea was that he was just as bad as Curly for not doing anything about Jimmy. That's insane, that is a batshit crazy take and I rebuke it. For one, Swansea was never Jim's friend. He never set people up to be victimized by Jimmy, he never enabled Jimmy's behavior or tried to comfort him when he was the problem. This was just a crazy thing to say, please learn to comprehend thing beyond the main text.

Um.. uh... conclusion paragraph, I love Swansea and I love to pretend he was more proactive against Jimmy for Anya's sake, but he wasn't so it's whatever he's not real anyway. I feel like this ended up being really long, like longer than the other two but idk.

Here's the link to the Anya rant and the Curly rants I also did, that I should probably edit upon further reflection

[shinra33459]

I feel terrible for Spider

I get that a lot of people don't like Spider as a character, but when looking through his backstory, his childhood has been straight up fucking awful. And what better way to showcase this than to do one of my favorite things: playing psychoanalyst. Miles Socorro was born on Pandora in 2154, likely a few months before the Battle for the Tree of Souls. Growing up, he resented his father, and his mother, Paz, was killed in the final battle who he feels the closest kind of connection too, even though he never got to know her. Back in Hell's Gate when he was growing up, he wasn't close to his foster parents, Nash McCosker and Mary, and really only returned to them to eat, sleep, or when the Sullys didn't want him around. He grew up his entire life immersed in Na'vi culture, so much so that he feels like he's more Na'vi than he is human, even going so far as to paint blue stripes on his skin, style his hair in Na'vi dreadlocks, and wear a Na'vi loincloth to feel more like one of them. He's fluent in their language, knows the customs of the Omatikaya, learned to live as they do, hunt as they do, and survive as they do. In a way, he's a mirror image of Jake with the key difference being that Spider doesn't have an avatar to put his consciousness into. All the while, Neytiri treats him like shit his entire childhood, berating him, keeping him away from family gatherings, and even trying to forbid him from seeing Kiri when he was growing up. Jake stands up for him from time to time and is somewhat accepting as Jake knows exactly what Spider is going through, but even then, Jake literally refers to Spider as a stray cat. Not as the person Lo'ak and Kiri are the closest to and view as a sibling but likening him to a stray animal. Neytiri has valid trauma, but that does not excuse her actions. Her actions border on actual emotional and psychological abuse, and then when slashing him with her knife and then holding him at knifepoint and threatening to kill him as leverage, it crosses the line into physical abuse. Her pain gives her no right to treat a literal child the way she has. A child is not responsible for the sins of the father, and he didn't ask to be born human, hell, he didn't even ask to be born, period.

Now, it's obvious that he looked up to Jake and Neytiri in some way before everything, maybe not parental, be he obviously had a deep respect for them. They were the parents of the people he saw as siblings, and it's obvious that even back then, he was looking for any sort of parental affection. From when he was an infant to when he is 16, he never had anything really resembling that in a way that truly mattered, which is likely another reason why he hung out with the Sully family as much as he did, and likely hoping for anything resembling that. So, when Quaritch comes back, and says that he cares, even if Quaritch was just doing it to manipulate Spider, is it any wonder he started forming a bond with the man, especially over the months he was in captivity? He's been cut out of any parental affection for really his entire life, and here comes a Na'vi clone of his biological father who appears to be offering that to him. Combine that with the possibility of some form of Stockholm Syndrome, is it any wonder why he saved Quaritch as well? And then by the time Spider is fully adopted into the Sully family, he's 16 years old, two years away from being a full-grown man. The damage is already done. If he were a real person, he would be psychologically scarred beyond belief, and it wouldn't be surprising that a person like Spider would end up with behavioral issues, difficulties forming healthy relationships, boundary issues, self-esteem issues, and potentially substance abuse issues among a laundry list of others. This poor kid deserved and still deserves way better than what he's gotten, and it's likely that his treatment over the years, not having any kind of a stable childhood, growing up without a stable family, and so many more, likely damaged him for the rest of his life. I genuinely hope that he can find some kind of peace in the upcoming movies, because thus far, his entire life has been one gigantic trainwreck.

[devilishchaos]

Wildin', on a boat on an island | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Y/N and Rúben go on vacation..again.

Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby", "babe", "princesa"

AN: manifesting this photos energy <3 enjoy x

Word Count: 5 871 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you analyzed the shirtless brunette standing in front of you, your arms were crossed firmly across your chest. His eyebrows were raised as he awaited your answer, his back pressed against the kitchen island. 

“You are suggesting we don’t sleep together for the vacation..why?” you questioned, waiting for a decent explanation. 

“Because..my parents room is literally 30 centimeters from ours.” he explained quickly as he shrugged his shoulders with ease “AND I didn’t say that we can’t sleep in the same room! Just no funny business while in it..”

For more context, Rúben had asked you to accompany him on a little trip, on this beautiful boat on his family vacation. And has decided that now - an hour till you guys go on the boat  - is the perfect time to let you know he didn’t want to have sex with you. 

“It’s not like that has stopped you before?!?” you questioned him, with some suspicion still. 

“Babe..in the house is different. It’s a big house. Practically no one can hear us.” he answered with obviousness, it was a simple but logical answer “Listen, I’m going to go upstairs to bring your luggage down and put it in the car, while you cool off a bit, yeah?” 

You already knew it was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had and considering it's impulsive, spontaneous Rúben we're talking about..it was indeed terrible. 

"No." you replied simply, with no further explanation or motives as to why. 

Rúben looked actually taken aback by your answer, not being used to getting a ‘no’, not even from you. Though, he knew the only reason you'd said ‘no’ was to contradict him, and you, having no apparent reason to refuse, was an open invitation for Rúben to keep insisting. 

“Come on, it'll only be three days out.” Rúben insisted, using the nicest voice he could “Out there in the nice sea, with perfect weather, with food, drinks and a nice AC system... yeah? Plus - the boat has a double jacuzzi! Yeah?” he questioned you with a raised eyebrow, and at that, you shut your mouth. 

“I-”

“Uh huh, exactly.” 

“I can live without it!” 

“Oh, come on Y/N..” Rúben sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a few seconds, as if recharging his patience before adding “I'll give you whatever you want, whatever it is, I'll get it for you..after those three days. The only condition is - no sex on the boat."

That really got you thinking. 

“I can’t believe you. You sound really confident in yourself right now! Why do you think it is going to be me that is going to initiate something with you first? But you’re lucky that I love João, Bernardete and Ivan and would love to spend time with them. Have a great day Mr. Dias.” and with that you went inside the house to get your luggage because you are an independent young lady, who is not going to let things play out like her boyfriend wants to. 

*

In no time at all, the five of you were out. Rúben told you it would take a couple of hours to reach the perfect spot and if everything went well the fun on the boat could start in the early hours of the next day. 

It didn't seem like a bad plan, so you saw no reason to complain, it seemed fair. And if it wasn't so many days together you could easily ignore him. 

Rúben had kept his word about the ship's commodities, there were all kinds of snacks, drinks, and he had brought other kinds of substances. It was actually very comfortable and a part of you was glad you'd accepted to join them. But you still weren’t able to relax knowing your man didn’t wanna sleep with you. 

To say you were pissed at him was an understatement, but you were at that point of anger where you didn't even bother to show it, you immediately resorted to ignoring Rúben, which was very hard to do considering the fact that he was walking basically naked around you, only wearing his stupid short shorts that you wanted to rip off of him so bad. 

You had had your doubts about it at first, but now you were more than grateful that you had packed your swimsuits. Since you were giving Rúben the cold shoulder, you would have to find another way to entertain yourself; and being that you were in the sea and the weather is so nice, the most logical and comfortable thing to do would be to lie down on your towel, put on your sunglasses on and at least get a good tan out of it. 

Rúben, on the other hand, was annoyed with himself. He knew it was among the possibilities that you would get mad at him and do just what you are doing now, which is ignoring him completely. 

He hadn't seen you since last night, when you two had an argument during dinner about sleeping in separate rooms, which you insisted on. Since he didn’t wanna have sex with you - you didn’t want to tempt him..yet. 

Rúben felt his heart almost leap out of his chest as soon as he saw you come out of the booth, in your red swimsuit, the one that accentuated every curve of your body. You'd worn it around him before, and the last time you did, he fucked you in the pool. 

You seemed not to have seen him, or if you had, then you did a very good job of pretending he wasn't there. Once you knew you were within his range of view and he could see you perfectly well, you bent over to lay your towel on the floor of the boat, feeling the fabric of your bathing suit slide slightly over your butt. It wasn't much, but just enough. 

Rúben’s jaw tightened so bad he feared his teeth would crack, to keep from letting out a groan at the sight, he closed his eyes shut and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white; focusing on what Ivan was telling him, trying to get the image of you, bent over a few feet in front of him in nothing but your bathing suit, out of his mind. 

Rúben knew you were doing it on purpose, you knew how much he liked that bathing suit on you. But today? Right now? You were playing very dirty games with his head. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way your skin glowed under the sun, how well your swimsuit fit and the fact that you were doing this to provoke him, caused his shorts to feel too tight all of a sudden. 

Rúben didn't even know what to do with himself, so he decided to go take a cold bath; he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of messing with his head like that. 

He excused himself and exited the small cabin, leaving Ivan, and you lifted your head to see him walk away. Rúben looked a little uncomfortable and you noticed how he slightly tugged the front of his shorts as he walked. 

"What, do I make you nervous, Rúbes?" you teased in a loud voice, causing him to turn around and flip you off. Without saying anything else, Rúben entered another door and slammed it shut. 

And with that, a little victory smile appeared on your lips. 

*

Eventually, tanning got boring. You looked down at your own body and lifted the edge of your swimsuit slightly, the tan lines were just the way you liked them, on point. Full of satisfaction, you gathered your things and decided to go back inside, maybe to take a bath and eat something. 

You entered quietly, not wanting to attract anybody's attention. You walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Just as you grabbed the bathroom doorknob to open it - the door opened. Out of the bathroom came Rúben, with nothing but a towel tied around his hips. You stopped dead in your tracks in the hallway at the sight, which you couldn't deny was very good. The towel was wrapped around Rúben’s hips so low that his prominent V-line was visible to a rather dangerous point, one you didn't want to let your eyes get to. 

He was shirtless obviously, so you had a perfect view of his defined torso and muscular arms, some water droplets still rolled down his body, making a path from his chest, down his abdomen and getting lost under his towel. 

His hair was still wet, framing his face perfectly. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and you realized, too late already, there was a little smile on his lips, prompted by the way you were eyefucking him. 

“What, do I make you nervous, princesa?” Rúben questioned you, using the same condescending tone and smirk you had earlier, as he took a step closer to you. 

You genuinely felt your knees weaken at his voice and the way he looked, but you were too proud to let him know that, so you simply shrugged. 

“Come closer and maybe I'll tell you.” you teased with a low tone, letting your eyes travel down his body. 

Rúben’s smirk only grew and you thought that finally you two were on the same page, thinking about the same thing, and more importantly, that it would happen. He took a confident step towards you, so this way he was towering over you, his chest barely inches away from yours, his lips basically hovering over yours. 

You placed both hands on his body, letting them travel from his abs all the way to his chest, causing him to bite his lip at the feeling. Rúben leant down even more, his lips grazing with yours, breaths mixing and skin touching. 

And then.. 

You pushed him out of the way and locked yourself in the bathroom. By doing that, provoking Rúben in that way and then putting a door between the two of you - you had started a silent game, in which you were provoking each other in an obvious way, waiting to see who is going to give in first. And you were determined it is not going to be you. 

After hours of playing tease, any slight contact or brush from Rúben’s skin against yours had you biting your lip to silence a sound and any look you gave Rúben with your bedroom eyes had him on the verge of jumping your bones. 

The staring game got a little too heavy for Rúben, so he stood up from the booth and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a cold bottle of water to refresh himself. You knew you couldn't let him get away with it, at least not without trying, so you stood up and walked to the kitchen as well, if he asked, then being dinner time would be a perfect excuse. 

Rúben heard you walk into the kitchen, but paid no mind, deciding to focus solely on his water, placing a hand on the kitchen island and letting his head hang low. Funny enough, the drawer where pans are kept is right where Rúben is, by his left hand, and sure as hell you wouldn't ask anything from him. Which left you with only one choice. 

You walked to where he stood, which he noticed as he turned his head sideways to look at you, and right when he took a step back, you found the perfect opportunity to slip right between him and the kitchen island, your body grinding on him, in all the right places. 

The sound of Rúben’s breathing picking up gave you a sense of victory, as you remained in front of him and bent slightly to take out the pan you needed, only to walk away right when you felt him harden behind you and the ghost of his hand over your hip. 

He really thought he had you. Again. 

Your smile of victory didn't disappear, not even when the stove wouldn't turn on and you had to resort to chopping fruit and hoping that was enough to rid your hunger. Now is when Rúben found the perfect opportunity to tease you back, seeing as you were completely distracted while cutting fruit. He slowly walked back into the kitchen, making sure you couldn't hear him. You were completely clueless to his presence, even when he stood right behind you. 

However, as soon as Rúben took another step closer, you did become aware of his presence. Very. 

“Oh, don't mind me.” he mumbled in your ear. 

“Rúben, what are you doing?” you asked, pretending to be completely unbothered, while the reality is that you're screaming on the inside. His chest was pressed to your back, one of his hands had found its way to your hips, and his breath tingled in your ear. 

And right there was when he reached out to grab a glass, which was on the cabinet above your head. The reality is that he didn't have to stretch to reach the glass, it was just a matter of raising his arm. But where was the fun in that? 

As he stretched, his body pressed even closer against yours, you could feel him hard against you, his breath now in your ear. And in an attempt to avoid his lips, you bent over, a move that only served in Rúben’s favor, causing you to bite your lip in an attempt to silence the moan that would come from your lips. 

You both were thinking the same thing. Of just how easy it would be for him to take you right there and then. 

But you wouldn't give up just yet, no sir, you still had one ace up your sleeve. Which is why you picked up your fruit tray and slid out from the right space between the bar and Rúben’s body. 

* 

Normally, you wouldn't care if Rúben decided to just watch you eat instead of eating something himself, but right now it had you on edge. 

You and his mother were sitting on the couch in the booth, while Rúben and Ivan were sitting opposite of you, their dad fishing on the other end of the boat. Rúben was sitting on the seat in front of you, his legs spread slightly, his hands on his thighs and his eyes fixed on you. He was basically manspreading, occasionally lifting his hips from the chair to ‘get comfortable’, but you weren't stupid. 

“Are you done flexing your muscles?” you asked him boredly, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed again as you stood up, his eyes followed your hand closely, especially when you drove your fingers to your lips and sucked the remaining fruit juice off them. The sight almost made him roll his eyes, but not in annoyance. 

“I'm going to the jacuzzi.” you announced, letting your eyes travel over him. “You continue doing that.” 

Even though it had not been an open or direct invitation, you knew Rúben had understood the innuendo. 

You hurried to the jacuzzi, taking off your clothes as the water heated up, you poured the bubble soap while letting your hair down, knowing that Rúben wouldn't be long in coming, although he wasn't hot on your heels to disguise how desperate he was, you knew he was coming for you. 

As you stared at the steaming, bubbly water, a wicked idea found its way to your mind. 

Meanwhile, Rúben paced back and forth in the hallway, running his hands through his hair repeatedly, especially when he stopped and had that urge to open the bathroom door where he knew you were. 

You're just a door away and what's holding him back is his pride. Knowing that if he opens that door, he's admitting his need for you. Proving that chasing after you is more important than his pride. 

He cursed himself for what felt the longest time before giving in and opening the bathroom door. The first thing he saw was steam. Lots of it. It made him squint his eyes while they trailed over the place in search of you. 

His eyes fell on the jacuzzi, it was filled with small bubbles, the room smelt like you, white musk scent surrounding you. And there you were, your back pressed against the side of the jacuzzi, arms spread over the edge, the bubbly water covering your body, stopping right below your collarbones, just atop of your chest. 

His mind automatically went places, but Rúben kept his thoughts at bay as he took off his shirt without a word. You did nothing but stare at him, your eyes following his every move, from the way he gripped the edge of his shirt, to the way he slid it off his body and his torso came into view. 

Rafe took a step closer, but he felt something soft under his foot, so he looked down. And what did he find?

Your swimsuit. 

At first he didn't process entirely what it meant, but then his eyes widened. 

You were naked. 

In the jacuzzi that's just a couple of steps away from him. 

And he was just..standing there like an idiot? Rúben was embarrassed of himself. 

A soft giggle escaped your lips when you noticed how flustered Rúben suddenly got, he actually struggled while taking off his shorts and if you hadn't been so amused by the view, you would have offered to help. 

Eventually he stopped fumbling with its ties and right when he pulled it down his hips, you looked away. Your tongue glided over your teeth as you felt the temptation to look, but you were stronger than that. 

“Enjoying the jacuzzi you said you could live without?” Rúben asked in a calm tone as he got in it, sitting by your right side. 

“Very much.” you assured, running your hand through the water, moving the bubbles slightly, you really had no intention other than to distract yourself from how nervous you were, still, Rúben tried to see through the bubbles. 

He couldn't handle himself anymore, he had denied himself of you for so long that he wanted you now. Told himself he was crazy. But now that he has you in front of him - he will do anything to have you. 

And an idea popped up in his mind. He knew this would be pathetic, lame even, but it would work. 

As you both did nothing but enjoy the hot tub and tried to ignore each other's bodies, Rúben discreetly slid his hand to the side control panel of the hot tub. Although he would never admit it, he spends so much time in the hot tub that he learned the controls by heart. So he knew exactly which buttons to push to disable two of the hot tub jets, the ones on your side, for that matter. 

Your state of relaxation was interrupted as soon as you stopped feeling the hot water flowing on your side of the jacuzzi, the vibrations had stopped and you no longer felt the soft massages on your skin. 

You raised your head and opened your eyes, noticing that indeed, the water stopped on your side. “What the..”

“What's wrong?” Rúben asked, his eyes closed as he did his best to hide a little smirk. 

“The water just..stopped?” you replied in confusion, not understanding why he was so calm. 

“Oh, that's bad. My side is just fine.” he replied simply, opening his eyes. 

You rolled your eyes at his disinterested tone. You couldn't believe that you had actually gone out of your way to plan all this and he couldn't even stop getting on your nerves for a second. 

Utterly done with his bullshit, you slowly moved to the little steps that led out of the hot tub, the last thing you wanted was to slip and embarrass yourself. 

However, before you could even reach them, you felt long fingers wrapping around your wrist, his skin was soft and warm due to the hot bubbly water. You turned to look at him, doing your best to keep your eyes focused on his. 

“Come closer.” his voice was calm, his fingers softly tugged your wrist; as if wanting to pull you closer but not quite to make you uncomfortable. 

You complied to his request and walked slowly to where he sat, the bubbles doing all the work and covering your body from his. You kept getting closer, Rúben slowly opened his legs, so you could stand between them. 

The feeling of the skin of his thighs against yours was your cue to stop, knowing that if you took one step closer, you'd feel him against you. 

His eyes bore on yours. The hazel color of his eyes was darkened by the lust running through his body, his pupils were dilated, his lips plump and red. He was one hell of a handsome man. 

Your faces were inches away from each other, but neither of you would yield to the temptation. 

You bit your lip slightly as soon as you felt Rúben’s large hands resting on your hips, the grip was firm, showing he wasn't hesitating. 

Testing the waters, you took a step closer and he let you, the grip on your hips becoming firmer and more secure, you could even say you felt him pulling you into his body slightly. 

Keeping eye contact, Rúben’s hand began to slide lightly, brushing your hip with his fingertips. His hand moved down to your thigh, where he caressed your thigh with his fingertips, drawing imaginary circles, which moved closer and closer to the center of your legs. 

Knowing exactly what he was doing, you felt fire in the pit of your stomach. You wanted him. And you wanted him now. But you also didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Maybe after all you were as stubborn as he claimed you were. 

You motioned to move your leg, and immediately, Rúben took a hold of your thigh, stopping you. A smirk appeared on your lips. Without saying anything, you yielded to his touch and moved even closer, putting your leg over his thigh and quickly bringing the other leg up as well, straddling him. 

The direct contact of your skin with Rúben’s, your core brushing against his dick..made him let out an agitated sigh right in your ear. 

And you would have teased him about it, but the truth is that the contact of his hard dick against your body almost made you moan. He was right under you, all it took was for you to raise slightly and for him to align himself. 

Ignoring how much you wanted to grind on him, you put your arms around his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck in the process, moving even closer, your chest pressed against his and your chin resting on his shoulder, wanting to enjoy the warm water a while longer before the inevitable happened. 

Rúben’s arms wrapped around your body, your breasts pressed against his chest, your pussy brushing just the right places on his dick. If this is the game you wanted to play, then Rúben would be just as good at it. 

He lifted his hips slightly and at that you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which you prayed he hadn't heard, but he did and it only fed his ego. 

As his fingertips caressed your spine, Rúben moved your hair from your shoulders to get better access and brought his lips to your neck. He started with innocent kisses, little brushes of his lips against your skin, while his fingertips caressed your skin. 

However, he was determined to break you. He brought his lips to the small spot below your ear, where he sucked, receiving an audible moan from you. One of his hands had slid down your back until it ended at your left asscheek, which he squeezed and used to push your body against his, causing you to grind on him. 

“Fuck..” you mumbled, throwing your head back out of mere instinct. 

He had so many dirty comments to make, but he decided to concentrate on you. Since you had thrown your head back, he had more access to your neck. He brought his lips to your skin again, starting to leave little bites and kisses all over, while one of his hands traveled to your breasts, his fingers taking one of your nipples and giving it a twist. 

At this you squirmed slightly on top of him, your hips moving against his, rubbing his dick in such a perfect way that it made him growl against your skin. 

“You like that, meu amor?” he murmured against your skin, voice husky “Want me to do it again?” 

“Yes.” you mumbled breathlessly. 

His fingers moved deftly between your legs, as you grasped his jaw and moved his head to the side, so that you could have access to his neck and an efficient way to quiet the sounds he would elicit from you. 

His index finger slipped between your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit until he found it, and began to give circular notions. You accidentally left a little bite on his neck, which was welcomed by Rúben , as he started to speed up his thumb and slid his middle finger inside you. 

“Rúbenn..” you murmured, your walls automatically tightening around his finger. 

“Does this feel good, princesa?” he murmured in your ear as his thumb accelerated his movements, he slid his ring finger in as well, your walls clenching at his voice "Oh it does, you're already clenching around my fingers." 

Now he had two fingers inside you, which he began to move in a come hither motion, hitting your sweet spot instantly, the one he had found in a matter of seconds. 

“Oh, fuuuck, Rúb-” 

He could feel you, how your walls clenched around his fingers so tightly it was hard for him to move them, your kisses on his neck had become sloppy and wet and your eyes were closed. Just when you felt you would reach the tip of ecstasy, Rúben pulled his fingers out of you. 

You were about to yell at him, but he spoke first, taking your jaw with one of his hands, fixing his eyes on yours. 

“I want to make you cum on my dick, yeah?” 

And you swore you could've come right there. Just by his words. 

“Yeah?” he questioned again, making you realize it had been more of a way to get your permission. 

“Yeah.” you nodded your head eagerly and that was all he needed. 

Rúben wrapped his arms around you and stood up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, biting your lip in anticipation for what was about to come. 

Rúben knew the boat like the back of his hand, so in a matter of no time, both of you were in his room. Rúben placed you down on his bed, not caring in the least that you were wetting it. 

He was soon close to you again, his lips on your skin. Your breathing started to become erratic, unable to control yourself in the face of the new sensations. His kisses traveled all over your neck, part of your shoulders and even on your jaw. 

Without a word, Rúben grabbed you with moderate force by the jaw and caught your lips with his immediately. You lost yourself in the kiss completely, the sensation of his lips against yours stoking the fire within you even more. 

Unable to stay still and wanting to discover your whole body, Rúben began to leave kisses and little bites on your neck. You tried to grab his face to bring him back to your lips, but as soon as you tried, he pulled away from you, took your wrists and put them against the bed, his face was above yours, the room was barely being illuminated by the light that was filtering through the blinds, so you couldn't see much, only the shadow of his features. 

“You want me?” he asked over your lips, his voice hoarser than usual and his breathing was rapid. 

“I want you. So bad.” 

You saw the shadow of a victorious smile on his lips and felt them against yours again, he put both hands holding your wrists above your head, and held both of your wrists with one hand, freeing his other one. 

His kisses began to descend again, with a slowness that clearly had the sole purpose of driving you crazy. You lifted your hips off the bed so you could feel some more of him, while Rúben took advantage of this and positioned himself between your legs with ease. 

He stopped kissing you momentarily, you could feel his breath on your skin and without warning, he returned his hand in between your thighs and now pushed three fingers inside you, while his thumb returned to your clit, you inevitably ended up letting out a moan, as his fingers had hit the right spot again. Having located the spot already, he began to move his fingers faster and deeper, curving them from time to time, accelerating the speed of his thumb as well. 

His lips went lower and lower, until his head was between your thighs and your hand was lost in his hair. His lips concentrated on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue, making you let out an erotic moan that you were ashamed of, because of how loud it had been. 

His hand kept up that incredible rhythm, but what made you almost climax was the feeling after he sucked on your clit and bit down lightly. 

“Rú- Rúben..I'm gonna-” 

That was all he needed to know to remove his hand, he would keep up with his word. As soon as he moved his hand away from your pussy, you immediately felt the emptiness, but you were too busy getting back to normal to complain. 

Rúben brought his fingers covered with your wetness to his lips and licked them clean, the sight of that, combined with the ‘mmm’ that he let out, was mouth watering. 

Rúben pulled you closer to him, so that your legs were over his thighs, he placed his hands on the sides of your head. His dick rubbed against your entrance, which brought gasps to both of your lips. 

He leaned over you and you could hear his breathing fast and heavy in your ear, it was almost like he was waiting for something.

“What's wrong?” you asked. “Are you doubt- ” 

You didn't get to finish saying the sentence, because he entered you with a quick movement of his hips, making you moan immediately, it took a few seconds to get used to the sensation of having him inside you. It always did. No matter how many times you've slept together, he is just so big. 

He stayed still for a few seconds, letting out hoarse mumbles of how good you felt, directly into your ear. Once you felt comfortable, you tightened your walls around him, which made him let out a grunt and start moving his hips against yours. 

You brought your hands to his neck and pulled his face to yours, bringing your lips together in a desperate kiss, as his hips moved incessantly, one of your hands tangled in his hair and as if on reflex, he put a hand around your neck, squeezing the sides lightly, something that made you moan into his lips. 

“How could you do this to me? All that teasing..I’m not made from steel..” he whispered in your ear. 

“Rúben, oh my God..” 

“I love you so much.” 

His words and the movement of his hips made your eyes roll “Don't stop, babe..please.” 

He pulled his face away from yours and placed his weight on the arm he had placed at the side of your head, speeding up his movements. You wrapped your legs around his waist to deepen things. 

You noticed that he started to slow down, but his movements still had depth. You knew he was doing it so he wouldn't tire quickly, but maybe you could help.  You used a considerable amount of strength to be able to turn you both around, ending up on top of him, while he looked at you with his lower lip between his teeth. 

Just to tease him further, you slipped his dick out of you and moved away, your body hovering over his thighs. He sat down on the bed, waiting for you to do something, but you only smirked at him. 

Rúben sat there while stroking himself and being done with your attitude, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back to him, starting to fill your breasts with wet kisses and hickeys, biting your nipples from time to time, while you put your legs around him, slowly positioning yourself on top of him, again. 

You knew you wouldn’t last too long, anyway. 

“Stop teasing me, princesa.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

He used the grip he had on your hips and pulled you down, entering you again, a hoarse moan came from his lips. You pushed him down by the chest so he’d lay down and began to move on top of him, in circles and up and down while his hands were on your hips and yours on his chest. 

You knew those moves were only satisfying you, as you moved as you needed to, and Rúben was quick to notice that. The grip he had on your hips began to tighten, a sign that he was getting desperate. Until he finally sat down in a rush, and began to move you at the pace he wanted, as the hand he kept on your hip guaranteed him control. 

“You're so stubborn, you know that?” he emphasized every word with a hip thrust. 

“Fuck, fu- fuck, Rú- Rúb-..” you weren't even able to say his name, or speak at all. 

You placed one hand on his shoulder and another on his neck, starting to move faster. He left sloppy kisses on your chest and you scratched his back, sometimes even left bites on his shoulder to stifle moans, especially when he murmured things in your ear, along the lines of ‘you're mine’, ‘this pussy feels so good’, ect. 

It didn't take long before you two began to lose rhythm, his movements were erratic and your speed had slowed. Until he finally came inside you, seeing the way his eyes closed tightly, as heavy breaths came from between his pink lips along with the “Fuck, Y/N, you feel like heaven..” he mumbled, was what made you climax too. 

While you both came down from your highs, there was nothing but silence, Rúben was still inside you and remained like that, after he turned you over, collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around his body, both of you falling asleep without another word. 

[wosoragebaiter69]

but i didn't did pour the whiskey

barça femeni x reader

overview: they said getting over addiction wasn't easy, what about when no one knows? what about when relapse happens after a whole year?

A/N: my requests are sitting... but I can't get to them and im really sorry, ive been so busy atm and dont got much modivation for em'

TW: alcohol addiction, self-hatred, relapse, course language, actual detail instead of me brushing over it

!! viewer discretion is advised, i suggest only mature audiences read this !!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In all honesty, you'd seen the signs. You'd known the inevitable was coming. The feelings of urge that you'd felt a year ago when trying to stop. You had stopped though, so you ignored it. Then it became more real. To the blank stares at the crates in the stores, rather than the hatred you harboured before after finally being ‘better’.

To walking and judging if you should buy it or not.

To blinking tears out of your eyes, wondering why you'd think that in the first place.

Because why would you, you were better now. Right? That's what you'd told yourself anyways.

It kept amplifying over the course of a week. Until you couldn't take it, until everything you'd worked so hard for for the past year came crashing down. All those memories of countless nights pacing, crying, yelling over a stupid fucking substance fade away.

Guilt. That's all there is. Guilt.

Guilt for betraying your past self who had cried for hours, who felt like she was going psycho over not having a single drink.

But, you can't find it in yourself to stop drinking it. It's just one beer, how harmful could it be? Said by the words of a true fucking alcoholic.

So, you do the only thing you can think of and cry. Cry until your face is numb, your throat burning with every breath, cry until your lungs can't take in any oxygen anymore.

Cry until you feel like you've felt something.

Then when you did stop crying what did you do? The only option you thought you had. Drink more.

- - - - -

You knew you looked like shit, you felt like it too. Your face puffy from the numerous breakdowns the night before, your eyes red from the tears that had an endless flow, dark rings under your eyes from the restless 3 hour sleep you'd got.

Also not to mention the headache you'd acquired. Knowing that only last year if you'd drunk this much, you'd only start to feel something. That's not something to be proud of.

You try your hardest to make yourself look even the slightest bit presentable, getting rid of the puffy face with a shower and taking paracetamol to take away the ache in your skull.

This would do enough to convince them you were fine, it's not like you were the loudest or most obnoxious person on the team. Preferring to observe everything with a smile.

What you didn't consider? Your captains. You're only 22 so even if you're techincally an adult, they're still over 7 years older than you.

So you walk into the lockeroom for training, silently making your way to your cubby as usual. Until, you feel a tug on your sleeve. Alexia is standing there, worry etched into her features.

"You ok? It looks like you've barely slept." Her voice is low and quiet, something you were eternally grateful for.

"Yeah, just a rough night. Thanks capi." You don't lie, but you don't tell the full truth either. She can sense this but doesn't say anymore, allowing you to go back to getting ready.

You take the time to rethink of the previous night, the regret you'd felt immediately after taking the first sip. But, the feeling of being unable to stop.

No matter how much you'd told yourself it was nothing, you know this isn't the end.

You push the thoughts away, clearing your mind of any thoughts before walking out onto the field ready for training.

- - - - -

It was the same people you saw watching you; Alexia, Marta and Mapi. It wasn't every second but enough to showcase they knew something was wrong but just didn't know what.

You had joined in the summer from your old club in Italy. No one knew of the past you'd had with alcohol. It's not like you made an effort to tell them either, they respected your choices not to drink when going out and you didn't need to bring up topics that were from before even moving to Barcelona.

Maybe if they knew, you'd have someone to confide it.

Somehow you'd managed to hide it from your old team as well, but considering the close relationships that Barcelona had with each other you doubted it would be shrugged off as easily.

When training was finally over, you were quick to slip away. As the thoughts and need of what caused you in this melancholic state start to reappear in your mind.

Not now, why after so long did you have to collapse now? When the peak of your career could potentially be around the corner.

You want to survive like a normal person, you want to be able to do things without relying on a fucked up liquid. Why did it have to be you?

And why?

Why is the only thing you can think of to soothe these thoughts, alcohol?

- - - - -

You stare blankly at the open carton, hesitation as you ponder if you should give in or not. Should you drink it? Part of your mind says yes, part of you yearns for it. The rational side says no, and to stop before it's too late.

But wasn't it already?

So you give in. The burning down your throat a painfully familar comfortality.

In a depressing way it makes you more aware of your surroundings, the beer bottles scattered in the room. Liquid all over the floor and on your things. It bothers you, but you can't bring yourself to clean it.

So you sulk, going over past memories. You'd never considered yourself a sad drunk, always being happier and finding a way to goof about while drinking. Then, very rarely toward the end of recovery getting angry. Never sad though.

Times change, people change. You thought you'd changed, but that kind of addiction? It never seemed to leave. Waiting until you're vulnerable to attack. Like an incurable disease.

Before you really comprehend it, the whole box of beers you'd bought yesterday are empty and strown across the floor.

You reach a point of feeling nothing, a numbing feeling brought by guilt, the alcohol making everything seem hazy. Your phone is ringing, but you can't bring yourself to answer. You can't bring yourself to care.

- - - - -

Knocking at your door brings you out of the limboed state you're in. You figure they'll leave soon, and the knocking stops after a minute. Until the door opens revealing the three who had been watching you in the morning.

Alexia is the first to you, the others take in the state of your apartment and walk around elsewhere.

"Hey." It's all she says, but enough for tears to fall from your eyes. You can't bare to look at her face, so you keep your eyes glued to the floor.

"Come on, look at me." She uses her hands to guide your chin so you're looking straight at her.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." She pauses, "Let's sober you up first." You don't argue, and follow her orders. Exhausted, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

- - - - -

Waking up was easier than you'd thought it would be, your head not pounding as much as in the morning. It made sense though considering you'd drank less than the night before. There were pills on the side table with a glass of water which you take easily.

The sun is setting so you must have slept for a couple of hours by this point. When you walk into the living room you notice all the rubbish gone, the floors are clean and there's no reminisince of beer anywhere. Alexia, Marta and Mapi are talking quietly amongst themselves and look up once they realise you're awake.

"Come, sit." Mapi pats next to her. You nod silently walking over.

"Would you mind explaining to us what happened? I know you’ve said before don't drink, so this is very new. If you don't want to talk that's also fine but I don't want to see you hurt." Alexia says, she doesn't pry but she does make her point known.

"Ok, but please can you do no talking while I explain? I'm not sure how much I can take if I don't explain it all in one." You're not sure why you opened up so easily, maybe because you desperately craved for someone. Anyone.

"Last year, I was an alcoholic and I can't tell you really when it started. It was to take all the weight and pressure off my shoulders originally, but it turned worse. I just kept drinking regularly and when I tried to settledown, I realised I couldn't. So I didn't stop. It worked for me."

"Then as the season moved on I realised I did desperately need to do something about it but I was just so scared of what people would say to me. How would they react?"

“So instead of getting proper help I did it myself.”

"I got rid of all traces, didn't go out as much. It was horrible. I thought I was going crazy. I wasn't ok at all. I'd obviously relapsed a couple times when trying by myself to recover but it gave me more determination. I'd say it took like 3 months before I truly felt like I was clean."

"Then, I'd had the oppurtunity to play here and it's like everything went away. I should've known better." You sigh.

"Known what? Did you know you were going to relapse again?" Marta asks carefully.

"I saw the signs but ignored them, when I did give in... all I felt was regret, I still do. I think that's why I drank the rest if I'm going to be honest." You look away, not daring to look at any of them.

A pair of arms engulf you, large hands pushing your head to the persons chest.

"Listen to me, we can help you. You won't ever have to do this alone, not while I'm here ok? I don't know much about this, but I'll try. We all will." You start sobbing into her chest, clinging your fists tightly into her shirt. A way to thank them without words.

Because the belief they had in you made you feel like you could do it. Even in these drowning times.

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i hope you enjoyed fic, this may not be accurate to everyone but this is my experience with battling addiction to alcohol and i write it because i too relapsed after a year recently

this was more for also for awareness and just know that you aren’t alone in anything, if you feel you need someone to talk to i’m always here :)