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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 10 months

Text

Behold, a bracket!

Text form below the cut because trying to copy all the 256 into the alt text sounded.... horrifying. Warning for 128 matchups, seriously, this list is long, and so I've avoided adding the artists until the polls.

a note: the pinned post has started misbehaving, so only open polls will be directly linked. closed polls instead have the results page linked in the set header, all the polls are linked from there

Set 1

The Lament for Icarus (Miao He) vs The Lament for Icarus (Herbert Draper)

The angel came to me in a fever hallucination, perched upon my bed as I returned from the bathroom. vs Sweet Brown Snail

Figures vs A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrery

Happy Shoppers vs Hubble Deep Field

Lovers Painting vs Bath Curtain

Dr. Helen Taussig vs Une Martyre

Orangoutang étranglant un sauvage de Bornéo (Orangutan strangling a Borneo savage) vs Can’t Help Myself

Rape vs Technicolor Hiroshima

Set 2

A Walk at Dusk vs Based on “Autoportrait with the Model” by Maria-Rayevska Ivanova

Diary Page vs Les Jours Gigantesques (The Titanic Days)

Dead of Night vs You Won't

Christina's World vs Bobby

Untitled (I’m Turning Into A Specter Before Your Very Eyes And I’m Going To Haunt You) vs Two Sisters (On the Terrace)

Sharecropper vs Lustmord

The Parca and the Angel of Death vs Untitled (Zdzisław Beksiński)

Stress vs The Fallen Angel

Set 3

Device to Root Out Evil vs Travelling Light

Diana vs Fifty Days at Iliam: The Fire that Consumes All before It

The Plains, from Memory vs Exotic Bodies

Doubting Thomas vs Self-Portrait in the Bathroom Mirror

Empty Nest vs Somebody Fell From Aloft

Anguish vs If I Died

Cat in Obsolete Bath vs You're Not Boring Anymore

Salvator Mundi (Savior of the World) vs Untitled (billboard of an empty unmade bed)

Set 4

There Will Be No Miracles Here vs Symphony of the Sixth Blast Furnace

Fox Hunt vs Tarpaulin

Khajuraho Group of Monuments vs Ranakpur Jain Temple

ปราสาทสัจธรรม (The Sanctuary of Truth) vs Grande Panorama de Lisboa

Heroic Head of Pierre de Wissant, One of the Burghers of Calais vs The Weather

The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit vs If this is art

Statue of Vincent and Theo van Gogh vs Jeanne d’Arc écoutant les voix (Joan of Arc listening to the Voices)

Fountain vs Judith Slaying Holofernes

Set 5

Cueva de las Manos (Cave of Hands) vs Cave of El Castillo

Chauvet Cave Bear vs Uffington White Horse

Laocoön and His Sons vs Winged Victory of Samothrace

Crouching Aphrodite vs Statue of Taweret

Guardian Figure vs Kūya-Shonin (Saint Kuya)

Ancient Greek doll vs Arena #7 (Bears)

Enbu (炎舞) (Dancing in the Flames) vs Yearning Shadows

Belfast to Byzantium vs Freedom

Set 6

The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayan vs Portraits

The Blood Mirror vs Nighthawks

Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate vs "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)

Lady Agnew of Lochnaw vs Forgotten Dreams

Saint Bride vs Pixeles (a group of 9 works)

War Pieta vs The Sunset

The Handmaidens of Sivawara Preparing the Sacred Bull at Tanjore for a Festival vs Ajax and Cassandra

Nāve (Death) vs Abstraction

Set 7

Yes vs Meeting on the Turret Stair

Hacked to Death II vs Stańczyk

Closeness Lines Over Time vs Voice of Fire

The Maple Trees at Mama, the Tekona Shrine and Tsugihashi Bridge vs Portrait of Sir Thomas More

Survival Series: In a Dream You Saw a Way vs Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre

Death blowing bubbles vs The Kitchen Table Series

Painting 1946 vs In the Grip of Winter

Untitled (Black and Gray) vs NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt

Set 8

Blue Plate Special vs Red Cedar

Palace of Fine Arts vs Mosque–Cathedral of Córdoba

Le Château des Pyrénées (The Castle of the Pyrenees) vs Susanna and the Elders, Restored - X-Ray

Moby Dick vs Viva la Vida, Watermelons

Venus Envy Chapter One (Of the First Holy Communion Moments Before the End) vs how to look at art

St. Sebastian vs Untitled #12

Carroña vs The invincible one

Untitled (Two Dogs) vs The Dog

SECOND HALF

Set 9

David (Donatello) vs David (Michelangelo)

The Other Side vs The Temptation of St. Jerome

Seated Woman with Bent Knees vs Starry Night

Headdress - Shadae vs Untitled for the Image Flow's Queer Conscience exhibit

Woman with Dead Child (Frau mit totem Kind) vs Les Amants (The Lovers)

Siroče na majčinom grobu (Orphan on Mother's Grave) vs You Make My World a Better Place to Find

Fighting Against SARS Memorial Architectural Scene (弘揚抗疫精神建築景觀) vs Fallingwater

Resting vs The Hull

Set 10

Olive Trees vs Worship

Glow vs Wheatfield with Crows

Study after Velázquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X vs Untitled (He Plays Very Badly)

D.I.Y. by John Wiswell vs The Tragedy

Judith and the Head of Holofernes vs Beethovenfries (Beethoven Frieze)

The Memory of Me (How Could I Forget) vs oh god i had a really big epiphany about love and personhood but i’m too drunk for words

I am happy because everyone loves me vs 瀕危形態 (Endangered Forms)

Three Scaffolders vs Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan

Set 11

San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk vs Water-Lilies, Reflection of a Weeping Willow

The Grief of the Pasha vs Monolith in Vigeland Sculpture Park

Passion vs Space Diner

Hamlet and Ophelia vs Two Earthlings

Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth vs Seer Bonnets

Photograph from "SNAP OSAKA" Collection vs Clytemnestra after the Murder

“Untitled” (Perfect Lovers) vs The Lovers (TIE)

Kedai Ubat Jenun vs Orange Store Front

Set 12

The Apotheosis of War vs Portrait of the Dancer Aleksandr Sakharov

Julie Manet vs Mouth

The Icebergs vs Kaleidoscope Cats III

Maman vs Caza Nocturna (Night Hunt)

The Book of Kells Folio 188r: Luke carpet page vs Ardagh Chalice

Yusuf and Zulaikha vs Dome of the Rock mosaics

Rowan Leaves and Hole vs Untitled (prisonhannibal)

Le Désespéré (The Desperate Man) vs The Dedication

Set 13

Deimos vs Dog and Bridge

The Mocking of Christ vs Prudence

The Broken Column vs Siberian Ice Maiden shoulder tattoo

Transi de René de Chalon (Cadaver Tomb of René of Chalon) vs Head of Christ

The Day vs Spirit of Haida Gwaii

Eleanor Boathouse at Park 571 vs Jatiya Sangsad Bhaban জাতীয় সংসদ ভবন (National Parliament House)

Juventud de Baco (Bacchus Youth) vs Barges on the Seine

Oath of the Horattii closeup vs Visit hos Excentrisk Dam (Visit to an eccentric lady)

Set 14

Christ Crucified (With Donor) vs St. Francis

Thunder Raining Poison vs Piazza d'Italia

The Grove vs Among the Waves

Pintura Mural de Alarcón vs Sagrada Família stained-glass windows

Noonday Heat vs La Dame à la licorne (The Lady and The Unicorn)

Matroser i Gröna Lund (Sailors in Gröna Lund) vs Gielda Plakatu

Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks vs The Garden of Earthly Delights

Kuoleman puutarha (The Garden of Death) vs Haavoittunut enkeli (The Wounded Angel)

Set 15

i've wasted a lifetime pretending to be me vs da oracle

minus #37 vs Panel from Fun Home

Excerpt from illustrated edition of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner vs La Mort de Marat (The Death of Marat)

The Veil vs Düsseldorf 4 (Museum Kunst Palast)

Capriccio vs Zodiac calendar for La Plume

The official imperial portrait of empress dowager Cixi vs José y Maria

Blooming Lilacs vs Lágrimas De Sangre (Tears of Blood)

An Interlude vs Boy Staring at an Apparition

Set 16

Mermer Waiskeder: Stories of the Moving Tide vs The Gran Hotel Ciudad de México Art Nouveau interior

Unfinished Painting vs To Arms!

Memorial to a Marriage vs The Island

Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn vs A Few Small Nips

Saturn Devouring His Son vs Guernica

Fairy Princesses vs Lamentation over the Dead Christ

Mummy with An Inserted Panel Portrait of a Youth vs Little Girl Looking Downstairs at Christmas Party

Agnus vs The Cup Of His Murders Is Flowing Over And In His Coat Shall Be Many Curses

#art that fucks you up tournament #announcement #links are in the read more!

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cherrynwinesk · 10 months

Note

my first request is me not being an anon 🤭 anyway i saw ur quackity post about treating his s/o like a princess and i was like “AAWWWW QUE LINDOOOO” SO maybe u can do some headcanons of that? or lo que tu quieras 🤷‍♀️

(also i love the fact u do spanish and english content 🫶🏻 spanish is my first language so seeing content in my mother tongue is very warming 🫶🏻)

🍒: Mucha graciaaaaas!!! Creeme que yo también buscaba contenido en español y es súper limitado, y dije "no me voy a quedar esperando a que alguien más lo haga y voy hacerlo yo". Te lo voy a poner en ambos idiomas porque Quackity internacional. Gracias por tu apoyo, espero que mi blog sea un lugar seguro<333

Princess Treat Headcanon's ~ Quackity

Story g: Sfw / Soft

Language: English / Español

⚠️: None/Ninguno

CC's: Quackity, ElQuackity (bc both languages lol)

Reader g: Female / Femenino

📝: All the content is fictitious and an attempt is made to adapt the PUBLIC personality of the cc's, that is, the personality that is shown in front of cameras, I do not know the true personality and any resemblance to reality is mere coincidence.

🍒: Hello, writing requests are always open, if you want something in particular, ask without fear. I clarify that English is not my main language, I apologize for any error and accept corrections to improve the quality of the content

Master List

»Español;

•Tiene su grado de caballerosidad siempre independientemente de quién sea la otra mujer, amigas, hermana, mamá, alguna familiar tuya

•Mientras te pretende, él siempre va a ser caballeroso

•Siendo novios esa caballerosidad es exclusiva, este trato no lo va a tener nadie más que tu

•Comenzando por lo básico, él siempre abrirá la puerta para ti, restaurante, casa o cualquier lugar. Quackity siempre abrirá la puerta para que tú puedas pasar primero sin tener que hacer el esfuerzo de empujar la puerta por tu propia cuenta

•Quackity también abre la puerta de su carro para ti, pero en este caso, una vez abierta la puerta él extiende su mano para que puedas tomarla y apoyarte en él para salir del asiento del copiloto

•Él nunca, nunca, va a llamarte con un insulto, ni por más pequeño que sea el insulto como "tonta" o cualquier otro

•Nunca va a faltarte el respeto haciendo comentarios sugerentes en momentos no indicados

•E incluso en momentos indicados, él siempre va hablarte o dirigirse hacia ti sin obsenidades

•Carga en su carro algunas sandalias o crocs cómodos por si en alguna cita tus zapatos empiezan a lastimar tus pies

•Quackity es un hombre proveedor

•Tus comidas siempre las paga él sin ninguna condición o esperar algo a cambio

•Siempre hay un pequeño detalle en tu cuerpo, como alguna cadena, pulcera o anillo que lo representen a él como tú novio

•Sin la necesidad de marcarte posesivamente

•"Está joya es un regalo de mi novio" y con eso él está presente en tu vida

»English;

•He always has his degree of chivalry regardless of who the other woman is, friends, sister, mother, any relative of yours.

•While you are dating, he's always going to be chivalrous.

•Being a couple that chivalry is exclusive, this deal will not have anyone else but you

•Starting with the basics, he will always open the door for you, restaurant, home or anywhere. Quackity will always open the door so you can go through first without having to push the door yourself.

•Quackity also opens his car door for you, but in this case, once the door is open he extends his hand so you can take it and lean on him to get out of the passenger seat

•He will never, never, call you an insult, no matter how small the insult is like "stupid" or any other

•He will never disrespect you by making suggestive comments at inappropriate times.

•And even at the right times, he will always talk to you or address you without obscenity

•Carry some comfortable sandals or crocs in his car in case your shoes start to hurt your feet on a date

•Quackity is a provider man

•Your meals are always paid for by him without any conditions or expecting something in return

•There is always a small detail on your body, like a chain, bracelet or ring that represents him as your boyfriend.

•Without the need to mark you possessively

•"This jewel is a gift from my boyfriend" and with that he is present in your life

#qsmp quackity #quackity #quackity fluff #quackity smp #dsmp quackity #mcytblr #mcyt #qsmp #fem reader #female #gn reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity x reader #Quackity soft #sfw blog #sfw littlespace #fluff #mcyt x y/n

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joofie404 · 1 month

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ok sorry to that one anon for making you wait so long

here it is

the fabled no angst joofie project

PROTAGONISTS!!!

this is Mano and Mona. Mano is a self proclaimed adventurer who basically just wanders about wherever she can go, looking for the next most fun thing to do. Her intelligence fluctuates between a damp sponge and 4D chess. Mona is her little sister who's quite prickly, prone to snaps and insults. She also has the ability to shapeshift (quite limited) due to eating a strange rock as a baby, which allows her to serve as not just Mano's adventuring partner, but also as her... weapon. Yeah, it's kinda weird.

now I'm sure you're thinking: "it sure would be bad if these kids had no responsible parent figure to keep them out of trouble"

you'd be right! thank goodness they have one

this is ol' Mr Doggedy. Mano and Mona wandered onto his property one day and the dad instincts kicked in

yeah he's a sweet old man and I just made him what I wished my dad was

did I mention he can lift a car

ok but every story needs a bad guy right so uhhhh

this is hexe the witch

she's evil, bisexual, and skilled in bitchcraft. she hates kids and is banned from every gay bar in a 60 mile radius. she also catfishes people with youth potions

she lives in a tower with a uh... romanticized statue of herself outside stop the highest hill in town, and she generally just fucks things up and does petty mean shit

one day she came up with the bright idea to destroy the surrounding area and everything in it to build herself a summer home so she used her magic and conjured up a giant laser ray (yes that works) and it goes off in 3 days

but yeah Mano may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but she knows when someone deserves a punch in the face so she and Mona are gonna beat the crap outta that ugly ass witch no matter what their dog dad says

there you go, angstless project

there's a bit more to it than that, but it's generally just an excuse plot so i can do some wacky worldbuilding

desert people with robots, ghosts, oddly polite zombies, goofy henchmen, bee employees, sentient ice people, a town of literal bombs and more shall follow

that's all

#joof rambles #artwork #paper art #artists on tumblr #my art #original art #original character #oc #my oc art

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imsobabygiirl · 14 days

Text

PROMT: You finally gave Wally west a chance part2/2

Part 1,

NOTES: Omg yall I've been so busy that I haven't had the time to add a part two but here it is!!!! Again please give tips and comment your opinions or what you would like to see next because its really appreciated.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: none ig but lots of flirty fluff.... and this hasn't been proof read so I'm sorry for the mistakes.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

time 7:45

third person pov

Wally spends the next hour and 45 minutes getting ready. He chooses a nice, dark green button-up shirt and a pair of black slacks. He spends a few extra minutes in the bathroom to make sure his freckles aren’t too visible. He hates how the dots make his face look, especially on such an important night for him.

He looks at himself in the mirror, frowning when he notices the freckles again. Wally lets out a small sigh before leaving the bathroom and heading to your room.

your pov

You get a cute but classy outfit that fits my body perfectly and put my shoes on. Looking in the mirror, wondering how you gave Wally a chance, but you brush it off, noticing it’s five minutes until 8.

Wally finally walks over to your bedroom door, giving it a light knock. “You ready to go?” He asks, trying to keep the happiness out of his voice. He can’t believe you’re letting him take you out on a date when he would normally have to beg and barter a hundred times just to get an answer from you.

You answer the man at the door. “Well, you're surprisingly early,” saying in a sarcastic tone. “Just let me get my bag.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Wally mutters to himself as you get your bag. He steps into the room, trying to hide his excitement. He looks you up and down, taking in the sight of you dressed up for the date. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but now that you’re going out with him, it’s all he can think about.

“You look gorgeous, by the way,” Wally says, giving you a small nudge. “As usual, though.” You do a cute little bow. “Well, thank you.” A light blush appears on his face as he holds out his hand.

“Shall we, gorgeous?” He asks, still holding back a smile. Just being near you is making him happier than he’s ever been. “Yes, let’s go.” You grab Wally’s arm and lead him out of the room. Wally tries his best not to react to you grabbing his arm and leading him out of the room. He can feel himself melting at the slight touch.

He opens the door, leading you outside. Once the door is securely closed behind you, he leads the both of you to the car.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Wally says as he gets into the driver’s seat. He looks over at you, giving you a small smile. Turning in the passenger seat, You look at Wally. ”I’m starved right now, so what’s the plan?” Wally chuckles slightly, starting the car as you turn to look at him.

“The plan,” he says, backing the car out of the driveway, “Is taking you to a nice Italian restaurant, I know. Best food in the city, and it makes the perfect first date spot.” He glances over at you as he starts driving, smiling. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”

You blush a little at the slight detail “Did you know that I love Italian food, or was that just a lucky guess?” Wally laughs, shaking his head slightly.“To be totally honest, you talking about that one Italian place near Wayne Mano “You’ll love it. Trust me.”

He glances over at you, trying to gauge your reaction. “I don’t just blindly guess, you know,” he says. “I might not be as smart as most of the League, but I’m not *that* dense.”

“Oh, trust me, Wally, you're a lot smarter than you think you are.” You take your hand and brush it through his hair. Wally turns red when you reach your hand up to run it through his hair. Nobody, except for maybe his sister, has ever done that to him before. He tries to ignore the way your touch is making his heart flutter.

“Uh, thank you,” Wally replies, keeping his eyes on the road. He feels like if he looks at you again, he’ll have to pull the car over and embarrass himself.

“It’s so cute, but you get flustered, and your whole face gets blushed, mixing with your freckles.” Wally’s attempts to ignore you go completely out the window when you mention the freckles. His hands grip the steering wheel a bit tighter when you bring them up. He knows the freckles make him look stupid; he’s seen the way other people.

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out,” Wally mumbles, feeling himself blush more. “Since we were little, you hated them, but I’ve always loved them for you.” Wally blinks at your words, looking over at you. Nobody’s ever said they liked his freckles.

“You do?” Wally asks, tilting his head slightly. There is no way you actually like the dots on his face. You hate them; he’s sure of it. You turn his head to look at me while at a red light. “I like them a lot.” Wally’s breath catches in his throat as you turn his head to look at him. He can feel himself starting to blush again when you tell him you like his freckles.

He’s quiet, thinking. Do you like his freckles? But how? They’re just a bunch of annoying dots that make him look childlike. “Why?” Wally asks, keeping his gaze on your eyes. He needs to be certain.

“Because not many people have them, and I like to believe they belong to special people.” Wally’s heart skips a beat when you call his freckles special. He’s had them for so long, and he’s never liked them. You’re the only person who’s ever said they’re special, besides his mom and sister.

He keeps his gaze locked with yours once the light turns green, pulling his lower lip into his mouth. He doesn’t know what to say in response. “Now eyes on the road, pretty boy, a girl is hungry.” Wally snaps back to reality when you mention food again, starting to drive again.

“Right, right, sorry!” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s never had someone call him ‘pretty boy’ before, either. He keeps his eyes on the road, watching the road signs he passes. The restaurant is a few minutes away, thankfully.

Time skip to the restaurant

Wally looks around at the restaurant after finding a parking spot, then turns to look at you.

“This place is really nice,” he says with a smile. He’s been here a couple of times on his own, mostly to try and clear his head after another failed attempt at asking you out. He smiles more as he unbuckles, getting out of the car. He walks around to your side, opening the door for you.

“What a gentleman you are.” You give a cute little grin and wonder why you never gave him a chance sooner. “Only for you, gorgeous,” Wally says, returning your grin as you step out of the car. Once again, he holds out his hand to you.

He’s hoping you’re having a good time so far. He knows it’s too early to ask you to be his girlfriend, but he really wishes he could. He’ll just have to keep his feelings under lock and key like he’s been doing for years now.

Feeling a little more confident, You grab Wally’s hand and lead him inside the restaurant. Wally feels his heart flip again when you grab his hand, leading him into the restaurant. He’s feeling all sorts of things right now. Happiness. Nervousness. Excitement. Happiness at the feeling of your hand in his. Nervousness about how this date will go. I'm excited to see the way you’re acting.

He glances over at you as you lead the way, noticing the way your hair seems to glow under the lights. You ask the lady in front for a table, and while waiting, you turn to look at Wally.

“All good?” Wally’s gaze snaps from your hair to your face when you turn to look at him, almost getting lost inside your eyes.

“All good,” he says with a smile, nodding slightly. In reality, his mind is racing. If he gets too lost in his thoughts, he’ll end up saying something stupid before he’s supposed to. He keeps his focus on you instead, taking in the sight of you.

Walking towards the table, Wally pulls the chair out for me, and we sit down. He holds back a smile as he pushes your chair in for you, sitting down in his own seat. “So,” he says after a moment, shifting his position to try and hide his discomfort in the chairs. They’re so small, it feels like they’re squeezing his broad shoulders.

“What are you thinking about getting?” He picks up his menu, trying to hide the way he’s uncomfortable in the chair from you.

Sensing the awkwardness, So you speak up. I’m kind of feeling in the mood for creamy pasta, but what about you? Wally laughs, shaking his head. He can never hide anything from you. You always know exactly what he’s thinking; sometimes it’s like you can read his mind.

“I’m probably going to get the same thing. Pasta sounds so good right now,” he says, his mind starting to drift back to you. He forces himself to focus back on the menu, looking through the options.

Let’s order then! *Thinking in your head, if you did anything wrong* Wally nods in agreement with your words, looking back up from the menu. He looks over you again, then notices the way you seem to be overthinking something.

“Hey,” he says, reaching his hand over to set it on yours, “are you alright? You seem lost in your head.” “Huh, what? Um, yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking that’s all.”

fast forward to the date almost coming to an end

The rest of the night goes by without any problems, and soon you’re both finishing up your food.

After a long silence, Wally speaks up. “So, was this date at all enjoyable for you? Or are you just waiting to tell me you hated it?” he asks half-jokingly, trying to hide the slight uneasiness from his voice. He really hopes you enjoyed the date so far.

“It actually passed my standards, and I was kind of wondering why I hadn’t said yes sooner. You look down at your hands, playing with them. Wally’s expression lights up at your words. You liked the date, and you’re saying you wish you’d said yes sooner? He didn’t think he’d hear that coming from you.

“Really?” He asks, feeling a bit breathless. He can’t believe you’re saying all this, not after how many times you've turned him down in the past. Wally’s expression lights up at your words. You liked the date, and you’re saying you wish you’d said yes sooner? He didn’t think he’d hear that coming from you.

“Really?” He asks, feeling a bit breathless. He can’t believe you’re saying all this, not after how many times you've turned him down in the past. You nod as a way of saying yes.

Wally reaches his hand over and takes hold of yours. It’s so nice to feel some kind of physical touch from you that isn’t rejection. “I’m glad I finally got you to say yes,” he says with a grin, starting to rub his thumb on the back of your hand.

“I'm glad too, Wally.” You give him a big smile. Wally’s gaze starts to dart all around your face as you smile at him. You are so beautiful, he can’t keep track of which part of you he thinks is the most gorgeous.

“Wow,” he mutters under his breath, completely entranced by you. He slowly lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against the back of your hand. “You really are a charmer, West.” You look away again and blush.

Wally chuckles as you turn to look away, noticing the way you blush. He can tell he’s making you feel flustered, and he secretly enjoys the effect he has on you.

He places another kiss on the back of your hand before pulling away and setting your hand back down.“You’re not bad yourself, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Let’s go home before I vomit with all this romance stuff.” You giggle saying. Wally throws his head back and laughs at your words, shaking his head. You’ve always been one to get flustered when it comes to talking about romance.

He stands, holding his hand out for you again to take. “Come one, let's get you home.”You walk with Wally to the car. Wally leads you back out to the car, opening the door for you before getting into the driver’s seat. He smiles as you get in on your side, starting the car.

“You know,” he says after a moment, turning to look at you, “I’d love to do this again sometime.”

“I would actually like that a lot.” You grab his hand and squeeze it as reassurance. Wally feels a rush of warmth when you squeeze his hand; a smile grows on his face. He glances down at where your hands are joined, starting to rub his thumb across your knuckle again.

“Maybe next time you can choose who plans the date,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk. I sit up from the seat and lean towards Wally, grabbing his face. “I would love that idea.”

Wally’s breath gets caught in his throat again as you lean closer to him, gently grabbing his face. He feels himself start to turn red once again. “You know,” he says as he takes his hand off the gearshift to rest it on your wrist, “you’ve been flirting with me a lot tonight. Not what I’m used to.”

“I’ve had a change of heart.” Wally’s face lights up some more at your words. You’ve finally decided to reciprocate his feelings.

“Is that so?” He asks, trying to contain his excitement. All those years of crushing on you... And here you are, flirting with him and grabbing his face.

“Does this prove it to you? You lean and kiss Wally with care. Wally is shocked into silence at the feeling of your mouth on his. He’s never been more happy in his life. He leans into the kiss, reaching over the center console to gently take hold of the back of your head with one of his hands.

Finally.

@chia369 this one is for you and thanks for the comments!!

#dc x reader #wally west x reader #wally west x you #beginner writer #for you #please like and reblog #:)

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dreamersbcll · 9 months

Note

Prompt: Toddler tara going for the first to the hospital and not wanting to be touched by anybody but sam, and this upset their parents even more and they just make the all situation worse

“Burns”

——————————————————————————

It was an accident. Really.

Sam didn’t mean to leave the stove on after making dinner. She thought that after she had made the macaroni and cheese, she had turned the dial off. Tara usually didn’t follow Sam into the kitchen. She knew better.

Until she didn’t.

Being only nine years old, Sam didn’t know what to do once she heard Tara screaming. It wasn’t the typical hungry or bored screaming that happened; it was the scream of pain.

She knew that sound well. Her baby sister wasn’t born a healthy little girl; she had been plagued with illnesses before she could walk. First, the hole in her lungs that required two months in the PICU, and then the bout of pneumonia that nearly killed her after. Now this, the colicky, asthmatic little girl she was. Pain was woven within Tara’s lifeline, always following her wherever she went.

Sam did her best to care for Tara and ensure she was tended to. It wasn’t their parent's fault- daddy worked nights, and mommy was always gone. It was her job as the big sister to take care of Tara.

So when Tara sticks her hand on the hot burner, Sam doesn’t know what to do. The smell of burning flesh made her stomach turn, and Tara’s screaming overwhelmed her. She did what she could, picking Tara up and dragging her to their parent's bedroom.

It was five p.m. on a Thursday, and neither of their parents could be seen. Between Tara's screaming and Sam’s panicked yelling, the parents must try incredibly hard to ignore them.

Holding and shushing her bloody and screaming little sister, Sam did the next best thing: bring Tara to the hospital. She’d made that walk before when she had broken her arm trying to climb into Tara's crib. It was maybe seven blocks and two right turns.

Carrying Tara with both arms, Sam half-ran and half-walked down the street. She doesn’t remember how long it took. Maybe an hour. Maybe seven. Tara screamed the whole way, her face red. Eventually, she stopped making noise, her voice giving out, her mouth gaping open, and tears streaming down her face.

Finally, Sam made it to Woodsboro Memorial. She half-dragged Tara to the front desk, trying to flag down anyone to see them.

“Help! Please help me! My sister is hurt! Help!” she wailed, hoping that anyone, just someone, would stop and help them.

Luckily for Sam, the hospital was full of adults who would notice and tend to them. In a minute, Tara was scooped up onto a bed, and Sam was dragged along with the nurses.

—-

Sam was sleeping peacefully on the chair beside Tara's bed, her head resting against the bed rail. Tara had her good hand in her hair, her other one bandaged and in a sling. Both sisters were sleeping peacefully until their parents entered the room.

“Tara. No seas malo. Dame la mano. Mírame. ¡Tara, mírame!” snapped Christina, shaking Tara a bit.

(Tara. Don’t be bad. Give me your hand. Look at me. Tara, look at me!)

Sam snapped awake, rubbing her eyes. Her father was standing in the corner of the room, glaring at Sam, while her mother shook Tara awake. Her little sister’s eyes were swollen, and the oxygen cannulas in her nose were loose. Tara tried to pull away, squirming and whimpering while their mother tried to grab Tara's injured hand.

“Mami, no! El médico dijo que no. Tara tiene que descansar. ¡Su mano está quemada!” Sam said, trying to push her mom off of Tara.

(The doctor said no. Tara has to rest. Her hand is burned!)

Christina Carpenter pulled away, her eyes dark. “¿Y de quién es la culpa? Se supone que debes vigilarla. ¡Y ahora está herida! Estoy decepcionado contigo Samantha. ¡Es mi bebé, y la lastimaste!”

(And who’s fault is that? You’re supposed to watch her. And now she’s hurt! I’m disappointed in you, Samantha. That’s my baby, and you hurt her!)

Sam pulled her hands back, recoiling as if she had been slapped. She had done her best. She didn’t mean to let Tara get hurt. It was a busy night from school and picking up Tara from daycare- it slipped her mind. She was only nine. She did her best.

While she reeled with her mother’s words, Christina tried to pick up Tara again, her little sister not having any of it. Tara kept squirming and crying out, pushing her mother away with her good hand.

“No, mami, no! Quiero a Sammy. ¡Dame a Sammy! ¡Sammy!” wailed Tara, pushing against her mother’s grip.

(I want Sammy. Give me Sammy. Sammy!)

Christina immediately dropped Tara back onto the bed, not even blinking at how Tara gasped in pain. She turned to Sam, her eyes dark, her lips pulled back in a snarl. Sam shrunk at the look, knowing that she was about to be hurt. She closed her eyes, hoping it hurt less if she didn’t see it coming.

After a beat of silence, Sam opened her eyes, realizing her mother hadn’t hurt her yet. Instead, her parents were leaving, her mother halfway through the door.

Before she could push through, she turned back to Sam, glaring hard. “Tú la trajiste aquí. Llévala a casa. Esto es culpa tuya, Samantha. Nunca lo olvides.”

(You brought her here. You take her home. This is your fault, Samantha. Never forget that)

And with that, her mother left, her father already out the door. Sam took a shuddering breath in, tears forming in her eyes. She didn’t mean to hurt Tara. She loved Tara. This was her fault. She was a bad big sister. A very bad big sister.

Sniffling, she turned back to her baby sister, who looked at her with such sad eyes. Reaching out with her good hand, Tara tried to grab Sam.

“Sammy,” breathed her baby sister, trying to pull her in.

Smiling a little, Sam pulled her little sister to her chest, soothing her. Tara snuggled into her shoulder, sighing in relief. Rubbing Tara’s back, she held onto her, kissing her little head and whispering good things into her ear.

Sam may have hurt Tara today, but her little girl still loved her no matter what. That had to matter more.

At least, she hoped.

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #ao3 author #my writing tag #sad but good?#baby tara and baby sam #AU: a house in woodsboro

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competicao-de-aop · 7 months

Text

Round 1; Kaiser Vs Gal

Propaganda:

Kaiser:

– sou lésbica mas sei apreciar um bom homem

– meu parça o mano exala sensualidade fumante gostoso moreno MINEIRO (minas melhor estado pprt) nerdola cabeludo (a cicatriz fudida deu mais charme ainda) faria o maior sucesso no tumblr. trans coded (pra mim) mandando a imagem deles desmaiado pq eh mto engraçado pra mim. paz entre nós ✌️

Gal:

– tem cara de personagem de donghua onde eles ficam queerbaiting por 12 temporadas antes de morrer

– vilão slay c backstory fudido, trauma religioso e uma irmã perdida. e ele é emo. como se n bastasse BISEXUAIS AMAM HOMENS DE CABELO COMPRIDO MAIS Q QLQR COISA. ELE TB USA BATOM PRETO COMO Q O GAL N GANHOU O ULTIMO TORNEIO. E TATUAGENS. E UNHA PINTADA. EU TO HIPERVENTILANDO.

Translation:

Kaiser:

– I'm a lesbian but I know how to appreciate a good man

– bro my brother exudes sensuality, smoker hot brunette FROM MINAS GERAIS (minas gerais the best state tbh) nerd with big hair (the fucked up scar gave even more charm) would be a huge hit on tumblr. trans coded (for me) sending an image of him passed out because it's really funny to me. peace ✌️

Gal:

– he looks like a donghua character where they queerbait for 12 seasons before dying

– slay villain w fucked up backstory, religious trauma and a lost sister. and he is emo. as if it wasn't enough BISEXUALS LOVE MEN WITH LONG HAIR MORE THAN ANYTHING. HE ALSO WEARS BLACK LIPSTICK HOW DIDN'T GAL WIN THE LAST TOURNAMENT. AND TATTOOS. AND PAINTED NAILS. I'M HYPERVENTILATING.

Translator note: minas gerais is a Brazilian state!

#desconjuração Spoilers #Desconjuração #round 1 #ordem paranormal

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sissy-frydda · 1 year

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PARTE 1

When I was young and was in charge of my older cousins, they dressed me like a princess, from the little pink panties to the delicate bow in my hair. A soft makeup and color on my lips, we were the three naughty little sisters.

One day, my uncle Juan came to the farm, he came from the city to visit his daughters and he found us playing nurses. I immediately felt very embarrassed and ran to change my clothes but he stopped me. He sat me on his knees and began to speak softly to me as he slid his firm, calloused hand up my legs under my skirt until he reached my panties. "Guys shouldn't wear panties", he told me. "That makes guys like other things you know?"

His right hand began to caress the soft curve of my crotch, I would have had a powerful erection if my panties had allowed it, it felt like the hands of my cousins but his was firm and warm and he knew where to caress. With his left hand he pushed the hair away from my neck and I felt how his mustache stung my neck while he was ecstatic with my perfume. Then with a determined gesture, he grabbed my hips and settled me on his fly. There was something hot and hard there that he made sure I felt and it really was something big and beefy. He took my hips with his left hand and made me rub on that pillar of meat while he touched my crotch through my panties. My buttocks began to come and go and I could do nothing to escape the situation. My cousins in front of me contemplated that life lesson with excitement. Then he kissed my neck and told me that I was a beautiful girl and I melted in my panties, it was an explosion of semen that I couldn't control and I immediately felt how the cock in his pants became very tense and pulsating. His growls scared me but I knew right away that he had ejaculated a lot of cum because he drenched my tail with his hot sperm. He gave Andrea, Laura and me 100 dollars. It wouldn't be the only time.

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

Cuando era jovencito y quedaba a cargo de mis primas mayores, ellas me vestían como una princesa, desde la bombachita rosada hasta el delicado moño en el pelo. Un maquillaje suave y color en mis labios, éramos las tres hermanitas traviesas. Cierto día, llegó mi tío Juan a la granja, venía de la ciudad a visitar a sus hijas y nos encontró jugando a las enfermeras. De inmediato sentí mucha vergüenza y corrí a cambiarme de ropa pero el me detuvo. Me sentó sobre sus rodillas y comenzo a hablarme suavemente mientras deslizaba su mano callosa y firme por mis piernas bajo mi falda hasta llegar a mi bombacha. "Los chicos no deben usar braguitas" , me dijo. "Eso hace que a los chicos le gusten otras cosas sabes?"

Su mano derecha, comenzó a acariciar la suave curva de mi entrepierna, hubiera tenido una poderosa ereccion si las bragas me lo hubieran permitido, se sentía como las manos de mis primas pero la suya era firme y caliente y sabía donde acariciar. Con su mano izquierda apartó el pelo de mi nuca y sentía como picaba su bigote en mi cuello mientras el se extasiaba con mi perfume. Luego con un gesto decidido, me sujeto de las caderas y me acomodó sobre su bragueta. Allí había algo caliente y duro que el se aseguró que yo sintiera y realmente era algo grande y fornido. Tomaba mis caderas con su mano izquierda y me hacia frotar e sobre aquel pilar de carne a la ves que me tocaba la entrepierna por sobre las bragas. Mis nalgas empezaron a ir y venir y yo nada podía hacer para escapar de la situación. Mis primas frente a mi contemplaban exitadas aquella lección de vida. Entonces el me besó la nuca y me dijo que era una hermosa chica y me derreti en las bragas, fue una explosión de semen que no pude controlar e inmediatamente sentí como el grueso miembro en su pantalón se ponía muy tenso y pulsatil. Sus gruñidos me asustaron pero enseguida supe que había eyaculado un montón de leche porque me empapo la cola con su esperma caliente. Nos regalo a Andrea, Laura y a mi, 100 dólares. No sería la única vez.

#feminine sissy #feminization husband #forced feminized #panty sissy #sexy femboy #sissi femboi #trans femboy #sissy tasks #crossdreser ass

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incorrect-play-it-by-ear · 4 months

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Jess was ready for chaos in Heartbeat Hospital. Long before Mano had the chance to say he wanted plenty of dramatic asides, she said "this is the love of my life" "I am performing heart surgery on him" and "I am my twin sister in disguise". Like how do you keep up with that

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berberriescorner · 2 years

Note

Get Your Act Together” - Angel Reyes x Black Reader snippet. Pleaseeee 🙏🏽

Sorry it took a minute to answer. I never got the notification for the ask lovely. It’s not edited so please excuse any mistakes. Hope you enjoy it💓!

Angel Reyes x Black!Reader

Snippet:

“Get Your Act Together”

Your heels clicked over to Angel. Sliding your hands up his chest, you looked up at him with fluttering lashes. Face painted with an innocent expression, you stood on your tiptoes to steal a quick kiss. He smiled down at you thinking he had won. You leaned in and teased him.

“Ass fat. Kitty fat. I got all these men wishing they could have that. Baby, just admit that you love it here,” you smirked trying to get a rise out of him.

Angel kissed his teeth and was about to say something sarcastic, but Ez cut him off, “God, I did not need to know that,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, bro but he needs to be reminded of what he’s got at home,” you teased the flustered Mayan.

Kissing his teeth Angel retorted, “you the one acting up. Better chill out before I give you some act right.”

“I mean come on ‘mano, that ass is fat. You better appreciate that fine ass woman,” Coco challenged.

Angel looked at him as if he had lost his mind. It took everything in Ezekiel to keep from laughing.

Still staring at Coco like a mad man he replied, “bitch, do you want me to shoot you? Stop looking at my girl’s ass!”

Ezekiel wanted in on busting his brother's ball’s. Like a typical annoying baby brother, he chimed in, “sister or not. We’re not actual blood, so I’ve gotta agree with Coco, brother-.”

“Don’t finish that fucking statement Ezekiel,” Angel warned.

Ez and Coco exchanged a knowing glance before the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“What? It’s the truth! That’s a nice ass, with a nice set of ti-.”

In a split second Angel was lunging at Ezekiel. With your help, Coco managed to break up the scuffle amongst the brothers.

Feedback is greatly appreciated my loves. Feel free to love and reblog🥰.

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theshinazugawaslut · 24 days

Note

Thank you for responding to my question but i was worried i'd end up sounding rude or invasive ˙◠˙ you talk about your sister so sweetly its genuinely so heartwarming how does mano see you since u said u see her like 'stars and diamonds' and 'the prettiest girl in the world with the warmest heart' ᴖ̈ᴖ̈ᴖ̈ᴖ̈

Mano says: "A very empathetic person who thinks she's at fault for a lot of things but needs to chill out. Very responsible. Doesn't see the world as an overall good place but sees the good in the world. Doesn't have unrealistic expectations for anyone including herself and can determine what's right from wrong no matter how harsh.

/ I am genuinely squealing since Mano refuses to praise me outside of her personal reflective portfolio or unless someone asks.

#esha answers your questions #i love my sister #but she thinks i'm very self-blaming #which is slightly true lmao #my mano is the nicest girl in the whole wide world #love my baby mano

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proceduralpassion · 8 months

Text

Depth Over Distance

Prompt: Day 1 Of Narcoctober - Create a fanwork about a canon character you’ve never written about/used before

Characters: Mika Camarena x Brother!OC (Michael Luna)

CW: language, discussions of grief/death

WC: ~2.2K

A/N: Hiiii friends, my first Mika fic! Credit to @nocturnal-milk-dud for the pic above. Also, if you've read my IWBSS series, you're probably already familiar with my OC Michael Luna, who's actually Mika's older brother. Had so much fun writing their sibling dynamic and a little insight into how Michael winds up in Colombia. Hope you enjoy 💖

“Just the person I wanted to see.”

“Michael!” Mika exclaimed in both surprise and excitement. It’d been a while since she’d seen her older brother, a steady presence in her life for as long as she could remember. His position as an agent for the Mexico Interpol field office kept him busy, but that wasn’t why he’d been keeping his distance.

The two of them basked in their hug before taking a seat next to one another and looking out at the baseball practice field. The park may as well have been a second home for her with how often she was here for her oldest son’s practices and games.

“How’ve you been? Work must be keeping you busy, mano.”

Michael shrugged, “It’s never not, unfortunately.”

She hummed in response. They were no strangers to sitting in silence, savoring how the quiet was an easier kind of forgiveness. Their relationship didn’t allow for conflict or discord. It was effortless even at its inception. Maybe it was the decade length of age difference, but Mika and Michael had never been the type of siblings to fight.

“How’s he doing?” Michael asks, nudging his chin towards his oldest nephew.

“Better. He’s been putting a lot more power behind those swings,” Mika sighs, “I’m glad he has the outlet. He needs it.”

She had planned on taking him out for the season after Kiki’s passing, but he begged for her to keep him in. Now, as she watched him pour every ounce of grief into his swings, she wanted to kick herself for ever thinking of the idea. Somehow, the conscience inside his little body craved for something he hadn’t realized he would need. An outlet.

Mika chuckles to herself, wishing she had one of those. Some kind of avenue to channel every emotion bouncing in the recesses of her heart and mind. But every second of every day was dedicated to making sure her boys would and could grow up without such a vital figure in their lives. Anything less than 100% was unacceptable to her.

Michael coming to these games might’ve been the only adult interaction she got these days. Her life had become a precise routine, down to the hour, and she never veered from it, too afraid that the facade of togetherness would shatter with any detour. She clinged to the sense of normalcy and warmth she got from their bleacher seat conversations, even if they were of the most mundane topics. And mundane they were.

Michael’s way of helping his little sister grieve was to simply not bring it up. She had more than enough people asking if she was alright, he figured. So he didn’t ask. He was patient with her and comforting during those moments when it all felt like too much and she needed a good cry. Otherwise, he carried on as usual. The first practice after Kiki’s funeral, Michael sat down next to her and started talking about some new television show he started watching called Murder, She Wrote and how he confused Angela Lansbury with Agatha Christie.

It’s the first time she bursts into laughter since she became a widow. She calls him an idiot and explains that they are indeed two different people, though Angela had starred in a film based on Agatha’s novel. Later that week, she watches an episode of Murder, She Wrote so she can discuss the episode with him.

Another week, he brings polvorones. He notices she’s losing weight and this is his silent way of getting her to recuperate her appetite. She’s never been able to resist the crumbly shortbread sweets and smiles to himself when she takes the bag from him and hogs them all to herself.

Ever perceptive, she knows the intentions behind the gesture, but doesn’t acknowledge it beyond obnoxiously licking her fingers after finishing them all.

“What if I wanted more?” He jokes.

“Too bad.”

He holds his youngest nephew in his arms as Mika rounds up her oldest, adrenaline-drunk son. He should be dead tired after the lively game under this scorching sun, but his team won and he’s still amped up as they walk back to their cars.

Her youngest babbles in baby talk and Michael indulges by nodding his head, as if actually following along with whatever the infant is trying to convey.

Mika catches it and remarks, “He could be telling you that he thinks your goatee looks like a ferret on your chin and there you are, nodding and smiling like a doofus.”

He looks at his nephew, seemingly ignoring his little sister’s comical dig, “What do you think, sobrino? No más polvorones para tu madre, ¿bien?”

Mika’s eyes widened, “Wait, nevermind. He said that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing today.”

All in all, she’s not sure she’d be keeping it together if not for her big brother. It’s only once a week that she usually sees him, but the other six days are filled with longing. It’s like she crawls desperately every day so that she can get to the day where she finally sees him.

He’s been less present this past month. Skipping practices and games, leaving vague voicemails on her machine in the aftermath. When she does get to see him, he’s more withdrawn which is saying a lot coming from a man of so few words already. She doesn’t breach the topic. Namely, it’s because she’s got a lot going on as a young widow and mother, but also because Michael’s not the kind of person you cajole or nag on. He’ll come to you when he’s ready but will blow away like a leaf if you push him too hard.

It’s annoying, but again, they’re the kind of siblings who roll their eyes at each other, rather than fully air their grievances and argue.

“I’ve got a job offer in Medellin, Colombia.”

When she learns of Kiki’s death, it’s like the noxious feeling that takes over you when you jump out of a plane with no parachute. Your stomach doesn’t drop, but your senses are swiped from you. You can’t see because grief is like the air that blasts into your eyes. You can’t hear because your ears have just been violently assaulted with the worst news of your life. If you touch anything, it’s like you’re grasping nothingness because how else are your hands supposed to act when they know they’ll never touch their lover again?

When Michael tells Mika he’s leaving, it’s more like a rollercoaster. There is a drop in her stomach. She feels nauseous. Her stomach roils in spirals.

With her husband’s death, it was a long, unidirectional descent that left her fractured in pieces when the news landed on her.

With her brother leaving, it’s like the sudden drops, the highs and lows, and loops of a rollercoaster.

She’s proud because she knows how hard he works at his job.

Loop.

She’s angry because he’s leaving for an entirely different country and that solid mass of reliance that she’s had for the past four months is leaving with him.

Loop.

She’s scared out of her mind because how is she supposed to function now that she’s realized he’s become a crux?

Another fucking loop.

She only nods when she finally digests the news enough to form a response.

But when he follows her home, something he hasn’t done before, she slaps him two steps into stepping into the house.

And then she goes to grab him an ice pack in short order, because shit she didn’t mean to do that even though it kinda felt good. He takes it and they sit on the couch together once the boys are in bed for the night. Michael hasn’t taken the ice pack to his face at all in the couple of hours since she slapped him. Finally, she takes it from his grasp and holds it in the hand that she striked across his face. All this time, it’s been sore and she presses the mostly water but still somewhat chilly pack onto it.

“That shit hurt, didn’t it?”

Mika laughs and laughs until the queasy feeling in her stomach is replaced by aches from the overuse of her accessory muscles in snickering loudly at his comment. She cackles even more as she notes the red hand print forming on his cheek, knowing that it probably hurt as much for him as it did for her. He’s just too fucking prideful and that’ll never change.

Once her laughter finally leaves the room, Michael heaves a heavy sigh.

“I don’t have to leave for another month. And Christmas isn’t that far away when you think about so… I’ll be home, then.”

Christmas is six months away and she already struggles through the other six days of the week that she doesn't see him.

She could tell him not to go, but to her, that would be admitting weakness and he’s already the one person that doesn’t pity her or treats her with kid gloves. And she is feeling pretty weak right about now, and she knows that he knows it, but it’s different when you have to verbally admit that.

She also tells him not to go because she knows that he’ll stay.

When she was six, she watched a horror movie called El Monstruo resucitado even after the warnings from her parents not to. They were out having dinner with friends and only her and Michael were home. He comes out into the living room to see her cowering in the corner at the image of the disfigured creature who possessed the eponymous character. Sure, like any other sixteen year old brother would do, he laughed and teased her for being afraid of some dumb movie, but later that night, his face veers into resolute seriousness when she finally breaks and tearily begs for him to sleep at the foot of her bed so that the monster man doesn’t come to hurt her.

His back feels like shit the next morning and he still continues teasing her when she gets in trouble from her parents for watching the movie, but she knows then that he would do anything he asked of her.

She had a will right now, in the present day, not to break no matter how much the rope of her composure bent. And damn, did she want to break.

But if there was anything else that kept her glued into one piece these days, it was rage.

Rage at the ones responsible for her husband’s death. Rage at the existence of drug cartels. Rage that they wielded such strong enough power to rot out the heart of entire families. Leaving them in shades of gray and blue from the lack of oxygen and the rush of anguish and despair that came in to replace it from the air.

The drug trade was as interconnected and intricate as the labyrinth webs that spiders spun. And their touch was just as covert and venomous. There were ties between the Guadalajara cartel and Medellin cartel that necessitated relationships between the law enforcement agencies trying to sever them. A man with Michael’s accomplishment and knowledge was the perfect person needed in Colombia as the cobwebs grew.

If that led to the takedown of not only the men who murdered her beloved but also all the other scum just like him, then she opined that he absolutely needed to go.

Michael knows that his little sister will stand on her own two feet and continue carrying herself, carrying her boys forward into this new, harrowing chapter of their lives. He doesn’t doubt for a second that they’ll be okay and he acknowledges as much when he says, “Do me a favor and make an individual tres leche just for me on Christmas. Don’t tell her I said that, but I hate when mamá puts all those mangos in it.”

And because that’s their “thing”, she jokes, “I’ll tell her and put extra mangos when I make it for you.”

She’s not sure where she goes from here, but she’s got two young boys relying on her and a husband whose demise deserves retribution.

She leans on her brother as they watch an episode of Murder, She Wrote together while night blankets the sky outside. If there’s any source of strength that she can gain from what’s probably their last night of one-on-one bonding, she’s quick to cipher it for all of its worth.

They’ve said “I love you” to each other maybe a handful of times in their lifetime. They don’t say it now. It doesn’t need to be said.

She can’t see what the other end of the tunnel looks like.

The light’s too dim and she’s all alone. But if she closes her eyes and listens closely enough, she can hear him, hear Michael’s voice.

Where life takes her next, she’s gotta do it alone. But she knows he’ll always be the one to catch her before she falls. The one who protects her from monsters and demons, even the ones taking hold in her head.

Two thousand miles of space between them could never change that.

It was always depth over distance for them.

Click here if you want to be added to my taglist! Taglist: @asirensrage @narcosfandomdiscord

#narcos mexico #mika camarena #mika camarena x oc #narcoctober #c: michael luna

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

Text

Runaway - Chapter Seventeen.

Bloody hell, you guys got to those thirty notes quickly, didn’t you? Thank you so much for your engagement! I really love reading through all your comments, and I concur with you all, too. They’re bad, but I’m sorry, you will all be despairing of them for a while yet. But, that does mean to get smut, so I guess it evens out, doesn’t it? :D

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 1,734

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“All I’ve been able to think about all morning is coming up here and getting to watch this perfect fuckin’ ass bounce on me. Mmmmm, shit, darlin’.”

That deep grit of a groan, his voice gone to gravel entirely as he clutched her ass cheeks in a firm grip, releasing one to spank it hard, sent a bonfire of lust burning straight through Hannah, riding him reverse cowgirl on the couch during her work break. Some people chose a sandwich; she chose an outlaw with a nine-inch cock.

An affair. To say it was anything less at that point, ten days after they’ve first had sex would be a complete lie. They had no idea where it was going, if anywhere at all, their mouths buttoned where actually communicating it with each other was concerned, focusing solely on the thrill of it.

Because it was thrilling. Make no mistake.

“How’d you want to finish?” she panted, looking back over her shoulder with a smouldering pout, winking at him. “Deep in my pussy, all over my tits, or in my mouth?”

His eyes closed tightly for a second, his jaw twitching. God, she was such a temptress when she was getting fucked. He enjoyed it so much, the different parts that made up Hannah Gray. An elegant lady in business, a buddy on the couch with drinks and snacks while screaming at the football game on TV, and an absolute freak in the sheets.

“In your mouth, so back that fine assed little pussy right on up here so I can make you cum in mine, too.” He grabbed her hips, towing her towards his face, his lips wrapping her soaking slit in a strong suck as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, spanking her again hard, her lily-white ass red from the handprints he’d left behind.

He ate her like a starving animal, groaning the entire time, hand pounding her so hard combined with his cock rooted so deep in her throat, her eyes streamed, her hand cupping his balls as she felt glimmers rushing up her spine, a bolt of pure, white-hot and fever rich pleasure consuming her, his cock flooding her mouth a second later.

That was Wednesday. On Saturday, with Lola staying over with her granny Val, Hannah at a loose end and Carmen away with her sister, Manny saw a surprise walk into the clubhouse at just gone 8pm.

“Dude, the fuckin’ blonde who just walked up in here. Premium hottie, man,” Gilly spoke, giving Manny several digs in the side with his elbow.

Manny turned, his grin widening when he saw Hannah there, looking gorgeous, dressed in all black other than the pair of deep pink heels upon her pretty feet. “Y’all need to chill, mano. That’s my baby mama.” Sliding from the barstool as she approached, he felt his heart racing. God, she was so effortlessly beautiful, her eyes accentuated with a smudge of dark kohl, her cheeks soft pink and glossy, the scent of her fluttering under his nose. Peonies.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

Hannah tilted her head back, her throat flexing in a way that made him want to immediately take a tour of her swan-like neck with his mouth. “Casablanca, huh?”

“Hell yeah. Bogart was a straight up G.” He looked her up and down, dark eyes burning through the feathery concealment of the longest eyelashes she’d ever witnessed, her pulse flickering rapidly. “So, what can I do for you tonight, Hannah banana?”

She stepped closer, her hands reaching for his flannel, pulling him close, her lips ghosting the outer edge of his ear, sending a pleasant chill right through him. “I need you to take me somewhere, bend me over, and give me every last inch of that perfect cock.”

He always did appreciate it when a woman got right to the point. “I think that can be arranged.” He nodded to the doors, Hannah taking the lead, his attention attracted by a nearby Angel and Lily, the latter letting out a piercing wolf whistle.

“Quit it,” he warned through a burst of laughter.

“Make me!” she chirped, waving. “Hey, Hannah!”

“Hiya.” she called, waving back, a little embarrassed as the rest of the guys caught on, jeering, slapping tables, adding a few more choruses of whistles. They knew the score. No one walked in looking as smoking as Hannah had if all she wanted from the father of her child was a casual chat.

Some might think it deplorable, to encourage Manny’s blatant cheating on his fiancée, but much like Hannah’s loved ones with Michael, none of them could stand Carmen. Also, they didn’t consider it their business to chastise him. He’d gotten himself into this, it was up to him to get himself out.

Walking across the yard, Manny felt the blood rushing to his cock just from watching the smooth glide of her gait and the sensual roll of her hips, watching as she turned, biting her lower lip.

“So, where are we going?”

He didn’t reply in words, ducking down and throwing her over his shoulder, Hannah squeaking as he carried her in the direction of the office, rooting in his kutte pocket for his bunch of keys. The ache of arousal had her flooding her underwear before he’d even set her down on the other side, Manny kicking the door shut, his mouth upon hers as soon as she’d slid from his shoulder, impatient hands unfastening her tight, black jeans.

Stealing his mouth from hers, he turned her roughly, yanking her jeans and undies to her knees before he pushed her down over the counter, pulling his cock free and bending to reach her, rubbing the head of his hardness through the warm silk of her slit.

“Yeah, is that what you want?”

Her breath hitched tight in her throat, sparks skittering through her clit as hard, hot heat rubbed over it. “Please, don’t tease me. Just fuck me.” Her mouth dropped open at feeling him slide into her fully, Manny realising the vast height difference would work against them, his hands grasping her hips and lifting her, holding her little body with ease as he began to thrust into her with long, firm strokes.

It was ebullience dipped in raw lust, her fingers curling around the counter as she was shunted across it with the power of his cock hitting her summit again and again, her walls clenching around him, bathing him in the warm wet of her cunt, Manny watching his cock become slicker with every thrust, the lights from the yard providing just enough illumination to see her dew sparkling on his shaft, his short nails leaving crescents upon her hips as they dug in, his pounding merciless, torrid, exactly what she needed.

Each snap of his hips had her mumbling in incoherence, choked pleas tumbling from her lips as he dragged the velvet clasp of her, hitting a spot deep within that lit her up, igniting her pleasure, his groans all smoke and rasp. His thighs tensed, his abs quaking as he felt her flutter around him, his hips stuttering as he spilled into her, hot ropes of cum flooding her quivering walls as her voice broke upon a shrill cry. Colours bloomed behind her closed eyelids, her light gleaming over the dark horizon of her lover, leaving her fighting for breath.

“Holy fuck,” he panted, resting his head between her shoulders.

“Right?” she exclaimed, still dizzy from the burst of her orgasm. “We’re the best at sex.”

“Damned straight.” He put her down, sliding from within her with a slippery pop, fastening himself back into his jeans, Hannah noticing the restroom and going to make use. Once straightened out, she walked back to him, his arms encircling her waist as he pulled her close, leaning to kiss her. “For making me cum so fucking hard, I feel like I’m about to pass out, let me get you a drink.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” she agreed. “Only one, though. I’m driving.” He nodded, walking back out and locking the office behind them, heading back into the clubhouse and a scene of complete hilarity, at the expense of one Coco Cruz.

“I swear to god, Jodie. If you get any of your baby soup on me, imma go ape shit!” he protested, Hannah witnessing the sight of Jodie walking up and down, stopping every so often with a pained face. She then moved to sit on his lap, bearing down with a grimace, Coco aghast as she laughed at his disgust. “EZ! Control your wife, homes!”

His friend shrugged, sipping his soda. “She’s gone four days overdue, she’s past the point of control now.”

Hannah took her drink from Manny, reaching to touch a hand to Jodie’s shoulder as she heaved herself up again. “It’s Jodie, right?”

“Yes, hi!” she confirmed, giving her a little hug. “You’re Hannah, aren’t you?”

“I am, and I have advice. If you want your waters to break, get your man to take you home and straight to bed. I went overdue with Lola, and while I didn’t have anyone to do that for me, the other mothers who were in the maternity unit at the same time as I assured me that sex was a great way to speed things up. You having Braxton Hicks or anything?”

“I’ve been having contractions all afternoon, but they aren’t speeding up, or going away, so I think I am I labour opposed to them being false, but they told me to only come in if my waters break or they begin to become more regular. I’m tired, I’m uncomfortable and I just want him out now!”

Hannah nodded in understanding. “I hear you, girl. You feel like someone fed you three gallons of laxatives and sewed your butt up, right?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s exactly it!” She then winced, her hands flapping. “Contraction.”

Grabbing her hand, Hannah reached to rub her lower back. “Breathe deep, in for six, out for eight, repeat. There you go.”

Manny couldn’t help but notice it, how swiftly and seamlessly Hannah had blended into his world. The difference between her and Carmen was like night and day, and it wasn’t lost on him at all. Not even for a second.

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