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fandomlit · 3 days ago

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sweatshirt thief (spencer agnew x reader)

summary as the office thief, you finally find your passion—stealing people’s sweatshirts. it turns into an iconic bit that cameos in many videos, but some cast members are surprisingly waiting for their turn..

warning swearing

gif cred belongs to @menchie

you were notoriously known as the office thief. it was a bit you had unintentionally started after some games gone chaotic in which you had been known, or more likely accused, to steal cards or other game related objects to either derail the game or benefit your competitive nature.

if anyone asked (and the fans started to), you would say it was angela’s fault, truly. she was the one who had yelled, after stealing penalty cards and slipping them into her spread during moose master, that soon you’d be stealing from desks. and so you decided it was only fair. the next day, angela was in a near panic trying to find her lucky frog—a small plush you had gotten her. and when she came to you, nearly in tears, to say she had somehow lost your sweet gift, you were holding him in your lap. from there, the thief rumors really started.

from pens to coffee cups to the shoe off of amanda’s foot, you were sneaky with your takes, but most everyone knew it was you after some months of shenanigans. even the fans, once amanda and shayne had you star on smosh mouth after the infamous shoe incident. but it wasn’t until about a month ago when you found your favorite thing to steal, and the fans loved it even more than you did—sweatshirts.

it started when you “arrived late” to a werewolf shoot. courtney had already given the intro and they had bantered a bit about the game before chanse gave the awaited, “aren’t we missing someone? where’s y/n?”

“sorry guys!” you called from just out of view and you watched jaws drop and laughter start when you romped onto camera, hands on your hips. you stopped in a “casual” pose, the iconic ‘furniture’ sweatshirt on full display to all. “traffic, you know?” shayne was almost in tears on the couch, face red as you took your seat next to angela.

“where did you get that?” he squeaked out, voice pitched higher in his hysterics. “i haven’t worn that in weeks!” his words sent the cast present into even further hysterics.

you just shrugged, keeping yourself impressively stone faced amongst the laughter. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“are we just.. not going to address it?” shayne said after a few more minutes of more banter and explaining the game. he was still chuckling, eyes locked on the sweatshirt you had somehow managed to get your hands on.

“shayne,” you sighed, shaking your head. “you’re married, stop looking at my outfit.” courtney and angela gripped onto each other’s arms to steady themselves from their laughter as chanse gasped dramatically. and thus, the sweatshirt stealing began.

next was tommy, who was more in love with how you pulled it off than confused. then there was angela, who stared at her iconic arizona tea sweatshirt in shock for half of the video. your favorite for a while was amanda’s reaction, who at first was obliviously giddy that you had found the same striped pullover as her until you finally cracked and started laughing. you had even managed to get your hands on anthony’s ‘on the verge’ sweatshirt one of his rare days on set, which he found absolutely hysterical after being informed of your sticky fingers.

some of the cast watched as you and anthony laughed and talked, you still proudly donning his sweatshirt.

“who do you think’s her next victim?” angela asked.

“i don’t know,” tommy hummed, tilting his head. “maybe courtney? she told me she’s been waiting for a chance to get ian, but he doesn’t really wear sweatshirts.”

“you know who does wear sweatshirts all the time?” they shared a knowing look.

and to be honest, spencer was waiting his turn.

you and him had been good friends for a while, getting lunch together once a week and spending downtime in the office brainstorming and joking with each other. he was trying to be cool, downplaying his feelings for the sake of a comfortable workspace in the scenario that you didn’t reciprocate, but his connection to you was undeniable.

you were beautiful, hilarious, confident, and your personality radiated in everything you did. not to mention you two had amazing chemistry both on and off camera—your infamous stone face was hard to break, but spencer was one of the few who could catch you off guard regularly, a fact that the fans loved to point out. but even without the fans to point it out, your banter and teases at each other were natural and fun, and spencer cherished that connection.

so he was waiting for a sweatshirt to go miraculously missing, so he could have that moment of teasing you on camera for wanting his sweatshirt, but also for the selfish fact that he just wanted to see you in his clothes.

he was a little worried that he was being too obvious about it and that’s why you weren’t taking the bait. he had started hanging his sweatshirt on the back of his chair wherever he was while also starting to tease you about your sweatshirt stealing habits.

“you just want to be next, don’t you?” you had teased back one morning, raising your mug to your smug lips. spencer’s heart immediately sped up. he knew you were joking, but the thought of you immediately clocking him had his cheeks heating up.

spencer decided playing along was his best bet—denial would only make him look as desperate as he felt. he leaned against the counter, offering you a charming smirk. “i just know you won’t be able to stay away for much longer.” you let out a laugh, and his smirk grew into a smile. “if you think i’m irresistible, just imagine how comfortable my sweatshirt will be.”

you laughed again, shaking your head as you moved past spencer to return to your desk, “we'll see where the day takes me.” you turned and winked at him as he watched you. his heart could have exploded as you giggled. “see you later, spence.”

he felt like he had been emotionally blue balled when you pulled up to the next smosh pit video "late" and rocking one of damien's hoodies.

"sorry i'm late! traffic, y'know?"

then it was courtney, and then arasha. after two months of the bit, he was ready to beg. the joking flirting between the two of you, plus the genuine connection you had when hanging out was starting to haunt spencer. it was beginning to feel like everything was going so well, and yet there was a piece missing. as if the sweatshirt stealing would be the great crux to this growing tension and incessant pining.

of course, it happened when spencer least expected it.

it was a crazy week in the smosh office, with fitting a lot of shooting in to accommodate busy schedules in the weeks after. there was a lot going on on the games side and spencer quickly found himself deep in his work, nearly forgetting your sticky fingers with his efforts completely focused elsewhere. and that's where you got him.

it was the friday evening shoot--the very last thing he had to do before he got to relax for the weekend. it was a simpler edition of board af, with you, angela, shayne, tommy, and spencer. he didn't even think twice about you being late when tommy started the intro.

"but wait," tommy chuckled, "aren't we missing someone?" spencer's heart involuntarily sped up at the classic line that began to signal you. "where's y/n?"

"sorry i'm late!" and when you stepped into the light, it was as if all the weight in the world had been taken off of spencer's shoulders. from the long week filled with shoots, complicated scheduling, last minute brainstorm meetings and other stressors, the sight of you in his iconic legacy hoodie was the most satisfying relief he could have imagined. he didn't realize one of his hands had come up to cover his open mouth until the other cast members looked at him as they laughed. "traffic y'know?"

spencer had thought about how he'd react a thousand times, but in all of those times he had never imagined just how good you would look in his sweatshirt. still, he masked his internal freak out. he dropped his hand and shook his head. "it has been such a crazy week, i don't even know when you did that." he wasn't aware of just how big his smile was in that moment.

you bowed with a proud grin. "a magician never reveals their secrets... but you have a bad habit of leaving your sweatshirts on the backs of chairs when you take them off. it was only a matter of time."

he just laughed, internally patting himself on the back. he couldn't take his eyes off of you, even as you sat down. he shook his head as the rest of the cast still grinned knowingly at your pair. "well, you look great."

"i feel great," you sighed out contentedly. you offered him a subtle wink before sinking into the video, "so, tommy, what are we playing?"

it was a fun gaming session, with the usual chaos and yelling that usually ensued, but spencer felt a little more into it today. and maybe it was because his pulse rushed every time he looked over and saw the adorable sight of you wrapped in his iconic hoodie, but spencer felt like every joke and every move he made was right on the money.

once there was a brief lull as turns changed and you spoke, "i'm so sorry guys, could i take a bathroom break really quick? i'm really hydrated."

"go piss girl," tommy encouraged and you giggled before jogging away to the nearest restroom.

"so, spencer," angela spoke loudly. "bet you're feeling great right now." his entire body flushed--he knew exactly what she was alluding to, and the image of you entering in his hoodie with a grin flashed into his brain once again.

"actually, a little cold," he decided to sigh in response and the cast laughed out in response. he hoped that distracted them from the warmth he could feel on his cheeks.

"okay, sorry! i'm back!"

"that was quick," shayne laughed, brow furrowed. and then you came around the corner and his jaw hit the floor. spencer’s heart nearly stopped and his jaw dropped when you plopped back into your seat, wearing another one of his sweatshirts—the light green champion one he had been looking for for weeks. and, lord, if this wasn’t the best way to find it.

“i was wondering where that went!” he exclaimed, laughing amidst his shock. if no one noticed his blush before, there was no way they’d miss it now. “oh my god!”

you grinned evilly, and it was way too hot for spencer to handle amidst the chaos.

“you’re actually a klepto,” angela was saying when spencer could finally tear his gaze away from you and focus on his surroundings. you laughed out and he couldn’t think of a more beautiful sight than you doubling over in his crewneck. his mental camera was going to need new film after this.

they picked the game back up after this resuming the chaos that was slightly more amped from the hilarity of your thievery. there was another pause when alex called out, “hold on, guys.. y/n, can you come back here for a sec? it looks like you got the bad mic today.”

“of course i did,” you laughed, standing and moving behind the camera for them to correct. they all chatted on set for another second about something happening in the game before you came back in sight.

“YOU’RE ACTUALLY KIDDING!” angela demanded and you didn’t even make it to your chair before you were doubled over, face beautifully flushed in pride and hilarity at your own bit. spencer’s hands came up to cover his open mouth as he saw you donned another of his sweatshirts—the tan champion one he had literally worn yesterday.

if his face got any redder he thought all blood flow to his body would be cut off. his hands moved up to rake through his hair as he laughed out again, shaking his head. he was so giddy inside, and everyone's incessant laughter was only ramping up the hysterical situation and his adrenaline. "what the fuck!" he laughed.

"this should be a lesson to you," you spoke, pointing at him with a grin as you walked back onstage. "stop leaving your sweatshirts around! you know i'm the sweatshirt thief!"

"it's almost like spencer wanted this to happen..," shayne muttered and spencer shot him a glare, but it seemed you didn't hear him over something angela was saying.

eventually, the game picked up without any further interruptions besides the occasional jest about the situation, and it ended with spencer taking the win.

"well, it looks like the spencer is the real winner today," angela sighed. "in many ways." she looked back at you and you all laughed again before shayne took the lead on the outro.

after you all signed off, spencer's gaze moved back to you immediately. you looked back at him after a moment, still smiling in that mischievous way that had his head reeling. "i'm pretty proud of myself for this one."

"i can tell," he chuckled, horribly aware of how hot his face still felt.

"personally, i'm so impressed," shayne laughed and angela immediately agreed.

"i will say," you nodded, "spencer wins comfiest sweatshirts." the others immediately complained.

tommy hummed teasingly, "i feel that's a little unfair! you only tried one of everyone else's, but three of spencer's! he clearly got an advantage."

you giggled, "maybe i'll have to draw more samples from everyone to really tell. i'll start a dance moms style pyramid." they all laughed, talking about what you could do, but all spencer could think of is how he hoped he would be the only one who you took multiple sweatshirts from.

soon after the shoot, as he packed his things for the day, spencer's mind was still reeling. he felt like he was on cloud nine, but he wanted to keep riding it. he wanted to ask you out or tell you how pretty you were, but above all he had the deep urge to just kiss you and let that do all the talking.

you approached spencer's desk with a sheepish smile and three neatly folded sweatshirts in hand.

"ask as you shall receive, spencer," you sighed and he raised an eyebrow at you. "you were the only one who asked me when their turn was, so i made it extra special for you."

"oh," he chuckled, his heart beginning to race just as it did earlier. "well, it was very appreciated. and you looked great." it came out more sincere than he had meant it, but he was glad when he saw a flush rising to your cheeks.

"why, thank you," you smiled. there was a moment where you both just smiled at each other before you held out the small stack to him. "well, i wouldn't want to keep you from them any longer. thanks for playing the game."

he almost didn't want to take them. what he really wanted was for you to put them back on and kiss you and compliment you and spin you around. but after eyeing them for a moment, he opted to just take them. "i'll always play the game with you, y/n." yet again, it came out so much more sincere than intended.

after a beat where it looked like you may say something, you just offered him a small wave, "have a good night, spencer." and in a moment of panic where he thought this might be the best chance he has, spencer grasped your hand just as you turned from him. you turned your head back to him, looking down at your hands as you paused. you sounded a little flustered when you spoke, "was there something else?"

"um, yeah," he gulped awkwardly. he looked into your patient eyes as he tried to form some smooth talking to convince you into a date with him, but the smile you offered him only proved to scramble his brain even further. so, he resorted to what he had been thinking for most of the afternoon and tugged you close as gently as he could. he made sure there was no hint of disgust in your expression just before he took your face in his hands and kissed you with a passion he didn't think he had left in him after such a week. but you had revived that part of him from its slump the second you walked on set.

spencer could've collapsed when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders and your lips kiss him back with the same passion, if not a little more. it was like heaven to hold you, his hands moving so one was in your hair and the other held your waist, and it was even better to feel you pour your emotions into the kiss just as much as he was. he didn't know how long you two stood there, lost in the moment, but still wished it had been longer when you pulled apart for air.

he took a moment to think properly before speaking in a surprisingly level tone, "you've done a great job at flustering me all over the place today," you let out a surprised giggle, "i thought it was only fair to pay it back somehow." you laughed again, moving the inch forward to press your foreheads together.

"i definitely think you achieved that."

he smiled, praying you couldn't hear his heartbeat despite your closeness. "and i would love to repay it further. maybe with dinner?"

you hummed and the way you looked up at him, eyes shining with feelings he couldn't wait to decipher, nearly made him melt in your arms. "dinner sounds amazing. but only if it's carry out."

"oh, for sure," he nodded, leaning away from you so he could grab his keys off of his desk. he missed the closeness instantly. "we can eat at my apartment." he leaned down and picked up the sweatshirts he had dropped when he kissed you. he grinned as he offered them back to you. "but only if you wear one of these."

you let out a laugh and grabbed his legacy hoodie, teasing, "what, my fit isn't good enough for you?"

"oh, it is. you look great in everything," he assured, wrapping an arm around your waist as you two started toward the doors. he smiled down at you. "i just think we should pay tribute to what got us here." you hummed in response. "really, we should be thanking all the sweatshirts stolen."

"no. we should be thanking angela."

#smosh x reader #youtubers x reader #smosh fanfic #youtuber fanfic #smosh games x reader #smosh games fanfic #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfic #shayne topp fanfic #courtney miller fanfic #tommy bowe fanfic #damien haas fanfic #angela giarratana fanfic #anthony padilla fanfic

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drdocttor · 2 days ago

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i will not even lie to yall life has been a handful, BUT WE PERSEVERE!!!!! finally graduated, onto bigger and better things, and i got a little more time in my pockets. not too shabby!

but enuf about me, marvel rivals has claimed yet another future gambler, and with such a cool artstyle, how could it not! I decided day one that adam warlock was gonna be my main and by jove have i stuck by him. through thick and thin, he is my ⭐️ golden boy ⭐️ (haha get it because) that said, a few too many characters sport a dramatic edge worth-style haircut so i changed it up a bit, and tweaked the eyebrows, with inspiration drawn from gotg3 :))) idk what hes pondering i recall doing this pose myself and then my brain said wait… say that again…..

naturally below the read more is a bonus, doing some hypotheticals such as, ‘what if adam warlock was pop icon sabrina carpenter’ and ‘what if he wore one of them bodysuits’ what can I say i am an innovator

please please please don’t jump into combat with 2 health and expect me to heal you in time

#marvel #marvel rivals #marvel fanart #marvel rivals fanart #adam warlock

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nickythehickey · 1 day ago

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*emcee voice* hello sfth fandom, by the request of myself and literally four people (hi @not-an-idiot @very-confused-alpaca @chaostributary97 @bbatcat), i give you

my best attempt at a list of disability representation in the sfthverse

*for the purposes of the list, "disability" includes physical/mental/developmental disabilities, neurodivergence, chronic illnesses, and mental health conditions

*i went through and added as many as i could think of but easily could've missed some. also i can't get the patreon rn so there's no patreon exclusive characters, sorry. if you know of some more feel free to reply/reblog and i'll add them!

canon (either explicit or heavily implied)

bubba (inside the mysterious cube) is stated to be an amputee with prosthetic legs

peter steven (the milkman) is stated to have adhd; granted its a throwaway line but i think it's true. since adhd has a large genetic component, that implies that either janet or david or both likely also has it- my money's on david since peter seems to mostly take after him

post mortem, L (the creak in the attic) is mute and uses mime/sign language and possession as forms of aac

donnie (the detective vs. the christmas tree bandits), my personal blorbo, is explicitly stated to have adhd and a seizure disorder- likely photosensitive epilepsy based on the mentions of the lights in the strip club. "i was never good with numbers" could be interpreted as dyscalculia as well. frankie may also have adhd bc again genetics, but if he does he can mask like a motherfucker

chip (the cardboard stegosaurus) has an unspecified seizure disorder (although i can't find one that turns you french), and while she isn't present, we learn that his mother marie-claire was suicidal

queen of representation that she is, amanda (clarissa's diy wedding) is all but confirmed to have prosopagnosia, or face blindness

according to divorces and teddy bears, the entire north pole elf population has adhd. congrats on the diagnosis luke i mean snowball

"that one gas station man" as @doodle-ratz called him (the pilot's final flight) is blind

mrs jeffery (the milkman) was blind at the beginning of the scene, they ended up not going with that but she probably does still have poor vision

the bartender (the hare who wore a sweater) slut dropped so hard his knees exploded, and that's now a sentence i've said on the internet. im.... not sure what to count this as tbh, but as a person with vague undiagnosed joint fuckery myself, he makes the list regardless

they don't like... SAY IT say it, but john hobson (the creak in the attic) with the whole "thunderstorm killed my parents" thing probably has ptsd. like yall see it too right

based on body language, granddad (wine under the bridge) appears to use a walker, suggesting mobility issues

headcanons (still implied like at least a little bit but mostly up to interpretation, this is mine)

*(this one's messy, its more me sensing vibes than anything else, there's almost definitely some projection in there, honestly you can disregard it if you want. spoilers its mostly autism bc that's me)

frankie (the bard with a scar) says that he can't run fast, maybe implying mobility issues? i like to think so

i don't think their ages are ever established so i may be completely off base and they're just meant to be children, but jimmy (toby's secret pocket) and jeffery (party quirks) are both autistic teenagers/young adults to me. jeffrey specifically bc he reminds me immensely of how i acted the first and only time i threw a party

i get... a vibe. from titch (the unrelenting aubergine). im not sure what it is, but its there

fellow autistic people yk how there's this weird kinda split that happens where when you're a kid people think you're mature for your age but then once you're older people think you're immature? yeah johnny and janae (the neighbor's under the bed) are the extreme incarnation of that dichotomy

someone in the comments of ballet on the battlefield pointed out alexa stimming after she befriends janusz and i love that so im saying she's some flavor of neurodivergent

troll-son (wine under the bridge) probably has some kinda allegory for something idk

because of the way i visualize character designs for sfth, pretty much any character luke played while wearing glasses (like andrew (all eyes on nigel) or fullset o'hands) also wears glasses. im not gonna list them all just know they're included

i've been working on this list for seven hours. i feel like sysiphus (thats a very smart reference). im going to bed

#shoot from the hip #shootimpro #sfthposting #nick armchair diagnoses fictional characters #there's hcs so it counts #i did not scour every bit of content out there this is entirely my preexisting knowledge #so seriously if you think i left something out let me know

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ghostly-bat · 2 days ago

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This one is for @gosuckmydickgrayson simply inspired by whatever conversation we were having under a post (I don't remember which one lol)

Basically Jon's accepted the fact that Damian is pretty for a long time now but dumbly enough hasn't realized that his feelings go beyond physical attraction. Damian's only now realizing that Jon is hot, it's freaking him out and his blaming himself for not noticing sooner like the emotionally repressed bat that he is. (Like buddy where have you been??)

Their respective ages in this one are around 18 to 19 btw! Or super early twenties you decide uwu

---------

Damian's been going off about a mission that went absolutely off the rails for the past 15 minutes. Something about how no one listens to him, how they should because he's always right. Irey says that maybe if he said it nicer, they'd listen to him, and that just makes Damian throw daggers at her before he resumes his lecturing.

He is lecturing everybody, Jon included.

Jon, however, is not listening. He's had a hard time listening to Damian for years now actually. Though to be fair, he has had his moments where he would tune out Damian on purpose simply because he just didn't feel like hearing about how Tim took whatever was left of the Lucky Charms and left the empty box in the pantry.

But this was different. Because Damian could be telling him about whatever game he's been playing or whatever anime he's been watching, and Jon himself would notice the small beauty mark under Damian's left eye, the way his lashes frame his eyes, the soft and delicate features that are often paired with a stern look or an annoyed frown, the way his skin looks like it has almost no imperfections, and before he knows it, Damian is snapping his fingers in front of his face, bringing him back to reality.

It was in one of these many moments that Jon Kent realized,

"Holy shit... Damian's really fucking pretty," and it was for sure going to be his downfall.

When he realized around the age of 13 that his best friend was absolutely beautiful, Jon did his best to repress it; he did his best to not think about it because,

'Why would I find Damian pretty? He can be so bossy and arrogant'

'He acts like such a know-it-all, thinks he's right all the time'

'It's probably just puberty, it's nothing too serious'

These were things he told himself for the longest time. Did his best to find reasons to not think that Damian is pretty, but in all honesty, the last thing he wanted to do was admit that

"Oh my god... my best friend is pretty."

It's something that would keep him awake at night from the ages of 13 to 16.

It was something that would genuinely stress him out, something that would genuinely frustrate him to the point where, if Damian asked him to hang out, he'd make up some type of excuse like, "I'm going to my grandparents' farm this weekend" or "Sorry, D, my mom grounded me this week," because when he did hang out with Damian or when he was anywhere near Damian's vicinity, all he could do was focus on his pretty face.

Jon would stare at Damian wishing he would just get uglier, his life would be so much easier if Damian was uglier. But if he stared for too long his mind would begin to wonder about how long Damian's lashes have gotten and how cute his nose was.

He hated it.

Jon was so blaming Damian's mom for this. Why'd he have to look so much like her.

When he did decide to admit the fact that he found Damian really, really pretty, the first person he went to about his dilemma was Kon, and he wasn't much help because Kon's immediate first response was:

"Oh. So you like them mean and pretty, huh?"

The smirk that Kon was giving Jon told him everything he needed to know, and that was that Kon knew long before he did.

(And Kon had known that not only did Jon find Damian attractive, but that he clearly felt something more than just the fact that Damian was attractive. But that was something that Jon needed to discover for himself.)

Jon also picked up on the fact that Kon didn't just use the word mean to describe Damian, but he also used the word pretty, which could only mean…

"Wait... you also think Damian's pretty?"

"I have eyes, Jon. I know a pretty face when I see one, and so does everybody else."

Oh, and how true that was, because as soon as Kon said those words, that's when Jon realized that he definitely was not the only one who also thought Damian Wayne was pretty.

He proceeded to have another existential crisis about it.

And so, after the years of mental acceptance he's had to do, (he finally accepted it around the age of 17) he was now standing in the middle of the Watchtower, getting scolded with the rest of his team from the man he found absolutely stunning.

"I hope you all realize this is why we have plans; this is why we talk about strategy; this is why we don't react on impulse—"

"It got the job done, though."

'Oh, Tai... this is not the time to be talking back right now,' everyone collectively thought.

Damian stopped his rant for a brief moment, looked dead in the eye at his teammate, and said, "Oh, do not get me started on you—"

Damian liked things done a certain way, and everyone on this team should know that by now, but everyone on this team is also just as stubborn as the next.

So Jon stands there, alongside the rest of his teammates as they continue to get reprimanded, arms crossed and staring.

He sees Damian's lips moving, but... they look really soft. 'I wanna kiss him...' he thinks (oh, and that was a new thought he'd have to come back to later), and the way Damian's nose scrunches up when he's ranting about whatever is cute. Maybe it's just him, but 'Are Damian's eyes greener? They seem shinier.' Damian, in general, is really distracting.

And in that moment, Jon's brain decided that

'Hey, wouldn't it be great, just awesome to think your thoughts out loud!,'

So then, without thinking: "You're pretty when you're mad..."

Damian immediately stops and turns to look at Jon with a look that can only be described as horribly shocked and confused.

Everyone else also stops and turns to look at Jon.

And of course, Jon realizes a second too late what he just said.

There's a moment of silence before Damian speaks again because he needs to process what he just heard. He's shocked, bemused, and flattered? He is feeling everything in between, and it feels like he's in crisis mode.

"E—excuse me!?"

"I—"

"You—"

Damian was already red in the face, but it's for a completely different reason now.

"I—I didn't mean it!"

"You didn't mean it!?"

"I mean, I wasn't listening!?"

"You weren't listening!?"

Goddamn it, Jon really needs to get his foot out of his mouth. And he really needs to pay better attention because wait... when did Damian get into his personal space?

'Oh... his skin looks really soft...'

Now that Damian was closer, he could smell that smell that was oh so Damian. How he was fighting the impulse to cup Damian's face and simply admire him.

"Jon! Are you listening!?"

Oh yeah, he was getting yelled at.

Jon lets out a sigh; it's his own way of admitting defeat. Because it's been so hard keeping all this in for so long. And he already went ahead and said what he said so now seems like a better time than ever.

"I'm sorry, Dames... You're just really distracting..."

And Jon sees the red go from Damian's cheeks to his ears and down his neck. He also notices that Damian got shorter? Or maybe he himself got taller?

Yeah, that was probably it.

Damian at this point has absolutely no idea what to say. What could he say!?

He was confused and feeling so many things at once; he felt warm—in fact, everything felt warm.

'When did everything start to feel so warm!?' His thoughts felt like they were going into overdrive.

But wait... when did he get so close to Jon?

'Was Jon always this tall? There's no way I had to crane my neck up this high just to talk to him,' Damian thought.

He notices that Jon is slightly tanner; it makes his freckles more prominent. And his hair... it's longer, shaggier. It somehow suits him, making Damian feel some type of way. Oh, and those blue eyes, those pretty blue eyes with just a hint of violet.

Jon really is handsome.

It was kind of pissing him off.

And then his eyes begin to travel from Jon's face down to his chest, and almost immediately, he regrets it.

'His chest is... big... and his arms...'

Jon's suit wasn't doing much to hide it either. It seemed to be too tight now, and it was incredibly distracting.

Damian swallows; his throat feels dry now because when did Jon start filling out?

Why is he taller?

He was already tall to begin with! He doesn't need to be any taller!

Damian is now having an internal crisis and feels like he's going crazy.

He decides the best course of action is to take a deep breath and take five steps back from his best friend.

Emphasis on best friend, he reminds himself.

This action helps Jon relax a bit too, but then it's quickly replaced with confusion.

"Get a new uniform."

"What?"

"Get a new uniform before I make you one myself," Damian says through gritted teeth and with very clear annoyance.

"This whole thing has been absolutely ridiculous; everyone is dismissed!"

However, no one really leaves; they all just sort of stand there processing what they just witnessed as they watch Damian round a corner and disappear.

"... What the hell was that?" Kathy is the first one to break the awkward tension.

Jon just groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands out of embarrassment.

Damian is now left with the fact that he finds his own best friend, Jon Kent, attractive in more ways than one. And the fact that Jon clearly feels the same about him is making his brain melt just a little bit.

#this is what i did instead of sleeping lol its about to be 4 in the morning here ops #Count how many times I say pretty in this I really wanted to emphasize the fact that Damian is pretty LOL #i hope you like it tho! i actually had a really fun time writing this #jondami #damijon #damian wayne #jonathan kent #jon kent #writing #fanfiction #batman fanfiction

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tootysweetcheeks · 9 hours ago

Text

mmmhh interesting take indeed, I kind of see what you mean but honestly can't say I completely agree either!

I think it's a bit unfair to act like Natsuo half-assed it because he couldn't handle being around his father, when he was doing it to be kind to his sister and clearly loves her enough to at least attempt to be around a man that triggers him. It's unfair to assume he doesn't love her enough because of that! Also, if Natsuo's unfair for not being able to handle being around his father, then we shouldn't leave Fuyumi out of this because it's unfair to put her brother in this position too (I understand he could reject, but that's it he's kind, he's trying for his sisters sake). Especially when she knows how he feels and she passes his feelings off as him not letting bygones be bygones - said bygones being years of abuse/neglect, Touya's "death" and their mothers hospilisation!

Can't agree with abandoning his family part when he clearly didn't abandoned them completely, if he's still attempting those dinners and we know he cut-contact with Enji but he may keep in contact with the others. It also feels a bit icky saying he abandoned his family because at a young age 19(barely an adult), he went to college and got out of a toxic environment. Why should he stay in that toxic enviroment? when that won't help the situation.

The no-contact and having serious ramifications is definitely a possibility, and I guess if he was as strict with his no-contact being not even wanting to be in the same space then sure that could prove to be some problems BUT also on one hand it could also provide no problems! There are so many families out there in the world where two family members may not be on speaking terms or don't get along, but can still attend the same gatherings, funerals and weddings etc. abut choose to not interact with one another. Just because Natsuo has gone no-contact with Enji does not mean he cannot attend Fuyumi's or Shouto's wedding at all, he can simply attend and not interact with Enji because it's not even Enji's day so why would they even have to interact anyways? they wouldn't, and if Enji's true about his words of respecting his kids choices he'll choose to not bug Natsuo! A funeral it's the same thing, they do not have to interact but can still attend it. The literal compromise in these situations can literally be - Enji staying out of his way, they don't have to interact at these occasions! Also who says Natsuo has to visit Rei? she could easily visit him? or they can arrange to meet up at a resturant/cafe for a drink right? There's no rule saying those two can arrange around it, and if Rei wants to respect her child's wishes she would be willing to do so!

Natsuo is more like his father than he wants to admit...and it is both tragic and unsettling.

He does what he wants without regard for what the people around him want.

Sure, he'll go along with certain requests, like going to the family dinner because Fuyumi asked him to.

However, rather than be a polite host, he decides he'd rather embarrass his sister by being angry at their father all through said dinner and making things awkward for their guests. He didn't have to be there. Whoever he's talking to on the phone after the fact, maybe the girlfriend, he apologizes for bailing on their plans. He didn't even have to white-lie to Fuyumi. He straight up had other plans that night. So there are two ways you could look at this:

He conceded to a request to support his sister...then half-assed it.

Or he canceled his plans and went out of his way to be a prick.

He's not wrong for hating his father, that is 100% a normal reaction to an abusive parent, but he is wrong for not establishing his own concrete boundaries or respecting Fuyumi's.

Like Endeavor, Natsuo is pretty isolated within the family.

Mom’s out of the picture and contact with her is limited.

We all know what his relationship with his father is like.

His closest sibling 'died' when they were kids, but even then, Touya and Natsuo's relationship wasn't a good one. We know Touya spent years trauma-dumping on Natsuo, and little bro took it like a champ. Supporting one's siblings like that is admirable, but it does highlight a key difference between the brothers. Touya has memories of a happy childhood with their father. Natsuo does not. So he had to listen to his older brother crying for a past he knows nothing about, which had to have brought on a little resentment. "At least Dad loved you once. I never even got that much."

As stated above, Natsuo doesn't see eye to eye with Fuyumi. At least not enough that he respects her decision to forgive their father. Whether he supports that decision or not, he should love his sister more than he hates their father, and starting shit unprovoked over a dinner she asked him to be at is not a supportive decision.

His relationship with Shouto is hard to gauge. They were raised apart, sure, but they lived in the same house. So the fact that he didn't know Shouto's favorite food until he was fifteen is...odd. Natsuo never tried to have a conversation with him in passing? But I have a theory about that. With how Shouto behaved in the very beginning of the series, the mirror-image of their arrogant father, I think Natsuo had a, “Fuck, now there’s two of them," moment and actively avoided association with his younger brother. This may have contributed to him moving out even though he attends a college that's close enough that that he can casually stop by for dinner.

He Actually Does Get Violent.

Not with other people, thankfully, but he does slam his fist against the door in this scene, which is an act of aggression.

This makes for an intense moment in animation, sure, but if you saw a person do this in real life, you’d be nervous about where that fist is going next.

I already went over this in the Endeavor analysis that I made a few months back, but the gist of it is taking out your anger on inanimate objects is unhealthy because you're training your brain to associate anger with violence, which has the potential to make it harder to dissociate in the long run.

In his own way, he did abandon his family.

Fuyumi tells him to leave the family circumstances to her....and he just left her to it? She went to college to become a teacher and made a career work in spite of living in a volatile home. The series doesn't say where Natsuo is a student at, but he clearly lives close enough to home that he can drop by for a visit, so it's not like he went to some prestigious university out of town.

So yeah. Left his remaining brother and sister to their father.

The other point, though, is he's canonically studying medical welfare.

Medical welfare is the consideration of patient wellbeing, preserving individual dignity, promoting quality of life, and taking a holistic approach to healthcare that applies mental and emotional care to a patient, not just physical.

So it's ironic this is where his brother ends up and he says absolutely nothing about it. Nothing about promising to come see him, nothing about asking the staff if this really the best arrangement they could come up with, no promises to Touya that he'll figure something out. He just ghosts and, like their father, that is really hypocritical.

In the end, he puts his own hate and feelings above everyone else’s.

This one's pretty closely related to my first point, but it does bear reiterating for the finale. Natsuo's decision to never see his father again is ultimately going to hurt his family more than it's going to spite Endeavor. Going no-contact is a healthy choice and I don’t fault him for it at all. But if he sticks to it, it’s going to lead to some serious ramifications down the road.

If he's strict enough to refuse to be in the same vicinity as Endeavor:

He won’t attend Touya’s funeral and support his grieving mother and siblings if Endeavor will be there.

Since we see in the epilogue Rei stays with Endeavor, Natsuo visiting her is going to be complicated.

If Fuyumi gets married, she might want her father at the wedding. Is Natsuo going to skip his sister’s wedding out of spite?

If Shouto gets married and decides to let their father be there, same story.

If Endeavor outlives Rei, will Natsuo miss her funeral?

And finally, Natsuo might have to come to terms with the fact his own children may want to meet their grandfather, which is a decision he can only control until they’re legal adults. He can tell them how much of a monster Endeavor was all he wants, but those kids may still be curious about meeting the man in person, especially if they hear stories from other family members and know the former No. 2 and No. 1 is their grandfather.

I’m not saying Natsuo should forgive Endeavor, or even stop being angry with him because he has every right to his anger. But if he still wants a relationship with the rest of the family, he is going to have to exercise some form of compromise. Especially with his children because he unfortunately has all the hallmarks to become the next Kotaro Shimura. This is a society where kids want to be heroes, and then there's Natsuo who has a history with the dark side of hero society, no matter the good Shouto does.

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 days ago

Note

Wifey reacts when Joe accepted to participate at Netflix Quarterback serie

(This takes place in summer of 2024)

It was around ten at night and you were in your bathroom doing your skin care routine when Joe peeked his head in to see what you were doing. You saw him out of the corner of your eye before he said anything to you and demanded that he joined you.

You had noticed a blackhead at the top of his back this morning and was determined to get it off one way or another. If he wanted to be a baby about it and scream then so be it.

“Baby! Come here and do this face mask with me.”

“But…” Joe started to protest and you glared at him making him slowly walk in and stand next to you.

“Good. Now sit.”

After he sat down, you ran a warm wash cloth over his face and stole a kiss before putting on the face mask and setting another timer for when he should wash it off. Yours would probably be going off in six minutes and you started to place your face products that you wouldn't need anymore back in the cabinet when you heard his voice.

“Babe..”

“Yes, my love?” You replied as you put the last product away and turned to him.

Joe patted his leg telling you to come over to him and sit. Once you made yourself comfortable, he opened his mouth to speak again, but hesitated making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you wrapped an arm around him.

“I just want to get your opinion on something.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“I'm only asking because you're included in this and if you aren't comfortable you don't really have to do it, but…”

“Pookie, you're rambling. Out with it.”

“I said yes to being on the second season of The Quarterback. So it will cover the upcoming season.”

It was quiet for a minute and you looked at him confused.

“But, why now? What changed?”

“I mean if you tell me no, I won't do it.”

“I didn't say that. I just want to understand why you changed your mind. I mean ever since you came into the NFL, it has been all business with you. You keep things completely professional and don't really let people in about your personal life. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but baby, you hate cameras and you are only in front of them if you absolutely have to be. That show is pretty invasive privacy wise to your standards.”

“I know, but I had a talk with Peyton and it kind of opened my eyes more. This could end up being a good thing and I don't have to show anything that I don't want to. It can focus on me coming back from my wrist injury and how I'm starting to open up more and try new things.” He told you as you started to pick at the blackhead since you were at the perfect angle.

“As long as you are okay with it. You know I'm supporting you until the wheels fall off. I just want you to be completely sure about this.”

“I asked because you are obviously going to be in it when we start filming. You are one of the main reasons why I stay sane during the season. OW!”

“Got it! That blackhead had been bothering me all day. I just unclogged one of your pores. Can I at least get a thank you?”

“No.”

“But I can get a kiss right!?”

“You can have as many as you want once I wash this stuff off of my face. But on a serious note, thank you baby for always supporting me. I mean…. I honestly don't know where I would be without you.” He told you as he squeezed your hip.

“Aww, Shiesty, you give me way too much credit. You would still be a bad ass quarterback with or without me.”

“But with you, I'm better. I love you and don't you ever forget that.”

“Forever and always, babe. I love you more than anything. Now let's wash these off so I can get those kisses that you owe me.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joey b #joe burrow imagine #see me through you #joe x wifey shiesty #nfl imagine #joe burrow fanfic

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forestclan-clangen · 23 hours ago

Text

MOON 14 (FINAL)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

The Clan searches for Bracken, but they don't find her. However, Branchpaw manages to find traces of her smell, and brings back evidence of it to Riftpaw for confirmation of her identity. However, she overhears something from the medicine den that was likely meant to be said in confidence...

(Branchpaw, apprentice, female, 9 moons. Ambitious.)

---

Branchpaw was gonna do it. She was going to find whoever 'Bracken' was if it was the last thing she'd ever do. Ever since she learned that Riftpaw was separated from his sibling, Branchpaw had resolved to find them and reunite them. If she was separated from Perchpaw, she'd want someone to do the same for her. So the fact that days went by and patrols couldn't find anything made her feel more and more angry.

If they thought she was stupid, she wasn't. She knew many of the adults on patrol were pessimistic and probably thought some stupid tendril or Woodcrawler got them, or worse, and didn't have any hope that Bracken was still alive. They would always say platitudes and kindly tell her, "nothing around the border this time, sorry Branchpaw." Yeah right, they didn't even try. And she KNEW they weren't trying, because she had found something and by StarClan or whoever the hell was out there, she felt vindicated.

"Look, look! See, I told you! Around these herbs! Cat! A she-cat! I TOLD you she's around here - "

"Wait," Tree interrupted Branchpaw firmly and smelled the herb. They raised an eyebrow. "Hm. Two cats, actually. One of them is a molly, but I'm not sure about the other one."

"I smell that as well," Iciclepool noted with a flick of her tail. Her eyes flickered with cautious hope. "This is marigold. Windfur did say the young cat was surprisingly knowledgeable with herbs. Maybe she's with someone?"

"Then let's follow the trail!" Branchpaw bounced eagerly, tail flicking. Tree chuckled and they batted lightly at Branchpaw's head.

"Slow down, Fleetfoot. I don't think we'll get very far. The scent seems to trail towards the river."

Branchpaw looked at the border, and saw the trickling river muddying the scent. There were no visible paw prints on the other side - the trail must've been a day or so old. She felt the enthusiasm blow out of her like a flattened mushroom cap. She groaned in exasperation and flopped on the ground in wound-up fatigue.

"Come oooooon," Branchpaw whined.

"We don't even know if this is the cat we're looking for, Branchpaw," Iciclepool pointed out gently. There was a slight spark in her eyes as she said this, as though she had found a teaching moment. "The cats that were here may not be nearby now. But there is a way to find out if we found the right cats."

Tree seemed to have caught on to what Iciclepool was doing, and their whiskers twitched, impressed. Branchpaw glanced back and forth between the deputy and her mentor.

"Uh…can you tell me?"

"Nope, you're still technically in training," Tree chuckled. "This was a tracking session, remember?"

"Ugh, fine, hold on," Branchpaw rolled back onto her feet and stood up, the neurons in her brain firing as she tried to put two and two together with great difficulty. Her ears folded back in frustration. "Okay, so, the scent is tied around the herb. But the herb also has a scent. So…"

After a long moment of silence, Tree decided to take pity on their apprentice. "Well, it's not exactly on the herb, is it?"

The epiphany shot through Branchpaw like a lightning bolt. Her pupils dilated as she whipped her gaze to the nearby oak tree, and then nearly tackled a clump of moss growing on it. She then brought it back and started padding it around the ground to try and grab the scent.

Iciclepool let out a mrrow of amusement. "Slow down Branchpaw, hold on, you can just grab the leaf litter on the floor near the plant instead."

Branchpaw promptly tossed aside the moss and started gathering the leaf litter in her mouth. Branchpaw felt good about herself when the two cats mrrowed with laughter and guided her to carrying the leaf litter properly, and dig up the marigold to give to Windfur and Shiverstep later.

She was gonna do it. She was gonna help find Bracken, and presenting this smell to Riftpaw to confirm if they'd found her scent was one step closer to that goal. She suppressed the thudding in her heart at the idea that maybe they hadn't found Bracken's scent. It had to be. It just had to be her.

Branchpaw eagerly padded her way towards the medicine den, but her ears caught on something that made her stop in her tracks.

"No fair."

"Hmm?"

"No…fair," Perchpaw's muffled, jaw-locked voice repeated.

Branchpaw froze. She quietly moved aside from the den's entrance and ducked under the nearby ferns. She put down the leaflitter and pretended to be sorting the marigold from it.

Her ears swiveled trying to hear.

"Hmm? What is?" Riftpaw asked, equally muffled.

"This. Stupid brace," Perchpaw hissed. "Hate it."

"It helps," Riftpaw said.

"I know," Perchpaw groaned. Branchpaw heard Perchpaw's tail thrash on the floor. "But it's tight. And I feel it press against my skin. And my tongue won't sit right. Teeth stab tongue. It's just…"

Branchpaw's fur bristled. She stopped her fake sorting. She expected Riftpaw to say something, but he stayed quiet. Finally, Perchpaw finished her thought.

"It feels wrong."

Branchpaw felt her heart sink deeply in her chest. She thinks she heard Riftpaw say something, but his voice was too quiet and muffled.

Branchpaw felt a sting in her heart.

Perchpaw was quiet ever since her injury. She said a few sentences here and here. She chuckled politely, offered thanks, every small thing she could. Branchpaw didn't push her sister into talking to her about what happened - she figured that she didn't want to talk about it. But at least, she hoped that her littermate would trust her enough with her feelings.

Was it Riftpaw? She felt foreign envy for the cat. She thought it was jealousy, but her mom told her the difference between jealousy and envy recently. She didn't want to hurt the tom, nor did she feel like Perchpaw should only be talking to her. She was quite happy to have a new cat around their age to talk to! But ever since Riftpaw first woke up, it seemed pretty obvious that he and Perchpaw found comfort in the fact that they shared the same injury and were going to be forced to go through the healing process together. Branchpaw didn't want to be injured like them - not in a million years - but she felt like her sister would be more willing to open up to her if she were…well, if she were Riftpaw.

But why? You hardly know the cat. He's just some tom, Branchpaw thought in frustration. She paused and felt her heart tighten as she heard a reassuring purr coming from the medicine den.

"I'm sorry, Perchpaw. I really am."

Branchpaw sighed. Man, toms had nicer purrs than mollies. Barleywave and Windfur were always nice to listen to when they were relaxed or trying to calm someone. She wished she could have a voice like them.

…That wasn't weird, right?

Branchpaw paused. For some reason, her face turned hot. She blinked quickly. Then scowled. Why was she giving a mouse's tail about this right now? Her sister was in pain, and here she was, musing about fox-dunged purr octaves -

Adrenaline pushed her to her feet. She picked up the leaf litter from the floor and meowed repeatedly and loudly as she started padding towards the medicine den.

"Riftpaw, Riftpaw, Riftpaw," she meowed loudly. She thought she heard quick rummaging from Perchpaw as she burst through the fern curtain with wide eyes. "RIFTPAW, I have a thing," she exclaimed with a mouthful of leaves.

Perchpaw and Riftpaw looked at Branchpaw with surprise. Riftpaw's hazel eyes softened quickly, but Perchpaw tensed, her tail tucked close to her.

"What is it?"

Branchpaw promptly dropped the leaves near his head. "Do you recognize this smell?"

Riftpaw carefully brought his nose to the leaves. After a few moments, his eyes widened and his fur bristled.

"That's her! That's - ow, ow, ow," Riftpaw whined as he moved his mouth a bit too wide, pressing his chin on the moss around his bedding and pressing his paw on his neck.

Perchpaw perked up in worry, and Branchpaw winced. "Sorry! Tree, Iciclepool and I found this near a marigold patch. I thought it could be Bracken. I'm really glad that it is!"

Riftpaw nursed the pain in his jaw for a little while longer. When he next opened his eyes, a flicker of hope rested in them.

"She's okay. She's okay," he whined. "She's alive. Thank spirits that be, she's alive."

"We'll track her down, we swear," Branchpaw insisted. Her tail flicked with anticipation. She was going to help find Riftpaw's sister. The spotted molly glanced at her sister, hoping to meet the same look of excitement, only for her tail to lower when Perchpaw avoided her gaze.

Branchpaw blinked as she approached her. "Right, Perchpaw?"

Perchpaw nodded.

"Uh, right, hurts to talk," Branchpaw chuckled. She swallowed down the hurt in her chest. "I'll, uh, tell Redstar what we found! Tell Windfur and Shiverstep I said hi, if they come back," Branchpaw declared before swiftly leaving again, not waiting for either of them to answer.

Truth is, she didn't know what to say.

Knowing that Perchpaw didn't want to tell her how she felt did hurt.

She knew that she didn't have to. She didn't want to talk about the Fake Cat either, and cats kept pestering her about it. She didn't want to be another one of those cats.

She just wished she could let her sister know that she thought she was pretty no matter how she felt about herself. And she felt like she wasn't allowed to.

…Riftpaw better treat her sister right, oh so help her StarClan.

****

"Bracken," Riftpaw said quietly as he pressed his nose into the pile of leaves. The moment he smelled his littermate, it was like all his walls crumbled down.

Perchpaw didn't understand it.

From the moment Riftpaw woke up, he was in good spirits. She didn't understand that either. His jaw was broken and he was stuck with a cast, just like her, and could barely eat anything - which didn't help how skinny he was. For the first few days, she was shy and polite - she had never met an injured outsider before, and thought that he'd be wary of the Clan. Instead, he spent several minutes staring at everything in the camp - the walls, the cooking fire, the weaved branches that created the ceilings of the warriors and apprentice dens. He had asked Windfur timidly if the Clan had seen a dark grey tabby she-cat with brown eyes. Perchpaw was surprised when Windfur said yes, and he wasn't lying about it.

And he seemed optimistic. Riftpaw was happy - as much as a cat could be in his situation. She wanted to envy his positivity - but she couldn't. It rubbed off on her too. He joked about his condition, changing his story about how he got his injury every time someone asked. He dramatically fell over with a loud whine when Deerkit very lightly bumped into him once, and responded to every inquiry about how he felt with some variation of "I've never been better," with each iteration getting progressively more dramatic. It brought Perchpaw a small amount of comfort - made her feel like he knew how to handle these things, and maybe he could give her advice.

She didn't expect his attitude to change almost immediately.

She looked away from him uncomfortably. She didn't want to interrupt him or say the wrong thing. What could she say?

Riftpaw wallowed in his grief quietly. It went for long enough that Perchpaw felt obligated to at least say something.

"...I hope we find her."

Riftpaw opened his hazel eyes, tinged in sorrow. "I hope so," he mumbled. He pulled away from the leaf litter, then looked at Perchpaw. "M' sorry," he added.

"S'okay," Perchpaw mumbled.

Riftpaw's silence was heavy. His gaze was intense, clouded with memory. Finally, he spoke, his voice lisped and suppressed. "You have a good sister. She cares about you. She…she would understand how you feel more than anyone." He swallowed. His tone was distant. "S-So…tell her you love her. Okay? Just…remember to do that. Next time you see her."

Perchpaw felt her muscles tense. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

The two young cats looked at each other steadily.

Perchpaw couldn't help but trace her eyes over his injury.

The brace covered most of it. But she saw the long scarring of the gash that stopped underneath his chin. Part of his nose had a slit that didn't heal correctly. Part of his muzzle had patches of hair either torn or scratched off. She doesn't know.

Maybe with a few moons of time, he'd look fine. As though nothing happened.

Perchpaw was too afraid to know what she looked like. She avoided camp after it rained. She didn't want to see herself. She didn't want to see what her sister or mother saw. She didn't want to know. She couldn't know.

"Hey…you okay?" Riftpaw asked quietly. He must've noticed her intensity.

Perchpaw stared at him for a moment. She prepared to hum in affirmation. Her throat seized.

Come on. Come on. You're okay. You're fine, she mentally repeated to herself.

She still couldn't say anything.

Riftpaw's words bounced back into her head.

She would understand how you feel better than anyone.

No.

Perchpaw felt like she was ruined. Touched by the woods and permanently haunted by its presence. She still had nightmares. She couldn't move in them. A black shadow would approach her. Sometimes other cats sat and watched.

It contorted and bent out of shape before vanishing into the dark.

While her heart threatened to retch out of her throat, the roots would wrap around her muzzle. They would split, and slither around her teeth, her nose, her eyes -

She would wake up terrified of sleeping again.

Branchpaw couldn't know how that feels. She didn't want Branchpaw to ever know how this felt. She couldn't inflict this on her. Couldn't tell her how horrible and irreversibly corrupted she felt every waking moment. She was so, so afraid of the flailing shadow. She feared it more than she feared any Woodcrawler or Tendril.

She doesn't remember what happened next. She must've started crying. She must've, because Riftpaw had gotten up and dragged his nest to lie down next to her. He started purring in reassurance and comfort.

"I don't want her to understand," Perchpaw choked on her words, her body physically seized and she felt her throat retching. Her brace snapped and she felt pain surge through her jaw. It didn't hurt as much as the fear in her chest. "I'm all wrong. It hurt so much." Perchpaw suppressed a blubbering wail. She felt Riftpaw gently press against the top of her head, forcing her to rest on the soft moss and jaw rest that Olive and Branchpaw made for her. She hiccuped and reduced her cry to a pitiful whine.

She just wanted to help. And now she was like this.

She was so scared every time her sister said she wanted to help.

She prayed for StarClan to spare her sibling. She was already gone. But dear StarClan, please, spare her littermate.

---

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fishfingerpies · 2 days ago

Note

heyyy do you have any cute mclennon fic recommendations??

Okay first of all sorry I took a while to reply to your ask, I've been super busy recently and I wanted to have the time to write you a nice list of recommendations.

I'm not 100% sure what exactly you're looking for when you say cute but I'll give you some mclennon fics that are somewhat more on the fluffy side or at least have happy endings! Arrow Through Me by @inspiteallthedanger: Incredible story, beautifully written, and a really interesting premise that makes for a very very enjoyable read. I literally cried reading this but it does have a happy ending and is one of my favourite fics of all time, plus over 100k words!! Oh, also by them there's India, Actually: "When Paul sees John's reels from India, it's all just images of him. This leads to a revelation." Also really amazing and beautifully written! and when i touch you by @forthlin: When I read 'cute', this was the first fic I thought of. It's a little oneshot that is just so adorable that it made me squeal in a horribly embarrassing way that I probably shouldn't admit to lol Très bien ensemble by @javelinbk: Lovely little shorter fic that makes me grin every time I read it, it's so cute! Plus it's by one of my favourite authors, definitely check out their other works too if you're looking for more mclennon fics. Oh Dear What Can I Do? by @louiselux: I'm in love with this fic to be perfectly honest, every single sentence of it is beautiful. John kisses Paul at a concert and the fic goes from there, it feels really in character and realistic, it's so good. believe me when I tell you by @zilabee: Sweet shorter fic set in 1969 wherein John questions Paul about Oh! Darling after finding the original lyrics written as Oh! Johnny. Amazing writing (as always from tikk), and in my opinion the characterization is perfect. Past Tense by @revollver: Ohhh the tension and buildup in this one is so phenomenal. I've read it so many times, it NEVER gets old. Can't recommend it strongly enough, seriously. Things We Said Today by witheyesclosed: I read this one for the first time sort of recently and I absolutely LOST MY MIND over it. It's short and sweet and the pining is so tangibly intense. I'm going to stop there for now because this is already a pretty long list - not sure if these recs are the kind of fics you were looking for, but I hope you enjoy! If anyone wants more recs for beatles fics of any kind, send me an ask or a message anytime - I have tons more!! :)

#mclennon #mclennon fanfic #ao3 #fanfic #fic recs

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regretismyconstantcompanion · 1 day ago

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Albus took his time before responding, eyes steady on the fire, his features touched by a stillness that wasn’t silence, but consideration. He let Harry’s words settle—really settle—into the room between them, like they were meant to linger in the air a while before being answered. His fingers curled lightly around his cup, absorbing the heat, just as he seemed to be absorbing the confession, the honesty, and the heart beneath Harrys ramble.

"You say you’ve always been somewhat out of place," he began, his voice thoughtful, measured. "And perhaps that’s true, Harry. But listening to you now, it doesn’t sound like someone who doesn’t belong. It sounds like someone who has learned to carry many homes within himself. Hogwarts. The Burrow. The people who knew you without needing to understand every part of your past, or your pain. That’s a rare gift, to find people who see the whole of you—beyond names and prophecy—and choose to love you anyway."

He glanced toward the window briefly, where the dark Highlands pressed against the glass in soft, quiet folds, then back to Harry. "You’ve had something I envy, in truth. People who knew you young and true, before the world demanded things of you. Before fame or fate. I didn’t have that. Not really. Not after Gellert. And by the time anyone saw me as anything more than my name, I’d already built too many walls to let them in."

His voice wavered then, not with emotion exactly, but with a kind of honesty that came from seldom-used places. "You spoke of Ginny. Hermione. Ron. That kind of love and loyalty doesn’t fade, Harry. It may stretch across time and grief and impossible choices, but it remains. And it has clearly shaped you into someone capable of tremendous depth. Of compassion. Of love, even when it’s confusing. Even when it’s frightening."

He sat back, thoughtful again. "I won’t pretend this isn’t strange for me. You carry so many memories of a version of myself I’ve yet to become—or perhaps never will. You know things I’ve not yet lived, and feel things I cannot place in any linear way. But what strikes me most is not your knowledge of the future. It’s the way you speak of care. The way you’ve built a life out of the pieces handed to you, however broken or burdened."

He met Harrys eyes fully now. "You said I never treated you like the Chosen One. That I saw you. I think I understand why that matters so deeply to you. Because being seen—for who we truly are beneath the weight of expectation—that may be the rarest magic of all. And I want you to know that the way I see you now… is not through the lens of your fame or what you’ve done. It’s through what you’ve shown me since you arrived: your gentleness, your honesty, your restlessness, and yes, your pain. But also your strength."

Albus took another slow sip of his tea before adding, more quietly, "I don’t know yet what place I might have in this version of your life. But I do know this: if there is space for me, even just here in this moment, I am grateful. And if nothing else, I will do my best to make sure that you never feel out of place here again. Not while I am around to remind you that you are seen. Not for who the world says you are. But for who you choose to be."

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace that was across from him. The crackling of the flames was the only sound breaking the silence in the cottage that was nestled in the Scottish Highlands. It was isolated, miles away from even the nearest village. He had chosen it for that very reason, desperate for solitude even if it wasn't something that had been forced upon him. He had lost the duel against Grindelwald. He had known that had always been a possibility. There were equals after all and had known each other painfully well. They had spent that summer duelling, friendly but pushing each others boundaries. They had grown and changed and become more powerful but their tendencies had lingered. The fight had lasted well over an hour but in the end, Gellert had just gotten the better of him and managed to disarm him and send him flying backwards. His only minor consolation was the fight had left them both panting and injured. But it had been clear who the winner was. There was no backing out of the agreement they had made. His time in Nurmengard had been brief. A chance to recover from the duel before Gellert gave him an ultimatum. He could remain free if he agreed to leave Hogwarts and retreat from the Wizarding World. Albus had already known he would leave the school, for certainly he had lost that right when he had failed his students and the Wizarding World as a whole. He had agreed, knowing Gellert wasn't giving him a choice and not agreeing would result in either his death or being imprisoned in Nurmengard forever or the deaths of those he cared about. And so here he was, over a year after the duel. Staring into the fire, sitting beside a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Books had been removed from the overflowing bookshelves, scattered around the room. Some had been read, some he hadn't even yet opened. Plain parchment piled up on the desk. Few knew where he was and so letters came rarely. He had picked some of the fruit and vegetables he grew in a small garden he tended to. Perhaps he would make some jams and chutneys if he could find the strength and motivation. It came sometimes, mixed in with the heavy weight of despair that seemed to fill his waking hours. He had failed. He had let down the wizarding world and now he banished just beyond the world he loved so much. He knew what was happening there, of course. He did his best to learn of Gellerts ongoing plans and rise to power. Without him there, there was nothing to stop him. He knew the few Ministries that still existed moved against him but it wouldn't take much for them to fall. Everything would be lost then and Albus knew he was powerless to stop it. @johamfated

#harrydore #harry x albus

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e1e4n0r5 · 2 hours ago

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Their Little Plaything: 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader

Words: 4500

Synopsis: Cait and Vi try to earn your forgiveness...in their way.

Warnings: Bullying/mocking, power imbalance, FFF threesome, ANGST!!!!, fingering (r! receiving), strap-on, description of masturbation with sex toys, gaslighting/emotional manipulation, dub-con sex (r! is emotionally distressed throughout but never says no), dub-con filming of sex, oral sex (r! receiving, r! giving), mild degradation, dirty talk, praise kink, finger sucking, anal fingering (r! receiving), anal sex (r! receiving), double penetration with straps, that thing where one person uses their mouth to give someone a drink 👀

Notes: Poor Reader really goes through it, folks 😣

You sat at your usual corner table, quietly and miserably reading a textbook, trying to get back into your study habits, when a soft accented voice spoke.

“Sorry to bother you; are you Y/N?”

You looked up, really not wanting to talk to the pretty redhead with freckles. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry, we haven’t met before. I’m Maddie. Can we talk?”

You frowned. “I'm sorry, Maddie, it's not a good time for me. I-I’m just getting over a sickness-”

She ignored you. “Cait and Vi. Caitlyn Kiramman and Violet Lanes. You're with them, right? I was too, last summer. At least until they just stopped texting me.”

Your stomach twisted. Great. An upset ex. Just what you needed in your vulnerable state. “Maddie, I don’t know what happened between the three of you, and I really don't want to talk-”

She regarded you closely. “Have you found the cameras yet?”

Your heart stopped. “Excuse me?”

“In their house; in the backgrounds of some of the photos they send you...?”

In the house?! Where were they hidden? You hadn’t just had sex in the bedroom, they would have footage from all over the house.

Your jaw clenched. “Listen, I don't know what you're talking about-” you tried to deny.

“Do you guys have a group chat?”

“Uh...”

“What's it called?” she asked, tilting her head like a challenge.

“I don't think-”

“Is it called Plaything?”

You felt sick again, like the world was spinning. You had to swallow down bile. “How did you-?”

“Because that's what ours was called too,” she explained as she sat down across from you, holding her phone out to show you. It was a group chat history. At the bottom, it said ‘Unknown and Unknown have left the chat’, and at the top the name was clearly listed as ‘Plaything’.

She scrolled up to the very top of the chat for you. “Go ahead, have a read. See if anything’s familiar.”

You took the phone out of her hands, skimming through it as your own hands shook.

You [Maddie]: have either of you found my underwear? I can't find them

Unknown: those are ours now

You: what?! You can't keep them!

Unknown: And why not? We earned them last night. Several times over

You read further down to a few weeks later.

You: ok this has to stop, I'm running out of underwear! Are you guys going to replace what you've taken? Or at least give it all back?

Unknown: not a chance

Unknown: And don't get greedy, darling

You: I'm not being greedy but you've taken so many! I need them! I only have about ten pairs left!

Unknown: not our problem

You: It’s your fault though!! You take them every time

Unknown: So you think you deserve a treat?

You: I’m not trying to sound greedy or ungrateful but one of our families is super rich and could definitely afford to replace my stolen underwear 👀

Unknown: We’ll see. Maybe if you’re a good girl for long enough, you can have a treat

Your stomach twisted. That was exactly what Cait had said to you.

Still scrolling, you saw thousands of messages spanning a few months. And then, inevitably, you came across pictures. Checking the dates, they had been together for roughly the same amount of time as you had.

Maddie was more confident with the camera than you were, not afraid to get up close to it. One photo was a close up of her smiling, fucked out face, chin glistening with juices. Another video had her fucking herself with a toy whilst Vi stood over her and she ate her pussy, Cait obviously recording. Photos of Cait’s manicured hand squeezing Maddie's cheeks firmly, Maddie sticking her tongue out as her blurry eyes tried to focus on the camera. GIFs of them both fucking her at the same time, in the same position they had with you for the first time.

Disgusted and queasy again, you put her phone down on the table, a little harder than intended.

“What do you want?” you demanded, crossing your arms, trying to keep your coffee in your stomach.

She shrugged. “I'm honestly not sure-”

“Then why did you bother coming up to me? If you don't know what you want, why couldn't you just leave me alone?” you snapped.

She looked you over. “Oh, yeah, you’ve found the cameras. I remember crashing out like this when I found one in the kitchen.”

“Kitchen?!”

“Yeah, it’s hidden in the wall near that bit of island. Did they make you bend over it whilst they fucked you?”

Your heart broke. “They did all this to you too?” you whispered.

Maddie smiled at you in pity. “Oh, my love, I think they've done this to lots of girls. We're just the latest ones.” She raised her coffee cup to yours in a mock toast. “To the victims of Cait and Vi.”

“How many others are there?”

She sipped her iced latte. “Well, there’s you, then me just before summer. Before that was Kylie, in the spring. Andrea was last fall, so this time last year. There were a few others before that but I don’t know much detail. One girl left the university; she was so fucked up.”

“How do you even know all this?” you asked sceptically.

She smiled ruefully. “Exactly like this. Kylie came up to me and told me everything she’d been through, showed me the photos and videos too. The group chat called Plaything. A shocking pattern of behaviour from Cait and Vi, I have to say. Kylie was more investigative though, she was able to use social media a lot more thoroughly than I ever could. She could show you a presentation with a timeline if you wanted.”

You blanched. “What? How?”

“Well, it was quite impressive. Got to say, it did feel a bit stalkerish, but still impressive! If her degree doesn’t work out, she could be a PI. Basically, she compared photos and videos that the previous girls had sent her, to Cait's and Vi's social media. Like I said, a bit stalkerish, but a lovely girl nonetheless.”

Your head hurt and your heart broke. How many girls had they done this to?

Cait opened the door, looking at you in pleased surprise.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she smiled, letting you in. “To what do we owe this pleasure? Are you feeling better?”

You nodded numbly. “A bit.”

“Good, I'm pleased to hear that. Vi will be too; she's a bit of a germaphobe. But we've both missed you terribly.” She smiled down at you, and you struggled to stay angry. “Vi's in the shower at the moment. Shall we entertain ourselves until she's out?” she winked at you, leading you into the sitting room.

“Well, I was looking through some of the photos you sent me,” you said, getting your phone out and tapping through it.

Cait smiled. “Oh, yes? Which one was your favourite? Should we recreate it?”

“This one,” you turned your phone around to show her the image of the two of you kneeling on the bed, the one you’d showed Powder.

She nodded. “That’s a good one; you look quite lovely in that.”

You hardened yourself not to blush at the compliment. “Do you know what my favourite part is?”

“You tell me,” she instructed softly, her pupils dilating.

“This part,” you turned the phone back to you and zoomed in on a section of the photo, turning your phone back to her.

The playfulness left her eyes but she kept the smile plastered on her face, unmoving.

“You know what that is?” you asked.

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No,” she lied. “Enlighten me.”

“It’s a camera. More specifically, a HexTech Pocket Camera 3000. Brand new this year. Very expensive, almost six figures. Your parents’ money bought it though, I suppose. And I’ve already checked the manufacturer’s website: that little red light means it’s recording video.”

Cait said nothing. Her hands trembled slightly, so she crossed her arms.

“Except when you took this photo, you never mentioned another camera.”

“Is this going somewhere, Y/N?” she demanded stonily.

“How long have you been doing this? Recording me, during sex? Without my knowledge? Because I remember the first time you asked to do it. But now, I can’t imagine that being the first time you actually did it.”

She said nothing.

“Cait!”

“Piltover is a one-party consent-”

You laughed coldly in her face. “Don’t even try that. Don’t even fucking try that with me, Kiramman. You knew what you were doing was wrong. That’s why you hid it! That’s why you didn’t tell me you were recording, because you knew I wouldn’t have wanted you to! Who else has seen this?!” you screamed at her, brandishing your phone.

“No-one,” she replied firmly.

You scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that the girls who secretly films people having sex are so above showing it to other people?”

“I mean it: no-one else has, or ever will, see any of the photos or videos we have.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about you invading my privacy?”

Cait laughed bitterly. “You were very enthusiastic at the time.”

“For the sex! And the one photo that you specifically asked if you could take. Not for the recording you didn’t tell me about!” Your eyes were slowly filling with tears. “Why do you do it? Hmmm? Take sneaky videos of people? Is it some weird kink or something? Some fetish? A control thing?”

Cait rolled her jaw, looking away.

“How many other girls have you done this to?”

That made her head snap back. “What makes you ask that?”

“Who the fuck is Maddie? And Kylie? And Andrea?”

She took a breath, looking physically wounded from a blow. “They were a long time-”

“It was not ‘a long time ago’! You were with Maddie at the end of Sophomore year, that is not ‘a long time ago’, Cait, we’re Juniors! You were both fucking her for months, doing the same thing – taking sneaky photos and videos – but she never confronted you about it. Yes, she found out,” you snapped at Cait’s alarmed face, “She knew you were doing it but she never said anything because she didn’t want you to break up with her.”

“We weren’t in a relationship, there was no ‘breaking up’.”

“You ghosted her over summer break, blocked her number and socials, then came back this year and acted like you didn’t know her. And the reason you acted that way was because you found your new fixation. Me. You didn’t need Maddie anymore, you had me. Your new Plaything. Very unimaginative of you, by the way, using the same group chat name with us all! And yes, I’ve seen the messages!”

Cait staggered back a few steps and began to pace, laughing in discomfort. “You are being so…Dramatic right now, Y/N,” she said tersely.

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. It felt like your chest was splitting open. “I trusted you both. I actually thought-”

“Oh, please,” she cut in, rolling her eyes. “You like being wanted. You like being fucked by two women who know how to handle you, you like being our good girl. Don’t act like some innocent virgin now just because you found a little camera in the background of – what was, undoubtedly – one of the best nights of your life.”

You flinched. Your lip trembled.

She saw it. She went too far. And for a moment, something flickered in her eyes. Then she stepped toward you, slower now. Controlled. Calculating.

"You’re angry," she said, voice softening. “I understand.” Her tone dropped as she closed the space between you. “But you still want this.”

“Don’t,” you said hoarsely, taking a small step back.

Her hand came up, barely grazing your hip, testing you. “You came here because you wanted answers,” she murmured. “But I think you also came here because you want us to make it up to you. And we will, in the best way we know how.” Her hands cupped your shaking jaw. “You want us to take away the anger, don’t you, the hurt? You want to feel our hands again? Our mouths on you?”

You were shaking, but you weren’t pulling away. “You can’t seduce your way out of this,” you whimpered as you cried.

She chuckled throatily. “Well, let’s just see if we can.”

And then she kissed you. Hard, possessive, without apology.

And God help you, you kissed her back, even as the tears streamed down your face. How could you be so weak? How pathetic could you be, giving in after a single kiss and some sweet words whispered in your ear.

She pulled your dress up over your hips, squeezing your ass firmly, kneading your flesh. You whined into her mouth. She pushed your bag and jacket off your shoulders, pulling your dress all the way up, breaking apart from your mouth briefly to throw it over your head.

You realised you still held your phone in one hand. You pulled away, sniffing, looking for somewhere to put it down.

“No, baby, come here,” she urged softly, pulling you by the hand to a nearby chaise longue. She sat you down, pushing you back gently. Settling herself between your legs, she kissed your stomach and breasts, squeezing them tenderly.

“Open the camera, sweetheart,” she ordered, looking you in the eye as she sucked one of your nipples through your cream lace bra. A treat from them, they liked you in white underwear.

“What?” you asked shakily, your face still wet with tears.

“Do as I say,” she said firmly, switching to your other nipple.

With a whimper, you obeyed, opening your camera app.

“Put it on me, baby, and take whatever you want. As many photos and videos as you want. We’ve got all night.”

Your lip trembled as you wanted to say no. But she gave you her stern look that melted away all your resistance, and with a sad hiccup, you pressed record.

Looking straight at you through the camera, Cait kissed down your stomach until she got to your covered pussy, never breaking eye contact with the camera lens as she slowly, seductively, eased your panties down your legs, looping them a few times around her wrist.

“Do I look good, baby? Is the lighting okay?”

You nodded weakly, watching her through your screen.

“So does this,” she pressed a kiss to your clit, “look okay?”

You whimpered, “Yes.”

“And this?” She licked up your slit.

You whined. “Yes.”

“What about this?” She wiggled her tongue over your clit from side to side.

“Fuck!” you cried out. “Yes! Yes, that's good!”

She laughed. “Just wanted to check.”

She closed her eyes and started feasting on your pussy. Licking up and down your slit, sucking your clit, sliding her tongue inside you. All the while, you panted and cursed, still pointing your phone at her. Every so often, she would open her eyes to see if you were still recording. When she saw you were, she winked at the camera, emboldened by its presence.

“What’s going on here?” asked a playful voice.

Vi.

You looked up from the camera, seeing Vi leaning against the doorjamb, a pristine white towel around her waist. Just peeking out the top of towel was a black harness, barely visible. She was strapped up.

She approached you both, the outline of the strap becoming visible through the towel. Cait didn't respond or acknowledge her girlfriend, just kept eating your pussy, moaning into your skin. Vi knelt next to the chaise longue, stroking your tear-stained cheek.

“Are you sad, baby?”

You nodded pitifully, your cheeks still wet and puffy from tears.

“But how can you be sad when you're getting your pussy eaten?” she mocked, licking away some tears.

Before you could respond, Vi captured your mouth in a deep kiss, swirling her tongue with yours. Cupping your jaw in her hand, she moaned into your mouth, sucking your tongue. You moaned back, your hips starting to move against Cait’s mouth.

“You gonna cum for her, sweetheart?” Vi asked, running a hand over your breasts.

You nodded breathlessly. “Need to cum.”

“How badly do you need to cum?”

You groaned when Cait slid her fingers inside you. “So bad! Need to cum, Vi.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we could let you. I suppose?” she taunted. She cupped your breasts over your bra, feeling their weight in her hands. Bending down over your chest, she pulled your bra down, kissing and licking your breasts. “Fuck, your tits are perfect,” she breathed, pulling your nipple into her mouth, sucking deeply. The pressure made you gasp, your pussy clenching on Cait’s fingers. Switching nipples, she tugged the one she just released.

“Gods...” You whimpered, moving your hips into Cait’s face. She moved to your clit in response, sucking your button and flicking her tongue over it. “I need to cum, I need to cum!” you gasped.

“Ask nicely,” Vi commanded, taking hold of your throat.

“Please let me cum, Vi! Cait, please!”

“Your decision, Cupcake,” Vi said to Cait.

The blue-haired woman took pity on you, sucking your clit harder and working her fingers faster. With a cry, you orgasmed on the chaise, your hips rocking back and forth as your free hand held Cait’s head to you.

Vi eased the phone out of your hand, moving down to kneel next to Cait. She filmed Cait’s fingers slowing down inside you and spreading your lips to expose your leaking hole. You squirmed uncomfortably under them, watching them watch your pussy. It was hot – seeing them almost obsess over you – but you also felt very exposed. Vulnerable. The rabbit in front of the wolves.

Cait scooped up the last of your juices on her fingers. Vi flipped the camera to use the front lens, recording Cait slide her fingers into her mouth, moaning as she got her first taste of you, your bare pussy and spread legs still visible in the shot. Vi kept eye contact with the camera as Cait thrust her fingers in and out of Vi’s mouth, eventually sliding all the way in and hitting Vi’s gag reflex. After that, Cait withdrew her fingers, and Vi stopped recording.

You made it upstairs, and the hours that followed were delicious yet emotionally draining for you. Vi and Cait seemed to want to overload you with orgasms, but never stopped taking photos and videos. Always in your view, always announcing when they picked up a phone or a camera. ‘Let me take a pic, baby’, ‘You look so perfect, I have to save this’, ‘Let me show you what you look like, sweetheart’.

While Vi lay back on the rug in the middle of their bedroom, you straddled her and slowly slid down the strap. But only after Cait announced the camera she had set up on the floor between Vi’s bent legs, offering up the perfect view of your pussy stretching over and sliding down the silicone.

You suddenly became conscious of the view that would be captured, but Vi’s hands on your face and firm kisses distracted you long enough to get the toy into your pussy. She held your mouth to hers, intertwining your tongues, until she could hear you panting for breath. She released your mouth, but held your head looking at her.

Cait moved behind you – which you couldn't see because of Vi’s grip – and you heard something screwing open, followed by a wet sound.

“What’s happening?” you asked Vi, panicking as she held your head and neck tightly, not letting you look around.

“Don't worry, baby, it's fine,” she said softly, slowly starting to move the toy inside you. But it did nothing to comfort you.

“Vi, please,” you begged, starting to cry again. “Cait, what are you doing?”

“It's alright, sweetheart,” she said, stroking your back hole with her fingertips, rubbing the expensive coconut oil around your ring.

You gasped when she did, jolting against Vi, who had the strength to keep you in place.

“See?” Vi soothed. “Nothing to worry about. We've done this before.”

“Breathe for me,” Cait instructed softly, lining up her fingers to your hole. Vi helped you breathe, then Cait slowly slid two slick fingers inside you. You whined when she did, already feeling full from the toy in your pussy. “Rock for us, sweetheart,” she asked, rubbing her hand over your hips. Vi moved one hand to your hips, helping you grind between her toy and Cait’s fingers.

An involuntary moan escaped your lips, the slight stretching in your pussy and ass making your clit throb as you rocked your hips. They praised you well, possibly hoping to ease your tears. It didn’t work. Your tears kept pouring even as you moaned, your body taking over. Maybe because it felt so good? Maybe to protect your heart from breaking?

Cait settled on her knees behind you, rubbing the tip of her slicked strap against you. “Ready to do this again, sweetheart?” she asked in your ear, already sliding into your ass.

You keened, long and low, as she filled your ass, rubbing up against Vi’s strap in your pussy. You sobbed at how good it felt; hating how good it felt, how good they made you feel. Vi kept kissing you, ignoring your tear-stained cheeks, rocking her hips under yours.

You came three times between them before they did, your traitorous pussy leaking juices over them every time.

When she finished, her own cum coating her thighs, Cait withdrew from your ass, getting up from behind you, knocking the camera over. She headed into the bathroom, sweat coating her brow. She took off her strap, washed her hands and face, and poured a glass of water.

Heading back into the bedroom, she approached you both.

“Sweetheart, you need a drink,” she said softly.

Draped on top of Vi, her strap still inside your pussy, you moaned weakly. You struggled to prop yourself up, but managed eventually. You waited for Cait to hold the glass to your lips, but she didn’t.

She held your jaw, her thumb stroking your cheek. “Do you forgive us, baby?” she asked softly.

Fuck you.

The words burned in your chest, and your eyes burned with tears again.

Seeing your distress, Cait smiled. “It’s alright. It’s okay. Here,” she held up the glass to your lips, letting you drink slowly as you glared at her.

When you swallowed, Vi gently rolled the two of you over, her strap never leaving you. “Give me some,” she asked Cait. She swallowed a few gulps, then propped you up in a half-seated position under her, her muscled arm supporting your torso without issue. She took a mouthful of water, keeping it in her mouth, and pressed her lips to yours. To your surprise, she forced your mouth open and shared the water with you.

You coughed and swallowed, not expecting that. You couldn’t tell if you liked that.

She did it again. Taking another mouthful from the glass, she pressed her mouth to yours again. Knowing what to expect, you opened your mouth, more prepared the second time.

Vi nodded at Cait to finish the glass and go get some more. She looked down at you, nudging her hips into yours. “Ready to go again?”

Hours later, Vi angled the camera on the coffee table at the side of you so you could see.

“What about this, baby?” She straightened up behind you, showing the camera the sight of her behind you, your ass in the air, your back gracefully curved. “Do you like how this looks?” she asked, giving a few small thrusts inside you.

How was she not tired?! You were exhausted and aching, sure your pussy would soon be swollen shut.

You moaned, gasping when Vi slid deeper into you, able to tell the depth from the side-view in the camera.

She chuckled. “I’m so deep, baby. So deep inside you. Put your hand on your tummy, do you feel me?”

You moved your hand to your lower stomach, gasping when you felt movement under your palm.

Vi laughed. “Now, do you want the rest?”

Your head almost shot round.

“Yeah, baby, that's not it,” she slowly moved a little deeper, making you groan as she went deeper than you thought she could.

“Can I hop back in?” Cait teased, rubbing her clit in front of you.

You wanted to say no, that you were still so fucking furious with her, that she didn't deserve to have her pussy eaten. But as she stroked her beautiful wet pussy in front of you, your mouth watered, and you wanted her.

You nodded, lifting your head a little. She sat down in front of you, spreading her pussy open for you. You pulled her hips forward and latched onto her clit, sucking like you hated her. She gasped as you did, unused to the pressure from you. She rocked against your mouth, running her hands through your hair.

“God, baby,” she moaned, “you’re so good at this.”

“We taught her well,” Vi bragged.

You wanted to shout, to scream, to bite. But you didn’t. You rocked back against Vi as she fucked you with her strap, and you fucked Cait with your mouth and tongue. You got her moaning like a whore, then slowed down your attention until she begged for more. You repeated the cycle, tormenting her, and she let you.

When she came, you forced her to do it again. Vi picked up on what you were doing, wrapping her hand in your hair.

“Don’t get cocky, baby,” she scolded. “Don’t make me fuck your ass harder than this.”

They fucked you until the early morning, until all of you had nothing left to give. You’d passed out together on the floor, wrapped up in a pile of limbs.

You eventually woke, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking around the room. Toys discarded, an empty glass of water knocked over, the small camera discarded and out of battery.

Cait roused next to you. “Do you feel better now, sweetheart?” she asked, kissing your shoulder.

You didn't say anything, just sat up. “I want to see all the photos and videos you have of me.”

Cait tensed a little beside you, but recovered. “Absolutely. Why don't we have a little watch party tomorrow-?” she asked, trailing her hand up your back.

You glared at her over your shoulder.

She removed her hand.

You gingerly got to your feet, walking unsteadily off to the bathroom.

Vi and Cait watched you go, the latter tapping her nails on the floor in thought, your panties still looped around her wrist.

“Don't think she's forgiven us yet,” Vi commented quietly, curling up around Cait.

The blue-haired women hummed. “Give it time. She will.”

@sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover

#arcane #vi arcane #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #arcane au #arcane league of legends #arcane violet #caitlyn kiramman #their little plaything #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x vi #vi and caitlyn #caitvi #caitvi x reader #arcane caitvi

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ablobwhowrites · 2 days ago

Text

Rainy day

(a little silly fic I made cause I like making baker y/n stuff.)

Today was such a good day as it was one of the non schedule days that y/n rarely had and they mostly spent them staying inside and not doing anything except for going outside when their cake hound needed too but today they wanted to go outside for a bit. Y/n walked around the kingdom seeing new stories opening as well as they saw cookies walking around, feeling the sun on their dough and the nice cool air. It felt nice having alone time even on a small walk, y/n walked to the small plaza in the middle of the kingdom and y/n sometimes wonders if the sugar gnomes ever get tired of building so many things for the kingdom. Y/n sat on the bench and leaned back to think about this for a bit as they got more puzzled from how many questions they thought of as like 'because I'm a cookie does that mean I have all my organs or do they change? What's cookie anatomy? Their baked so how do they have blood?' as y/n pondered this, they didn't see the rain clouds forming and suddenly rain began to fall. Many cookies rushed inside as they didn't want to get soggy with little cookies rushing along side the others for shelter but y/n still say alone in the plaza as they got up to go back home, they stopped. Looking at the rain forming puddles on the ground and then to their hands but instead of their new dough skin absorbing the rain like how other cookies experience it ran off their hands and y/n questioned it more as they walked back home. Along the tiled sidewalks that strung all around the kingdom were puddled forming some small and others bigger. Y/n was going to take the short cut back home but the puddles on the sidewalk where on the long way home and y/n looked to the path they would go for a more faster way home but then to the side walk filled with the puddles that differ in size and y/n knew what they should pick.

Almond cookie hung his coat on the coat hanger and Walnut Cookie's as well. "Alright go dry off, I don't want you catching a cold." Almond cookie said as Walnut cookie ran off as her hair was soaking wet from how long the was back to the house as well as almond cookie was but he also didn't want his daughter to get sick or soggy because of the rain. Taking off his shoes and was about to go into the living room, he stopped as he heard laughing? Almond cookie opened the curtains a bit to looked out the window as he went into the living room and saw y/n laughing and giggling to themselves as they jumped into puddles, splashing then and running into other ones to jump into them to try and get a bigger splash. Almond cookie smiled as y/n looked so happy while just messing around like a little kid would if they got to play in the rain "Hey dad! Can we watch, cookies and crime! A new episode is about come on!" Walnut cookie squealed in excitement as almond cookie looked away from y/n to walnut cookie. "Alright, we can." Almond cookie smiled as Walnut cookie cheered and ran to the TV for the remote, He looked back outside and saw as y/n continue to splash in the puddles as they went down the sidewalk, He smiled close the curtains and went to sit down.

Y/n continued their little quest to splash in every puddle that was in their way until they reached their front door. Y/n was soaked and quickly went in as their cake hound excitedly ran up to them and barked happily, y/n laughed a bit with a big smile on their face "hi buddy, you missed me? I guess I took to long outside." Y/n said as they took off their jacket and shoes at the door to quickly go change into something dry and comfortable. After changing y/n went to sit in the living room with their cake hound following close behind and sat right in their lap when y/n chose a chair to sit on after getting a book to read, y/n pet their cake hound head as it wagged their tail and got comfortable in their lap. The light form the lamp that illuminated the room with a soft light that made the room feel more welcoming with y/n relaxing against the plush chair.

'Today was a nice day' y/n thought.

(that's it for this story today. But hopefully you guys liked it and if you want more please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's you have! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

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sydwritess · 2 days ago

Text

Tattoos

Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

Summary: Lewis is looking to have some of his tattoos touched up before the race, but he can't find anyone. Hearing this, you then offer to do it, having experience. He doubts you at first, but then proceeds to be in love with your work.

First Person POV

Lewis and I have been together for a couple of years now. Things have been going smoothly, even if his world is chaotic sometimes. As a racer, he's always expected to be on top of things, perfect, professional, but there has been times when he's not. But in all reality. Who is?

Right now me and him were in the lobby of some building talking to Charles, waiting for their interview station to get set up.

"What are you thinking for the outfits tonight?" Lewis asked Charles.

"I have some in mind." Charles said smirking.

"Mate, you better not make me look like a fool now." Charles said smiling.

"I won't I won't." Charles said laughing.

"I'm trying to get in to someone to see if they can touch up my tattoos before the shoot. Want to look fresh and all you know." Lewis said, looking down at his hands.

"Does anybody take walk ins anymore?" Charles asked.

Lewis shook his head. "No, that's why I'm hoping someone can fit me in but... it's a lot." He said. I looked up from my phone at Lewis.

"I could do it." I said.

"You?" Lewis said.

"You say you like I'm a disease." I joked. Charles laughed.

"No no, not what I meant. Go ahead." Lewis said.

"Yeah, me. I'm the one who did my cousins." I said.

"Your the one that did her full sleeve?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah, I did."

"Wow."

"Don't be so surprised." I said.

"Hm, I don't know. I was kind of looking for someone a bit more... professional." He said slwoly.

"i am the queen of professional." I said.

"Sure, but do you even have the materials?" He asked.

"Yeah, at home. Where my professional state is." I smirked. He thought about it for a moment.

"Hm, alright." He said slowly. "But I'm having Charles there for an eye witness." He said.

"Now you act like I'm going to kill you." I said. We all laughed. Just then, their names were called to the stage.

"See you old man>" I said, as Lewis walked away.

"I am not old! He shouted from across the room, I laughed, watching them do their interview from the other side of the room.

"Lewis, Charles, nice to see you both again." the man said.

"Lewis, already off to a certain topic. You just shouted your not old, some of a audience caught that. Mind telling us?" The guy asked.

"Yeah, you see, my lovely girlfriend over there called me old. Clearly I'm not. But you know. Whatever you see at the eye." He says laughing. So did the audience.

"Well, you don't look at all old to me." The man said. I mouthed the words 'suck up.' to Lewis.

"Think she just called me a suck up over there." Lewis said with a smirk. Charles was laughing loudly at the conversation.

"Charles, you seem to be enjoying this." The man said. Charles shook his head while laughing. The rest of the interview went on, talking about the cars, the track, different tires, all different things.

"Well, Charles, Lewis, great having you here, thanking you for sitting down with us." The interviewer said, getting up to shake their hands, they both walked out into the lobby area.

"Great. Now we can leave finally." Charles dramatically expressed, sitting down on the bench with a large sigh.

"Mate it wasn't that bad of a day." Lewis chuckled at his friends state.

"Ugh, yes it was. People have way to many of the same questions." Charles laughed.

"Alright, shall we go then?" Lewis asked. Me and Charles nodded, standing up and walking outside. We walked out to the circuit parking lot, all piling into Lewis's car.

"Where first?" Lewis asked.

"My house. I have to pick my things up." I said. He nodded and drove to my house. We got there in a quick time and I went inside to get my supplies.

"Wow, I should have you decorate my house." Charles chuckled, looking around the house.

"Takes a lot." I said smiling, walking to my bedroom. I got everything that I needed and we went to Lewis's house.

"Where should we do this?" He asked, taking his coat off, hanging it by the door.

"Probably the kitchen table. It'd be the easiest." I said. We all walked in there, and I got my stuff set up. putting a paper towel under his arm, filling the ink dishes up, and getting the tattoo gun set up.

"I'm scared." Lewis mumbled.

"I would be. And old man like you has Carpal Tunnel, Could be shaking a lot." I said smirking. Charles laughed a bit, taking a seat next to Lewis.

"Okay okay. We get it, I'm so old and frail." Lewis laughed out with Charles.

Lewis put his arm out on the table and I started tracing over his tattoos. I got about a good 30 minutes in when I notice him squirming in his seat.

"Are you good?" I ask, bringing the needle away from his hand.

"God, this hurts like hell." He said, letting out a breath that had been held for a while. I notice Charles next to him chuckling.

"God, I am enjoying this." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink.

"Maybe you should get a tattoo." Lewis said.

"I so would." Charles backed.

"Good, after me, it's him. Make his hurt worse though." Lewis smirked.

"Oh I should, should I?" I said teasingly. I continued working up Lewis's arm and he eventually calmed down from the pain.

"Why do you do that?" Charles asked, as I wipe Lewis's arm with mark removal and a towel.

"It helps me see better. Because it clears up the lines." I said. He nodded along. I started working again, after taking a break. Lewis started to move, I was working on the back side of his arm which was more bone, so it made sense.

"Do you need like numbing stuff?" I ask.

"No why?" He asks back.

"Your moving around like crazy." I said giggling.

"It hurts!" He backed.

"Well stop moving. I don't want to mess up." I said, getting back to work. "After all, my name is going on your body." I said.

"Your name goes on my body ever couple of weeks darling." He backs.

"Ew. That's disgusting." Charles commented, taking a sip of his drink.

"Mate, she's the one who braids my hair." Lewis said, smirking.

"Yeah get your head out of the gutter." I said.

"Hey, my head wasn't in the gutter. You made it sound like that on purpose." He said, pointing to me and then Lewis. A couple of more minutes went by and I was finally done. Getting a towel and cleaning up his arm again.

"There you go." I said, putting the towel done.

"Wow. This actually looks... really good." Lewis said, inspecting his hand and arm.

"Told you I could do it." I said smirking.

"Alright. But you still did cause me pain." He said, smiling.

"Alright, you ready for the shoot finally?" Charles said standing up.

"Yes. Let's go. And I have high hopes that you won't make me look bad, yeah?" Lewis asks. I take care of my things and we all get in Lewis's car, driving to Charles house.

We got there in a quick time, got out and went inside. Charles went straight to his room, running down his stairs with a handful of clothes, smirking proudly.

"Right mate. First one is this." Charles says, holding up a pair of black dress pants, a black dress shirt, and a long, black coat.

"Oh yes. This is my brother Arthur. He's going to be taking the pictures." Charles says, introducing Arthur.

"Wow, you are like identical." I said. Charles just laughed.

"Nice to meet you." Arthur said, shaking my hand.

"But way more polite to." I said.

"Woah, I am tons of polite mate." Charles said, putting a hand on his chest.

"Oh boy." Lewis says. Grabbing the hanger and going into the bathroom to change.

I give Charles a suspicious look, and he just smirked.

"Don't worry. He will look great." Charles said, holding up the okay sign.

"Alright." Lewis says, walking out of the bathroom. "This isn't half bad." He says, adjusting the collar of his jacket. Charles just nods and smiles, and he tells Lewis wear to stand in the house. Arthur took a bunch of pictures of Lewis, having him stand in different positions.

"Alright. Next one." Charles said. Next he handed him blue, baggy jeans, and a tan Ferrari sweatshirt. Lewis went to go change, came back out and started shooting again. This process went on for a good hour or so, tearing through many different outfits, getting many good pictures.

"Alright. Thanks for doing this mate." Charles said.

"Anytime. I'll see you tomorrow." Lewis said, saying goodbye to to Charles and Arthur before we leave. We were in the car, driving back to my house, it was pretty much a quite ride until we pulled into the driveway.

"You did great today." I said smiling.

"Thanks. You did to. This looks amazing." He said, holding up his hand.

"Well, it was just tracing over lines." I said giggling.

"I know, but still, it's major talent." He said smiling. "Will I see you at the track tomorrow?" He asked.

"Of course. You know I will be there." I said.

"Great. I'll text you when I'm home, yeah?" He said.

"You better." I said smiling. Leaning over the console to kiss him.

"I'll see you." He whispered against my lips.

"Bye." I said slowly. Opening the car door and walking inside.

Hey loves! First Lewis imagine! Hope you like! Comment to be added to the f1 tag list!

#writing #writers on tumblr #creative writing #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton f1 #f1 x you #f1 fluff #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

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