#but I still stand by the fact that it's likely much better than the other two
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friendly game
[full series]
mdni ! art, tashi, patrick
summary: pinning two of the greatest tennis players of our future will not work with you and tashi, in fact, you’ve learnt to share your prizes.
deep breaths. you take deep breaths when taking your racket out of its bag, all five fingers wrapping around the grip tightly, that is so intensely watched by two pairs of curious eyes from above in the stands, inaudibly gawking at the way your black tennis dress, sporting a small nike logo above your left breast, flourishes from around your thighs to expose the surfaces of your skin that don’t see the sun very often.
maybe the single most important game at the 2006 US open, between two upcoming tennis prodigies that also happen to be best friends. an oxymoron on the court really, tashi’s in white, you in black, her in adidas, you in nike, her hair in a tight braid, yours slicked into a low bun. eyes are torn completely apart as the both of you travel across the court, rebutting every single one of each others moves like a choreographed dance, the jaws of your audience slacked open. everybody remains paralysed, leaving the squeaks of your shoes and the heavy grunts of your labour to echo across the stands—until hands grip onto neighbouring knees and the final shot is swung.
“yes!” you shriek, throwing your racket to the ground in ecstasy, letting it bounce back behind you and the strings to shrivel from the force. from across the court, tashi heaves with squinted eyes, watching your celebration with parted lips and stepping closer to the net where you meet her—your arms wrapping around each others glistening shoulders and chests pressing firmly against one another, “good game” she tilts her head to whisper her appraisals and you hum a sweet note, flashing her a smile while the two men blink down at you. their minds completely empty apart from a state of euphoria, seeing two of the most beautiful women they had ever laid their eyes on embrace after a game that was essentially life or death. already replaying the erotic extensions of your legs at every side step, hips swivelling and slender arms extending to shape an image from within the deepest depths of their minds.
the same way that they stood completely still and fixated onto the images of you at the celebratory party hosted for you and tashi. the blonde haired boy taking sips of his drink between all the thoughts that expel from the image of you, mid underhand serve, and run through his mind. while the other faces an image of tashi, mid overhead, and tries not to make it obvious that his gaze slips into imagining anything other than what is underneath those clothes she endorses.
even when you notice their toying eyes, approaching you sat knee-to-knee with tashi at a table having just spent the last twenty minutes dancing with one another that hadn’t gone unnoticed by them either, “art donaldson and patrick zweig, right?” their eyes are momentary frozen wide before art exhales an exasperated breath, choking up on nothing. “in the flesh” patrick mumbles, fidgeting with the rim of his coke bottle. your eyes dart from one boy to another, left to right, both of their shoulders tensing as they watch tashi’s lips uncurl from the pink straw of her orange drink, guiding the bottle towards your own lips, pressing the straw into your mouth nonchalantly to share a sip of the beverage, and the sweetness of her lip gloss.
“that, that game…it was seriously breathtaking” art chokes out to the both of you, looking down admirably at you and noticing the small freckles the sun has peppered on your nose that hadn’t been visible from the top of the stands. tashi thanks him, putting the straw back into her own mouth and projecting a mental image of you and her swapping more than saliva into patrick’s mind.
his feet shuffle on the spot, shaking away the thought, “you dealt with the loss much better than i would’ve.” lightheartedly he jokes, gesturing towards tashi and sending her a small smile, “how do you two stay friends?”
“we’ve been friends since childhood,” tashi takes a glance at you, but you’re already looking back, “there’s no bad blood, we learn from eachother.” the palm of her hand flattens on your thigh momentarily, leaning back further into the couch. patrick and art huff, elbowing one another, “just like us.”
they flatter the two of you, showering you with compliments, all while trying to make it seem as if they hadn’t been discussing what exactly they would say to you for the past couple hours, until you and tashi were standing in front of their hotel room door, silently leaning closer to hear whatever was going on inside. “they don’t have time to come here” a muffled voice speaks from behind the door, and another groans loudly.
you and tashi share a small smirk, holding back laughter when she knocks on the door to hear a sudden ruckus.
“hi” “hey” they sing simultaneously, mouths agape like two little dogs, panting at the sight of a treat, or drooling at the ring of a bell. neither you nor tashi even have the time to greet them, patrick opening the door a little wider and beckoning you inside, coming together on the floor of the questionably coloured carpet with a single can of beer in the middle.
patrick leans back onto his hands. “so, when did you two become friends?” tashi points a finger between the two, wrapping her arms around her knees and tilting her head in curiosity. “we’ve been bunkmates since we were twelve” he answers, and art glances down at his crossed legs with a nervous smile. you nod your head, whispering a small “cute” under your breath and brushing patrick’s wrist with your fingers when taking the beer he offers, making the hairs on his arms stand upright. the beer is warm and bitter, and you pass the can to tashi after leaving a wet imprint of your lips that art would try to discreetly swipe his tongue over only moments later.
“you share girls often?” you ask and patrick’s brows quirk up, corner of his mouth tilting upwards. “this is our first time.” art says, pinkish blush spreading across his nose and the apples of his cheeks that implies his mind is drifting somewhere else. “why? are we not your type?” tashi laughs, leaning over towards art and tucking her hair behind her ears, his eyes following her closely, “aren’t you two everybody’s type?”
the boys shift in their positions, patrick lifting his hips up into the air briefly to get a little more comfortable and art pressing his hands into his knees, sharing a glance between them. all of the breath you exhale meshes into a palpable energy, and your gaze switches between art and patrick in a way they’ve already grown to love, their faces twitching with an eager awkwardness, “are you each other’s type?”
art chuckles out, “no…no.” he denies with a head shake, patrick peering over his shoulder at him silently, “no, we’ve never done anything like that.”
your’s and tashi’s eyes meet briefly, lips turning up into a smile.
“well…” patrick begins and art immediately jerks his head towards him, hoping that he wasn’t about to say the one thing he didn’t want to share, “i mean…”
“patrick, no.”
“don’t be shy, you have to tell us now” you tempt, a playful glint in the glance you give art.
patrick clears his throat, “you know, i just, taught art how to jerk off” he explains casually art’s right of passage while he holds his head in shame, painting an image of him being covered in his own ejaculation, over his stomach and legs like he had just “spilled milk” all over himself.
“that was a really adorable story” tashi hums, placing a hand on your shoulder to hoist herself up from the floor, and reaching out to help you up too. two pairs of eyes follow you around intently, admiring the tips of your fingers that swipe over various objects in their hotel room and feeling a little embarrassed about how obvious it is that they cleaned it only around 10 minutes ago. random pairs of boxers making an appearance from underneath the two single beds that they had pushed together, and an alarming amount of cigarette ash on the surface of the drawers.
tashi’s hand finds your wrist and guides you onto their bed where you take a seat patiently, criss-crossed, waiting for one of the boys to catch on and join you, while they are utterly immersed in the idea that the two of you are real and really in their bed.
silently, you usher them towards you with a tilt of the head, both of them jumping to their feet, basically leaping onto the bed so all four of you make a square, knees very slightly brushing against one another. theres a silent anticipation, tension weaving around all of you and luring your bodies closer. you take a quick look at each of their faces, their dilated pupils and irregular breaths, and move your lips closer to art’s, watching him inhale deeply like he wants to take all the air from your lungs for himself. then patrick, that selfishly attempts to lean his face closer before you can pull away.
you look towards tashi, who inches her face closer to yours, lips parted slightly and meeting in the middle for a kiss. in your peripheral vision, it’s hard not the notice the way that art and patrick are restraining themselves from punching a fist into the air out of joy, loud and shallow breaths caressing your cheeks. your mouth opens wider, leaning in deeper to consume every part of tashi’s lips in a hungry craze while her hand reaches into your hair to pull you closer. the two other men that keenly wait had slipped out of mind, still staring with a captivated stillness when you pull away from one another.
all you have to do is lean back onto your hands for art to pounce onto the side of your neck that becomes exposed, while patrick leans in to plant a kiss onto tashi’s jaw. on the surface their lips travel across the curve of your necks, heads fallen back, suctioning until they can taste the flavour of your perfume that lingers on your skin, while your hands exchange messily beneath; art’s touch feathering on your arm and reaching for tashi’s shoulder, and patricks arms intertwining with art’s to extend and touch your’s and tashi’s thighs.
patrick nuzzles his lips into divot the beneath tashi’s ear, journeying across her shoulder and onto your own in one smooth line, nearly head-butting with art when he shuffles to grace tashi with the same tender attention.
your hands scrunch into patrick’s dark hair, body involuntarily aching until you draw him closer to your face by the chin to connect with his lips. he balances himself in front of you, planting his hands at your sides to allow him to move even closer to you all while tashi hums into art’s gently mingling lips.
pulling back from patrick, you move onto art’s swollen mouth that glistens with lip gloss, tasting the remnants of tashi and yourself on them. all four of your faces coming together in the middle, so close that there is a dangerous lack of oxygen.
tongues pressing flat on top of another, swiping over bottom lips to feel every ridge and an accumulation of hot air. you become lightheaded at the different hands that grope over your figure, being pulled in by the back of your neck. there’s a contrast in the way each one of them kisses; tashi’s lips are familiar and firm, patrick’s are similar in their starved manner, and art’s yearn to take every molecule you are made of and ingest it.
tashi catches on immediately to the way that your left hand squeezes hers and pulls back to leave only art and patrick breathlessly grasping onto the others torso, noses pressing against each other at every tilt of the head and tongues slipping astray. the moment is only short, you and tashi glancing at one another, unbothered at whether they have noticed that you’re gone or secretly fulfilling a guilty hankering.
“okay.” tashi says, slapping her palms across her legs and sending a smile at the two boys. bottom lips slicked with one another’s saliva they remain frozen, only inches apart.
“goodnight, we have an early morning tomorrow.” you buzz, patrick and art separating only to let you slide past them on the bed, tashi following close behind and you wrapping your arms around her bicep absentmindedly.
neither one of them are able to make a sound, mouthing a “goodnight” that isn’t audible, admiring the way both of your curly brown hair sways behind you, walking out in the matching shorts they wonder if you ever swap.
they look at one another, then at the imprints in the floral blanket that your bodies left, scrunches where exactly you sat that they are both ready to smush their faces into. all while you and tashi stand outside of their hotel room once again, tuning in to the muffled dialogue about art’s grandmother before scurrying down the hotel hallway—hand in hand.
#challengers#challengers x reader#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#tashi duncan x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x you#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson fic#patrick zweig#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig fic#tashi duncan#tashi duncan smut#tashi duncan x you#tashi duncan fic
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the alchemy | shauna shipman x reader
what if I told you I'm back?
see what I did there? :)
anyway, I'm back.
this week I'll probably update for more days in a row (tonight, maybe tomorrow and sunday too), because tomorrow is a holiday here in brazil and, as I have more time to post than on regular days, I decided to reward you.
better prepare, because this is my first oneshot with shauna and I really hope you like it (I put my best effort into it because shauna is my favorite character, so that's it, I hope it turned out good.)
obviously the whole thing is a reference to "the alchemy" by taylor swift, so I also hope you managed to convey what I meant by interpreting the song.
enjoy!
sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!
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the alchemy | shauna shipman x reader
-> prompt: you and the midfielder are secretly dating. <-
warnings: non cannon, no crash, most fem!reader but it works for gender neutral readers too, some swear words, jock!shauna, sub!reader, soft dom!shauna, jealous!shauna, very subtle smut (because I still don't know how to write one), secret relationship, platonic!jackie x reader.
***
Honestly, you could get used to it.
It wasn't like it was the worst thing in the world to not be able to admit that you and Shauna were properly together to your friends, even your closest ones. In fact, it was even exciting for you to be in a secret relationship. As an extremely private and intense person, you would hate someone noticing while you and your girlfriend were kissing in any corner and feeling entitled to have an opinion about it.
Honestly, it was much better this way. Just the two of you. And your parents. The only ones who knew you were getting to know each other better.
The whole thing started that same year, after the boring science fair proposed by the most boring teacher in the world, in which you had to stand in front of your booth with a failed attempt at a volcano that worked with detergent and bicarbonate. Shauna was at the booth next to you, also with an attempt at a ladybug that worked using a cell phone battery to get around, and she was kind enough to praise your botched project, unlike the other colleagues.
But you didn't really talk until days later. You started to notice her more, of course, more than before - because the idea that the Yellowjackets were extremely popular because of their victories over the other teams at school wasn't enough - but you didn't catch her attention until the day you were walking across the field to deliver a piece of homework to Coach Martinez and one of her kicks accidentally hit you in the face.
When you woke up, in the infirmary with a broken nose and horrible-tasting medicine, Shauna Shipman was next to you, in the worn yellow armchair next to the infirmary bed, and began pouring every apology possible in your direction, while your head was spinning and you were still groggy, looking like you were asleep.
It was the worst night's sleep you had in your life. And honestly, after that, nights of sleep were rare for you, so it didn't matter.
The thing is, Shauna was unintentionally becoming popular, and she couldn't blow the opportunity by publicly dating someone who wasn't even overly well-known - even though the kick and the broken nose had made you pretty famous in the hallways for a few weeks -. Not only because of that, but also because of the gossip and intrusions, which always happened, and which was a little more serious than the growing popularity of your girlfriend.
***
"Excuse me, can I steal Shauna for a few minutes?"
The girls on the team were sitting in the stands, after an electrifying game that brought them closer and closer to entering nationals, and Shauna hadn't come to celebrate with you as usual. Usually, whenever the Yellowjackets won, she would come running into your arms in the stands, and then you would be making out in the locker room, hiding in the small bathroom stalls, trying to escape the concentration of girls in the place.
But this time, probably to keep up appearances and for the sake of euphoria, Shauna hadn't run to you, even though she knew you were there watching her and cheering for every pass. It wasn't taken personally, of course not, because you knew that Shauna and all the students were having chaotic exam weeks and their heads were full of more important things than relationships.
She smiled as soon as she saw you put an arm around her, and, faced with the incredibly provocative looks of the other girls, with expressions of someone who already knows everything, Shauna stood up, following you, her foot limping a little from the wear and tear of running so much around the field for ninety minutes.
You checked out less-observed places and found the closest tree, and then she pressed you against the trunk and, with her hands on your face, kissed you passionately, like she always did. The butterflies in your stomach were having a party, coming and going every time her cold lips touched yours.
"You were great, baby-"
You tried to speak, but she interrupted you by pressing the kiss further.
"Shut up, let me enjoy you for a little while, then you can talk to me all night, okay?", she whispered, kissing you again, before breaking the kiss after a few seconds, to breathe. You were trying to balance yourself and placed your hands on her shoulders, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry I didn't come to you when the game ended, beautiful, my head was… a mess."
"It's okay, love. I'm proud of you for winning."
"The merit is not just mine, but I can live with it." She laughed, hugging you around your waist and resting her head on your shoulder. "So? What do you want for today? Movie night? Bar? Pizza?"
"It's your turn to choose…"
"Ah, right… I guess I have some great plans for us, then."
Her look was suggestive, and you pulled her a little closer just for the grace of kissing her again, amidst your smiles and laughter. This time, however, the kiss didn't last long. They were interrupted by Lottie calling for Shauna.
"See you on the way out, baby…", she murmured, before giving you one last peck and leaving, sweating, panting, leaving you with only the taste of mint, sweat and a silly smile, as you slid your body through the trunk, melted.
Honestly, just the two of you knowing what was going on there was the best thing you could have asked for. Because you were a good match, after all.
***
The topic of "Jeff's party" never became more talked about than weeks after the Yellowjackets won yet another title. You weren't that good friends with Jackie's boyfriend, and if you had to choose, you'd rather stay at home drinking and watching movies with Shauna, but there wasn't much choice. The Yellowjackets were a reserved seat in the venue, and there was no way to deny the invitation after so long.
Also because Shauna and Jackie were best friends, and you couldn't let your girlfriend make the mistake of hurting her best friend over a secret she could "never" tell her about. It wouldn't be that bad, despite the idea of staying away from Shauna so as not to flag you up. It was an easy problem to solve.
The huge balcony of the Sadecki house. The luxurious bathrooms. The bathtub was big enough and the walls were even bigger to muffle the sounds of your laughter and kisses and moans. There would be no problem.
Except it was tempting to formulate an escape plan that actually worked.
And, of course, you couldn't escape the blandishments of Jackie Taylor, who, as Shauna's best friend, demanded to know why the two of you were always together, and why you were reluctant to come - and bringing the brunette along with this idea - and why you didn't know how to dance like her.
Well, you had never been close enough to Jackie to talk about interesting things with her, but now, at the full party and with the bunch of teenagers shouting over the loud music, it was easy to start a conversation. And it's not like she doesn't also have high marks in charisma to bring up the best topics and take you along with her.
But if you could stop to notice the looks on all the teenagers' faces dancing and drinking to Britney Spears, you'd be able to find Shauna's brown eyes fumming as she watched Jackie put her hand on your shoulders and make you sway to her rhythm.
It was as if you were harmless fucking prey living your ordinary life, and she was the hungry, desperate predator imagining imminent scenarios of how to hunt you down and take out all your flesh in one fell swoop.
Her eyes were covered by the red plastic cup that contained the liquid she needed to numb herself so she wouldn't see the rest of that humiliating scene and end up ruining Jeff's party, but things didn't get much better for you and Jackie because, at the very least, as you waited, the room started chanting "Hips Don't Lie", and you had to deal with the most intimidating scene of your entire life.
Jackie started holding onto you in the pre-chorus and, probably without meaning to, began to sway more deeply to the beat of the song, her arms around you, her lips firm on your ear near your neck, her cool breath making you shiver.
Shauna rolled her eyes, biting herself with jealousy and trying to control the urge to take Jackie away from you. Of course, half of all things were caused by drinking, but still, she was sure that you should pay for what it was doing to her.
Without thinking twice, Shauna simply stepped into the middle of the dance floor and wrapped her arms around you, taking Jackie out of the picture by taking you a little further away from her.
"What the fuck, Shauna?"
First name. Calling by nickname even with the sound turned up at the highest volume at a party full of people would not be helpful.
She glanced at you and took another sip, her brown eyes deep into you for a while.
"Shauna, what did I do wrong? We were just dancing!", you defended yourself, when you didn't get a response, and that didn't help either. The silence hovered and continued until it became torturous enough for you to want to leave, taking her by force, in a state that was a bit too worrying for both of you.
***
"I told you we could have stayed home, but you insisted on coming."
"And that doesn't mean I need to drag you everywhere I go, (Y\N)."
"We're going to fight, then, is that it?"
Taking your eyes off the road, crossing the street of her house - which you already knew by heart -, you faced Shauna, who snorted, crossed her arms and stared at the landscape in the passenger seat window, without responding. After seconds of silence and Johnny Cash's low voice filling the room, she whispered, whimpering.
"I'm sorry, baby, I don't know what came over me, it's just…", Shauna sighed, and whimpered again. "Damn, she was practically having sex with you in front of everyone, and I couldn't let my best friend take advantage of the person I'm dating like that!"
You sighed too, realizing that, despite her drunken state, Shauna still had a modicum of sanity to admit that every now and then she went overboard with excessive jealousy. Now, still, you could forgive her, and you did, sliding your free hand up her thigh, your eyes quickly turning to her face.
"I'm sorry, too, I should have watched myself more."
"Okay, anyway", the brunette whispered, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "Stop the car."
"What?"
"Do what I'm asking, (Y\N), stop the fucking car."
Her tone. You closed your eyes and felt your legs tremble as you swallowed down all your fear and tension.
Obligingly, you stopped the car on an empty road and, while the other cars and pedestrians did their best to ignore you, Shauna ripped off her seat belt and climbed into your seat, sitting between your legs with a mischievous smile. Her hands snaked around your neck and she pushed herself closer as she felt your hands trail down to her hips.
"Hm, I like that. Now… I'm going to show you how to bounce for someone for real."
Your eyes widened, surprised by Shauna's malicious response, but you didn't reprimand her, much less retort. And when she began to truly bounce on you, even in the awkward seat of the car, her breathing became labored the moment the first movement began. Your nails pressed into her thigh, and Shauna moaned in satisfaction, very softly, leaning down to kiss your neck and nibble a little, because she knew you loved it.
In fact, post-fight sex was a recurring thing between you.
Your nails went down a little, squeezing her ass as she kissed you, and then you repeated the same action, hearing even more of your girlfriend's satisfying moans. Thinking about how good it was to fuck her like this, without anyone knowing, without anyone noticing. It was the best feeling ever. You wouldn't trade it for anything.
And you knew that, deep down, neither did she.
Shauna soon left her fancy clothes thrown in the backseat, and you did the same. Shortly after, you jumped into the backseat and started doing what you regularly did, without shame, without fear. Your hands slid down to take off her bra, and she did the same thing to you with the intention of leaving you completely naked in front of her.
With kisses, nibbles, touches and silly hands, you enjoyed that night like no other, before leaving again and returning to your homes as if nothing had happened.
***
"Are you waiting for someone, baby?"
Shauna whispered, startling you, as you sat waiting for her in the locker room after another of the electrifying games in which the Yellowjackets had come out on top once again. It wasn't even new anymore now.
Her laugh felt good in your ear, but you didn't have time to appreciate what she could give you in return, because you were soon pushed into the bathroom stall again, and Shauna resumed the trail of kisses she was trying yesterday along your face and body, trying to remain as silent as possible so as not to alarm any of the girls.
You responded, but it was impossible to hold back, especially when she lowered her kisses to your neck and made you want to scream by holding back your moan. Shauna was loving it, on the other hand, and just kept pushing more and more, for the grace of being able to play with you and your sanity without fear of what would come.
Or at least, who would come…
"Shauna, would you have a tampon- WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"
Jackie shouted, making you pull away from your girlfriend instantly, eyes rolling back and a sigh of almost relief escaping your lips. Shauna laughed mockingly and scratched her forehead, shaking her head.
"Can one of you explain this to me?", Jackie demanded and, instinctively, you noticed that the other girls were also with their little heads stretched towards the bathroom stall, trying to see something.
Shauna rushed in, pushing you out of the way and going to her best friend, her brown eyes downcast, dilated, the expression of someone who had just been defeated. "I've been fucking (Y\N) for a while now. That's basically it, if you haven't figured it out yet."
"Shauna!", you scolded her, even though you didn't know what to say to fix that mistake. Even more defeated, you nodded, pursing your lips. "Yeah, it is what it is, there's nothing more to say."
"You two better have a good explanation for all this, or I'm going to turn your heads into mobiles for my house one by one, I swear to God."
Jackie shouted, and, realizing that there was no longer any way to hide it from anyone - not even from yourselves -, you nodded, leaving the bathroom and going after the girl captain, trying to correct that mistake.
Well, now it was done. You had been discovered. And honestly, maybe being caught in the act just made this whole secret relationship thing even better.
You didn't even care much, to be honest. If you could still kiss and make out with Shauna as much as you wanted — even with her teammates whispering all over the place —that would be enough.
#yellowjackets#yellowjackets x reader#shauna shipman x reader#sophie nelisse x reader#lgbt#angst#romance#smut#shitty smut#actually i don't think it's one of my best works#i'll improve later i promise#shauna please be my jock girlfriend
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bad ideia right?
Jason x Roy x Fem!Reader
Notes: I've been cooking this JayRoy x Fem!Reader for some time now, the only thing is... I got excited and ended up writing waaaay too much so this will be separeted in two parts. This is part one, if you guys like it lemme know if you want part two, pls!!!
WARNINGS: Talks about stalking, nearly death experince, violence, murderer, being socialy secluded, a lot of complicated feelings. This is part 1!
Words: 4,7k
Synopsis: It never crossed Roy's mind that his cute civilian ex would be knocking at his apartmant door asking for help. Jason never tought that he would've to help his boyfriend with his ex, but he is, especially because she might die if they don't help her out.
Things are not so great at the moment. And she knows it, that's why she stands in front of her ex boyfriend's apartment door, picking at her nails and looking everywhere but the door. She knows she shouldn't be looking for him, but in the situation that she finds herself, Roy may be the only person that can help her out. Rationality, she knows it's no biggie, showing up and asking for her ex boyfriend, who is a very known vigilante, to save her skin. However, emotionally, she knows it's fucked up.
Taking a deep breath, she knows it's a bad idea, but she reaches for the door and knocks. Taking a step back, y/n can feel her muscles starting to shake in a nervous fit.
It's been two years since she saw Roy for the last time, and she wonders how much has changed since then.
The door is open and y/n looks up, to find a tall brunette looking at her with an arched eyebrow. She smiles, trying to be polite. He doesn't smile back.
“Hi! Is this Roy Harper's apartment?” She asks, still picking at her nails and the man in front of her notices.
“Yes” he answers, his voice deep and intimidating and for the first time she knows for a fact that this is more than a bad idea, it's a terrible one. But then again, it's better than dying.
“Is he home?” The man crosses his big arms over his chest, taking in a more intimidating stance than before.
“Yes”
He is not the most polite ever, and it's starting to make y/n panic turn into frustration very quickly.
“Can I talk to him?” the man clicks his tongue, obviously not liking her request. Well, what can she do, a girl needs to try her shot.
“Who is at the door, love?” a familiar voice asks and now she understands. The huge guy in front of her is acting up in a jealous fit. Does he know who she is? Probably.
“Your ex” he says, and yeah, he knows who she is.
They can hear steps coming in the direction of the door and a very confused Roy shows up, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and his hair is longer, long enough to be put up in a man bun. Cute.
“Y/n?” He is pale and it seems like he just saw a ghost in front of him. She smiles and gives a tiny wave, not knowing how to act. When she decided to ask Roy for help, she knew that there was the chance for this to happen. A chance to find out about his new partner, a chance that he would look terrified, a chance that he would say no and let her die. Simple stuff.
“Hi, Roy” things are awkward, the three of them looking at each other like idiots.
“What are you doing here?” Roy seems offended that she ever had the guts to show up like this and honestly, she understands him and would deal with this situation in a more aggressive way if it was her in his place.
“I need your help” she can feel her cheeks burning and her heart rate increase, she feels the sting of a broken nail and her palms are sweating.
“With what?” Who asks the question is the brunette man, and y/n finally looks at him. He is wearing the same attire as Roy, paired up with a long sleeve black compression shirt, and she realizes how big he actually is. If he wanted to, he could throw her through the stairs of the building with ease. He is scary.
Instead of actually answering the brunette, she started rambling all of her thoughts to them, feeling her chest tight.
“I know you told me not to go, I know you said my brain would put me in danger one day and that my smart mouth would kill me and honestly I never believed you, but I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, Roy.” Desperation seeps through her voice, making her look ridiculous but the amount of panic in the woman in front of Roy only sparks his worry.
“What the fuck did you do?” He asks, taking her wrist and pulling her inside the apartment, practically throwing her in their living room.
“I stumbled across files I should have not stumbled across.” Roy Harper is not a man to worry, unless it's his daughter, Jason or Dinah. Or Y/n.
She was always one to worry about. Always too smart for her own good, always too clever to her own safety, always too curious. She found out way too easily his identity as Arsenal when they were dating. He knew that one day she would have a price over her head.
“What does that mean, y/n?” He is basically yelling at her now, frustrated that she doesn't give him the information he needs. She pouts, hating the fact that Roy is yelling at her.
“It means you were right, ok? I am too curious for my own good and now some rich people want me dead.”
Fuck it.
Jason didn't see this one coming, not even a thousand miles away. When he woke up this morning, sore from their last mission, he wouldn't have guessed that Roy's most recent ex and only civilian ex, would show up at their doorstep asking for Roy to save her skin from rich people.
Jason sighs, drawing the attention to him. He closes his eyes, hoping this is some weird dream, but when he opens them again, two pairs of eyes are staring at him. He thanks the gods that Lian is with Alfred.
“And how could Roy help you?” Jason asks, wondering what is going through this stranger woman's head.
“As Arsenal, obviously” she says, as if Jason is one dumb fucker, and he can't believe that this is happening.
“She knows?” Roy shrugs, as if saying ‘I have no control over that’.
“She found out when we were three months into the relationship” Jason looks at her again, shocked with this new piece of information. He knew they dated for over a year, and also knew how heartbroken Roy was when she left to live in Ireland because of a job opportunity. He didn't know she knew about Arsenal, though.
“It was actually quite easy to figure it out” she says, her eyes roaming over him, not in a ‘I am attracted to you’ way but in ‘who are you?’ type of way, and that made an uneasy feeling set in Jason's stomach.
“How?” He needs to know how she found out, how her brain works. Jason knows a lot of people, for fucks sake, he knows Tim and Tim found out Robin's identity at the age of nine, not many things shook him, but it's eight in the morning and this woman is definitely weird.
“I noticed they have the same scar on the left arm”
Jason's eyes bulge just a little and he looks at his boyfriend, who is looking at the floor, probably embarrassed with how easily a civilian found out his identity.
“I know” the read head says, clicking his tongue “she is a freak with that brain of hers”
It's y/n's turn to sigh, rolling her eyes. She looks at Jason again and says, very calmly.
“I knew I could say Roy is Arsenal near you because I firmly believe you already knew. Not because he told you, but because you are like him” the nervous and anxious girl from before is gone and she looks more confident and comfortable, and that uneasy feeling of having someone with a bigger brain than yours in the room comes back to Jason's stomach.
“And why's that?” Roy chuckles, and Jason looks at him with a quizzical look but the redhead says nothing, just smiles.
“You keep analyzing me, noticing every single move I make. For a guy your size you are very quiet and silent” she point out, numbering everything she says in her manicured fingers “Also, you keep reaching for your thigh, as if you keep looking for a gun in a holster” Y/n points to his hand, resting in his left thigh, and he wants to curse himself.
“I will make an educated guess and say you are Red Hood, the guy that is always with Arsenal” She says and smiles, tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck that has a hand imprint on it. “You are him, aren't you?”
Jason nods, not verbally answering her, but he knows there is no use lying since she knows about Roy's identity. What actually sparks his interest is the marks in her neck. She notices him looking and she once again hides her skin from them. Jason looks at Roy, to see if he saw the same as him, and his boyfriend's gaze is focused on y/n neck as well. There is more to this story than she is truly telling, and they know.
“She found out about Dinah in forty minutes in the same room as her.” Roy says, instead of saying something about the purple marks, walking to the kitchen to get a water bottle for himself.
Jason looks at her, doing exactly what she said he was doing before, but now he takes his time. Analyzing her. Meanwhile, she keeps an eye on Roy, who is not caring at all about the exchange behind him.
Roy turns around, holding his water bottle and looks at the two of them. He drinks all the water with a few gulps, feeling the cold water calm him down to the conversation he will soon have. He really wants to know who is the fucker that tried to choke her to death and left those marks on her smooth skin.
“Come with me” he says, pointing at a very shocked Jason and a very smug y/n to follow him.
The three of them get in a room decorated to be a study, Roy sits on a couch in the corner of the room and Jason sits next to him, his big arm going around Roy's shoulders.
“Explain yourself, pookie” Roy says and y/n takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts to start explaining herself to the two vigilantes in front of her.
“It all started a few months ago when Campbell Enterprises, the place I worked at, developed a new project. One that was secretive and only a few would participate, the HR did a whole campaign to encourage us to participate in the selective process to choose the ones that would be a part of this new project. I was hoping I was not chosen, honestly, I was fine with the workload I already had at my lab at the time, but it was mandatory to participate” she pauses, taking a deep breath and looking at the window, watching the sun come through.
“They chose me and a few others to be a part of it, but it was all too secretive, even for us that were working on it. It was tiring, since my regular workload kept coming” she clicks her tongue and blinks, as if she was transported back to the moment that she is telling them about. “One night I stayed later than usual, it was just me in the laboratory, I was tired and annoyed with a few things so I started digging around, just so see if I could see the development of the others that I worked with.”
She blinks again, swallowing tears and looks at them. Roy and Jason are looking at her very attentively, waiting patiently for her to continue. There is no pressure, no tension in the room, just two men looking at her as if she was made of glass and that, for some reason, soothed the pain inside. Y/N is too used to not allowing herself to be fragile, but right now, with Jason and Roy, she feels that she can allow herself to be a little bit vulnerable.
“That's how I ended up coming across the real motivation of the project. They told us that we were developing a new medicine for kids with cancer, when in fact, we were developing a new drug so they could kidnap children and teenagers with more ease.” There is silence in the room and inevitably, they all thought about Lian, that is safely with Alfred, but she could not be, like many others are not.
“And they found out you came across those files and that's how you got five fingers in your neck?” Roy asks, arms crossed and a frown between his eyebrows, looking irritated.
“Not exactly” she says, her right hand going instinctively to her neck, gulping just to remember the touch of that man on her skin. “They found out I knew, but they didn't make it obvious. I knew they would find out eventually and come after me, but until then I thought I could keep living my life.”
Silence reigns the room, the three of them knowing she was just living an illusion until reality came knocking on her door.
“I went out on a date” she says, and that sparks even more their interest. Jason scoffs, not believing what he just heard.
“You knew you had a target on your back and you went on a date?” He asks sarcasm in every word that he says. She nods and Roy looks at her with disbelief in his green eyes.
“I was needy” she simply states, shrugging as if it was not a big of a deal, except it was. “He was a hitman”
Jason and Roy look at each other, not knowing how to actually react to her words. It all seems so out of this world, especially with the way she tells things, so calmly.
“We were kissing, he grabbed my neck and said that I was too curious, he had a good grip but I had a pocket knife” she is smiling and Jason knows for a fact now that she is crazy.
“So you stabbed him” Roy says, a smirk forming in the corner of his red lips. She nods.
“Didn't kill though, just enough to run away” she looks again at the window and takes a deep breath, “that's how I ended up in an airplane to Gotham. I called Dinah and asked where you lived, she told me you moved to Gotham, gave me your address and that's how I ended up here.”
She looks at them again and they can see in her eyes that she is lost. Desperate. In panic and disbelief of herself. What Jason can't see but Roy can is that Y/n truly believes she is going to die if they don't help her out.
Roy is not happy to have his ex, who broke his heart even if their break up was mutual and mature, standing in front of him. Roy is not happy that Dinah just gave information on him so easily. But he is less happy with the idea of y/n dying. No, he gets angry just with the idea of her not existing anymore.
And Jason may not know y/n, but he knows his boyfriend. He knows Roy just as well he knows himself and Jason can see it in the redhead's eyes that they will help her out, even if it fails, they will try their best. Jason can also see the care and admiration in Roy's eyes every time he looks at her, it's the same way Roy looks at him.
Jason will have to swallow his pride and jealousy, because he is going to help his boyfriend's ex to not die.
“We will help you” Roy says, looking at Jason for support and he finds everything he needs in his lover's eyes.
“But with a few conditions” Jason says, now looking at the younger woman. He knows she is younger than them, but now she truly looks like it. The sun is bathing her from her side, making her eyes shine and seem bigger, her lips are painted a glossy red and her cheekbones are chubby and pink. He can't deny, she is adorable and pretty.
“Anything” she says, her lips quivering just slightly. Jason smirks, he knows he is an asshole, but he also gets the job done.
“You will be staying at one of your monitored safe houses, and you won't leave the house, unless one of us is with you.” Roy nods, his gaze focused on her. The redhead forgot how beautiful she looks with her hair down and a turtleneck and he can't stop staring at her now that he noticed.
“We will make the groceries for you, just give a list. Also only burner phones and not social media” Roy says, and y/n was expecting nothing less than that. She is asking for them to keep her alive and she knows they will do it, even if it means keeping her away from society for a while.
“And we need all the information that you have” Jason finishes, reclining himself against the couch, relaxing his muscles.
Y/n stares. She was always curious and when she thinks something - or someone - is pretty, she stares. She didn't look at Jason until she did, and now that she sees what Roy sees, she can't stop looking.
They are both attractive men, she can't decide which she will take a look at longer, her brain working faster than normal to keep up with everything that she is thinking, from the information that they need to Jason's muscles and Roy's pretty lips.
She knows it's going to be a long ride with those two around her.
4 MONTHS LATER
It was comfortable to stay hidden from society while Roy and Jason were dealing with the issue she put herself in. It is comfortable to stay in and watch movies, read books and cook whatever she feels like cooking. It is comfortable not having to go out to do her own grocery shopping, since Jason did that for her in the last four months, and he never forgot anything from the list. It is comfortable to have them around all the time, it is comfortable to have Lian over on the weekends to play with dolls and paint ceramics with her.
However she knows it's not going to last any longer. Actually, all this comfortable scenario is over as she stares at Roy and listens to him talk.
“It’s all over, we fixed everything up, you can go back to living your life, pookie” he says, his green eyes shining with something she can’t quite comprehend, but she knows the feeling that is attached to her chest. He is sitting in a chair in front of her, only a table stopping Y/N to reach out and hug him until her heart stops growing with pain.
She got comfortable, she created an illusion for herself once again. They were there almost everyday, talking, making jokes and eating homemade food made by her, she even got to befriend Jason in the first month, just to develop feelings for him in the third. In the second month she already knew she still loved Roy with her whole soul, and seeing him so dedicated to see her safe again only intensified that.
She can’t explain, really, how she feels. She just knows its different but she loves them both. Roy is like a ray of sunshine that comes through the window, always warm and welcoming, always making her feel important and cared about. He was always good at making her feel like she is the only girl in the world, like she is actually important and easy to love. It's hard to let those feelings for him go, since she can’t get enough of his smile, his green eyes and his stupid jokes. She thinks that deep down, she never stopped loving him. It was like coming home from a long trip, the feeling of having Roy around again was that. His hugs became frequent again and she thinks she can’t let him go, the warmth and the intimacy are just too good and keeps her sane in the difficult days.
Jason was a surprise. Y/N never thought it was possible to love two people at the same time and in the same intensity, but so differently from each other. At first, she thought she was going crazy with guilt because she still loves Roy, and Jason is his boyfriend. But then, slowly, she realized she fell for him just as hard as she had fallen for Roy. Jason is attentive, caring and even though he is more introverted, he understands her on a deep level. He knows when she is upset before she even acknowledges herself, he always has a good book recommendation and he always helped her in the kitchen when he could. Lian loves him and he is good with kids just as much as Roy is. He is calm and collected and somehow, he soothes her mind.
She loves them.
But she is sure they don’t love her back.
“Really?” she questions it, not believing that she can once again live in society without risking herself.
“Yes” Jason says, he is behind Roy, his arms crossed and he doesn't look at her for longer than what's enough.
“Everything is clean, then?” She questions it once again, fear creeping inside her head, telling that they couldn’t do anything and that she will die if she leaves their embrace.
“Yes, pookie, everything is clean” Y/N nods, pressing her lips together and looking away from them, not knowing how to actually feel. She is happy that she is once again safe, that she can walk around without risking being murdered, that she can talk longer to her parents. But she can feel that pain in her chest, the one telling her this is the last time she will ever talk to them, see them and feel their presence. She is free to go anywhere, but the only place that she wants is not available for her.
While she sits in sorrow, she doesn’t realize that both men are devastated as well as she is. Roy knew it was possible to love two people at the same time, to want to be romantically with two people at the same time, but it never crossed his mind that he would be living this feeling so intensely. He loves Jason with his soul, he would die for his boyfriend and kill just anyone Jason asked him to kill. But he can’t deny that he also loves Y/N, she is everything he could possibly want and not deserving to have. Her smile, her scent, her eyes, her lips, her body, her hair, everything in her was an invitation to his heart. Roy loves her with his heart, he would do anything for her too, he just did. He killed for her last night just to be sure she would be fine. He doesn’t want to let go, but if that's what she wants, he will do it.
Jason was always skeptical about feelings until he fell for Roy, and he fell hard. He loves Roy more than he could ever be possible, he would take Roy in his worst days just as much as he would take Roy in his good days, and he would go against the world to see his boyfriend happy and calm. Jason stopped drug dealing because he thought it was disrespectful with Roy since he is clean and healthy after a long period of darkness. He takes care of all the things Roy doesn’t want to and he is nice to people that once hurt him because he wants to be good for his boyfriend and to Lian. It never occurred to him that he could possibly fall for Y/N during this time working for her safety. But he did. And it was embarrassing. He could not look at her longer than a few minutes or his mind would drift to scenarios they would never live, and then he would feel guilt eating him up. Jason was going crazy over his feelings for this woman, she was diabolical with the way she made him feel. The way she would make him blush with a brush of fingers while cooking, the way she would make his chest warm with happiness when she smiled at him and the way she would make him feel euphoric when she complimented something about him. She was diabolical, and that's why in the last month he told Roy about his feelings.
Jason remembers how long the talk was, and he was not shocked to know that Roy still loves her and he truly understands the readhad, it's easy to love Y/N. Her ramblings about things she likes, the way she walks on the tip of her toes when happy, the way her hair falls over her eyes when she is focused. Jason feels like he is not some monster around her, she makes him feel light and makes him forget about all the vigilante stuff, he feels normal around her and good, he feels good. She makes it seem it's easy to be around him.
They agreed to let her go if it was truly what she wanted, but if she decided to stay, they already talked about asking her out on a date, with both of them. If she didn’t want them both, they agreed that they would move on. It was the three of them together or nothing.
“What are you going to do now?” Roy asks, voice hoarse trying to keep the tears away. The young woman shrugs, her gaze on the wall next to her, deep in thoughts Roy couldn’t imagine what is about.
“A penny for your thoughts, sweets” Jason says, once again looking at her, he can feel the dread polling at his stomach and he just wants to hold her until she gets tired of him and Roy.
“Thinking about my mom and my dad” she says, finally looking at them with tears stuck in her bottom lashes, making her look like a crying angel in the dim light of the kitchen.
“Are you going to stay with them until you find another job?” the redhead questions, his fingers tapping lightly at the table, a clear sign of anxiety.
“Yeah, I think I will,” she says softly, her shoulders drooping and her head falling, somehow hiding her face from the vigilantes in front of her.
“Nice” Jason says, his voice thick with something not even him can say what it is, but he knows it’s not a good feeling. He feels like he is losing her without trying to actually have her in the first place. “They must miss you”
“They do,” she answers Jason quickly, trying to stop the conversation in its tracks, but it looks like he won’t bite the bullet.
“Where do they live, again?” the brunette asks, not wanting to stop because if they stop talking he won’t be listening to her voice.
“New York City”
Jason clicks his tongue not knowing what to say anymore so he looks at Roy, expecting to see the redhead formulating a plan to keep her around longer, but there is only acceptance in this eyes and Jason knows he lost the battle, he knows she would be leaving soon to NYC and if he tries to stop her, Roy wouldn’t help. Not because he doesn’t love her, but because he isn’t the type to hold people where they don’t want to be.
Roy gets up and smiles fondly at Y/N, hiding his true feelings behind a mask. “If you need anything, just call us.”
She smiles, a tiny one, and nods again understanding that she is not wanted around when in fact what they wanted more is for her to stay with them.
“See you around, boys” she says, leaving for the bedroom that will no longer be hers in the morning.
#dc#dc imagines#dc comics#jason todd#red hood#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#jason todd smut#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x reader smut#jason todd x fem!reader#red hood smut#red hood x reader#roy harper#roy harper x you#roy harper x fem! reader#roy harper smut#arsenal smut#arsenal x reader#arsenal#jay x roy x reader#jayroy x reader#jayroy#jayroy smut#jayroy x fem!reader#fem!reader#latina!reader#planetwaynezwrites#venus writes#planetwaynez
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The people at Idol Factory earn their paychecks AND deserve raises!
Who else is giving me great shots like above or of Kim not being seen as an actual person in the first half of episode four?
She doesn't even see herself!
She never takes a second to focus on herself.
Because even as she leaves, all her focus is on Wan, which is where her focus has always been!
Even homeboy's drone didn't see Kim, but it was great that he was introduced much MUCH higher than her since it seems like he owns the resort, the bar, the gallery, and who even knows what else.
Even when Kim is confronted with some hard truths about Wan never being able to follow through with her promises, KIM STILL DOESN'T LOOK IN THE MIRROR! She is not having a Hot Girl Summer, yet refuses to *reflect* on the reasons why she is not living her best life.
Thanks to her buddy, she getS some clarity, but per usual, Idol Factory puts the focus back on funky sex, and I love that for us.
But while Kim refuses to have a Come to Jesus moment, Wan is being confronted with some hard truths of her own, like her mama gotta a drinking problem.
But her mother is quick to slap people in her defense, so she gets my approval. Sidenote: They go to IDF = Idol Factory School where the the motto is "Knowledge Make Dream Come True" and once they realize they love each other, their dreams will come true . . . literally. *gasp*
Back to the drinking problems! Kim choosing a blue drink when that is one of Wan's colors as she was missing her girl was *chef's kiss*
But the fact that she went from blue light to pink light as she decided to drink the red strawberry margarita instead of her original drink when one of her colors is pink WAS EVEN BETTER since she is starting to pick herself over Wan! This is how you get nominated for a Colors Award.
Also, I do not care how many times Heng plays the disruptor, I will always enjoy him, and I especially like him as Mawin because he immediately appreciates Kim the way she deserves with her tiny lies about not being drunk.
But back to the ladies and colors! As I thought, in the dream world, Wan is in black.
And Kim shows up in white.
But I liked the fireworks showing "Sorry" yet Kim not taking the apology like she usually does.
Because even though they have been through a lot, and Wan used to show up for her, now Wan is all about herself.
I did enjoy the flashback scenes in general since they are wearing crowns with blue and pink jewels.
I'm making no comment about the Pink Box though.
But I am going to state that this blue candy cane dress is fugly just like Wan's wild ass decision to tell Mawin to NOT hire Kim.
However, Kim is in a floral print and they're standing next to Anastasia Balabina's painting of the Redhead Girl and Butterflies, so Kim is ready to spring from her cocoon and be the beautiful butterfly she was meant to be.
So the only butterflies Wan will be left with are the ones on her ears.
And her body
Because the color-coded girl she loves is about to spread her wings and FLY AWAY!
Alexa, play Mariah Carey's "Butterfly"!
#my marvellous dream is you#the colors mean things#color coded girls in love#background noise#the butterflies‚ the colors‚ the shots = MARVELOUS!#visual rhetoric stacked on more visual rhetoric#this show is feeding me so well
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MY LTWT 2022 vs MY FITFWT 2024 EXPERIENCE
This past Saturday, May 18th, I went to Louis’ show in Argentina, and I have a lot to say about it…
Let’s start with the show in general. When Louis announced the stadium he would be performing in (one show at Vélez Sarsfield - Capacity: 50k), in my mind I was already considering there was no chance of a sold out show, I already knew it wasn't going to happen. And it’s not that I don't believe in him or the amount of fans he has, but these are basic math to do and simple comparisons with his show in 2022 (two shows at Movistar Arena - Capacity: 15k). I won't go into details, but the chance of him selling out were a few, I won't say it was impossible, but it was difficult.
Here in Argentina, attending shows has become something that not everyone can afford to do, due to the high prices of the tickets. Besides the fact that many fans come from other provinces or distant cities, they need to pay for transport, hotel, food, etc. So, we can also blame the country's economy for not being able to sell out.
Although I maintain that the stadium was too big for him.
Let's not forget (or at least Argentinian fans still remember) that Louis did fill that same stadium, but with One Direction in 2014.
Something strange to note, and that some fans decide to pretend that it’s not strange at all, was that after months of tickets being on sale, and only a few sectors were completely sold out; only three days before the show, the rest of the sectors began to sell out completely. Are you going to tell me that in five months nobody could buy, the fans were collecting money, doing raffles, and in one day magically everything was sold out?
Now let's talk about the show…
My friend @anchorandrope (who I went with) and I had the cheapest sector, one of the highest stalls in the stadium. Both we and the fans who bought that sector were prepared, not only to withstand the cold that we knew we were going to suffer, but we also looked for comfort because we had seats and we were going to be able to be calmer in comparison to the general and VIP fields.
It was two hours before the gates opened, and the stadium staff started to tell us that we were going to have to move to another sector, specifically to the field. Nobody agreed, we paid for a specific ticket and "at the last minute" they decided to change us to another sector. There were long minutes of shouting between the fans and the stadium staff, where they gave us excuses as to why they were changing us, threatened us with not letting us in if we didn't accept this change and even blamed us for following an artist who didn't fill stadiums.
The funny thing is that they couldn't agree on a good excuse. While we were told it was because of problems in the toilets, a group further away were told it was a problem with the sound. If they knew days ago that they were going to change us, couldn't they agree on their lie?
I won't make this part of the story any longer, but much of my sector ended up in the general field, a much better sector than we originally had. But what was the problem? The problem was not being in that place, because I saw him much better than if I went where I should have been. The problem was the mistreatment, the thousand excuses they gave, being uncomfortable, because many of us didn't even have clothes for that sector, or we had backpacks that were too big with too many things, and if you know what it's like to be on the field, you know that you have to go with as few objects as possible.
The problem was all the parents who accompanied their children and got the cheapest seat for a reason, and they had to endure all those hours standing when they had purchased a sector with seats. And even if there were any children, I doubt that they would have been able to see or enjoy the show. There were people with a cast on their arm or with a disability that made it necessary to have a seated area, and they didn't care.
Let's move on to talk about the fans…
The atmosphere was tense.The hours of queuing and the hours of waiting inside the stadium were tense. Louis’ fandom is not what it used to be, and many of those who attended follow some trends imposed by a few fans on Twitter, so we were surrounded. With my friend we spoke in code or omitted to name certain words, because you never know who you have next to you, and at that moment the idea wasn't to look for trouble. You didn't feel that fandom togetherness that there was, and I know about that, I've been in fandom since 2011.
For example, during the queue before going in, an alarm I have on my phone for my contraceptive pill goes off and the song is Silver Tongues. My friend and I were laughing, and I told her that the song I used to use was Kiwi. I knew that she would understand me, that she understood the reference and wouldn't say anything, after all it was a joke with no offense intended, but you never know. The fans around us looked at us as if we were crazy or missing a joke (or just pretending not to understand).
I feel that this fandom lives in a cycle where every now and then we repeat the same “trends” over and over again, but that's a topic for a separate post.
Regarding the age of fans, I don't have a problem and I don't have anything against new fans starting to listen to Louis, in fact, I strongly encourage him to continue to grow as an artist. But as a 23 year old, it was strange that every single person I talked to was under 20 years old. There were no fans my age, only a few exceptions, not even older. How can this happen? Where are all those fans who grew up with his music? Where are all those fans who were still his fans in 2022?
It wasn't just the tension between fans that was a factor in saying it was a strange show. There were no signs, no flags, as you could see at the 2022 show. Only the brave had been an iconic song at the last show, with its fan project of the LGBT+ flag created by lights in each sector. But this year, I could swear I could count on my fingers the flags I saw. I even read fans on Twitter saying that there was no point in bringing them to shows anymore, as if it was a temporary trend, or something from the Walls era.
When the show started, you could tell it wasn't the feel of a Louis’ show, there was something weird going on. The fans were silent, not singing along to the songs, including Walls. They were just recording. I understand if you don't know a cover from another artist, because I admit, I didn't sing both covers, but songs from his first album… How could you not know them? I could swear I could hear myself singing them and Louis.
The other sectors were silent as well, and those with seats were completely immobile.
In 2022, Copy Of A Copy Of A Copy was one of the songs where the fans sang the loudest, now none of them knew it, as if Louis was singing new songs. I know there are fans who didn't live through the One Direction era, or even despise everything related to it (another topic for another post), but how can they not sing songs like Night Changes or Where Do Broken Hearts Go? Again, in 2022 these covers would have been screamed until fans’ voices were gone.
You couldn't see the dedication or fanaticism for Louis. I could easily believe they just grabbed people passing by the door and let them in. I wouldn't even find it crazy if they had done it either.
In the two years that have passed between shows, it’s disappointing and sad to see this change. And if it wasn't for the fact that I was accompanied, I don't think I would have had a good time in all those long hours of waiting. I would understand if it was the other way around, and this was Louis' first show, and he didn't have the years of career that he has, and the recognition that he has.
Since Saturday, I've had a bad taste in my tongue because of everything that happened at the show. And I'm not the only one who can say these things. I know there are fans who are blinded by their fanaticism and will say that everything was perfect, or will argue that Louis could have sold out (because it happened to me), but it's a matter of taking a moment, thinking and being realistic.
It doesn't make me a bad fan to say his fandom is being horrible lately, it doesn't make me a bad fan to say he wasn't going to sell out. And let's stop blaming each other for this situation and start looking at who are the real culprits in all this?
There is a lot more to tell, but the post would become too long. If anyone wants me to tell more, they can send me an ask and I’ll be happy to continue to explain this.
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A Dichotomy of Thought || 1
You move next door to a disabled veteran and his troubled partner.
Warnings and details: disabled!Johnny; established Ghoap future Ghoap/reader; domestic abuse (not Ghoap); heavy themes of suicide, violence, abuse, poor coping mechanisms, prescription drugs. I’m not sure if I have anything here, let me know if anyone is interested in this series.
#
A helicopter goes down in the mountains of Kazakhstan and it takes a piece of Soap with it. They never recovered the arm—nor the three service members who lost more than their arms in the crash. The thought is one that Johnny’s mind cycles back to often, in moments of quiet or while he lies awake at night feeling tremors in an arm that’s no longer attached. Suddenly he’ll wonder: what are those bones up to, buried in snow and ice so deep the sun will never touch them again? Do they miss me?
Fuck, he misses them.
#
After the accident, the world is very black and white. Mostly it’s black. Blackness at the edge of his vision threatens to creep in when he stands too long, when he stands on his own, when he turns his head too fast. Anytime his blood pressure rises over that Goldilocks number of 120/80, it threatens to drop him faster than Simon used to during their first weeks of training together in the 141.
The doctors say that he’s a miracle. The traumatic brain injury had his brain swelling and pushing at the confines of his skull like water freezing in a bottle. Give him a little longer in the cold and maybe his cap would blow off. Except it hadn’t; he was still dealing with swelling all over: in his thalamus, his hypothalamus, in his cerebrum, all the words he’d never bothered to learn in school and couldn’t fucking remember now no matter how hard he tries. He gets the point. Simon does too. Johnny should be dead.
Instead he just wishes he were.
Even now, when he can remember his name and Simon’s and even (more often than not) the name of the waitress who serves them chicken and waffles at the local diner every Saturday, there are still more bad days than good. Still more darkness than light. Still more nights waking up to the sound of helicopter blades slowing, the relentless hum becoming a deafening chop chop chop like the thrum of his heartbeat. There’s that moment of weightlessness when the helo goes down and he has yet to go with it that makes him wake in a cold sweat, nauseous and looking for something to be sick in.
Through it all, Simon is there. Simon is the light. He’d laugh if he heard Johnny say that—though a laugh is probably too generous. Simon doesn’t laugh much these days. Not when he spends three fourths of his time taking care of Johnny and the other fourth thinking about how better to take care of Johnny. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny would have done himself in by now. There’s a thousand ways to do it; plenty of arms and munitions in the apartment they share together. Or there are the pain pills, if he wanted it to look like an accident. A few too many of those and he could crawl right through that darkness in his vision and find out what’s on the other side. As soon as the thought crosses his mind (and it crosses his mind more often than that fucking chicken crosses the road), the guilt comes, like anyone and everyone can read it on his mind: his mama rest her soul, Simon, Jesus on the cross. After all of the work that has gone into him, into saving his broken body and mind, into rehabilitating him, how can he even think of throwing in the towel?
Turns out it’s pretty fucking easy to think about it.
As a matter of fact, he’s thinking about it the first time he meets you, when you nearly do the job for him.
It’s spring, cool, and he’s working up a goddamn sweat anyway. Simon stands in the alleyway, smoking and pretending not to watch as Johnny hobbles up and down the length of the parking lot with his forearm crutch. His armpit throbs. His knee throbs. His head throbs as he continues along, beating out a strange little rhythm on the concrete—thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. He says all the curse words he knows and dreams up a few new ones too. It’s supposed to be getting easier, but Simon just pushes him harder to make up for the ground he covers. That’s one of the shitty parts about loving an ex-military man; he never goes easy on you.
Johnny’s thinking about the tub upstairs, just big enough for him if he curls in on himself. Sometimes a hot bath helps the knots in his muscles, but sometimes when Simon leaves the room to get a washcloth Johnny will slip beneath the surface of the water and see how long he can hold his—
Then you come out of absolutely nowhere in your shitty little four-door and nearly hit him. As a matter of fact, you do hit his crutch, sending it sprawling out of his hand and sending him clattering to the ground on his bad side. For a moment, he thinks: this is it. This is how I die. Not in a helicopter in Kazahkstan but here, now, today, and he can’t tell if it’s relief in his belly or regret. Then your tires squeal like pigs on the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air, and he is face to face with you and your horror, close enough that the air from your hasty turn brushes along his body and sends his heart pounding.
“What the steaming bloody fucking Jesus do you think you’re doing?” he finds himself shouting, pain lancing all along his side from his fake knee to the stump of his arm. Simon is there all at once, cigarette abandoned to smolder to ash in the alleyway, putting his hands under Johnny’s armpits and lifting him like a child even when he yelps in pain like a kicked dog. Johnny leans against him heavily. The edges of his vision are turning black. He bangs his fist against the hood of your car. “Did Jesus send ye? Did He tell ye to finish the fucking job and do me in? ‘That’s the cunt right there, beam him with your car’? Did he tell you that?”
You reluctantly get out of the car, not even wearing a goddamn seatbelt. The car’s soft, insistent alarm begins to remind you with unending politeness that the door is open and your seatbelt is off while you stand there, pallid, eyes huge and watering in the face of Johnny’s shouts.
He sees then that one of your eyes is swollen almost completely shut, blood turning the white sclera pink like the fine mist of blood over the snow when they finally pulled Johnny free from the helicopter. No wonder you didn’t see him coming, with a single functioning eye. He’s opened his mouth to tell you so (and to tell you a dozen other fucking things) when he nearly swoons, the rug of the world being tugged under his feet by the hand of God.
Simon slips a firmer arm around Johnny’s waist.
A man gets out of the passenger side. He begins to berate you for not paying attention, for nearly killing Johnny. Johnny agrees, but is annoyed all the same. He’s the one who almost died; leave the shouting to him.
“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, tears dripping near-constant from your eyes. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Let me get your—”
“Done enough, haven’t you?” Simon asks cooly. It sends you reeling back into the car where you sit with both hands over your mouth, chest hitching with your panicked sobs.
“Hey, is he, like, okay?” your partner asks.
“Fuck off,” Simon says, deftly ushering Johnny over one shoulder and holding the crutch in the other. He carries them back to the elevators without breaking a sweat, and Johnny cries on his shoulder from the pain of it, the sheer embarrassment of it the whole way home. The day before Kazahkstan he couldn’t have been able to tell you the last time he cried; now he cries every fucking day from one reason or another.
“I’m fine,” Johnny says when they make it back to the apartment and Simon eases him down into a chair. They arrange his knee in the one position that has it throbbing less, but then Johnny bats Simon’s hands away. “Go. I’m fine. I don’t need you hoverin’ over me.”
“Alright.”
“Fuck off with yer alright.”
Simon doesn’t say anything. Johnny hears his footsteps leading toward the bedroom they share—hardly a bedroom, how long has it been since they slept there together peacefully? Since they fucked? Johnny can tell you how long it’s been. Since before things went black and white. The footsteps stop then.
“You stepped in front of her, Johnny,” Simon says, his voice low but not quiet enough to count as a whisper. “I watched you do it. Don’t think you’re so fucking slick.”
He shuts the bedroom door behind him.
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There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 20]
🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar
🧟♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation
📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite the tensions between them. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.
Chapter 20 - Goodbye California, hello Oregon. Scar and Grian keep heading north, gearing up for winter, finding a nice place to stay the night, and continuing to struggle on where they stand and what they mean to one another.
📝 Words: 10,142
🔗 Link: Read Chapter 20 on AO3
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“Cub used to— god, he’d hate it. Every time we saw a nice sunset, or some satellite passing, or a shooting star, I’d say ‘I wish Grian was here to see this.’” Scar shakes his head, crouching down with the box of winter gear as he starts to sort through it, pairing off the gloves to see what suits them best. “He’d always tell me to give it a rest. He’d say, ‘Grian can look outside and see his own sunset.’ I thought it was kinda sweet at the time, like he was showing me how close we still were. Under the same sky, y’know?” He scoffs absently as he slips his hands into a pair of fingerless gloves, curling his palm into a fist before seeking out its mate. “Now I get he just wanted me to talk about literally anything else.”
Grian stands in silence, unable to articulate a response. The tenderness of Scar’s confession sits uneven within him, mixing with the deep shame at the implication that Quackity wasn’t the first to point out to Scar that he deserved better in a partner.
“I wish I’d gotten to know Cub better,” he settles on at last, the words quiet, not nearly what Scar deserves to hear right now. “I think I missed out.”
“You did,” Scar says, agreeing so easily that it feels rehearsed, finding the pair to his glove and putting it on his other hand. “He was one of a kind.”
“I enjoyed the few times we hung out together…” Grian offers, feeling suddenly meek.
“Cub did too,” Scar hums, focused and entirely unaffected by the conversation. It makes Grian wonder how long he’s sat with these feelings so that he can speak without any anger or resentment. “And so did Pearl—though she always got the impression you felt uncomfortable around her.”
Grian shakes his head. “It wasn’t discomfort so much as… jealousy, maybe,” he admits, quiet. “She was weird and chaotic in the same ways you were, and sometimes it seemed like you two had this whole world of in-jokes I’d never be part of. I guess… I felt it was impossible to compete with.”
“There was nothing to compete with, Grian,” Scar insists, looking up for the first time, his eyes sharp and focused. “You were the one I was dating. Not Pearl. Not Cub.”
“Yeah,” Grian sighs, “I see that now.”
—
Friday time, TAMN time! We're on the penultimate chapter of this arc! These two :') will they ever learn...
You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below!
You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)
#new banner too! welcome to the family baby pizza vespa scooter#trafficshipping#scarian#life series fanfic#zombie au#TAMN#TAMN fic
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Points at you. 10 and/or 11 for starstruck?
Two starstruck asks,,,,,,joy of joys,,
Part of an ask game linked here.
#10. What's an au you have for them?
Since them meeting at all is technically an AU i have 3 different ways that they do meet up. There's the one where Juniper ends up with the agency/adjacent to and ends up working with Reggie (have written a fic with this). The next one is Juniper surviving but basically going stealth and living as normal of a life as he can and ending up meeting Reggie through chance (most recent fic I've written). And then there's my personal favourite where Reginald "You're lucky my tracking skills are still up to snuff" Crane keeping himself busy after Phoenix was MIA and finding Juniper still alive (fic I want to write but haven't started mainly because it may end up multi chapter).
In terms of more AU canon bending taking them and putting them in a completely unrelated situation...I have a guilty pleasure Warrior Cats AU for IEYTD in general. Both JJ and Reggie have perfect warrior cats suffixes in their names already (Juniper and Crane) so they're called Junipersong (charcoal bengal) and Craneflight (tabby Norwegian forest cat). It's very silly but the amount of scenes I have in my mind for it...good lord...
#11. How was their first kiss like?
Augh my friend Imp wrote an absolutely excellent fic about it (tragically in the realm of unfinished Google docs) and I'm shaking their hand about it so hard. Basically Juniper kissing Reggie but he like wasn't ready/fully expecting it and Juniper absolutely panicking because he thinks he's misread every interaction between them both since they got closer. The second one is much sweeter though,,
#realised i phrased all the fics ive written like those ghosts that haunted scrooge#ah yes the fic of starstuck past#the fic of starstruck present and the fic of starstruck yet to come. it's so dumb#and uhh for the warrior cats thing um. of course they aren't purebreds minus Juniper who used to be a kittypet (housecat) but -#- it was moreso for easy description#reggie is fluffy but he's not quite maine coonf fluffy...norwegan forest cat was a nice middle ground...still gets big guy points too#also um side note roxanix in that au um. they adopted a kit as a stand in for robutler in that au......#also solaris is a VERY grumpy warrior turned medicine cat annnnd thats about all I have fully hashed out in my mind for it so far#im so torn abt also having triple threat.....extra large polycule where phoenix is just intimidated by the others prism is dating lmao#ANYWAYS ENOUGH ABOUT THE WARRIOR CATS AU#can you tell I have a special interest in cats/warrior cats. oh how I miss drawing cats. but I must learn people. for the brainworms...ouuu#i don't have much else to say on that second question other than....AUUUUUUGH they're so. there's so much pent up stuff.#like for JJ it's the first time he's let himself actually love another man the way he wants to while for Reggie it's a lot of -#- realising JJ is trying to be a better person while still ackowleging the fact that he did bad??? basically second chance yada yada#man. i love these two#ik im a broken ass reccord but I've never proactively posted abt them outside the last couple months and it's been so theraputic#ty for the ask it was fun :3c#ieytd#starstruck#junicrane#ask game#not tagging them specifically I don't wanna clog up tags too much#god WHY do i have such an issue eith that. mental issue. anyways
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i know I should focus on writing and not poke hornets nests but. though saionji haters of the “i dont care about him & dont wanna hear about him” variety are completely valid . If you for real think saionji is a villain the way akio is a villain. you completely missed the point of the show
#and i dont even mean that theyre the same but akio is much worse#i mean that we are literally shown - textually - that saionji is a steadfast; loyal; honorable boy whothinks he is upholding a strict but#fair moral system and genuinely means well#but he like everyone else (male and female) is groomed into the fucked up partiarchal worldview of possession and control that says that#people like him (men; ‘princes’) are responsible for protecting others at the cost of their own well-being AND the well-being of those they#are ‘protecting’#and we literally see everyone at some point or other fall into this slippery slope at akios behest INCLUDING utena both in tje first arc#when she thinks she can’save’ anthy just by telling her what to do and later when she slaps wakaba (the SAME gesture as saionji to anthy in#ep 1) after being manipulated by touga#in fact saionji being the boogeyman in the first arc and bein shown being abusive in such a self evident and ‘uncomplicated’ way at the ver#y beginning. is the POINT. bc from then on the manipulation abuse etc gets more subtle complex layered and complicated by many different#interpersonal rships at the same time.#but saionji is also literally again TEXTUALLY shown in the final arc#to paradoxically be a better person than touga who seems the least bad of the 2 and goes around calling himself a feminist#bc when saionji sees the truth of what akio is and what the duels and prince/princess roles do to people he immediately is disgusted and#wants nothing to do with it and cannot even STAND the sight of akio. whereas touga sees it just as clearly and has for a much longer time#but he still will not separate himself from akio because he wants the power he thinks he can gain regardless of the consequences and hurt#to himself yes. but also to others; anthy utena nanami AND saionji.#and this isnt even to say that ohh the real bad guy is touga actually hate touga instead. tougas situation is also complext#none of the kids are bad people (though some are better people than others i.e. utena and wakaba)#they are all victims of a system in which they are being groomed and manipulated to play roles that disregard their humanity and cause them#to be in pain and to put other people in pain#and lastly you can say ‘well but saionji was still an asshole he slapped anthy while she was in a sort-of gf role to him that’s literally#abuse.’ and YES. he was and it is.#however rgu isn’t about finding The Bad People who do The Bad Things its about showing how these toxic systems perpetrate themselves to the#misery of EVERYONE involved.#and that happens because people buy into it from a VERY young age. but that doesnt mean they cant learn better.#the only truly bad guy in rgu is akio and that isn’t because hes an exception to the ‘everyone is a complex morally grey human and people#cause hurt to each other without setting out to do so’ but because he’s NOT a normal human being he is basically a thought experiment.#of what would happen if someone LOST the ability to change and question themselves and learn better. or you could say. to revolutioniz
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add this to the list of things that annoy me about Lana*
#queen in space#*i guess it's more how bioware *utilizes* lana than the character herself?#there are some things about her that annoy me#(not enough to outright dislike/hate her like liara and some others#just enough to stick her in the ambivalent camp with koth ''valkorion fanboy'' vortena)#but that they use her as the easy way out of ''why can't i X?'' or ''why would i do Y?'' situations with a handwavy ''lana said so''#like this is a good example#a perfect example really#rather than have lana turn away a (back-up) sis contact who's on slightly less shaky standing than theron#(who LEFT the sis during your carbonite nap)#which feels like an ooc move for your canonically pragmatic advisor#lean into the fact jonas mentions being on denon while the trooper's running sor#we know things got REAL messy there during arcann's reign#use that (i have plans for the conjunction of those two facts in a longfic :3)#he got tied up there in some sense#OR he was on a deep cover op since he clearly still feels the sis is where he can do the most good#given he stayed throug hall of saresh's fuckery#(and not wanting to lose his job puts limits on how much he#helps with tracking down the deadeyes on jorgan's questline so there's precedent for him putting high priority on his job)#idk i just think there are many better explanations for jonas not joining than ''lana wouldn't let him get in touch with you''??????#and there's other spots where they use lana as the handwave ''bc i said so'' character bc they wanna streamline the story#i understand wanting to streamline the story there's way too many variables to let us do *everything*#(I say as someone who desperately wished elara mentioned aleksei in that bonus 1-on-1 the trooper gets with her#TELL ME HOW YOUR BROTHER IS DOING)#but they put like 85=90% of the explanation for why/how they do that on lana#and just hope she's enough a loyal badass people don't question it#she basically has plot armor at this point since they put in the option to let theron die in nc :|#she's drifting dangerously close to ''bioware assigned bestie'' territory#and it has me very 'eh' about a character i would normally like a lot more#(i do wanna be clear about that.
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winnie & bagel
#corned beef#winston billions#philosophizing on my wynnstannery ''billions' accidental autistic character'' metanalysis style like#classic prank that there's a perspective that [autistic people = people both involuntarily and voluntarily worse than us(tm)] and yet then:#there is me an autistic person getting to lift these weights & hone the ability to look at this & how to use language around it#from those earliest origins of ''is tayston allowed'' to ''is saying winston is Autistic allowed''....call it quantentative#and the fact that from season four up to this very moment even the distribution of billions canon has in itself done an unimpeachible job#at enhancing the Literary Themes concurrent in my life. studio laughter & standing ovation#anyways it also meant realizing a whole like Genre / Movement in the oeuvre of my funny little drawings of a funny little guy for kicks#such that expands that oeuvre to better reconcile / resolve with my metaquantanalysis#and it's like going [making oil paintings of interior domestic scenes] mode lol. hell yeah#that is: the genre of ''a winston portrait that doesn't have; need; or ask for the implicit context that Anyone Else Cares or May Care''#making it: ordinary and self-contained. not even ''by himself & having a particularly good or bad time.'' just an ordinary time.#tasks & situations that need not transcend anything at all. like yes having a bagel is a delight & a gift but it's in an Ordinary context#still here. scratch an itch. keep cat from knocking over showerside soaps. could be having an especial good time in any way but again such#that it needn't transcend or suggest it prompts any particular response from anyone else#that Self-Containment like [the void] of allistic ppl like ''the definition of ppl's autistacity: bringing it upon themself'' versus like#intergalactic multiuniverse quantum superpositions brain understanding of autistic ppl keeping to themselves#very much [we are not the same] perspectives lol. like working around to Getting the shit one was up to at like 3 or 7 or w/e yrs old#like but now i have all the language for why that's how things go for me & why it's Not [all the time / energy / language from others about#why that's wrong & worse & you bring it upon yourself etc]....like [you were nonbinary the whole time & still are but now Know Shit & can#convey &/or reject things w/nonzero / more precise language about it]....hand on shoulder nobody values you On Merit. & then you die.#wanting to draw some last night but it wasn't coming along great but it still came along Okay enough for this lol....also classic#going ''wow can't believe i might get to bear witness to them crumpling up winston & using the wall as backboard to toss him in the trash''#after ''can't believe kompenso's electrifying / can't believe we're just in time for season 4 / can't believe i was here til june'' etc#can't believe winston might get an arc / can't believe winston didn't get an arc but still got an abusive relationship / can't believe#being a funny little peripheral guy is better for Character b/c of what the writing doesn't inflict & the space that frees up....#anyways a true reconciliting revelation for my Quantent like oh This is the context that's not like swimming upstream#b/c it's also the context that [winston doesn't have to Merit(tm) being recognized as a person / would it be ''good'' if he seemingly did]#like the distilledly good timeline is one where nobody cares and he still gets to have a bagel and wear headphones.
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Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi
Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.
Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.
The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):
The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.
In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)
Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.
I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.
The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.
The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)
Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.
Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.
To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.
#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#laios touden#shuro#toshiro nakamoto#the winged lion#autistic#autism#clay writes#i GUESS#this was so spur of the moment. im so busy right now i dont have time to be analysing laios touden#i wuont angry autistic rep..
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It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?
He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.
“No.”
“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”
“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”
This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”
“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”
Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”
“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.
It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”
Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”
Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.
“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”
He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.
“Quit that.”
“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”
“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”
“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”
“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”
“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”
“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”
“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”
Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”
Price simply watches him.
“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”
It's another long moment before Price speaks.
“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”
“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”
Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.
“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”
As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”
He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader imagines#simon ghost riley x reader imagine#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader imagines#simon riley x reader imagine#simon riley imagines#simon riley imagine#simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x reader imagines#ghost x reader imagine#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#cod#cod imagines#cod imagine#captain price#price#john soap mactavish#soap#john mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#kyle garrick
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The villains are utterly confused.
They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.
The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.
But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:
The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.
SCENE 1
Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.
Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..
Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?
Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*
Red Hood:
Two-Face:
Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?
Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!
Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?
Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?
Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?
Two-Face:
Goon 1: I mean.. yeah
Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!
Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??
Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.
Red Hood:
Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones
Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-
SCENE 2
Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!
Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!
Nightwing: .. robin?
Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?
Nightwing:
Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after
Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.
Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.
Nightwing:
Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)
#batman#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#batfam#bruce wayne#damian wayne#headcanons#dr freeze#robin!dick grayson#robin!dick#robin!jason todd#robin!jason#joker#batbrothers#batfam headcanons#two face#Harvey sent
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Cuddles
Alastor x Reader (QP)
You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.
But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.
After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.
Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.
But that wasn't an option.
Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.
"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."
Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.
"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."
A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.
Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.
"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."
Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.
"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."
You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.
Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."
Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.
Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.
"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."
It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.
Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.
You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin alastor#cuddles#reluctant cuddles#fluff#rhys-writes#alastor x reader queerplatonic
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First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore
The things you do to make your girlfriend.
“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”
You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.
Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.
It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.
Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?
Hah.
Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.
Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.
She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?
You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.
But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.
There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.
The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.
Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.
Was there something on your face???
“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”
She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.
It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.
Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.
A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.
Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.
So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.
You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”
There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.
Oh no.
You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 
You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?
This was just how it was.
Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.
Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.
“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”
Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.
“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”
A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.
“Sure. He’s all yours.”
But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”
“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??
“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”
“….yes…”
His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”
So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.
“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.
You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.
A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?
You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.
Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”
“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.
“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”
You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.
“(Name), what’s your safe word?”
You blinked, “what’s that?”
There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.
“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”
“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”
“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”
“Oh… would green be for keep going?”
Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”
You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?
“Starting now.”
You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.
Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.
Smack!
Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…
He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”
Oh right. Counting…
“O..One.”
It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.
Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.
“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.
“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.
Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”
“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!
Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”
“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”
“But—”
“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”
It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.
“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.
Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.
You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.
It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.
“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.
This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.
His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??
“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”
Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.
He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.
“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.”
“What?”
“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.
Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.
The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.
You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.
No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.
That was a first.
You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.
He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”
“Y..Yeah..”
“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.
First and only? What?!
“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.
“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.
Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”
“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.
If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…
Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.
You wanted it so bad.
You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”
“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.
His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.
“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.
You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”
“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”
“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”
Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.
Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.
“(Name)…”
You let out a strangled hum.
“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”
Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.
@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi
#bottom male reader#x male reader#uke male reader#sub male reader#male reader#mlm ns/fw#smut drabble#mlm nsft#x male smut#male bottom reader
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