#tw: football

[kyuusou]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[republicanidiots]

Nicole Simpson would be 64 years old if Simpson hadn't murdered her.

Fuck mourning OJ Simpson. He was a football player. Nicole was a young woman with children who tried to get away.

Here come the journalists weighing in about OJ Simpson's "complicated history" -- it's not complicated. He killed his wife because she wouldn't take his abuse.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

���Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[woodsy-hoe]

fuck the super bowl, i’m watching these two dudes duke it out today

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Jock X F! Bookworm! Reader

Pt. 2 Pt.3

TW: Non-con, dubcon, spankings, mention of isolation, bribery

A/N: I’m excited to write my first smut like this. It was a much needed writing exercise.

Kofi: Wanna buy me a coffee?

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

You were always a bookworm. You didn't like talking to other people much, but you value the few friends you have. That was until he came along. The school jock, the lightly tanned skin with sun-kissed hair boy, with six-foot stature. Along with muscles to match his build. He rarely came by you, but that day fate decided to let his eyes shine down on you in your corner of the library.

He grabbed a book about muscle mass and sat next to you in the blue bean bag.

"Have I seen you around anywhere? You look familiar," He asked, looking at you as you focused on your book more. "Not a talker, huh?"

You refused to give this guy the time of day, especially when you didn't want to be a one-time hookup. You close your book and leave the library, not paying attention to the football player behind you. If only you knew how much he wanted you.

Eventually, as the day went on, he would try to talk to you, but to no avail. You simply didn't want to be one of his sexual conquests. Then, the pep rally came for the big game, and that's when your life changed forever. As usual, your bookworm self skipped the pep rally to head out to the library. You didn't like the noise and screams of other students, and you especially didn't like being crowded in a gymnasium during a hot day.

You grabbed a shiny blue book from the middle shelf and settled into the bean bag near a dark and quiet corner. The librarian had already gone home but left the keys under the doormat since she knew you liked to come after hours. Although, it was a pain having to lock up before going home.

The last bell rang, but unfortunately, you couldn't hear it due to falling asleep from reading Caraval. But that wasn't unusual for you. You'd just wake up and walk out of the library minutes to hours later. Unfortunately, your absence at the pep rally had caused the final straw to break in this poor jock's mind. He had been trying to get your attention for days. Flowers in the locker you hardly visit, notes that ended up in the trash, and even $500 cash in your backpack. Nothing got your attention. You were always more interested in your damn books than him. But when you were nowhere to be seen during the pep rally, something broke inside of him. You obviously needed help noticing him, and he knew just how to fix it. He knew how you’re a virgin but still had the urge to touch yourself until orgasm. He was going to give you better than that. He was going to fuck your brains out. He was going to give the best fucking of your life. He was going to be oh so soft and gentle as he took your virginity away. That is if his testosterone-fueled rage didn’t make him overdue it.

He walked into the library and found your sleepy figure about to leave. Everyone had gone home, and the sun was starting to set. No one was going to help or catch you with him.

Like a predator in the dark, he made his move and slammed you into the brick wall, slightly tilting your glasses. He held both your hands above your head with one hand and used the other to grab your face.

“You’re going to pay attention to me. Not your books, not your phone, just me. Me!” He growled, his body twitching with rage. “Do you know how long I’ve tried to gain your attention? Your affection? Only for you to ignore me or brush me to the side!”

“I’m sorry! I truly didn’t mean to ignore you! I just thought you were messing with me!” You cried, tears streaming down your face as your glasses fogged up.

“Oh, but you did! You ignored me earlier today in this very library! You’ve ignored me whenever I tried to talk to you! Fuck! All those other girls I’ve let taint my body were for you! All for you! Your affection! Now it’s time I showed you how I feel since you won’t notice me without help!” He barks out, slamming his lips on yours.

His tongue didn’t even fight for dominance just took over your mouth. Occasionally, he’d wrap his tongue around yours, but his tongue was mainly greedy.

“Screw these! You don’t need them for this!” He growled, throwing your glasses off. “Perfect.”

Your hair was a mess, and drool trailed down your chin. His eyes began to stare at the baggy plain shirt covering your pretty ass. He roughly flipped you onto your stomach and lifted your ass up by the leggings. Despite your ass being small, it was still a cute bubbly round that he could pound into euphoria. He didn’t care you didn’t have a standard beauty body. That just meant more people would stay away from you. It was less work and bribing for him.

“Your choice, spankings, oral, or fingering? Though if we do fingering, we’re going straight to sex afterward,” He asks, slowly rubbing your ass.

“Spankings,” You answered immediately, wanting to stall him for as long as possible.

“Haha, I see you like my hands on your ass. Very well, I’ll spank you, but I’ll sneak in some kisses to ease the pain,” He said, slowly peeling your leggings to your knees.

His massive hands began to spank your ass roughly, occasionally slapping your sex to get more juices to spread around on your ass. It was only the beginning of the pleasure. You didn’t want to feel so good from him spanking you, but you were finding it hard to hold back your moans. He delivered the final slap to your ass, then dove straight into your ass to kiss your clothed pussy.

“I’m so glad you wore such thin lace panties today,” He moaned, beginning to kiss your sex more. “I don’t mind that you’re a jungle down there. It only means that everything will stay longer.”

You didn’t pay attention to a word he said as the pleasure from his praise was beginning to get to your head. Your eyes began to get unfocused, and eventually, you came in your underwear as his kisses quickened.

“Ah!” You moaned, realizing your mistake. He began to feast on the delicious cum served. “Agh! Ha! Fuck! Don’t slurp on it while you’re near me like that!”

He finished the last of your cum and peeled off your underwear. He gently flipped you onto your back and took your baggy shirt off, revealing a beautiful chest. He smiled and kissed your chest until he met your bra.

“You’ve got to show that rack more, darling. It suits you. I’ll buy you a matching set in your favorite color. Of course, I’ll only be able to see it, though,” He proposed, taking off the bra with one hand.

Your arms immediately went to your chest, but he stopped you from covering them up by gently rubbing a nipple.

“Sh, sh, sh, it’s ok, dear. Your chest size doesn’t bother me. It’s beautiful,” He cooed, kissing each breast. “Let me worship your body. You need to learn how much of a goddess you are.”

You nodded yes, but everything about it seemed wrong. But the kind words, the way he complimented you, made you feel loved. It made you feel the way those boys in the novels did. He had done all this work for you. Maybe you should give him a chance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. You’ll only feel a bit of discomfort,” He said, lining his member up with your vaginal opening. His member matched his height and proudly displayed its six inches.

You wanted to look at him, but you couldn’t. Not only had he thrown your glasses across the room, but you couldn’t look him in the face. It felt so humiliating being in this position in your sacred space.

“It’s your glasses, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thrown them. I know how protective you are of them since your last pair got broken by that reckless freshman playing football. Here, I’ll get them for you.” He got up and grabbed the glasses from the floor. He gently placed them on your face, letting you see the adorable face full of love and concern. “Is that better, beautiful?”

“Yeah, it is better. Thank you,” You said, earning a soft and gentle kiss.

He returned to his original position and gently wrapped your legs around his waist. He stuck the tip in and waited for your approval to move further.

“You can move more. I’ll be ok,” You said, trying not to let tears out.

“I’ll be slow,” He put his whole length in and waited for you to adjust.

Your legs tighten around his waist, and he begins to thrust in and out of you. Each thrust released a wave of pleasure, pleas, and moans. Both fed off each other’s arousal and pleasure, until the poor jock got pushed over the edge. He lifted your legs as far back as they could and straddled you, beginning his rapid-fire thrusts. Your genital hairs tangled with his causing more friction and tension with each thrust. Your moans for him and his moans for you echoed through the empty library.

“Hah, oh fuck! I’m cumming!”

“I know, darling! So am I!”

He put both hands on your cheeks and looked at you as his climax approached.

“Let’s cum together!”

He thrust one last time, and you both came. Although he came inside of you, you couldn’t care less. You were his now. Besides, you were taking the pill, and you were always perfect with following the schedule for it.

“I love you, darling, more than you realize.”

You couldn’t help but lay on the floor, naked, next to him and say, “I love you too.”

[wahgifs]

STRAY KIDS - "ATE" TRAILER 🥠

[justbreakonme]

“P-please- I can’t- I can’t!”

“What? You can’t what?”

Whumpee shook their head frantically, struggling to breath.

“Whu- Oh! Oh no, okay, okay, I think you’re having a panic attack- oh my god, um, okay- Deep breaths, everything’s gonna be okay…”

Caretaker’s hands moved up, then down, unable to decide where they should go, what they should do. Whumpee hadn’t had a panic attack in front of them before, and, hell, they were practically still strangers. What should they do?

‘Think, dumbass, what are they scared of? Then, stop whatever it is, or get rid of it.’

They looked around, seeing nothing but the rest of the house, until… oh.

It wasn’t what they saw. It was what they heard.

The downstairs neighbors had the football game on, god, Caretaker had drowned it out so much that they forgot it pretty much. But, the yelling…

“Hey- is it the guy downstairs? He yells at the TV, no one’s mad at you, it’s okay, it’s okay-“

They move to hug them but then pause, then remember how desperately Whumpee had clung to them when they were rescued. They gently wrapped an arm around whumpees shoulder, careful to avoid putting any pressure on or near their chest, but…

It was like it startled them enough to move, and they were instantly digging their fingers into Caretakers shoulders, clinging to them once again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay- I’ve got you,” Caretaker let their hands settle against whumpees back, rubbing gentle circles, “You’re here, you’re safe, no one is upset, you don’t have to do anything.”

[winguontheweb]

I hope none of y'all wanted to keep your vision tonight bc Ms. Seahawk wants to be witnessed

my eyes are genuinely strained having drawn this

[fortjester]

gojo satoru & geto suguru from jujutsu kaisen vs. uncomfortably numb by american football ft. hayley williams

[kyuusou]

THE NETHERLANDS LET'S GOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

[daniswoso]

If only I could hold you.

Lionesses x Teen!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death of a family member, comfort, Lionesses team being sweethearts, Loss, death, mourning, grief.

Summary: In which Reader loses her sister and crumbles, but thankfully the girls are there to pick her up.

*******

You burst into tears when you got the call.

Your sister was gone.

You remember being sat around in your’s and Lj’s shared room at camp when your phone rang out around the empty space, having been at camp for the last few days, taking you away from your sister. The only family you had left.

You picked up, confused at the sight of your sister’s caller ID, then even more confused at the fact it wasn’t her voice.

Then you felt your throat get scratchy and dry, painfully so, your eyes watering, your jaw dropping and your jaw clenching.

“We’re sorry, Miss Y/L/N.” The doctor said.

You didn’t respond, instead going to the hospital to say goodbye.

Your sister had been sick for a while, you knew she would pass soon, but you hoped it wouldn’t be before your first major tournament with the National team.

You didn’t know what to expect when you arrived. But you didn’t expect to see her lay on a table like a slab of meat, sheets covering her body.

That’s when the dam broke, you collapsed into a fit of sobs by your sisters bed, clutching her lifeless hand while you sobbed into her chest.

The once familiar body now felt foreign. Stiff. She was cold and rigid, her lips parted slightly and eyes shut. She was your sister, but she wasn’t the same. She had lost her spark.

You buried your head into her chest, sobbing and mumbling about anything and everything to her, begging her to wake up. You tried to seek out her familiar scent, warm and welcoming only to be met with the cold stench of death that seemed to permanently linger in hospitals.

You stayed like that, begging and begging her to wake up under your breath and praying to whatever God above that this was all just some sick and twisted dream until a doctor told you she needed to be taken to the morgue so she could await cremation.

Somewhere in between the sobs and cries, you called Lucy, desperate for a warm, familiar feeling in a time of such uncertainty and despair.

You stayed curled up by your sisters belongings on the once occupied hospital bed. You stared at a picture of the both of you, the tears falling again as your run your thumb over her face.

The room was no longer lively, filled with your sisters presence, now empty and dark. The sky outside had settled into a vast grey, something you felt was fitting considering the awful occasion.

That’s when Lucy, followed by every other single member of the Lionesses came piling into the room. You turned and all your emotions surged to the surface as you practically fling yourself into the older woman, seeking solace in her embrace.

“Hey, hey, we got ya. We’re not going anywhere.” Lucy soothed, and for a moment you allowed yourself to believe it could be okay.

And maybe it would.

******

A/N: sorry for the angst, felt like it lol. english is not my first language! please correct my grammar or spelling in places i’ve missed it.

[go6jo]

rin will hastily tag along with you when you tell him you’re shopping for swimwear that afternoon and while you’re skimming through the racks of clothing you loose sight of him for a bit and you think he must have decided to sit down to let you wander around freely but then he returns with a pile of all different kinds of bathing suits in his hands telling you a bit bashfully that he thought those would look good on you. (you’re a little surprised when you notice they’re all the skimpiest two pieces you’ve ever seen btw… it swells your ego that he wants to see you wearing those, that he wants to show you off… also i think hes particularly keen on those bikinis that you have to tie together. he absolutely loves it when you ask him to help you tie the back of your top also thinks they’re a bit risqué and it makes him a little crazy… is constantly playing with the strings of your bottoms that look so good digging into your thighs…) goes inside the fitting room with you to help you tie the bikini tops and kisses your shoulder before standing behind you with his hands on your waist and you’re trying very hard to suppress a smuggish smile from showing because he’s staring so intensily and he’s so tense, his hands are digging at your waist and it’s kinda amusing “so?”

“look so fucking good.” it's so characteristically blunt and you chuckle softly because he’s said that about all the bikini sets you’ve tried on so far. and he means it. you tell him to help you pick one but he's sooo far gone and he feels a little guilty because he's not being much of a help but he's only thinking about hurrying back home where you'll model your new purchase for him like you always do (a way to show him your gratitude, you say, for spending his money on you yet again. he thinks it’s a fair exchange.) he'll close his eyes as per your request as you walk out of the en-suite bathroom of your shared room - doesn't matter he bought it for you, that he's seen you in it and that he's been thinking of you in it ever since. he's thinking of beckoning you closer to him sitting in bed and kissing your exposed tummy. you'll smile, knowingly, because you know how he gets, because you’re all too aware of what he wants yet is too reluctant to put into words, when he begins to play with the strings of your bottoms, his face still buried in the plush of your stomach - a bit too embarrassed to let you in on his desire, scared that it is too flagrant on his features. he feels his greed might be inadequate. you'll smile and guide his hands to your waist, it's okay, you can touch me, and he will trail his hands up your spine and strip you slowly, starting at the knot on your back, followed by the knot on your neck and then the ones on each side of your hips...

he's rushing out of the fitting room with the pile of different bikini sets you couldnt choose from and goes straight to the register to pay for all three of them despite your protests that three new sets is excessive and completely unecessary.

[machiavellli]

I’m ready

I had to do my own stan girl meme™️ for the italy nt + I added some lucky charms (fiorello, gianni, cavalcunti,…)

[brasiliangp]

[youngandsexyfeedee]

I need a feeder to take me to the next level 🍫🍝🍜

[certainromance]

BODY PAINT @ London, 2023