#we're crashing every scene
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Everything's faded, we barely made it
The fire's ragin', but you're still beautiful
And it's amazin', 'cause I can taste it
Our final odyssey, oh
#love notes#the weeknd#dancing in the flames#i can't wait to see your face#and the way you look at me#we're crashing every scene#we're burning everything in our wake
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i can't tell if i'm just not paying attention or if mouthwashing just doesn't make any sense
#random thoughts#mouthwashing#watching a playthrough and am on the Big Twist so more stuff may happen or whatever#like jimmy raped anya. none of her behavior before this really like clued this in but whatever#doesn't really. add anything to the story so far. could really replace it with anything and the story would still be the same#seems like it's just there to give jimmy a reason to crash the ship#also don't like that he crashed the ship. curly crashing it made him more of a compelling character for me#like it's established he gives the same answers every time in the mental health check ups#make him like. succumb to the pressures of the job. instead of just being kind of a shitty normal boss#and like. anya doesn't want to give jimmy his check up and be alone with him while he makes up sexually deviant lies. could be foreshadowing#but she asks him to give curly his medicine. she doesn't seem to OBJECT to him becoming captain.#she was also a lot more compelling when it seemed like she was struggling due to the pressures of the job#i like swansea. reminds me of uncle billy from the outcasts of poker flat#his final where's johnny moment is kind of out of nowhere. is it because jimmy has the gun?#i doubt it's about the rape. did jimmy do something else? did swansea find out he crashed the ship?#i wish i didn't get to see curly's face before the crash. like give me some room to ponder dude#daisuke and swansea's dynamic is really fun! especially in the pre-crash scenes#my main problem with anya is she didn't have any single character to play off of. daisuke had swansea. curly had jimmy.#she's just kind of there. and miserable. and sucks at her job#also why is curly still alive??? like she killed herself in front of him but didn't take him out? tf anya#there's like 30 mins left so idk maybe some of my complaints will be rectificed. or maybe mouthwashing just isn't for me#literally my main complaint is the rape subplot so if they do something interesting with that then we're golden
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characters on the run
always so tired. driving for hours and hours in whatever shitty beater they find or steal, downing caffeine and too many five-hour energy shots pickpocketed from some gas station
sleeping cramped up in some bus or train seat, slumped over in a transit terminal, hoodie pulled up tight in the hopes of not being recognized
nodding off but jerking awake every single time, exhausted but hardwired to be paranoid even with caretaker's gentle touch and quiet reassurances trying to get them to rest
so much time spent running or fighting they eventually just crash. stoic characters slumped and snoozing, trying to keep watch and instead getting some much needed rest
lurching awake in a cold sweat, gasping and trembling, bandages wrapped tight up and down their torso
"we're safe here. i promise."
"it's okay-- it was just a dream, i didn't hear anything..."
shot or stabbed while trying to lose a chase. limping through crowds, desperately acting causal, traces of blood left on everything they touch
collapsing and drawing a scene, strangers asking questions and touching all over. having to slip away from concerned bystanders before actual help (or trouble) arrives
washing off in some shitty public bathroom and leaving behind a horror show of bloodied paper towels and smeared fingers all over porcelain, too out of it and in a rush to actually bother cleaning up
character bleeding out and semiconscious and caretaker doesn't know what to do, has nowhere to go. desperately trying to drag them along as the threat gets closer and closer, or hiding and waiting and begging for them to wake up
when it's too dangerous to go to a hospital. makeshift first aid in the back of some car, breaking into a vet clinic after hours, slumped over in a dank alleyway or dirty bathroom. shaking fingers and dim lighting and nowhere comfortable to recover
all of the places to lie low are sketchy as hell. trap houses, back rooms, dive bars, strip clubs, late night joints where passing acquaintances are somehow okay with shady strangers crashing on their couch. always surrounded by a bad crowd and caught up in seedy shit
wearing the same clothes which get increasingly fucked up. fabric lost to makeshift bandages or tourniquets, blood stains and sweat, the same hoodie passed between characters getting worn and sentimental
long sleeves, oversized clothes, shitty makeup, hoods and sunglasses and hats, anything to hide their identity and all of the bruises and cuts
barely any money to their name. having to choose between filling up on gas or eating, counting remnants of change, stealing food or dine and dashing out of necessity. barely scrapping by and working any job on the low, just oh so easy to take advantage of
getting sick, but it's not like they get a break from running. feverishly wandering around, catching concerned looks from strangers, never getting the chance to rest properly so they just get worse and worse
getting so desperate they eventually call for help. trembling and hunched over in a phone booth, nervously knocking on caretaker's door, so rundown and pitiful of course they wouldn't be turned away, where the fuck have they been?
#whump#my favs#its the aesthetic#go survive you pathetic fool#whump scenario#writing ideas#whump tropes
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Alibi.
Slytherin boys x reader ( platonic) , Theodore Nott x reader ( not so platonic)
Summary: Summary: You accidentally got yourself involved in some Slytherin boys' drama.
I was deep in the forest, kneeling on a bed of pine needles, my hands clasped in prayer. The air was still, the only sound was the whispering of leaves above. I was right in the middle of asking for some divine intervention in my life when, out of nowhere, something heavy crashed into me from behind.
I was flattened to the ground with a shriek, my thoughts of divinity abruptly replaced with panic. "Merlin's beard! What in the name of—" I twisted around, ready to fend off whatever forest creature had decided to tackle me.
But it wasn’t a creature. It was Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherins. And he was bleeding. Profusely.
He groaned, clutching his side. "Sorry," he muttered through gritted teeth.
"Sorry? You're bleeding all over me!" I squealed, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy and I was too flustered.
"Calm down, will you?" he said, his voice surprisingly steady for someone who looked like they'd been in a fight with a hippogriff and lost. "It's just a little blood."
"A little blood?" I shrieked again. "It looks like you were stabbed! Wait, were you stabbed?"
He winced. "Yeah, probably. Can you stop screaming? You're making my head hurt."
"Stop screaming? You literally fell out of nowhere, bleeding to death on top of me! Of course, I'm screaming!" I finally managed to wriggle out from under him, kneeling beside him in the dirt. "Who did this to you?"
He groaned again, his face pale. "Don't know. Didn't exactly stop to ask."
I fumbled in my bag for my wand, hands shaking. "Okay, okay, just... just hold still. I’m going to try to stop the bleeding." I pointed my wand at his wound, but then my mind went blank. "Uh, what's the spell again?"
Theodore groaned, but this time it sounded more exasperated than pained. "Episkey. It's Episkey."
"Right, right," I muttered, feeling my face heat up. "Episkey!" The wound didn't heal completely, but at least the bleeding stopped.
Just then, we heard a rustling in the bushes. I turned, ready to scream again, and out stumbled none other than Mattheo Riddle, his face splattered with blood.
I let out another scream, louder this time. "What is it with Slytherins and blood today?"
Theodore winced. "Can you stop screaming? You're going to attract every creature in this forest."
Mattheo, looking a mix of annoyed and amused, glanced between us. "What in Merlin's name is going on here? Why are you screaming?"
"That's what I want to know!" I said, throwing my hands up. "First, he crashes into me, bleeding all over, and now you show up looking like you’ve been in a bloodbath."
Theodore groaned again, trying to sit up. "Mattheo, could you do us a favor and not kill her with another heart attack? She's already a mess."
Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Calm down. This isn't my blood." He knelt beside Theodore, checking his wound. "How bad is it?"
Theodore waved him off. "Don't worry. The boy who did this is already dead. I killed him after he stabbed me."
My eyes went wide, and I started to hyperventilate. "You killed a boy? You actually killed someone? Oh my God, we're all going to Azkaban! I was just praying, and now I'm an accessory to murder! What if they find the body? What if they use Veritaserum on us? I can't go to Azkaban, I haven't even finished my O.W.L.s! Oh God, oh God, oh God—"
Theodore, clearly at the end of his patience, slapped his hand over my mouth. "Can you please stop talking for one minute? You're not helping."
I kept mumbling behind his hand, my eyes wide with panic. He glared at me. "Why can't you just shut up for once?" He looked at Mattheo. "A little help here?"
Mattheo smirked, watching the scene unfold. "You seem to have it under control, Theo."
"Seriously," Theodore grumbled, pulling his hand away. "We're in the middle of a forest, I'm bleeding, and she's having a meltdown about Azkaban. Can this day get any worse?"
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I was just praying for some divine intervention, not a bloody crime scene!"
"Well, you got it," Theodore said dryly. "Now help me up, and let's get out of here before something else happens."
As we struggled to get Theodore to his feet, I couldn't help but mutter a quick prayer under my breath. "Please, if anyone's listening, just get us out of this mess."
Theodore chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain. "Yeah, good luck with that."
Just as we managed to get Theodore to his feet, the forest seemed to come alive with movement.
From the shadows emerged a group of masked men, all dressed in ominous black cloaks. My heart sank. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered.
Theodore groaned. "What now?"
Mattheo's eyes narrowed. "This day just keeps getting better."
I had a full-blown breakdown. "Who are they? What do they want? Why is this happening?" I shrieked, clutching Theodore's arm as the masked men closed in.
The leader of the group, his voice muffled by the mask, pointed at me. "Grab the girl!"
I promptly hid behind Theodore, using him as a human shield. "Why me? I don’t even know what’s going on! I was just praying! Praying! I didn't ask for this! Why would anyone want to grab me? I don't know anything! I'm not important! I was just trying to—"
The leader looked slightly puzzled. "You must be important if you're here."
"What?" I spluttered. "No, this is just some weird punishment because I sneaked out of Hogwarts! I was having a terrible week and needed some divine intervention, so I came to the forest to pray for guidance and peace and—"
"I don't give a fuck," the leader snapped, gesturing to his men. "Grab her!"
The masked men advanced, and Theodore stepped in front of me. "No one will touch her," he said, his wand raised despite his injury.
Mattheo mirrored his stance, wand also at the ready.
I peeked out from behind Theodore, still rambling. "Seriously, this is all a misunderstanding. I was just praying because I failed my Potions test, and Professor Snape looked like he wanted to turn me into a newt, and then my cat got sick, and I just needed some clarity in my life, so I thought, 'Why not go to the forest and pray?' But then Theo crashed into me, bleeding everywhere, and now you guys show up looking like Death Eaters on a budget! This is just a cosmic joke, right?"
The leader looked exasperated. "Shut her up."
One of the masked men tried to grab me, but Theodore and Mattheo both fired off stunning spells, sending the attacker flying back.
Theodore turned his head slightly toward me, his eyes serious. "You need to stop talking now."
I nodded, clamping my mouth shut, but my mind was still racing. "This has to be some kind of punishment," I whispered. "Why else would this be happening? Maybe I angered a forest spirit or something."
Theodore rolled his eyes. "Or maybe it's just bad luck. Now, please, stay quiet and let us handle this."
The leader, looking frustrated, signaled for the rest of his men to attack. "Get them all!"
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying silently. "Please, let this be over soon. And if we survive, I promise I'll never sneak out of Hogwarts again. Or pray in the forest. Or—"
Before I could finish my desperate plea, a figure appeared from the shadows and stabbed the leader in the chest. The leader collapsed, revealing none other than Lorenzo Berkshire, better known as Enzo, looking out of breath and slightly bewildered.
"Sorry, guys," Enzo panted, wiping the dagger on his sleeve. "There was this dragon—well, maybe it was a big bird. Hard to tell in the dark.“
Mattheo and Theodore wasted no time, seizing the moment of confusion. They grabbed the nearest masked men and swiftly dispatched them with a combination of spells and physical blows. The remaining attackers fled into the darkness, clearly not eager to meet the same fate as their leader.
Enzo, looking around at the chaos, spotted me and raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. Is this Y/N from Charms class? What are you doing out here?"
Before I could launch into my explanation, Theodore sighed and muttered, "Here we go again."
"I was just praying," I began "Well, I had the worst week ever. First, I failed my Potions test, then my cat got sick, and I just thought maybe if I could get some peace in the forest—"
Theo turned looked me dead in the eyes then slapped his hand over my mouth, his expression one of exasperated patience. "I swear, if I hear one more word about praying or forest spirits... or Potions tests or your cat, I'm going to lose it."
I gazed up at him, ready to argue, but then something struck me. His eyes. They were a striking shade of blue, filled with intensity and a hint of something softer, something...beautiful. I blinked, momentarily speechless.
Enzo, clearly amused by the whole situation, leaned over to Mattheo. "Is she always like this?"
Mattheo smirked. "Pretty much."
Theodore, still holding his hand over my mouth, looked at me with a mix of annoyance and something else I couldn't quite place. I nodded slowly, my panic subsiding slightly as I got lost in those mesmerizing eyes.
Finally, Theodore removed his hand, and I took a deep breath, determined not to start rambling again. "Okay, okay, I'll be quiet."
"Thank Merlin," Theodore muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Enzo clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that we've got that sorted, how about we get out of this forest before any more dragons show up?"
As we started to move, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Enzo, there's no dragon out there, you idiot!"
Enzo turned to me. "And how do you know that?"
"Because dragons don't just wander around the Forbidden Forest chasing random students!" I snapped. "They’re kept in the Dragon Reserve, or did you sleep through that part of Care of Magical Creatures?"
Enzo raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what about that time Hagrid smuggled a baby dragon into his hut? Ever thought about that?"
I scoffed. "That was a one-time thing! And it wasn't even a fully-grown dragon, it was a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling! There's a huge difference!"
Enzo crossed his arms, a playful smirk on his face. "Well, maybe it was an escaped Ridgeback, then. You can't rule out the possibility."
I threw my hands up in frustration. "Escaped Ridgeback? Do you hear yourself? The chances of running into a dragon in the middle of the night are practically zero! You're more likely to find a Blast-Ended Skrewt out here than a dragon!"
I opened my mouth to retort, but Theodore swiftly grabbed me and pulled me away. I couldn't help but look at his strong, albeit bloody, hand on my waist, leaving a bloodstain on my skirt.
As I glanced from his hand up to his face, I couldn't resist commenting, "You've got a pretty good grip for someone who was just stabbed."
Enzo and Mattheo burst into laughter, and Theodore shot them a deadly look. They quieted down, though still wearing amused expressions.
Theodore leaned in close, his voice low and intense. "You will not say a word about what you saw tonight, understood?"
His proximity made my breath hitch, and I felt my heart race. Dirty thoughts flitted through my mind, and I mentally pleaded, Please, God, I didn't mean to have them. You shouldn't have made him that pretty if you didn't want me to have them.
"Y/N," Theodore said, his voice breaking through my reverie. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
I blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yes. No talking about tonight. Got it."
He brushed the dust from my shirt and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture sent a shiver down my spine.
"You two need a moment alone, or can we get moving now?" Mattheo said.
Theodore shot him another glare. "We're moving."
Enzo, called after us. "Hey, Y/N, if you see a dragon on the way back, be sure to let me know!"
I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "If I see a dragon, I'll make sure it eats you first!"
#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x you#fluff imagines#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott imagine#lorenzo berkshire imagine#slytherin boys react#mattheo riddle imagines#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#slytherinboystaglist#slytherinboysmasterlist#slytherinboys#slytherin
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hii, saw u wanted arcane requests. from what ive seen on tiktok, apparently jinx was able to escape after the explosion in the very last episode and survived and ran away on that blimp thing, so could u please write a jinx x fem reader where after the explosion, jinx comes to get reader and they run away together happily to another region to have a fresh start and have a quiet, peaceful life. 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 pls and thank you.
A Fresh Start (Jinx x Gn!reader)
Warnings: mentions of death, use of (Y/N) once
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Fandom: Arcane
Summary: see request
Word Count: 1.6k
No set pronouns for reader
•••
You still remembered every detail, every word said, replaying the moment in your head. You'd had a fight with Jinx, nothing serious you'd thought, but when she and Ekko found you, you could see the pain in her eyes. She came running to you, wrapping her arms around your neck.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean all those things I said,” she apologized, her voice breaking. “You've always been there for me, and I've been ungrateful about that.”
You hugged her tightly, with your arms surrounding her waist, hiding your face in her shoulder.
“It's okay, it doesn't matter now,” you mumbled. “Are you okay?” You asked, breaking apart and caressing her face.
She simply nodded, but you could read her like an open book, and you knew that there was something she wasn't telling you.
Before you could keep questioning her, Ekko decided to speak.
“I hate to interrupt the sweet moment and everything, but we have to hurry if we wanna survive,” he said. You gave him a confused look, slowly breaking your embrace with Jinx.
“Yeah, the world is basically about to end,” the girl said. And both she and the boy tried their best to give you all the information you needed, trying to come up with a plan.
When you were almost finished with the globe, Jinx pulled you apart for a moment, wanting to talk to you.
“I really am sorry about before," she started saying, “I just couldn't think straight at the moment and I took it out on you.”
“Hey, I said it was okay and I meant it,” you comforted her, grabbing her hand.
“I just don't want us to be on bad terms, we don't know what could happen out there,” she whispered, trying to hold back her tears.
“We're not on bad terms, okay? Don't worry about that, my love,” you answered, not wanting to think about the worst case scenario.
“Thank you for not giving up on me, (Y/N), I'm so lucky to have met you. You mean the world to me, and I love you so much.” Tears were already falling down her cheeks, making it hard to contain yours too.
“I love you, too, baby.” You pressed your foreheads together, closing your eyes to better savour the moment. “Don't worry, we're gonna be okay,” you tried to reassure her. “I'm not saying today will be easy, but we'll make it, and soon this will all be just a dark moment from the past.”
She wrapped her arms around your neck once again, not being able to control her sobs anymore. You were taken aback from the sudden action and her reaction. Her embrace was tight and almost filled with dread, almost as if she was certain something bad would happen. You decided to get those thoughts out of your head. Danger was knocking at the door, and you couldn't ignore it anymore; the moment to fight had come.
When you got to the fight scene, Vi quickly joined you, and so did Vander. Ekko took control of the globe, making it crash into the building, knocking the air out of your lungs. When you finally got back on your feet, you quickly went to help Vi and Jinx against Vander, but a hard blow at you was the last thing you remembered before losing consciousness.
You had no idea how long you were out of it. Ekko's figure was the first thing you saw when you woke up, and he helped you sit down slowly.
“Hey, easy there,” he said. “You got hit pretty badly.”
“I'm fine,” you groaned. “Where’s Jinx?” He ignored your eyes, tilting his head. “Ekko?”
He only had to look at you, and you could instantly feel the world crumble around you. Tears quickly flooded your eyes, still looking at the boy in front of you.
“Tell me it's not what I'm thinking,” you pleaded.
“She sacrificed herself to save Vi.”
You closed your eyes, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. You wanted it to be some sick joke, for her to get into the room and tell you that it wasn't true, that she was fine and you didn't have to worry about anything. But you knew her, and you knew something felt off about her in that last conversation you had. Turns out something bad did end up happening.
•••
Not many days had passed, the pain still fresh. You were lost in your thoughts, staring at the city in front of you. You were in the spot Ekko had shown you not long ago, trying to find a bit of peace in contrast to the mess in your head.
Life in Zaun was very unpredictable, which made it difficult to make long-term plans, but also made it easy to not get attached to anything nor anyone. But Jinx was the exception. You just couldn’t stop yourself from getting attached to her, and now you were suffering the consequences.
To be honest you wouldn’t really change anything, not even the pain you were feeling right now. Changing things would mean not even getting to know her, and you were grateful to have met her, to share your life with her. You were simply paying life’s price for love.
You suddenly felt a presence behind you, but you kept your gaze to the front.
“I'd really like to be alone, Ekko,” you said, assuming that the boy had come to check on you.
“I'm not Ekko.”
You froze in place. You had to be hallucinating, it had to be the only explanation. She was gone, and nothing would change that. You shook your head in disbelief, looking up at the sky.
“I'm even hearing her voice now,” you said. You could feel that presence even closer now, and you quickly grew frustrated with what you thought was your own mind. “Leave me alone!” You screamed, turning to the presence behind you and freezing once again when you finally saw her.
“Hey, it's me,” she whispered.
You quickly got up, never breaking eye contact.
“But- You- How?” It was all you could say, barely whispering, still not truly believing what you were seeing. She was right there.
“I guess being injected with crazy amounts of shimmer to keep me from dying had its perks,” she explained almost jokingly, trying to lighten up the mood. “I managed to escape the explosion.”
“But I don't understand. Why didn't you come back right away? Why let us believe you were dead?” You had a million questions in your head, and you could feel your heart beating like crazy.
“I needed everyone to believe it, to have a fresh start. Vi would never give up on me if she knew I was still alive; she'd follow me to the end of the world.”
You still kept your distance from her, it all seemed unreal. A few minutes ago you were grieving her, and now she was right in front of you, as beautiful as ever. But you felt anger inside you as well. She could've told you, she could've saved you from that horrible pain of thinking she was actually gone for good.
“You knew you were gonna fake it all along, didn't you?” You realized, thinking about that last conversation you two had. “That's why you were so emotional, so shaken and distressed.”
“Baby, I-.”
“You knew, right?” You interrupted her, voice cracking with your words.
“I did.”
You closed your eyes. You didn't really know when you'd started crying, but the tears kept falling down your face.
“You let me believe you were dead, Jinx! Dead!” You didn't even try to hide how emotionally distressed you were. You needed to let everything out. The blue-haired girl broke the distance between you two, holding you in her arms while you sobbed into her chest, quickly collapsing to the ground.
“I'm so sorry, baby. I made a mistake and I should've told you,” she said while running her hand through your hair. You could tell by her voice that she was also crying, filled with guilt. “I'm sorry, please forgive me.”
“I get why you did it,” you told her after a while. “I don't blame you for wanting peace, but you have no idea how much it hurt me to think that I'd lost you.”
She cupped your face and made eye contact with you before pressing your foreheads together. “I'm sorry,” she repeated, feeling like she could never say it enough times to express just how much she regretted not letting you know before.
“I'm just glad you're actually okay, love.” You leaned in to her touch, savouring the moment after such turmoil.
She gave you a kiss on your forehead before speaking.
“I want you to come with me,” she uttered.
“Come where?” You questioned.
“I don't know, away from here,” she replied. “I really want that fresh start, but I know that trying to live without you would be absolute hell. I've had many uncertainties in my life, but you just feel right. If there's something I'm sure of is that I love you, with every part of me.”
“I love you, too,” you told her. “And I'd also follow you to the end of the world.” You let out a hopeful smile, and so did she before cupping your face to kiss you.
Her lips against yours felt absolutely right, like it was just the way it had to be, forever and ever. You belonged together, and there was nothing you wanted more than to build a future with her, away from all the ghosts from the past. You knew it wouldn't be easy, both of you had a lot to let go of but with her by your side everything felt a bit easier, and for the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful.
•••
i absolutely loved this request, thank you anon! i'm a sucker for angst
also i'm 100% sure she's still alive
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Ride Me (954)
Max Verstappen x Reader !
Wherein: It's reader’s day off and a non-race week for Max. Max spends his day streaming and playing with his friends and reader spends her time waiting patiently for Max. But he was taking too long. Warnings: thigh riding bcs thick thighs save lives especially if it's max verstappen’s. praise kink. not sure if there's more.
It was a long day— it's been 2 hours since Max has been streaming with his friends, playing on the simulator non-stop, barely giving you attention. Yes, it's been a long day. You've been bored since the moment you woke up because it was your day off, you had nothing to do and nothing to make you occupied even if Max is there. You've been contemplating on disturbing him but you couldn't do it, the least you've been doing is giving him snacks like a toddler busy playing and all he ever says is ‘thank you’ not even giving you a kiss. You ruffled your hair in frustration and just decided to watch a movie instead, hoping it can cure your boredom. But you were doomed, every scene just kept reminding you of him. You were beyond needy, you're craving for his touch. You've been neglected half of the day and you’ve had enough.
You marched your way to Max’s streaming room, taking a peak and seeing him focused on his game, hearing a few curses from time to time. You even contemplated if you're really going to get inside and get what you want or let him enjoy his time with his friends for a while. But you shaked those thoughts and took a step inside. Max was wearing headphones so he didn't really notice that someone came in until he saw the chat going crazy with comments saying that you were inside the room, you even saw comments where they say you look so pretty which made you blush and smile as you went closer to Max’s gaming chair.
“Hi baby, you okay?” he asked, still focused on his game. You sneak your arms on his neck and place a kiss on his cheek before nodding. He continued on playing and you kept giving him small kisses on his face. You saw the chat going crazy with what you're doing and of course, Max sees them as well. You know how possessive Max can be when it comes to you. “Stop,” he whispers quietly enough so it can't be heard in the stream as he places a hand to block his mic but loud enough for you to hear. You only responded with a chuckle.
“Turn off your camera if you don't want them to see me,” you paused for a bit as you traced a finger on the compression shirt that he was wearing. “if you don't want them to see what we're going to do.” You finished your sentence as you placed another kiss on his cheek. He panicked and immediately turned off his stream when you straddled his lap. “Damn it, woman. Congratulations, you'll be on the headlines soon enough.” Max smirks as he finally gives in. You see, that's the thing, he would always give you what you want. You don't even need to beg for it, but there are times he makes you beg of course. And this is one of those times.
“If you wanted me to fuck you so bad, you could've just told me. No need to put on a show, baby.” He says as he holds your hips, guiding you to grind on his half-hard cock. You bit your lip as you felt a shiver down your spine. The friction between the clothed parts of yours and Max just made you even more needy to his touch. Max places one hand on your nape as he forced you closer, crashing his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. Your tongues fought for dominance but Max would always win, he is achampion after all. “Max, I need you.. Please.” You whimper in between kisses, making Max smirk. “My baby is so needy. I'm sorry for not giving you and your pretty pussy enough attention today.”
You only hummed as a response, still moving your hips on his now hard cock. You can feel him under his sweatpants, pretty sure soon enough he can feel how wet you are as well. “God, you're so wet already.” Max whispers as he sneaked a hand inside your shorts. You can feel his fingers flipping through your wet folds. His then snaps the waistband of your shorts, asking permission to remove them along with your panties. He slowly took them of, rubbing your thighs from time to time. Teasing the shit out of you.
He placed a kiss on your ear. “Ride my thighs, baby. Make a mess like you always do.” You moaned at his request. Oh how you love to ride those thick thighs of his. It was your favorite thing to do to past time even before.
You fixed your position on his thigh. You naked cunt starting to soak his pants as you start to move your hips back and forth. You moaned as Max held your hips to go faster. “Feeling good baby? You're already so messed up, I haven't even started yet.” You gripped on his shoulder for support as you felt something build up in your stomach. You were reaching your high, your thighs starting to quiver as you clench on nothing. “You're so pretty, baby. You look so perfect.” He says as he kisses you. “Come on baby, let go. Cum on my thighs. Make a fucking mess.”
“Max.. Fuck.. Please..” You tried to form words but most were inaudible as you reached your high just by riding his thigh. “Ah fuck!” you screamed as you felt a wave of pleasure flowing through you. Max showers you with wet and sloppy kisses on your neck as he helps you ride your climax.
“Let's hope my PR team won't be as furious as they were with the car sex extravaganza from before.”
#layn archive !#f1 imagine#formula 1 fic#f1 smut#max verstappen#max verstappen fic#max verstappen smut#max verstappen imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1 x you
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attraction - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 257
"You can't deny the attraction between us," James murmured into the silence, stepping closer to Regulus and gently grabbing his jaw. "We've been dancing around this for way too long, love."
Trying not to gape at the confession, Regulus rolled his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he whispered, wishing his voice was stronger. "We're just friends."
"Friends?" James repeated, his eyes full of passion and adoration. "God, you have no idea, do you? No idea what you do to me? Fuck, I've been crazy about you for ages!" His hands moved to Regulus's hips, pulling their bodies together, drawing a gasp from the shorter man.
Their bodies felt so perfect together, so right, and Regulus did everything in his power to keep himself calm as the air around him became heavy and hot. God, he wanted this. He wanted James so badly. He wanted to crash their lips together and let go of his resolve, to just be with James, in every sense of the word.
But before he could, a voice shouted through his thoughts.
"CUT! Reset!"
And he blinked, coming back to reality, as chaos erupted around him, the cast and crew on set moving from where they were all frozen, watching Regulus and James in their moment.
James pulled away, blinking a bit, and smiled at Regulus. "Good scene, Reg. Fuck, you're an amazing actor," the taller man commented before returning to his staring place, turning his back on Regulus.
But Regulus wasn't acting.
Because everything he'd been feeling was real.
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#harry potter marauders#fanfic#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders harry potter#the marauders era#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#james x regulus#james potter#regulus x james#regulus and james#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#regulus deserved better#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus#jegulus microfic
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mutual 1: i hope every man in the hardcore scene dies
mutual 2: they didn't kill john lennon soon enough. would not have been the case if i was around back then, I can tell you that much.
mutual 3: [gif set of George Harrison and Paul McCartney signing Beatles dissolution papers] George and Paul look so cute here <3 #my silly guys
mutual 4: guys it's so over we're never getting mcr5...gerard i'm lost at sea without you... actually i don't even care like it's whatever... (lying)
mutual 5: if there was a god i'd be able to get bruce springsteen pregnant #sometimes it's like someone took a knife baby edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley through the middle of my skull #personal
mutual 6: the production on taylor's music for the last few years....i need jack antonoff's head on my desk by noon
mutual 7: [image of Bob Dylan stoned out of his mind] he kinda ate here
mutual 8: you wouldn't even know real punk music if it fucking slammed into you like a semi you stupid cunt [KathleenHannaScreaming.jpg]
mutual 9: NEW SABRINA CARPENTER #GIRL
mutual 10: i wish my life was like Crash (1996) dir. David Cronenberg
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ℬ𝓇𝓊𝒸ℯ 𝒲𝒶𝓎𝓃ℯ 𝓍 ℳ𝒶𝓁ℯ ℳℴ𝒹ℯ𝓁 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇
cw: NSFW
~ You liked modeling enough. It was exciting, and new, and you got to meet a bunch of people you otherwise wouldn't. For instance, if you could go back to the skinny, slightly effeminate brace face in rural Smallsville and tell him he would be hanging off the Bruce Wayne's arm at a promotional after party in Gotham he would laugh in your face. But here you were, and here he was, all 6ft (6'7? 6'8? God he was intimidating) wrapped around your shoulders, two of the girls from the shoot on his other side. You didn't know either of them very well, but they we're kind to you whenever you crossed paths, and it was always nice to see more black models in the industry.
~ So why did you feel so much vitriol towards them? This ugly feeling curling in your stomach every time Wayne leaned slightly towards them, slightly away from you. You chopped it up to star power, pure unadulterated charm that came with being one of the richest men in the Americas, but as long as it had been, you still remembered what it was like it have a crush.
~ It was hard to not have a crush on Bruce Wayne. He was confident, ridiculously so, but not the kind of confidence that made you feel small. When you arrived, he asked you "Do you like dark chocolate? I can't stand the stuff but for some reason people keep giving it to me." You could see he was lying, and that maybe he had just wanted to give you an expensive box of chocolate without making you feel like you owed him anything. It made you feel special.
~ It didn't take him long to invite the whole party back to his manor. His home was beautiful. Like a castle in one of the picture books your gran used to let you borrow from her job at the library. You told Bruce that, and he had smiled so genuinely you hadn't stopped blushing for the rest of the night.
~ You ended up asking yourself up to his bedroom. One of the bottle girls had popped the cork right over you, drenching your pants in sparkling cider. She had been so apologetic, and you hadn't wanted to make a scene, so you stumbled up the stairs in into the nearest unlocked door you could find. You closed the door behind you, stripping out of your soaked jeans to dab them clean in the joining bathroom.
~ "Not that I'm complaining, but I have to say it's not everyday I find pretty boys stripping out their clothes unprompted in my bedroom." You must have jumped about a foot in the air, hiding behind your thread bare trousers. "Oh god Mr. Wayne I'm so sorry, I just needed- there was this champagne girl- and well-"
"Relax, I'm just teasing." You looked at him properly now, his weary tone bleeding past your initial embarrassment. He was propped up against the bedpost, shirtless with one hand clamped firmly over his ribs. There was a mean purple blotch under his fingers, and his chest rose and fell in stutters. He was in pain.
"What happened?" You were across the room the next second, pants forgotten on the floor as you scooted next to him in your briefs. There was a slight blush across his chest and cheeks. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe you were.
"Got into... a brawl. Nothing serious don't worry." You got the feeling he liked that you were worried. You wondered how many people worried about Bruce Wayne. You had seen an older man in butler attire fussing over him when the party first got here. You hoped he was looked after.
"Well... I best get going." You were inches apart now, you could feel his harsh breath against your top lip.
"Best." He replied, curling his lip to mirror your Midwestern accent.
You fell into him first, crashing your lips against his as his arms came to grip your biceps. He lifted you with an insane show of strength, you squealed into his mouth, ending off in a giggle. He gave that genuine smile again.
~ You were straddling him now, grinding down on a ever hardening length. He gasped into your mouth, squeezing almost painfully as he pressed you firmer against him. He was massaging the v on your waist, teasing just above where you wanted him.
"Can I?"
You nodded manically against his shoulder, the both of you generating a frantic energy. He dipped down, palming you through your underwear.
"Protection?" You managed to pant out, remembering every talk your granny had drilled into you since you came out.
"Bedside drawer."
~ 3 hours. You kept going for 3 hours after that. He had taken you, knees pressed up against your shoulders, hitting all the right spots until you had come dry and untouched. He was still hard inside you, panting and you squeezed your way through your orgasm. He was kind, clearly straining to not thrust forward while you were so sensitive. You hooked your legs behind the dip in his waist and tugged him forward. A dare. The result of which had you on your hands and knees panting and keening after your third, fourth? climax. He was good afterwards as well. Sweet. He held your head up as he poured water from a sealed bottle down your throat, petting through your slim locs. You woke up tucked against his side, unsure if he had even slept a wink as he stared down at you. He had to go, but he had arranged one of the cars for you as soon as you wanted to leave. The butler, Alfred, had cleaned and dried your jeans while you were asleep, although Bruce had made it clear you were welcome to his extensive wardrobe. You giggled, imagining getting back to your apartment in a pair of 1000$ tracksuit pants with the ankles rolled up to your calves.
~ When you finally made it back to your apartment, you patted down your jeans, pleading to whoever was listening that you hadn't lost your keys in the chaos of the previous night. Instead, you pulled out a neatly folded parchment paper, thumbing it open to find barely legible handwriting reading:
555-0199
Call me if you liked the chocolate.
END
#dcau#dc#fanfic#bruce wayne#queer bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x male reader#x male reader#x male y/n#oc#y/n#dc smut#x reader#might make this a series idk#romcom tropes
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hihihi rae!!!!! congratulations on 900 followers🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻i still remember the day u first posted ur jason fics aaaa ive loved every single one of ur fics ever since!!!
for the event, how about something angsty since ur the kween of angst!!!
“cmon, open your eyes. please, just open your eyes”
~900 words
It didn't hurt at first. The shrapnel in your side was a nuisance, of course. It slowed your movements, made you sluggish as you helped pull person after person out of the rubble.
But it didn't hurt. You knew, realistically, that it did, that adrenaline could only keep you on your feet for so long. But between disarming the rest of Fireflys bombs and getting the surviving victims to paramedics, you'd brushed off your own injuries.
Just one more person. One more life. The mantra repeated itself over and over in your head. Over and over until there was no one left to help. Then, and only then, did you follow the other vigilantes to a nearby roof.
Batman is the first to speak, gaze set on the scene below, "There's been no other sightings of Firefly. We'll split into teams of two and look into his usual hideouts. Robin and I will take East End. Spoiler and," you tune out the rest of his orders, more focused on not swaying on your feet.
You discreetly press your hand to your side, fighting the urge to wince at the blood seeping into your armor. Your vision is starting to swim, and you can practically feel your body crashing.
You shift your weight, trying to steady yourself. If you can just make it it a couple more hours, if you can just find Firefly before anyone else gets hurt–
"You okay," a quiet voice asks. You turn your head as Red Hood settles himself at your side, head tilted like he's observed your every movement.
You debate lying. Jason's always been observant, but it's not really a lie if you are okay, right? Sure, maybe there's some blood, and maybe it's starting to hurt when you breathe, but you are okay.
You open your mouth to tell him as much while putting on your most convincing face. Instead of getting to say a word, your world just kind of tips to the side.
One second, you're standing and the next? Nothing. A void of blackness and silence.
You must not be out for long, because you slowly wake up to shouts and firm pressure to your side.
You're not sure when you got so cold, but the body cradling you is warm. It draws you further away from the darkness threatening to take you under again.
There's a hand cupping your face, a thigh bracing your back, and a chest pressed to your side. If you had the strength to move, you'd want to curl into it, to savor how safe it feels.
A pair of hands work over your side, and you start to register sharp words and pleading tones. It takes more effort than it should to start to recognize what they're saying.
'Lost a lot of blood,' you manage to pick out. Something about getting the cave ready. Reassurances that you were caught before hit your head, and you've survived worse than a piece of metal to your kidney.
But it's none of those words, none of those voices that will you to open your eyes.
It's Jason. His voice cuts through the hazy fog in your mind, "C'mon, open your eyes. Please, just open your eyes." He sounds like he's begging, desperate and anxious for any sign of life from you.
You hate it. Hate that you made him worry. Made him scared. It takes all the strength you have left, but you crack your eyes open.
His helmet is off, thrown somewhere and forgotten, and you've never seen him look so relieved, "Hey, hey, sweetheart. There you are. You need to keep your eyes open for me, okay? We're gonna get you taken care of."
You'd like to nod, but all you manage is a weak hum. Your body feels heavy, your eyes even heavier, but his thumb is stroking your cheek, and it's so soothing that you actually want to stay awake, to soak up every soft word and gentle touch.
"Good," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving you, even as the others work diligently over your injury. "Just stay awake, stay with me," he pleads.
Someone says something about the batmobile, but it's getting more and more difficult to focus on words. There's a brief argument about it being too dangerous to move you, at least you think there is.
Then you're lifted into the air, held tightly in Red Hood's arms. Your head lolls to his shoulder.
You know he's still speaking to you, you can hear the way his voice is starting to pitch into something more desperate again. But whatever he's saying is lost to your dazed state.
Lights seem to flash in your vision, but the warmth of him never fades. The engine of the batmobile roars in time with your eyes rolling back.
You know you've lost some time. You must have blacked out somewhere in between the roof and getting to the cave.
Your eyes flutter sluggishly. There's an IV in your arm, a hand clutching yours, and a white light baring down at you.
The familiar sensation of stitches pulling your skin back together registers. It's enough to know you won't die, even if it feels like you are.
There's a soft voice in your ear. The words sound like gibberish, but the tone is comforting. Sleep starts to drag you back under, but there's a peace to it this time, comforted by the idea that when you wake up, and you will wake up, that voice will still be at your side.
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Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly
Previous - Part 16 - Next
"How do you feel today?"
You were checking on Anya, who was still resting.
Anya: "I feel much better... I hope to recover by the time the rescue comes."
"I hope so, don't worry, even if you can't walk i will carry you." You giver her a smile
Anya: "...(Y/n), I have to tell you something"
ahead"9
Anya: "...I had hidden the gun... It's there."
She pointed to a drawer that was under Curly's stretcher, you looked at Anya for a few seconds.
"You had told me that you didn't know where it was."
Anya: "I was afraid you would put it somewhere else and it would be within his reach..."
"Mm... You did well, I would have followed the protocol and kept it with me, it would have been dangerous anyway."
Anya: "...Do you really think they're coming to rescue us? They're not going to leave us here... are they?
"Hey," you took his hand, "Everything is going to be alright, they're going to come."
Anya: "...If they don't come... Could you?..."
"They are coming"
You squeezed her hand more firmly and stayed by her side until she fell deeply asleep.
You approached Curly's stretcher to open the drawer and see the gun's safe.
You entered the code to open it and took it there, making sure it was in good condition.
You felt Curly's gaze on you when you put it away in your uniform.
"It has the safe on, it won't hurt me, don't worry. I don't want to be scolded if they find it here, the protocol says that the captain in charge must have it in their possession in case of an emergency, otherwise, they will be sanctioned. If they come and find it here, they'll make a scene."
You patted his chest a couple of times and pouted.
"Don't look at me like that, you're the one who forced me to learn the rules and follow them. It's your fault."
The man let out a sound, it seemed like he wanted to laugh at your words.
"There's not much time left... We're almost there... And when we return... You're going to be in the hospital a lot for sure, but you'll have a more comfortable bed, better care, I'll come to see you every day... And when you feel better, we'll go home... And we'll sleep together again like before, okay?"
You ran your hand over his chest, smiling at him affectionately, thinking that you would have your husband by your side again.
Curly: "Clo...sh..."
He murmured, looking at you, patiently waiting for you to understand his request. You felt curious about it, but you approached his face.
And he leaned his head to you, a small sound of a clinch could be heard.
You put your hands over your mouth, unsure of how to feel about what he did, but the sensation of having knocked your teeth together left a tingling in your mouth.
While Curly was embarrased that his plan hadn't gone as well as he had thought in his attempt to give you a "kiss."
You ran your tongue over your teeth hoping that sensation would go away faster, and as you did so, you sighed in relief.
"Don't do that again, please," you laughed, still making a couple of gestures with your mouth as if the tickling sensation had lingered. "One day you can kiss me again, but don't crash your mouth into mine with your exposed teeth, we're going to hurt each other."
He let out a whimper and turned hid head to avoid seeing you, to which you responded by leaving a kiss on his neck before leaving.
Daisuke: "Captain, I can't make Polly stop crying, please help me, Swansea told me it was my turn to take care of her and I don't know what to do! I tried to feed her, her diaper is clean, and she doesn't want me to hold her either!"
The boy approached you with the baby in his arms, who was red from having cried for so long.
"Not here-!"
You pulled him away from the nursery so that Anya wouldn't have to hear the baby's cries.
You took the baby and laid her on the sofa to start rubbing her stomach.
So you took her little feet and started pressing them against her stomach slowly, Daisuke was already starting to panic.
Daisuke: "What's wrong with her?"
He asked in terror until they heard the fart the baby started to release, gradually calming down as she felt relieved.
"Gases," you replied, squeezing her a little more until she let it all out.
Daisuke: "My hero!"
"Now it's your turn to put her to sleep."
Daisuke: "That's easy!"
He took the baby and lay down on the sofa, placing her on top of him. Polly looked comfortable on the boy's chest, relaxed, she closed her eyes.
Daisuke: "Ta-da~"
They heard another fart from the baby again, but this time it seemed like there was something more into it.
Daisuke: "....Captainnnnn"
"...I think both of you are going to need a bathroom..."
You covered your nose, ready to help the boy.
#do it for them mouthwashing#mouthwash#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing x reader#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#captain curly#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#mouthwashing curly
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Learning the Sissy ABC's of Diaper Domination - "G"
You had given up everything. You left your home, quit your job, and gave ownership of everything to Mommy Grace and Daddy Mick. With no control of your money, no cell phone, no drivers license in their state along with no car, and not a single item of clothing to your name, you were at their whim completely. You'd asked for this, and now you were getting it. And as promised, they were going to ensure you learned your place by teaching you the ABC's of being a Sissy Diaper Sub.
Lesson 7, Week 6, G is for Girly
Great job! Get some well deserved rest my padded princess, you've impressed Mommy and Daddy so well with how quickly you've adapted to this week's lesson. Though we'll truly measure how good you've gotten at being graceful at the end of the week.
Being a Sissy is about presentation, and acting Girly is the right way you should be expressing everything you do. So we're going to help you crash course every feminine lesson we can here.
Obviously you've already been wearing them, but outfits so hyper feminine that they would make any actual woman turn pink from embarrassment is the easiest thing to learn.
The extra pink bondage items are just reminders of submission, which isn't to suggest that actual women are submissive. No, just girly diaper using sissies match that description. And as said plump padding packing prissy you always need to submit. To true women, to all men, to everyone. You're not womanly, you're girly, and as such you submit to all.
And the true nature of being girly comes from what you'll be doing the next several days and nights. During the day you'll be putting on clinics of how your every movement is girly. You're waddle, the hip swagger, and being a slutty diaper sissy, how you show off those asset you've been growing. You should be such a good girly sissy that it's more feminine than those super frilly pink outfits.
At night though, you'll finally get to feeling like a girl. Because we'll have your manhood locked away, and you'll be getting pleased like a true slutty sissy. And as such, you'll be stuffed fuller than your day time diapers. You'll be gagging on sausages so thick they bring tears of sissy joy to your eyes. And we'll start calling you our good little caboose since you'll be having yours ridden over and over again, splattering your diapers with some sissy goo.
Yes the true fun starts now my Sexy Diapered Sissy. We've loved having your become our Girly little slut and we can't wait to see how gosh darn great you'll get at giving, grinding, and going down on your dominates. What a gooey gagging gulper you'll be, we can tell!
---------------------------------------------------
Photo is not mine, credit goes to original owner. Contact me if you would like credit for it, and if you would like me to remove it from the page.
No challenges yet, though working still on getting the perfect photo. Should have chances upcoming and will be sure to get those posted asap. Hope my writing is enjoyable still.
Story is a work of fiction. All events, people, and places involve potential problematic behaviors and depict scenes for fantasy purposes only.
#ab/dl caption#diaper captions#humiliation captions#original caption#sissy diaper#diaper humiliation#diaper play#diaper stories#sissi caption#diaper sub#ab dl diaper#ab dl lifestyle#diaper regression#ab/dl#ab/dl diaper#adult diaper lover#diapered sissy#diapered slave#ab/dl sissy#ab/dl kink#ab/dl lifestyle#diaper fantasy#forced feminized#forced diaper#sissy desires#diaper sissy#diaper discipline#sissy abc#diaper domination#diaper fun
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if mlvn is supposed to be the main romance of the show, the no. 1 couple, why would the writers save their big i love you moment for a scene where there is so much distraction
there is so much going on here. el choking, mike shifting around and hesitating, will in the background, light flickering, multiple cuts to jonathan and argyle
and then of course the fact that el is in vecnas mind space which is visually displeasing. it's red, bloody looking, thunder is crashing, the vines are squelching, el is crying, max is dying, and also the depressing music conveniently titled "You're The Heart."
there is SO MUCH HAPPENING!! this moment is supposed to be about el and mike, but it couldn't be farther from that.
and for people saying "well that's just what was happening in the moment!", this isnt real life. the story can be literally whatever the duffers want it to be. they could've written the scene differently so there was more tenderness, intimacy, gentleness, emotion. they could've found time for mike and el to have a sweet moment to themselves where he apologizes, and then when el is choking she simply remembers that moment and all of her memories with mike over the years. but nope, it just had to be the other way.
this scene is an example of exactly how to create intimacy between 2 characters in a scene with multiple other people. they made sure to do it a specific way to build will and mike's relationship.
when joyce is talking to will, jonathan is standing in the background for most of it. they also cut to mike and hopper watching. we are reminded there are others in the shed. they cut to will multiple times as joyce talks.
this next thing may sound insignificant, but it's not. they cut to jonathan BEFORE he starts speaking. he watches will for a second, then starts talking about the day lonnie left. then it immediately cuts to joyce, before cutting back to jonathan kneeling down in front of will. as jonathan talks there are shots of just jonathan, jonathan and joyce, and will listening.
they saved mikes for last. every writer knows whatever comes last will have the most impact.
when mike starts speaking, will is still looking at jonathan. wills head shoots towards mike. only after that do we see mike, and he's already crying.
they don't cut away from mike until he says "you were just swinging by yourself" it cuts to will then. then we're back to mike, and it doesn't cut until he's done talking.
there's no music, no flickering, no one else making noise or talking. there's no noise besides mike speaking, will breathing, and crickets outside. it sounds oxymoronic to say this, but the crickets only emphasize how silent it is in the shed besides mike. it's so silent and calm in there that you can hear the crickets. you can barely see anything behind mike, it's just his face illuminated by the light. mike isn't yelling, he's talking softly. this is gentle. intimate.
then it cuts back to will, and he looks more emotional than he has this whole time they've been trying to break through to him. his eyes are red and glossy, his breaths are shuddering as he looks at mike, like he's about to break and cry.
when it cuts to joyce, it's jarring. it tears wills eyes from mike. because at this point we've completely forgotten that there are other people in the room. it's like mike and will are in their own little bubble, like they're the only two people in the world. go and rewatch the full scene, its striking how different mikes monologue to will is shot compared to the others. it suddenly feels so much more intimate and emotionally intense.
and it doesn't, not for a SECOND, lead you to believe mike is hesitant or struggling to tell the truth. it's like the words are spilling straight out of mikes heart into will's. he does not have to be pushed into this or encouraged. the moment jonathan was done talking mike knew exactly what he wanted to say, and he was already so emotional he was crying.
it's coming from him. from his heart.
looking at joyce
looking at jonathan
looking at mike.
and to any deniers here saying all of this is just because of wills feelings for mike..
that's cruel.
that's actually cruel.
it would be DIABOLICAL for the writers to give byler such a sweet emotional moment like this just for it to end in a character who's already on the struggle bus being completely heartbroken. that is straight up cruel to will.
and it would also be queerbaiting lolz
and before you go, quick question. can you imagine THIS mike avoiding wills hug?
i highly doubt it.
#stranger things#byler#will byers#mike wheeler#byler endgame#byler analysis#mike wheeler i know what you are#stranger things 2#byler a2#anti milkvan#milkvan is bones
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hello!! ok so, i was wondering if i could request a fic that is based around autumn/ october/ halloween because spencer loves spooky season and i fuck with that, anyway, so could you tie that detail into smth kinda like your “everywhere everything” fic fluff wise because i went feral for that one lmao. feel free to ignore if youre not up to it, but i’d love to read what youve got if you do write this. 💙
EVERYWHERE EVERYTHING | spencer reid
part one, part two
summary; spending the week before halloween & going to the pumpkin patch with Spencer in your home town.
warnings; pure love sick fluff, talks about home towns, established relationships, fem reader, halloween, mentions of driving, rushed ending sorry!!
an; i decided to make this request a part two to the everywhere everything fic bc the next verse just fits so well i think?? but it can be read without reading the first part. and that whole song feels like love in autumn!!
im also australian and we dont celebrate halloween like americans do, ive never been to a pumpkin patch so please bare w me during this.
'Drive slowly, I know every route in this county, maybe that ain't such a bad thing I'll tell you where not to speed. It's been a long year and all of our book's pages dog-eared We write out the ends on our palms, dear. Then forget to read, we didn't know that the sun was collapsing 'Til the seas rose and the buildings came crashing. We cried, "Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh" Everywhere, everything, I wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat 'Til our fingers decompose Keep my hand in yours'
"Slow down" You huffed out as Spencer turned down a road you knew all to well, it was familiar and came with a sense of home in place. It was the same road you remembered your father being pulled over everytime for speeding, the same road you had been pulled over on when you had first gotten your licence.
Spencer did as you told him, after sitting in the car with you for an hour mumbling about where was and wasn't safe to go a little faster than the speed limit, he knew to listen. This was your home, you knew it better than he would.
He even refrained from correcting some of your 'fun facts' abot your home town. Purely because listening to your excitement while talking about it made his heart too happy to say anything.
"You know we have gone past about three different pumpkin patches on the way" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrow softly as his head turned from the road to look at you for a moment before turning back to the road.
You rolled your eyes, a playful smile taking place over your lips. “Yes, but, this one’s the best. We are literally two minutes away. Please don’t complain.” You muttered with a smile.
The air between the two of you was warm. It lingered with peace and quiet love, the sort that didn’t need to be shouted from a roof top because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s hands reached to grab yours, the way his eyes danced between you and the road, the way the music playing was what you enjoyed rather than the normal radio he would let play in the background.
It didn’t need to be shouted because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s face lit up when he parked the car and looked out the window, the way he turned back to you with just about the widest grin you think ever possible, the way he leant in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead before he got out, walking around the car to open the door for you.
“Pretty right?” You grinned up at him as his eyes took over the scene, the leaves that covered the ground around your feet all the prettiest shades of orange and yellow, the scent of cinnamon filling the air around you, as patches and patches of pumpkins laid in front of you, all surrounded by a brown picket fence.
He just placed another kiss on your the top of your head, clasping his hand with yours, fingers interlinked between one another. The smile on his face and look in his eyes said more about his excitement than words possibly good — so you didn’t mind the lack of response as you began walking towards the patches.
“I wanna find the biggest one.” You mumbled out, looking around the large patches. There was families, friends, other couples surrounding you but your focus was on nothing but Spencer, and finding the biggest possible pumpkin.
Spencer snorted as he looked up at from patches, to look at you. He took in how you looked curled into one of his knitted sweaters, arms wrapped around your torso in order to shield you from the autumn breeze.
“I think that kid just took the biggest one”
You furrowed your eyebrows and spun your body to look behind you to where a kid was walking — To be fair the pumpkin his dad was holding was pretty big, but the smile on the kids face when he jumped around holding hands with his mum made you not mind so much.
“Well.. I’ll get the second biggest” You settled. Spencer smiled as he shook his head, tugging you slightly closer by your hand to pull you into his chest. His hand left yours as his arms came to rest around your waist.
You laughed, as your hands came up to his upper back and the back of his head gently. The two of you swayed side to side for a moment. “Happy?” You asked, silly question. You could feel it radiating off of him.
He pulled his head away to press his forehead against yours, his nose knocking yours lightly as he scrunched up his face for a moment, before pulling back to look down at your face. His lip quipped up into a soft smile. “Very.”
You lean back, his hands moving to hold onto your hips as his thumb slipped up under your sweater, his sweater. His thumb ran small circles over the skin in place. Your smile widened, heart exploding as your skin burnt under the cold of his fingertips.
“Come on, I want to find the perfect pumpkin. We should have a pumpkin carving competition this year, that would be so much fun” You rambled as you pulled away from his touch to walk around the lines and lines of pumpkins.
He laughed, “We should.” He agreed softly, because why would he ever deny you what you wanted, especially something to do with halloween.
He watched as you bent down to run your fingertips run gently along one of the pumpkins in the row: It was a decent size and probably would be simply to carve since he knew your mind was now hyper-fixated on the idea of pumpkin carving instead of finding the biggest possible pumpkin.
“Actually- Did you know each year 150 million dollars is made from pumpkins, and 98 percent of that is from people who purchase them to make jack-o’-lanterns, and 46% of amercia—”
“How many is that?” You cut off as you look up at him from where you were leant down to look at the pumpkins. He smiled.
“A hundred and fifty four million” He answered without even having to think about it. It never failed to stun you. You hummed allowing him to continue on telling you his facts.
“So 46 percent — Or A hundred and fifty four million people, in America make jack-o-lanterns every year. During Halloween the most reason for injury is actually because of pumpkin carving.” He stated.
You stood up, a soft smile on your face as you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Well maybe people should be more careful. I’ve never gotten an injury while carving a pumpkin” You hummed out.
He snorted, taking your hand gently. “Have you ever carved a pumpkin?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.
You gasped, “Yes- Actually!! I have.” You said, your voice an octave higher than normally. He smiled, nodding his head in disbelief which only caused you to shake your own.
The rest of the day consisted of you and Spencer walking around the pumpkin patch, making jokes and laughing with one another, you even tried a pumpkin, cinnamon cookie from a stand nearby.. Safe to say you weren’t too fond of it.
But you were fond of the way Spencer’s eyes shone in a different sort of way when the two of you finally picked out a pumpkin each, the way his mood seemed unwavering during the fall season.
You loved him, and you loved halloween.
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Sinful
Masterlist AO3
Summary - You experience your first orgasm dry humping your DADA professor on his desk. He, in turn, makes a mess all over you. (612 words)
Warnings - Teacher/student relationship, dry humping, innocence kink if you squint, age gap, my grammar (english is my second language), not proof read.
Notes - This is just smut without plot. I just felt like writing a short piece before bed! Good night ~
An innocent "Y/N, may I have a word?" after your DADA class had led to you now being pinned to Professor Lupin's desk, legs spread as he stood between them. You lifted your hips instinctively, your body reacting to his evident arousal. The warmth of your body through the thin fabric of your skirt was maddening to him. You could feel the hard ridge of his length pressing intently against his trouser.
You began moving against him tentatively, little uncertain sways of your hips that had him biting his lip to stifle a moan. He tried his best to stay still, to let you explore the new sensations, but every slight brush, every subtle grind was driving him closer and closer to the edge.
"That's it, Y/N", he murmured hoarsely, his voice dripping with lust.
Your breaths were fast, your cheeks flushed with arousal, and the little moan you let out went straight to his core. "Professor...I've never...I don't-" you tried to explain, but words failed you.
"It's okay," he reassured you, cupping your cheek with one hand while he anchored you to him with the other on your waist. "Let go for me. Feel it, love. Let me feel you."
The soft whimper that you released had him nearly undone. "Professor," you whispered, the overwhelming sensations crashing over you as your whole body tensed up against him.
"That's it, good girl," he whispered in praise against your neck.
The knowledge that he had been the cause of your pleasure, that he had brought you to that pinnacle of bliss for the first time, snapped the last threat of his restraint. "F-fuck", he growled, grinding himself against you with abandon, chasing that mind-numbing pleasure. "I'm close."
In the heat of the moment, his hands, shaky with need, slid beneath your skirt, fingers brushing over the fabric of your panties, feeling the warmth and dampness there. With a low growl, His hips began moving on their own accord, the desperate grind of his arousal evident in his every movement. The friction, the heat of your body, was intoxicating. "I'm so close...fuck, I'm going to come," he warned you, the words coming out ragged and breathless.
With a few hurried thrusts, the overwhelming sensation became too much. Fumbling with his trousers, he managed to unbutton them just in time, freeing himself from the restricting fabric, his fingers closing around his length. Lifting the hem of your skirt, his eyes darkened at the sight of your thighs and soaked panties.
As the impending rush of his climax approached, he aimed himself at you, giving himself a few hard, rough strokes. A string of curses fell from his lips, "Ah, fuck..." he moaned as thick ropes of warmth spilled onto the lace of your skin, hot and sticky. His hand continued to move, prolonging the sensation, making sure every drop, every spurt landed on you in a possessive display.
"Merlin," he panted, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. Taking a moment to recover, he looked down at the debauched scene. Your face was a picture of flushed innocence and surprise, your lips slightly parted as you too, tried to catch your breath. The remnants of his climax, still warm against your skin, was a foreign but not unwelcome sensation. The sight was sinful. Erotic. Wrong. Intoxicating.
With a hand still resting on your thigh, he leaned down, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss to your lips. "We're a mess," you murmured, a small smile forming as you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Apologies for that," he replied, although he didn't mean it.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#professor lupin#professor lupin x reader#remus lupin smut#smut#hp#hp fanfic
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𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞
♖ Spencer Reid x f!reader
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
— content warnings: usual criminal minds violence, murder, death
— word count: 1.5k
inspired by: loml by Taylor Swift
The BAU team had seen their fair share of gruesome crime scenes, but this one was particularly chilling. Y/N had been abducted three days ago, and now they found her body dumped in a remote warehouse on the outskirts of Quantico. Spencer Reid's heart sank as he approached the scene, his mind racing with a mix of dread and desperate hope.
Derek Morgan, his closest friend and confidant on the team, gripped Spencer's arm firmly as they neared the body. "Reid, stay focused," Derek murmured, his voice tinged with concern. "You can't go rushing in there. We have to assess the situation first."
Spencer nodded mechanically, his eyes fixed on Y/N's lifeless form lying amidst the cold concrete floor. Her face was pale, eyes closed as if in peaceful sleep, but the evidence of violence was stark—bruises on her wrists, a single gunshot wound to the chest. The scene was a tableau of horror, the silence broken only by the distant hum of police radios and the muffled voices of forensic technicians.
Hotch approached them with a grim expression. "We need to process the scene carefully," he stated, his tone clipped and professional. "Garcia is running the last known communications and surveillance footage. We might still catch a break."
Spencer nodded again, his mind racing with a flurry of thoughts and calculations. He was known for his intellect, his ability to piece together intricate patterns and profiles, but now all he could think about was Y/N—her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her presence that had become a constant anchor in his turbulent life.
Emily Prentiss, usually composed and stoic, placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder, her voice wavering soft with sympathy. "We're going to find who did this, Reid," she assured him, her own eyes betraying the weight of their collective grief. "And we'll make sure they pay for what they've done."
But Spencer was barely listening. His attention was fixed on Y/N, kneeling beside her as if in a trance. He reached out hesitantly, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "No," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "No, no, no. We can save her! We can save her! I can save her, please!"
Tears streamed down Spencer's face as he clutched Y/N's cold hand, his fingers trembling against her lifeless skin. The reality of her death crashed over him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and suffocating. He was supposed to be the one who solved puzzles, who found answers where others saw only chaos. But now, faced with the ultimate mystery—the senseless loss of someone he loved—he felt utterly helpless.
Derek knelt beside Spencer, pulling him gently away from Y/N's body. "Spence, she's gone," he said quietly, his voice filled with sorrow. "There's nothing more we can do here."
"No!" Spencer protested, his voice rising in desperation. "There has to be something! I can figure this out, I can find who did this!"
Hotch approached them, his expression grave. "Reid, we need you to focus," he said firmly. "We have a case to solve, and we need your mind clear."
But Spencer couldn't tear his gaze away from Y/N. Her face haunted him—her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about a new book she was reading, the warmth of her touch. They had shared late-night conversations, quiet moments of understanding in the chaos of their work. She had become his anchor, his reason for hope amidst the darkness they faced every day.
As the hours passed and the investigation progressed, Spencer retreated into himself. He answered questions mechanically, analyzed evidence with detached precision, but his mind kept returning to Y/N. The images of her lifeless body flashed before him, tormenting him with their finality.
That night, back at the BAU headquarters, Spencer found himself standing alone in Y/N's empty office. Her desk was cluttered with books and case files, a half-finished cup of coffee still sitting beside her computer. The room felt achingly silent, a stark reminder of her absence.
Derek found Spencer there, staring blankly at Y/N's desk. He approached cautiously, knowing that words alone couldn't ease his friend's grief. "Reid," Derek began gently, "I know this is hard. But blaming yourself won't bring her back."
Spencer turned to him, his eyes hollow with pain. "I should have been faster," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I should have figured it out sooner. Maybe... maybe she'd still be alive."
Derek shook his head, his own eyes filled with sorrow. "Spence, you did everything you could," he insisted, his voice firm yet compassionate. "No one blames you for this. We're a team, and we're going to find justice for her."
Spencer nodded silently, his throat tight with unshed tears. He knew Derek was right—that guilt was a burden he couldn't afford to carry. But the ache in his heart remained, a constant reminder of the life they had lost, of the future they would never share.
In the days that followed, the BAU worked tirelessly to track down Y/N's killer. Garcia sifted through mountains of data, and Emily coordinated with local law enforcement to canvas the area. But for Spencer, the investigation was more than just a case—it was a quest for closure, a way to honor Y/N's memory and the love they had shared.
As they pieced together the evidence, a pattern began to emerge. The unsub—a disturbed Jack Mconnell, with a history of violence and obsession—had fixated on Y/N, seeing her as a symbol of everything he desired but could never possess. His delusions had driven him to commit unspeakable acts, until ultimately ending Y/N's life in a desperate bid to fulfill his twisted fantasies.
When the team finally identified the unsub and cornered him in a remote cabin, Spencer was among those who stormed in, his gun drawn and his heart pounding with a mix of rage and sorrow. The confrontation was brief but intense, ending with a single gunshot that brought Jack to justice. But for Spencer, the closure he sought remained elusive.
That night, standing alone on the balcony of his apartment, Spencer stared up at the stars. Their distant light seemed to mock him, reminding him of the vastness of the universe and the fragility of human life. He thought of Y/N—the way she had believed in him, the way she had made him feel seen and understood in ways he had never thought possible.
The tears finally came then, unchecked and unrestrained. He had always prided himself on his ability to analyze, to compartmentalize his emotions in the face of tragedy. But now, faced with the emptiness of Y/N's absence, he felt utterly and completely lost.
In the weeks and months that followed, Spencer struggled to find his footing. The BAU continued their work, chasing down new cases and unraveling the minds of criminals, but the team dynamics had shifted irreversibly. There was a void where Y/N had once been—a presence that had anchored them all, reminding them of the humanity they fought so hard to protect.
Garcia, ever perceptive and empathetic, made it her mission to check in on Spencer regularly. She brought him his favorite coffee, listened patiently as he rambled about obscure facts and theories, and offered quiet words of comfort when the weight of grief threatened to overwhelm him.
And Derek, unwavering in his support, stood by Spencer's side through it all. He didn't press for conversations or demand explanations. Instead, he simply remained present—a silent pillar of strength in Spencer's darkest moments.
One day, several months after Y/N's death, Spencer found himself standing at her grave. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the headstone engraved with her name. He placed a bouquet of flowers—a mix of lilies, her favorite—and knelt beside the grave, his fingers tracing the letters of her name.
"I miss you," Spencer whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "Every day, I miss you."
He stayed there until the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, his heart heavy with the weight of his grief. But amidst the pain, there was a glimmer of something else—a determination to honor Y/N's memory, to carry her with him in everything he did.
And as he stood to leave, he made a silent vow to never forget—the love they had shared, the moments they had cherished, and the promise of a future that had been stolen away.
copyright 2021 heizenka, all rights reserved. I do not allow my creations to be published of translated anywhere else so please do not repost.
#angst#spencer reid x reader angst#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#derek morgan#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#bau team#bau
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