#+i am a hoe for nice shoes

[baekuras]

post tooth op: well my tounge is still numb (every.time.god damn it) but this was more relaxing than expected

[goose-duck]

Mandela Catalogue incorrect quotes 🌻

~~~~~~

Alternate Cesar: that's a nice heartbeat you have.

Mark: 😀

~~~~~~

Adam: do you have any chocolate? I lost all my things when I killed myself...

Thatcher: 🤨

~~~~~~

Evelin: what if you don't have a phone?

Adam: are you broke?

Evelin: I am not broke!!

~~~~~~

Adam: I'm a single sock 😔

Jonah: I'm a foot!!

~~~~~~

Intruder: the space hoe

Alternate Gabriel: excuse me?

~~~~~~

Sarah: *talking about Adam* you're worthy, you can do it, and then he couldn't fucking do it

Evelin: sounds like Adam

~~~~~~

Adam: I'm gonna blow it up

Jonah: we can't just blow shit up, you damn psycho!

~~~~~~

Adam: anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?

Jonah: no..?

Adam: well they should.

~~~~~~

Jonah: *trying to bond with Adam* I'm bonding with you!! Be my friend!!

Adam: *resisting friendship*

~~~~~~

Thatcher: where are my foot holders?

Ruth: what?? What's wrong with you..

Thatcher: shoes...i meant shoes...

Ruth: "foot holders" fucking dumb ass...

~~~~~~

Mark: why is the tap dripping?

Cesar: maybe you're making it nervous?

Mark: w-what?

Cesar: wait...no...

~~~~~~

Jonah: I'm holding all the hands

Sarah: is there a hand you haven't held?

Jonah: I don't think so

Sarah: you've even held Adam's hand..?

Jonah: mhm, he's really sweaty

Evelin: *loud laughter*

~~~~~~

alternate Gabriel: you need to focus on being happy, you look ugly like that

Dave: *frowns more*

~~~~~~

intruder: translate my words into actual words

Adam: ☹️

~~~~~~

Jonah: do you remember the last time you ate a baseball?

Adam: this is why I hate you.

~~~~~~

Thatcher: it's too early to create a new face of failure

~~~~~~

Alternate Ceser: I'm 99% gushers and 1% water

Mark: that explains some things...

~~~~~~

Intruder: I once ate poison ivy

~~~~~~

Adam: I used to lick batteries as a child...

Jonah: mmm, those are good...

~~~~~~

[mrchiipchrome]

I hate people who say ‘swearing doesn’t make you cooler it just makes you sound immature’ like bitch I don’t do it for you or to sound cool I do it bc I need to express myself in the way I fucking feel like. Do you expect me to say ‘holy moly I had a really bad lesson’??? Like ffs if I wanna tell my teacher that the lesson went like fucking shit then I should be able to without fucking criticism, I literally don’t even do it for anyone except myself so you can shut your fat ass up and keep failing everything you fucking piece of shit pick me ‘I’m so much better than everyone else because I don’t swear’ ass bitch. Like we’re not even friends so how can you fucking dare try to tell me what to do, unprovoked and unprompted, I don’t tell you to stop being so fucking stupid and yet you are, fucking no ass, no friends, no nothing ass person trying to make me be like her loser ass self like shut the fuck up and disappear not like you’d be missed by anyone you fucking worthless piece of human garbage. Instead of trying to tell me to check my language, try checking the door before you walk in the room you Oompa Loompa, 10000 kg, no sense of style, looking like you got dressed in the dark, paler than a fucking vampire, failure, no one likes you, no bitches, no future ass bitch. She honestly needs to check her superiority complex because she’s truly more pathetic than me trying to find a gf, I swear even if she was the last woman in the world not a single person would hit, looking like an iguana mixed with a trash can and lighter fluid, she looks like the melted version of wheelchair Barbie only if wheelchair Barbie was plus size Barbie, no eyebrows ass bitch, no eyelashes ass bitch, caca eyes ass bitch, shit stained face ass bitch, skid mark ass bitch, looking like her name is skidmore muncy, cankles having ass bitch. When I say that your standards would have to be in Dante’s 8th circle of hell to even look her way I am not fucking lying, her wannabe goody two shoes ass persona is so fucking annoying I swear it makes me want to rip my ears and eyes out the second I hear and see her, and don’t even get me started on her fucking voice that sounds like a giraffes shit hitting your head whilst someone plays an out of tune piano and drags their nails over a chalkboard. Her entire being is like a a cancerous cell, I swear that she’s a failed fucking abortion because there is genuinely no way anyone would willingly give birth to that creature, someone had to have a gun to her mothers head all throughout labour to keep her pushing bc that child would never be born otherwise. I swear I couldn’t be paid to be that annoying ass bitches friend, it would make me even more suicidal than just hearing her from afar would. And she pretends that she’s so good just because she listens to girl in red like fucking congratulations you’re like 90 fucking percent of lesbians, no one cares about your fucking ass music taste because you’re not important, the world doesn’t stop spinning just because you’re listening to some stereotypical artist. I swear she’s like the hitler of the school, you always have to be so fucking politically correct when you’re even near her bc otherwise she’ll start her fucking crying again like shut the fuck up and get a personality. Literally the plain boiled chicken breast of the school, she doesn’t even realize that no one likes her, and that people are only remotely nice to her because they feel bad that she has the personality of a piece of coal, she’s more boring than the word boring. She’s a pimple on the day you take the school pictures, she’s an air bubble in your veins, she’s that fucking annoying ass hoe you never want to see but always do, she’s the paper McDonald’s toys, she’s a hole in the bottom of your shoe on a rainy day, she’s the ball that hits you in the face in PE, she’s everything i strive not to be both looks wise and personality wise because if I end up like her I would legit kill myself.

[ethanlandryshotwife]

Hello 😊 how are you?

I’ve been wondering please write Xavier x shy femreader who’s a normie and they’re dating. When every time she visit Xavier at the weathervane (I don’t drink coffee, I’m hot chocolate heavy on the whipped cream), her jock best friend along with his friends go with her bc they wanted to see Xavier being clingy lovey dovey towards her. Bonus: she & her friends are also friends with Eugene Ottinger & Wednesday Addams

𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐞-𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐓.

SUMMARY: Xavier and Y/n want their friends to meet, little do they know they all made a bet on who is the clingiest.

PAIRING: Xavier Thorpe x Reader

WARNING: grammar mistakes, Xavier being a clingy hoe.

A/n: I totally agree with the hot chocolate I don't like coffee because it doesn't taste right for some reason. Thank you for this request! if you have any more don't be afraid to share<3

Words:552

This is horribly written but anyways.

___

Are you sure that your friends are okay, with me being a normie?

I text Xavier unsure about this whole thing. Me and Xavier wanted to meet each other's friends, but I am getting bad feelings about this. I hope everything goes smoothly.

Baby there is no need to be nervous they're going to love you

He replied in a matter of seconds:

Nevermore students usually hate norms because they hate them. I do not find harm to people who are different.

"Y/nnnn." A familiar voice sings from outside my room. "Are you ready?" Jaden asks me.

I have known Jaden since 1st grade. Some kids had snatched my animal crackers out of my hand, and Jaden took them back and pushed the kid onto the ground.

"Yeah, I guess,'' I answer, I grab my shoes from my shoe rack and I walk out of my room.

Once I enter the living room, I see my friends.

Tay, Jamie, & Hayden. I met all of them through Jaden. They're all like brothers to me.

They all wanted to meet Xavier to make sure 'He was right for me, ’ as they would put it.

“Hurry up we’re ready to meet your lover boy.” Jamie says. I blush at the fact that they call Xavier my lover boy.

"Let me put my shoes on." I say.

Jaden drives us to weathervane. The whole car ride was just them teasing me about Xavier.

We were the first to arrive. I picked up a booth close to the door. About two minutes later, Xavier and his friends walked through the door.

Xavier, Enid, Ajax, and Wednesdays walked toward the booth. "Hey, baby." Xavier said, then, leaning in and giving me a kiss.

Xavier slides next to me. His friends found places to sit. "Hi, I'm Enid nice to meet you!" A cheery blonde girl with pink and blue ends says, holding out her hand to shake.

"I'm Y/n." I say shaking her hand. Everyone then introduces themselves to one another.

"We've heard a lot about you." Ajax says from across the table: "A lot would be an understatement." Wednesday adds. Xavier goes red at the comment, and so do I.

The group then started talking about other things. Xavier slides his hand into mine. "I love you." he leans over and says into my ear, and I feel my face heat up.

"I love you too." I whisper into his ear. "Are you guys even listening?" Tay said, causing the whole table to look at me and Xavier.

"Me, Wednesday, Ajax, and Hayden clearly already won the bet, you guys might as well give up." Jaden says. "What I bet?'' I ask them.

Everyone's face panics except for me, Xavier, and Wednesday's natural glare.

''Idiot." Jamie says smacking the back of Jaden's head "What are you guys talking about?" Xavier asks.

"Jaden should be the one to tell them since he blabbed about it." Ajax says. "That's not fair!" Jaden whines as a two-year-old would. "Fuck! I'll do it!" Enid says rolling her eyes at the boys childist behavor.

"So basically everyone made a bet on who would be the clingiest." Enid explains.

"Anyways, I clearly one nothing new." Jaden says "You guys are so childish." I giggle.

"Who was the clingiest though?" Xavier asked

___

Send me request<3

[myrammmortal]

Chapter 39.5, it was fun while it lasted

AN: stfu prepz git a lif!111111 U SUCK!11 oh and form now on il be in vocation in englind until lik august so I wont be able 2 update 4 a while, lolz. fangz 2 evry1 hu revoiwed expect da prepz hu flamed FOK U!1 MCR RULEZ 666!111

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX666XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I woke up in da Norse’s offace on a special gothik bed. Hairgrid wuz in da bed opposite me in a comma coz Vampir and Richard had bet him up. Mr. Noris was cleaning the room. Which was very impressive for a cat.

“Oh mi satan wut happened!” I screamed. Suddenly Volxemort came. He loked less mean then usual.

“Get the fuk out u fucking bastard!11” I yielded.

“Thou hath nut killd Vampire yet!11” he said arngrily. Sudenly he started 2 cry tearz of blood al selective.

“Volxemort? OMFG what’s wrong!111” I asked.

Sudenly………. Lucian, Profesor Sinister and Serious came! Frau Schneider and Vampire were wif dem. Every1 was holding blak boxez. VOLXEMORT DISAPAERD.

“OMFG Paul Darkness Shadow Raven Buttface McGee Landers ur alive!111” Scremed Vampire. I hugged him and Frau Schneider.

“What the fuk happened?” I asked dem. “Oh my satan!11 Am I lik dead now?” I gosped.

“Paul Darkness Omnipotentia Landers u were totally shot!11” said Serious. “But da ballet could not kill u since u were form anodder time. And vampires can only be killed by steaks and not bullets. Bet you forgot about that one huh?”

“But fangz anyway!1” said Lucian holding oot his arm. I gasped. He had two arms!

“OMG I cant beleve Vampirz’ dad shot u!1” I gasped.

“Well 2 be honest Snap wuz pozzesd by Snap bak den.” said James.

“Yah he wuz a spy and posessed by himself somehow. That probably explains why there are sometimes two of him.” Serious said sadly. “He wuz really a Death Dealer.”

“And he wuz such a fuking poser 2!11” said Lucian. “He didn’t even realy no hu GC were until I told him.” Well anyway everyone tarted 2 give me presents. I was opening a blak box wif red 666s (there wuz a dvd of corps bride in it) on it when I gasped. Mr. Noris looked up angrily coz he h8ed gothz.

“You didn't give me a chance to explain yet but there aren't two Snapes. One of them is the good one called Flake and the evil one is his evil twin! But anyway... Hey haz aneone fuking seen Richard?” I asked gothikally.

“No Richard told me he wood be watching Hoes of Wax.” said Profesor Trevolry. “He duzzn’t know dat ur better. Anyway da norse said u could get up. Cum on!1”

I got up suicidally. Lucian, Serious and Profesor Sinister left. I wuz wearing a blak leather nightgun. Under that I had on a sexxy blak leather bra trimed wif blak lace, with a matching thong that said goffik dumbass on the butt and sexy fishnetz that kind hooked on 2 my thong (if u don’t get da idea massage me ill tell u). I put on a blak fishnet top under a blak MCR t-shirt, a blak leather mini with blak lace and congress shoes. I left the hospital’s wings wif Frau Schneider, Willow and Vampire.

“OMFG letz celebrate!11” gasped Willow.

“We can go c Hose of Wax wif Richard!1” giggled Vampire.

“Letz go lizzen 2 GC and kut ourselvz 666!11” said Frau Schneider. We opened da conmen room door sexily. And den………..I gasped……………………………………… Richard wuz there doing it wif Flake!1111111111111111111111111 He wuz wearing a blak tshirt wif 666 on da front and baggy jeanz.

“U fucking prep!11” we all yielded angrily.

“Yah u betrayed us!111” shooted Vampire angrily as he took out his blak gun.

“No u don’t understand!1” screamed Richard sadly as he took his thingie out of Flake. "He's the nice one and I was bored!"

“No shit u fuking suk u preppy bastard!111” said Willow trying 2 attak him (u rok girl!1). I ran suicidally to my room I sexily took a steak out.

“Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers no!11111” screamed Draco but it wuz 2 l8 I had slit muh ritsts wif it suddenly everyfing went blak again.

I guess steaks are very sharp and dangerous. So be very careful if you're preparing dinner. Just remember: Steak with the S for sharp. Knife with the K for K to handle in unsafe ways.

[superpeanutgarden]

Night Blogging

okay, *technically* I'm not using the term right. It's an old phrase from before we called it Shitposting- we blamed all the weird stuff on sleep deprivation and Australians lmao

But it's night, and I'm blogging, so here we are.

so if you've read my other long posts, you'll know I'm in multiple open polyamorous relationships... and that I'm having what one might call "a hoe phase" and an accompanying crisis about if I still have worth if I'm a slut.

Well now im having a whole different (but still slut-adjacent) crisis. Do I even know what romance is????

This didnt come out of nowhere. My girlfriend mentioned that I was dating around as though I was single several months ago. And today she- wisely- brought up that i am at risk of girl bossing too close to the sun. and I had already been thinking about how my sibling had said that our parents didnt really model romance for us, and that we were told that romantic love is just kissing your best friend. And to be clear: I TOTALLY am. I'm not lonely or touch starved or sad or maidenless (or lad-less) in any sense of the imagination.

So... why am I still pursuing people??

The tree i can understand. He's a fun fuck, and he travels the renfaire circuit so I wont see him all the time. No chance of a solid relationship, just a fun easy breezy fling.

The lookout? Similar thing. Super fun to make out with and fine as HELL, but he lives like three hours away and doesnt seem interested in going steady. I can work with that

Max is PolySaturared and we just make out when I'm over for house parties, which isnt as often as I'd like but I'm desperately trying not to have too much of a crush on him (or his wife... or his girlfriend... or his other partner) so it's fine (jesus, maybe I'm not Ace, maybe I am just autistic)

Theres my good ex and my middle school bestie, but they're hella busy and our schedules havent really lined up. Disappointing, but acceptable.

The thing these people have in common is that they are almost entirely unavailable for me to date!! Until literally a month ago I was under the impression that I was just chasing the dopamine of New relationship Energy with ethically renewable sources and I could get my cozy domestic stability from my lovely girlfriends and partner...

And then trumpet guy and I made out at one of Max's house parties.... and Then I went on two dates with The Goblin King after making out with him and the Tree at the same time on NYE. And like??? It's so weird to say that I dont think either of them are stupid hot???? (But only one of the three people I'm dating is Stupid Hot, so there is precedent but?) It feels kinda weird and disingenuous to want to spend more time with these people who I'm not crushing on

And yet im Quickly falling head over clown shoes for trumpet guy. He's cute and fun and he asked me out on a date to dress way fancy and get sushi and go see a musical and???? I had just been telling a classmate that I didnt feel like I had been properly romanced since high school and?????? While I'm an impatient slut, it feels nice to be pursued.

The goblin king is really fucking sweet, and he's got really nice hair, but I'll wait to try talking myself out of liking him until after our next date... (too late, cant unthink that. I'll bring it up in person. He's really cool and I do want to still be his friend, but we both live with parents who would NOT get it so that kinda makes it hard to have solo couple time... or any couple time. It's not like I have to make a choice anytime soon but the dude deserves to know that I'm not sure if there's anything for us beyond friendship and the occasional kiss. Heck, we've only made out the one time and not even just us.)

Anyway, what's tumblr for other than an online diary??

[sunandflame]

Sunny my love♥️♥️♥️

Congratulations on 550! You deserve the recognition and love for all the heart throbs and angst you give us😘🤣

Question time feat. my weird taste lol

1. What’s your favorite snack? Let’s do Salty and Sweet in case you find yourself at a stand still.

2. Do you put on one shoe, tie the laces, and then repeat with the other shoe or do you put both shoes on, and then tie the laces of each shoe?

3. A talking magical cat approaches you, and tells you that you’re the key to saving humanity: do you…?

A). Let the magic kitty give you special powers to become a magical girl but the obligations are highly suspicious.

B). Use the magic kitty to conquer the world but become a villain in which the world will eventually have killed (undefined rule time).

C). Kill it. Burn it with fire or smash it to death, but it needs to go. It will put up a fight.

YAN MY BABYGURL THANK YOU SO MUCH and I am so sorry for the pain and traumas I gave you all through my writing I can't promise that I am gonna stop with it🙈

1. I am a weak hoe for salty things! No, I am not talking about cum (tho that is nice too), but I fucking love chips. Especially with paprika flavour that is very common in my country.

2. EEEHM! I kinda do both! I really needed to think back how I am tying my shoes because this is such an automatic process in my life. But it depends on if I wanna try on the shoe or just going quickly out. If I am in rush then I can be really chaotic who puts the shoes on and ties the laces in the elevator. For trying I finish with one shoe, look in the mirror and then decide to put the other one. Maybe even asking Mr Sun (my husband) for his opinion.

3a) Gimme the powers you magical sweet pussycat.

[1800sprincess]

That first night | pt.1

Putting my car in park and suddenly I didn't know how to breathe. Was I really gonna do this? Sure I enjoy talking to you and I liked you, but it's been 3 years since I've last done anything. I was in a relationship since then and still didn't want to be with them that way. Now suddenly here I am, single thankfully and in the parking lot of possibly the nicest person ever.

I didn't know you were already outside. I grabbed my purse and exited my car, only to see you standing there. Not even 10 feet away. We hugged, mostly to stay warm cause hoes never get cold right? But you were barefoot and I was simply wearing my hoodie and boxers in the cold Texas February. I got upset with you on not wearing shoes outside, or even a shirt under your jacket.

The awkward pleasantries with your roommate, his girlfriend, and their dog. Your cat screaming at me for attention, and me sitting on your bed awkwardly alone. You left to get me a drink. I do wonder though, were you also hyping yourself up? Were you trying so hard to breathe and make sure you don't cry? Or was it just me? Was I only one whose mind raced so much?

What if you thought I was too big? Or you didn't like how I shaved? Did you like my makeup? I only did a little bit compare to my normal stuff. Am I even good at it? It was one person and it has been three years. And I wasn't exactly a willing participant that night. Oh God, what if this is all a joke? Fuck I need to hit my pen.

You came back with this fizzy apple drink, in reality you were gone for a few moments. To me, it was forever. You had the cutest nervous smile. I remember trying to be slick and took my hoodie off for a few seconds. I did it to "shake off the pet hair" which was slightly true. I did want you to see my bra though, it was my cutest one.

We laid down and cuddled. It was nice. Really nice, I've honestly never cuddled someone before. You put on my favorite movie before I made you change it. If this doesn't end well, I don't want to ruin my favorite movie with it. I was honestly ready to fall asleep in your arms. Something about it. Felt so safe.

Then you finally leaned over and made the first move.

[xatkhe]

enc

s see 1ee 33lets3 skeletons and fetid was made for something new - 11 into the future; the future echoes into the past, in dreams and visions and potentiality. searching for what will be in the bones of what was. in january of 2033, the ³3a states 3emilitary dropped a chemical weapon of ee3ese33ese3e3³3333³³33|3W2 ³l uninhabitable in thee long #e³s33³33 in wor the sake of noaaaeaeething3 but themselves, aaand the sescar still oozes. for @/awhitehead

how do u o0en a door? how do you open a door? how do you open a door? how do you open a door? how do you open a door? how do you open a foor? how do you open a door ? how od you open a door? how do you open a door? how do you open a door? how do you open a dior? how do you lpen a door? how do yoi open a door? hoe fo you open a door? how do you open a dood. how do hoi open a door?

1.

I wake up every day with the knowledge that the only truly moral move I have to take is to become a domestic terrorist.

I spent most of my summer sitting in the heat and running moral calculus on whether or not it is okay for me to turn on the air conditioner. I have been thinking endlessly about how electricity consumption is going to boom across the Third World as air conditioning becomes necessary in the next century and beyond and how that is likely to feed itself further and what an American Life means exported to the entire world. I go on walks in the cemetery and I look at the deer and I listen to the immense rumble of the HVAC of the children's hospital echoing against the hills and I wonder which year will be the last one that I see them prance over graves. Everything ahead is survivable if we start acting now, but are we? Will we?

Videos of dead children and knowing that I'm not doing enough and knowing that I'm somehow doing more than most and videos of dead children and videos of dead adults.

The present moment is a test, and we're failing it like we've failed every moment before. Americans are uniquely poisoned in their faith that having the right opinions means literally anything at all. I want movement. Action change dreaming growth, an open door - I have been getting claustrophobic lately, especially when I smoke, even outdoors. I think about the heat and pressure and proximity, crammed into a jail cell or a train car or a bus, unable to escape things touching me, my skin touching my muscles touching my bone, the death of escape.

I don't think I'm supposed to feel this trapped in my own body nearly eight years on HRT.

Is this sustainable? Is this moral? Is this sustainable, is this moral - this mix, this computer, this software, these synthesizers? - I've been wearing shoes with holes in them for over a year and that is certainly my moral OCD personified (christ this entire screed certainly is but man look at where we live and how we live and what is done so that we can do this and tell me we shouldn't all be a little more OCD about our position in the world, for fuck's sake), but the frequency with which I see "you are allowed to want nice things" repeated and sloganized and embodied makes me nauseous with the desperate expanse of absolution it encapsulates. What nice things and how much and to what ends - I am anti-"let people enjoy things" and could write an essay on how vacuous of a statement it is - this laptop was $600; the combined synthesizers, just under a thousand and that's only because I got them all used and one of them for free. Who could that have fed? - who could my fucking tuition (for a bullshit comp sci degree at a rich kid school whose only application is evil military shit or evil finance shit or evil big tech shit) have fed?

I think about every time I told a homeless person that I didn't have any change (which is usually true) instead of taking five minutes to buy them some food from a corner store; doing some vulgar karmatics with all the times I have I think I tend to land net positive, but then I remember, I'm an American, there is blood on my hands, there is blood on your hands, there is blood rising up from the keys that I'm typing on, there is blood pooling at my feet and in the soil and in my veins like so much microplastic, and I think I've started so far in the negative that all I can do is desperately try to crawl my way towards zero.

"Not being bad" is not "being good."

I started believing in hell on Friday and while I can't find room for the idea of eternal damnation within my conception of God, there is plenty in each of us that will need to be burned away before passing on to whatever's next; I have never directly ended the life of a child, but I have not done enough to prevent the infanticide that lies downstream of gas being $3.75 a gallon. Even while I try to balance the debt, I find comfort in awaiting my own accounting.

I think I need to stop smoking and go plant some flowers in the vacant lot on my street. I will not feel good until I see the White House on fire.

A better world is possible but no one else will build it for us or me or you.

2.

I've been thinking lately of entities, objects, concepts, ideas, being not split or located among a binary spectrum between Reality and Fiction, with Lies being located between the two, but instead located within a triangle of Reality, Fiction, and Magic. This has the effect of situating Magic directly opposite Lies, which provides an easy negative definition of Magic. You could, in fact, redraw the triangle as two parallel and exclusive spectrums:

Magic is the thing that is neither exclusively Reality or Fiction, nor is it a Lie. If it is not a Lie, then, it follows that it must be a Truth, but not in the same way that Reality or Fiction are alone. In this parallel configuration, the intermingling of both is considered to not destroy the truth of either but to instead transcend it - much as Lie transcends truth in one sense, Magic transcends it as its opposite.

To return to the triangle: the midpoints between the three poles then become Lies, between Reality and Fiction; Imagination, between Fiction and Magic - that which is emphatically not Reality, but contains some element of reference to its form of truth through connection to Magic; and Faith, between Magic and Reality. Magic can be understood as a derivative of Faith and Imagination just as much as it could be their antecedents. To complete the hex fusion, what lies at the center of Faith, Imagination, and Lies -----?????--------?---?-----? I don't know like God? THE MYSTERY? It feels tryhard to even write this. It seemed less so before I smoked.

I had what I'm choosing to regard as a spiritual experience in April. It lasted maybe three weeks, with a peak of about a week and a sudden, sharp fall off at the end. All of this made even more sense then. Everything made sense, even what didn't, and I felt Possibility and Magic - partial synonyms - more deeply than I ever have before. Desire, above all, was suddenly true - counter to an entire life of constraining myself and what I want within the boundaries of what is expected of me and what is okay to want, the world opened up. My sister gave me a locket with a rabbit engraved on it for Christmas and inside is a bent embroidery needle. I held it and I could see the million potentialities of Mes I could be stretching before me and all of them felt like they could've been real. Life felt worth living for it's own sake, not just out of duty to my loved ones. I woke up happy to be alive. I dreamt of the future. It was nauseating and terrifying and demanded the world of me and I have despaired deeply of ever experiencing it again, and I have come to realize that my inability to identify and name it to anyone but myself - to acceed to its demands - is part of why it left. I hope that when it comes again, I'll be better equipped to shelter it. But it's been a long time, and my apostasy often feels coldly inescapable. I still flinch every time I try to open that door again.

3.

4.

I have no idea how to thread the needle of desire and duty. I do not know where loving yourself ends and wallowing in yourself begins. I do not know where wallowing in yourself ends and autodevotion begins. I do not know where autodevotion ends and devotion to the world begins. I think that there is some degree to which none of these things are fully inextricable from each other - I think that maybe they're mutually supportive - I think that loving other people requires you to first love yourself and that loving yourself first requires you to love other people - I think that my flinching away from desire is downstream of this country and its culture being based on and within puritanism - I think that my flinching away from duty is downstream of this country and its culture being based on and within individualism and atomized pursuit of self-interest at the expense of everything else.

<redacted: like a week.>

5.

there is no future that looks like This. there is no future that looks like industry and consumption and data centers and modernity. ted k was right!!! a mode of government that produces genocide demands its destruction, and a mode of living that produces ecocide demands the same. no amount of solar and wind and wave and nuclear can change the fact that the future WILL NOT and CANNOT be eco-modernism cyberpunk disposable food grown on the other side of the world hi tech extractivism productivism laptops smartphones synthetics streaming virtual reality artificial intelligence gaming vsts graphics cards; the only question is if that'll be because we've built something better or killed ourselves off in the process. i don't want to live in the world where i watch the latter.

6.

i hate this because i want to do nothing but make my music - i played live for the first time last month and it was incredibly wonderful and affirming but is that compatible with Something Better??? is it REALLY?????? no vibes, fuck off - is it really? - is any of this? writing this is the first time i've opened my laptop in like a week and the heat pouring off of it is making me sick. maybe the answer is only hardware but can we square that anti-extractivism??? maybe we just never make synths again - and what i have now is what i have, that's it, forever, if it dies it dies. maybe the music im sitting on right now is the last stuff i ever release. maybe the ephemerality of what i write or perform in the moment is what makes it beautiful. maybe the only writing or art i ever do is pen/cil on paper in notebooks that only ever get shown to whoever asks. maybe, maybe, maybe.

7.

Oh, I want to play. I want to PLAY!!!!!!!!!!! I want to play, I want to dance in my little worlds and fuck in the street and bathe in the cool grass and love reflection again, I want to know myself, I want to feel the divine spark, I want to touch myself and touch my Self and feel how nothing it all is - ! I want, I want, I want. Everything feels real. Nothing feels real. Jokes about the Demiurge are not quite just jokes anymore. The magic will come back, the Frenzy will return, the sister of my soul will speak to me again if I only let myself want her to!!, but!!!; what I also want is, still, the white house in flames, the steps of the capitol bathed in the blood of world-killers, and faith that there will still be a world in five, ten, fifteen years, on the other side of groundwater depletion, topsoil annihilation, 3-then-5-then-8-celcius and the dozen tipping points along the way and the DNC's tools of massacre aimed at the border should anyone come seeking shelter or revenge (either of course more than justified). Always always always always the question is if and how I can get both - does the Revolution need another unstable tranny choosing to lean harder into the glimmers of unreality that dodge at the corner of my vision, words whispered in my ears at the rising and setting horizons of sleep, mirror waiting for me to laugh first? Would dropping in or dropping out be a grain of sand missing from the shore or the straw breaking the back of civilization? Is autolumpenization revolutionary or just bourgeois ideology bubbling up from my veins to keep me from being bored knocking on doors for like PSL or something?? Or are either eclipsing the awful truth that the only people of real courage in the moment are willing to kill and die for a better world most of us don't dare to really really REALLY REALLY REALLY dream of????

I overestimate my own importance for sure - but, well, someone has to.

8.

Risk is necessary - safety is a curse - we are either going to live ourselves to death or die our way to life - AND WE ARE ALL ALREADY DEAD -

life is waiting to be built.

[theloniousbach]

TRIOS AT MEZZROW’S, VOL Who Knows?

ALAN BROADBENT with Harvie S and Billy Mintz, 13 MAY 2024, 9 pm set

JAMALE DAVIS with Mferghu and Anwar Marshall, 14 MAY 2024, 7:30 pm set

The original plan was to see either ALAN BROADBENT or Ari Hoenig in real time Monday night and catch the other on YouTube the next day. Both are reliable favorites, but I chose Broadbent as he not only doesn’t require earphones, he is acceptable in the home. But Hoeing wasn’t there the next day. JAMALE DAVIS is a bassist who soloes using his bow on every tune. He could have fit my non-pianist leader examination (as would have Hoenig), though Broadbent was also part of that as, call it, a control.

He was as expected/needed to be, both reliable and inventive. The book is familiar, though Carl Fischer’s The Wind and The Rain in Your Hair seemed to be new and Gigi Gryce’s Minority, bright and fresh, is pretty new and a treat. Opening with Au Privave and having My Little Suede Shoes as a second Parker later in the set happens often enough. The latter had a Latin feel and was a moment for Billy Mintz, though, with whatever mix of affection and edge, he was called “the dynamic Billy Mintz.” Well, he is dynamic, but only sort of; what he is is minimalist to the point of being Zen like. It’s a treat to see all of them. And on the leadership question, they play in a delicate balance that is altered when Don Falzone fills in for Harvie S or when Roberta Piket is the pianist.

I expected something far more out there from JAMALE DAVIS and he/they pushed a different envelope, but it was all nicely grounded. For example, All The Things You Are backed into the theme after an exploration and Mferghu called it All the Things I Ain’t and I Remember April was slowed down because Davis likes to dig into the changes and “I solo too much.” The feel was of the Mary Lou Williams line and the likes of Monk, Herbie Nichols, Elmo Hope, Sonny Clark. I am not tracing any particular one of them, rather, again, a feel, an approach, a sense of risk and experiment. Mferghu’s work stood out—accomplishing much with a spare touch. Anwar Marshall was crisp and smart as I remember him. Davis’ playing is solid with his “arcolicious” (an audience member’s term) solos being distinctive. And, yet, beyond the piano work, he clearly shaped this overall band approach.

Mferghu had a nice, impressionistic solo piece as Davis excused himself for a moment. Of course that happens, but rarely enough to be surprised, in retrospect, that it doesn’t happen more often. Maybe horn players do step away and we don’t know about it, but if you’re in the rhythm section, it’s noticeable.

[risingsuntaurus]

i stay to myself majority of the time. i don’t have a shoulder i can lean on. Got a few people i’m putting my trust into. I only have me And My Babygirl right now Universe but don’t feel sorry for me.

In reality I get treated like and talked about like a dog.

No help. people abuse me in all Ways. i know people tend to see me not for who i am but for who they want me to be.

Im afraid to Get people close to me. not me getting close to them.

i’m happy for My Birth and The Birth of my daughter. ugh how did i do it? 😇😂

Nobody will never Respect me bc they act like Sour candy…sour sweet then They Gone.

Music is my Defense when i’m Upset or i can feel myself getting angry at the the things i tend to go through on a daily basis here.

As nice as i have been to other people they can’t seem to leave me alone. I had a few hoes lie or come up with a lie just to get to me in some form or fashion.

i became cold hearted

my heart broke when i was 5/6 yrs old

I was abandoned at birth.

i made sure my daughter knew she had me beside her. i made sure she knew she had somebody There for her since i had nobody.

she got herself though my lil soldier 🖤

Hopefully one day i will move on from my scars and pain that i’ve held in

hopefully one day somebody will put themselves in my shoe and try to tie it.

I cant die. i won’t die. i won’t leave.

i won’t Keep letting these demons Come around me saying negative things

God protect me and mine from all harm that may try to come our way.

Universe Lead us safely

may i have my family in a new home in a new whip in a new environment 😇🙌🏾

the fact that people been putting my life in danger way more than i ever could have

the fact that i’m trying to find better and do better and think better and live better with all the trauma i haven’t healed from.

i’m always up waiting for a mfer to tell me some shit ion wanna hear

i’m always wondering how i’m finna better myself for the day and the next

i’m tired of talking to those that really don’t give two pennie’s if i was at my last dollar.

i’m moving on from all the ones who like to disrespect me and think it’s cool

i’m definitely Trying to Find my star 💫

trying to see how i’m really suppose to be living

i’m not a bank so money is a issue.

[bono-aesthetic]

*+:｡.｡𝚁𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂

[𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾. <3]

༊*·˚do not steal, copy, repost or even translate ANY of my work. i don't fuck with plagiarism.

༊*·˚i write and interact with nsfw content 80% of the time, so minors, please don't interact with my blog. don't attack me for 'ruining your innocence' or any shit like that. you think you grown? i am never responsible for what you consume on here.

༊*·˚please be patient if you request anything. i do live a life off tumblr and this a mere hobby for me. do not demand things from me nor rush me. i will ignore you.

༊*·˚please be nice! i write for fun and i want my blog to be a positive space, as small as it might be. have manners when interacting in any way, and I will respond to you with equal mannerisms.

༊*·˚i'm open to any venting but please don't trauma-dump in my askbox. please be aware i'm a stranger on the internet and you're intrusting your deep, personal matters to me. i'm not saying you shouldn't trust me, but i'm saying be mindful of what you share. i am not your therapist, sweetheart but i highly encourage you get the help.

༊*·˚anon hate, threats or any tomfoolery like that will be clowned before being fully ignored. i really won't take you seriously and i will LAUGH at you.

༊*·˚please don't bring any drama in my askbox or anywhere on my blog, especially if it envolves other creators. lovelies, we're here to hoe around and have fun by reading, not drama.

༊*·˚don't spam my inbox please! i would most likely find you annoying and ignore you lol.

༊*·˚no discourse please. like, any at all. i'm not here for things to get messy nor am i here to bring chaos. i will come in clutch if any bullshit arises and i will defend whomever i befriend on here.

༊*·˚i welcome CONSTRUCTIVE criticism but only when i ask for it. don't come here being all rude and expect your opinion to be valued. respect is a two way street, love.

༊*·˚if you have a request, please be specific. i have SUCH a pet peeve for people who don't specify things and expect me to understand everything they mean. a few sentences with enough details (no long paragraphs please) is what i like to see!

༊*·˚please, please, PLEASE reblog if you actually like my work. spam liking doesn't share my work, so reblogs are very much appreciated. :)

Tropes i will NOT write anything forˏˋ°•*⁀➷

incest (inclu. step & pseudo cest), gang bangs, any sort of abuse, bukkake, shotacon/loicon, noncon, scat/piss kink, age regression, necrophilia, vorephilia, ddlg, period sex, charater ships, watersports, race play, wound fucking, high school au! nsfw, amab/male reader, eating disorders, zoophilia, pedophilia, stuckage, knotting, shock play, oc's, fetishes for certain groups of people, m-preg, shoe licking, breath play.

Don't be afraid to ask me if you have any questions! <3

[flmer-archives]

ıllı﹒ track #1 ıllı﹒

SANRIO GIRL

by; b.k.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you grab your white leg warmers and put them on top of the thigh-high white socks, layering them on top. your eyes scanned around the room- looking for your black Maryjane shoes and when your eyes finally spotted them you made sure to quickly grab them and after putting them on you immediately went in front of your mirror to check out how you look and deeming the fit perfect, you were about to go and walk towards the door of your room when suddenly your flip phone started to ring

'RINGGG!!' looking at the caller and seeing your friend's name you immediately picked it up without hesitation.

📞—

'hey girly, are ya ready to go now? I've been outside your house for like- I don't know, maybe hoursss?' the high-pitched voice of your friend rang in your ears, you can also practically hear her chewing gum.

'well I gotta make sure I look cute! we're going to a live concert of pretty boys and I wanna make sure I at least make one of 'em stare at me! and also stop chewing gum so loud you hoe. I can practically hear your teeth clashing against each other through the phone.' you said with a cheery voice at the start of your sentence but grumbled at the end of the words you said under your breath.

'okay boo, whatever you say and you always look cute with whatever you wear so don't worry about your fit and get yo ass out already!' your friend softly yelled at you as you looked out your window and as you predicted- there she was waving her hands in the air frantically with her holding her phone on one of her hands.

'okay, okay, fine. I'm gonna go out the door now so wait for me.' —☎️

you took her humming as a response and ended the call as you rushed down the stairs of your house and quickly opened and shut your door closed, not forgetting to lock it of course.

"ayeee! you looking real cute girly!" your friend said as she whistled exaggeratingly "I know I do." you covered your mouth as you let out a muffled chuckle and quickly got on the passenger seat next to your friend, adjusting your sitting position to be a little bit more comfy

"soo... you got all dressed up to get that emo guy's attention, huh?" your friend's eyebrows moved up and down as she looked at you with a smirk and a teasing look in her eyes "So what If I am? The guy looks really cute and not to mention his personality" you said with a dreamy tone and a sigh

"do you think I have a chance to score a date? Bill isn't really known as the type of guy to go out on dates with random girls.." the car started moving forward as you check if you're safely buckled in, which you are.

"Well hon, I'm gonna be honest with you. It'll be a 50/50." your friend made a sharp turn as your body moved sideways "Why do you think so?" you asked as your brows furrowed together.

"the guy might not be into people with cutesy styles and there's also a possible chance that he'll like you because you're cute, not to mention your personality that I wouldn't call nice or bad." your friend was now currently chewing on a new gum annoyingly.

"I just hope he'll spare a glance at me and that's enough to let me know that my outfit is eye-catching" you sighed as you look out the car windows, your ears getting filled with the rock music currently being blasted on the car speaker.

——

the both of you finally arrived at the concert and boy were there a lot of people all packed in one area. your eyes wander around the area and one thing for sure that you noticed was that most girls were practically wearing revealing clothes- and you don't mean short skirts or clothes like that, their tits can practically be seen through the fabric.

"Isn't sexual harassment a common thing that happens at concerts..?" you asked as your eyebrows furrowed the more you scanned each of the girl's outfits- I mean not that it wasn't fashionable! each of the girl's outfits looks really pretty and they pulled it off but you were worried for their safety, even though it's none of your business but still. 

"well, most people here are girls and I'm pretty sure the security here is strict." your friend replied as she shrugged her shoulder and munched on a energy bar "want some?" she offered but before you could say yes all the lights suddenly turned off and there was the sound of loud drums coming from the stage, smoke suddenly coming out of said stage and on cue, the girls around you started screaming and squealing like pigs on slaughter and honestly you can't blame them since you're literally too stunned to react.

holy shit are these boy band members so pretty.

your mouth was slightly opened and your friend was practically shaking you while screaming for the band guitarist's name but you were too focused on their singer. he looks so majestic. his beauty stunned you.

the said singer- bill, felt the pair of awestruck eyes on him and he couldn't help but look at where it was coming from and oh boy was he glad. his eyes made contact with yours and it felt as if something sparked at that moment- you were stunned by the male that was standing only a few feet apart from you, he was star strucked by you.

bill never saw someone look so adorable yet so cool at the same time and judging by your outfit and looks, you look like you're a nice person and he hopes you really are because he'll be very disappointed if he finds out you have the personality similar to a bratty child.

he continued singing but his gaze was solely fixed on you and only you.

he hopes that you won't mind hanging out with him for a few minutes after the concert.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[dkookoo-fu]

The only hypebeasts that deserve rights

(YCs hat is based on shriftyshoppings rip grandma hat)

Bonus (like always):

[hederasgarden]

Operation Elevator

Summary: Claire plays matchmaker when she realizes Six need a little help wooing their new neighbor. Pairing: Sierra Six x F!Reader Word Count: 780 Rating: Gen. Claire being sneaky, humor, brief mention of a panic attack and being trapped in a small space. A/N: This is stupid and silly but I needed to write something goofy and fun. Thank you @hoe-on-the-range for beta’ing, @whatblogisthis216 for holding my hand while I wrote this and @a-reader-and-a-writer for her help as well.

It takes 50 dollars and an overpriced pineapple upside-down cake from the bougie bakery on 6th street to convince the super of the apartment building to agree to Claire’s scheme. As plans went, it was pretty simple. Trap you and Six in the elevator long enough to get you talking and realize you liked one another. The hardest part was getting the timing right because Six liked his routine and you apparently worked from home.

Claire knew you liked Six. It was obviously from the way you stammered and babbled anytime you saw him. Whenever she ran into you alone you were normal, chatting to her about school or the weather, but if Six was there your voice got all high pitched and you gestured weirdly. You also brought them welcome cookies, for god’s sake. No one did that – especially not in New York City. Six was even more awkwardly robotic than normal with you but Claire saw the way he stared at you whenever he ran into you in the lobby. She also caught him on your Instagram page a couple of times which was sloppy for a spy. Civilian life was clearly making him soft but that was fine by Claire, it made her plan easier to pull off.

What Claire doesn’t count on is you having a full-blown panic attack when the elevator screeches to a halt or the way Six seems to blue screen for a full minute before he jumps into action. Thankfully the super is distracted enough by his fourth slice of pineapple upside-down cake that he doesn’t notice what’s happening on the security camera. Claire feels a little bad about that part but after a few minutes, Six has you calm again. There’s no audio but whatever he says makes you smile and he hesitantly reaches up to touch the side of your face. You’ve still got a hold of the front of his shirt and for a hot second, Claire thinks you might kiss but then Six looks away and you duck your head, staring at your shoes.

Claire huffs, annoyed. Apparently, he was only a man of action when bullets were flying or lives were in danger. But that’s fine, Claire has contingencies. Six taught her that much.

“I don’t know how, but I know you were involved,” Six tells her later that night, in the middle of their weekly movie night.

“Listen,” Claire starts, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth and chewing loudly enough to make Six’s eye twitch a little. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but if I did, you should probably know you sent her some very nice flowers and invited her out for coffee tomorrow, mkay?”

“Claire,” he says, sounding so put out she rolls her eyes at him and pauses the movie.

“Oh my god, you’re literally killing me here. It’s bad enough you low key internet stalk her, but then you liked a photo of hers from over a year ago. It’s embarrassing, Six! She clearly likes you. What’s the hold up?”

“First, it’s not stalking, it’s called doing recon on our neighbors.”

“Sure,” Claire says. “I didn’t see you doing a deep dive on Mr. Anderson in 3B’s instagram account.”

“Mr. Anderson lives in 4B, Claire.”

“Whatever,” she says, waving him off. “You’re meeting her tomorrow at 2pm. Try to be charming and don’t be weird. She seems cool.” Six sighs and rubs his temples, something unexpected flickering in his eyes. “Wait, are you actually nervous?” Claire asks, sitting up straighter.

“No,” he replies too quickly. “Though it’s possible I am mildly concerned this will go poorly.”

“Listen, you were a CIA super spy. You can handle one date with our neighbor. I believe in you,” she says, punching his arm.

“Your confidence in me is inspiring,” Six deadpans.

“Cool. Can we get back to the movie or do you want to talk more about your feelings?” She asks, grinning when he sighs heavily and turns his attention back to the TV.

The next day, Claire can’t be sure exactly how the coffee date goes, but when she catches Six sneaking in after 1am she has a pretty good idea.

“I hope you were safe,” she says, flipping on the light. The only sign she’s caught him by surprise is the way his hand automatically moves towards his hip. Ha. Some super spy.

“Claire…”

“Yeah yeah. I know. It’s past my bedtime. You’re welcome by the way,” she calls out over her shoulder as she heads back down the hall to her bedroom.

A few seconds pass before she hears him speak again, his voice is quiet but clear. “Thank you, Claire.”

✥

Taglist: @butaneandthebeast @phoenixhalliwell @andromacher @medievalfangirl @minilpark @bittergomez @writercole @icaruswillrise747 @the-whitegirl-is-back @wildbornsiren @a-reader-and-a-writerl @blue-aconite @Olivia21blunt @c4relesswhisperr @leafyplantdaddy

Join my tag list click here.

[unwantedtomost]

it had been months — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 4,401 words

summery: it had been nine months since you and your first real long term boyfriend broke up. but as they say, time makes the heart grow fonder ... and it also made the lust build up.

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, cheating, kind of a breeding kink at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

a/n: i have never actually posted a whole thing on here before, so i hope this goes well. i know my writing can improve, but it’s pretty good i would say. enjoy!

It had been months since you had broken up with your long-term boyfriend. Your first long-term boyfriend you had since you arrived to the Hollywood scene. Nine months, to be exact. The same amount of time it would have been to carry a child. A hypothetical child. The same hypothetical child that ruined your relationship in the first place.

“You don’t want kids?” Sebastian questioned as soon as you entered the shared apartment. The topic of children came up at dinner with your shared friends. You, offhandedly said: “God, no,” with a laugh, not giving it a second thought. Not till now.

“Not really,” you said as you unzipped your heeled boots. “I never really have, not since I was younger.”

“Never?” He asked, heart starting to beat heavier.

You looked up to him, concerned when you saw his face. It was the same face he had on every time you guys got in a face, mixed with disappointment, maybe even hurt. You smiled, trying to lighten the situation.

“Maybe not never,” you said, putting your shoes away. “But not at least for ten years, maybe even longer. I mean, I am only twenty-two. I would like a good life without children before bringing them into the mix.”

Your warm smile and calm demeanor did nothing to elevate the tension, something inside you saying it did the exact opposite. He looked serious and upset, a combination you never saw much.

“In ten years I’ll be almost fifty,” Sebastian states.

“So? Guys never really stop shooting out good rounds. All my parts will still be intact by that time too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?” You were confused. Why was he acting like this?

“I shouldn’t be old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”

Anger started to bubble up as well. This tone that he had made you pissed off. He was talking like you were stupid like you didn’t get what he was saying. The brassiness you had in general not helping your temper.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating someone sixteen years younger than you,” you shot back.

Then the yelling started. Something that could have been a deep, meaningful conversation (one that frankly should have been had way before this point) turned into a full-blown fight. You both started going in at each other, picking at old scabs that you knew would hurt. That was the point, after all, you just wanted to hurt each other. Because you were mad and upset, you guessed, but by the end of it, you weren’t even sure.

The fighting ended two hours later, you sat, slumped on the couch, huffing. You tried to catch your breath from all the yelling. Your throat was hoarse, your cheeks sticky from dried tears.

“It seems like we’re not gonna work out then,” you said, numb.

“Seems so.”

And you left that night, grabbing nothing but your phone before making your way to your closest friend’s house.

After that, you cried for two months straight. You really thought that Sebastian was endgame. That you would be together forever. That you would be happy. Ever since you caught sight of him at your first audition, you felt that he was the one. Then the universe laughed maniacally as it showed you just how fucking wrong you were.

In the past nine months, you had seen him approximately sixteen times, most being in passing, a few being at parties, and one time being at a coffee shop that you both loved. You started to frequent it less after the breakup, too scared to bump into him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing. The day you two saw each other was both of your first times in three months.

It was all stupid small talk until it wavered, forced laughs and fake smiles fading as the reality of the situation simmered in.

“Look, y/n—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You simply couldn’t. “It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. I hope you have a good life.” You took a few steps before turning back around for a moment. He looked at you like he was expecting you to run into his arms and make everything go back to normal. “And I really hope you meet a girl that can give you what you need.”

He tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t let him. You simply walked away and left him, alone. That was the last time you had spoken to him.

It was five months after the breakup until you let your friends talk you into going out again. And that night you had run into none other than the Timothee Chalamet. Numbers were exchanged then the next thing you knew, you were naked in his hotel room. After that, you went through a bit of a “hoe stage.” Every two weeks you were on a cover of TMZ, E!, or any other celebrity gossip magazine that existed with a “possible new thing.” The people ranged from Tom Holland to Madison Beer, and no one knew what was true or not. After the first few batches came out, you stopped giving a shit. You were allowed to rebound with whomever or however you wanted to, and you were taking full advantage of that.

You were so busy juggling so many people that you hadn’t even thought about Sebastian. Not till right now. Your eyes catch his from across the ballroom that you’re currently in. Your pulse quickens rapidly, you feel like you might even faint. If it wasn’t for Timothee’s hand on your waist, you were sure you would have collapsed on the spot. You watched as Sebastian’s jaw clenched just like it did whenever you did something he disapproved of. Just like it did every time he gave into himself and read one of those stupid gossip sights and saw you all over whatever arm candy you had chosen for the week.

“I’ll be right back, okay babe?” Timothee said, kissing you on the cheek. He waited for you to nod before making his way to one of his friends.

You don’t know what to do and those beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with all that time ago refuse to leave yours. You feel like you want to cry, or scream, or throw up, but you know that you shouldn’t actually do any of those things. You’d draw attention and you don’t want any more people talking about you.

Luckily, one of your best friends, Elizabeth, pulls you into a tight hug and brings you back to earth. Her body feels warm and it makes you feel safe, the smell of her strawberry shampoo bringing you comfort.

“I know,” she said before you spoke. “I saw. Are you okay? I’ll leave with you right now if you want to.”

It takes you a minute to process everything, and even though you’re running everything through your mind, nothing really sinks in.

“I’ll be fine,” you say with conviction, though you don’t know if it’s true at all. “Leaving wouldn’t accomplish anything.” You stop talking for a minute before smiling at Elizabeth. “Now, let’s go give the people what they want and take some pictures together.”

It had been two hours and the event was finally coming to a close. No more than forty-five minutes and the place would be cleared out. With that knowledge, you went to go take advantage of the free bar stocked up with expensive liquor. After schmoozing with people you did not even want to interact with, you deserve it.

“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke, please,” you say to the rather cute bartender, shoulders slumping.

As soon as the two shot glasses were in front of you, you downed them. It burned like hell and you could only imagine the ungodly face you made. You tried to chase it with the rum and coke, but it didn’t help much. You heard a gruff voice beside you order something, one that was very familiar. When you heard a chuckle, you knew for sure who was right next to you. You froze again, that same dizzy, sick feeling coming back. You turned your head slowly to see those big blue eyes for the second time tonight, your heart surely beating loud enough that anyone in a mile radius could hear it.

“You look beautiful tonight, y/n,” Sebastian said, leaning against the bar, facing you.

“You do too,” you blurt out. Face turning red after you realized that you’re fucking stupid. “I mean, you look—shit. You look very nice, Seb—Sebastian.”

You’re so flustered and red, you want to simply sink into the floor. For a moment, you wonder why he isn’t acting the same way. It could be that he had already had some to drink or maybe he was just better at controlling his emotion. And the thought that makes dread flow through you is that maybe he is just over you.

“Are you going to an after-party?” He asks, sipping from his glass.

“I don’t think so,” you say. You were supposed to go to one with Timothee, where you were finally going to announce that you two had become official, but now you just want to go home. “Are you?”

“Probably not,” he said simply. “I’ll just have a few more of these back home and go to bed.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” you say, hinting. You know what you are trying to get across but you don’t know why. It’s like your mouth was moving before your brain could understand what you were doing.

“It’s not ideal,” he said. “But I really don’t have a date to drink with, unlike you.” He pointed towards Timothee talking to a director you hastily met.

“He’s not my date,” you shot out. “I mean, he is, but we’re not like, dating.” Why the fuck are you talking!?!?

“It’s none of my business,” Sebastian said. He didn’t sound mean, he sounded like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know … but we’re not … if you were wondering.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your elbow. “It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

He turned to start walking away but you called after him, making him turn back around. “Wait!” Once he was facing you, you felt like you were in a movie. “I could go for a drink.”

Sebastian smiled but his eyes dismissed you. “What are you doing, sugar?” He warned.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “But don’t shut me down.”

With a shared smile, he took your hand and you both left the party. On the car ride back to his apartment (that used to be your apartment), you thought briefly about how you would explain this to Timothee in the morning. Then you turned off your phone so you didn’t have to feel guilty if he decided to text you. Neither of you spoke much on the way. His hand never left its place on your thigh before you were finally there.

When he opened the door, you stumbled lightly into the apartment. Sebastian caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He lightly sat you down on the chair by the entrance (the same one you had sat at nine months ago). Once he had closed the door and put his things down, he came back to you to help slip off your heels.

“Are you already drunk?” He chuckled.

“No, just a wee bit tipsy.”

“Your ‘wee bit’ is usually a lotta bit.”

“Not this time, I really mean just a wee wee bit.” You suddenly burst out laughing at the fact you just said wee wee, giving away the fact that you are indeed close to being drunk.

“Maybe you don’t need anymore to drink,” Sebastian said.

“C’mon, Sebby, take that stick out of your ass,” you say, making him laugh. It makes you feel lighter like you weren’t fucking shit up again. Like you weren’t making a mistake you would regret in the morning. 

You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, pouring both of you a glass of red wine. Your favorite and most expensive red wine, the one that you had left at the apartment after the breakup. You wondered if it was the same bottle, or if he had done the same thing he was doing with you with another girl. When he came back, he handed you the glass which you placed down on the coffee table, realizing you were still in a designer white dress that you didn’t own.

“Shit,” you muttered after your realization.

“What is it?”

“This isn’t my dress.”

His eyes wandered down your figure as he thought. “You can take that off and I can hang it up for you. I’m sure there’s something here you can wear.”

You nodded before he was walking towards the bedroom, the one you once shared. You followed after him through the small hall. You looked around the room, noticing how boring it looked now. None of your decorations you had were up anymore, but the small mural you once painted in the middle of the night was still in full view. Did he think about you every time he saw it? If he did, why didn’t he just paint over it? 

Sebastian placed one of his shirts (that was your favorite one to wear) and a pair of shorts you had thought you lost on the bed.

“Well, you can get changed in here,” he stated before going for the door.

“Actually,” you called out, stopping him from leaving. “Can you unzip me please?”

He paused for a moment before nodding, slowly making his way back to you. The room went silent as he softly collected your hair and moved it to one side. Heat started to rise through your body at the close proximity he held. His hands grazed your shoulders momentarily before he steadily unzipped the expensive dress. You caught his eyes in the mirror in front of you, your cheeks immediately burning red. He finished unzipping the dress before helping you slide it off your arms. You had to cover your breasts with your arm since you hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body before, he knew his way around there better than you did, but not covering yourself just felt inappropriate. But, to be fair, the entire situation felt inappropriate. The dress fell to a pool around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lace black underwear, ones that Sebastian had bought for you one month before you broke up. You stepped out of the dress, eyes never leaving his. He bent down to pick it up, blue orbs never leaving your eyes.

“I’ll go lay this on the guest bed,” Sebastian said plainly before leaving the room and closing the door.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you let your arm fall. Even though you hadn’t even had a conversation with Sebastian in six months, being in that moment felt more intimate than anytime you had sex with Timothee—or anyone, for that matter. You pulled on the worn-out gray tee shirt that vaguely had ‘Coca-Cola’ printed across it before going out to the living room where you found Sebastian sipping on his wine, now dress in an old tee and grey sweatpants.

The next hour felt like a blur, it was filled with giggles and stupid comments. By the end of it, the wine bottle was empty and you two were officially wine drunk. Now, you were slumped on the couch (the one that you picked out), leaning towards Sebastian, hand dancing along the cushion space between you two.

“Have you realized we never had a goodbye?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting his guess to what you were talking about to be right.

“I mean, we had a fight and I left then we were done. There were no ‘this is for the best’ speeches or attempts at a goodbye kiss. One day there was an us and the next it was … nothing.” You looked up at him, an innocent yet quizzical look on your soft features.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” he said.

Not this shit again. “I know,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about anything. We’re not together anymore. We don’t even need to acknowledge each other’s existence anymore. But tonight, you did, and now we’re on your couch.”

“I don’t—” he started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“We don’t have to talk about it then. But, I do have another question. Did you ever fuck anyone here?” The words flowed out before you could think any longer, nothing but courage and alcohol running through your body.

“What?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, Sebastian. I just want to know if you ever fucked someone in my—our—this place.”

His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice sharp and clear. “No, y/n, I have never fucked anyone in this place. No one but you.”

That answer made you happy. This place, your place, was still pure. No random hookups had tramped through the place where you lived.

“Good,” you accidentally said out loud, making him upset.

“Why does it even matter? It’s not like you weren’t fucking those young things you were all over in public.” He started to get angry at the thought. “Who are you to question me about my sex life after you broke up with me then pranced around tabloid covers for months with different people each week?”

“Because this was our house, I just want to know it wasn’t tainted by blonde bitches with names you didn’t even remember in the fucking morning.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only blonde bitch I’ve fucked.”

Suddenly, your hand was moving and your palm was connecting with his face. It shocked both of you, making you both freeze in place. It took ten seconds before Sebastian grabbed the wrist you hit him with, yanking it so you were closer to him. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

“Slap me again and see what fucking happens, I dare you,” he spit out.

Then your heart was in your ass as your stomach erupted with butterflies and your panties soaked with arousal.

It was almost like you lost all control over your body as you smashed your lips against his. Your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and tugging at the hair there. The intentional scruff on his face was harsh against your smooth skin, but it only elevated your pleasure. Sebastian’s hands went around the sides of your neck, one kind of cupping your face while the other was closer to the back to pull you closer. You felt like you needed to get closer to him, get as close as possible. You needed every single inch of him over every single part of yourself. Your leg swung, straddling him.

Without thinking, you rutted yourself against his thigh, a guttural moan coming from your lips as you did. It’s not like you hadn’t been touched in a while, you just got fucked a few days ago, but you hadn’t experienced something as hot as this in so long. It was rushed and needed, you felt like you would die if he stopped. Your hips absent-mindedly grinded down against his thigh again.

“Fuck, ride my thigh baby,” he ordered. You listened, slipping into your old ways. You continued to rut against his thigh as you kissed. He knew you were getting close by the moans you were letting out into the kiss. He pulled away from your lips, watching as you were losing yourself. “I want you to cum for me, sugar.”

Your hips slowed as your mind raced a mile a minute. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum from just his thigh. What would that do to his already inflated ego? It sounded like bullshit to give into him.

“No,” you mumbled out, your hips threatening to halt their movement.

“No?” He repeated.

You sat there for a minute, silent as his eyes frantically studied your face to see what the point was. He wondered if you wanted to stop, he would understand completely, but he knew that wasn’t what it was by the way you keep clenching your thighs together. Sebastian smirked as he realized what was really happening. He grabbed your hips and started to push you down on his thigh. The problem was that you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to cum for him. Too bad he was determined on it.

You moaned loudly as he started to drag your hips. You were inching so close, the fact that you didn’t want to give in to the feeling made it feel like it was only becoming stronger. Your hands grabbed his old t-shirt as you frantically moved your hips back and forth. Your nose scrunched and your eyes shut tight, your mouth letting out a whisper of “oh fuck”s on a loop.

“That’s it,” you heard Sebastian say even though his voice sounded like it was miles away. “Cum like a good girl.”

Suddenly, all the pressure that was building up deep within your tummy snapped and you were on cloud 9. Your heat pulsed as you road out your orgasm, Sebastian's hands helping you immensely. It took a good minute of pants as you caught your breath before you opened your eyes and came back to reality.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you muttered to him when you finally made eye contact again.

“I know,” he smirked. “Now be a good girl, sugar, and take off your pants.”

You questioned arguing with him more, but you decided not to. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad. You stood up and pulled down your shorts, doing a little spin so Sebastian could marvel at how wonderful you looked.

“As beautiful as those look on you, darling, they’d look better on the floor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you stripped out of the underwear as well, leaving you in nothing but an old grey t-shirt. You went back to your place on Sebastian’s lap, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. You felt like you were melting into him entirely as everything snapped back into place. Your hands roamed lower, palming him through his grey sweats. You smirked to yourself at the realization of how hard he was already and at the fact he wasn’t wearing boxers. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his pants. Just as you were getting ready to place his member in the place you wanted him the most, he halts your movement by grabbing your wrist.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom, y/n,” he warned. You frowned, upset that he had stopped you.

“I don’t care.”

“But you still have that IUD in, right?”

You grimaced because no, you did not. Your five years had run out two months ago and you hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment for a new one. You shook your head slowly side to side before he sighed. He went to pull you off of him but you stopped him by holding onto his shoulders

“I don’t care,” you repeated.

“Y/n, you know why can’t.”

“Why not?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Besides the fact you could get pregnant?”

“I don’t care,” you said one more time. “I want you.”

He looked into your eyes, trying his best to decipher your intentions.

“Y/n …”

“Get me pregnant, Sebby,” you said, meaning it too. “I want you, I want your kids. Fuck, I want us back. I don’t care if that means kids and a white picket fence. I just want you.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, you slowly leaned down and your lips touched. It was nothing like the kisses you had shared preferably, it was slow and soft. He pulled you closer, finally letting you lower yourself down on him. You both let out loud moans as you sink down on his member.

It was like you had forgotten what making love felt like, probably because you did. In the past nine months since you had split, you hadn’t made love with anyone once. It was all just meaningless sex or hot fucking, but there was no love behind it. You didn’t love Timothee, you hadn’t loved any of your flings. Maybe it was because you never stopped loving Sebastian—you were almost sure it was because of that.

You moved up and down whilst Sebastian thrust up into you. The room was filled with moans, grunts, and praises from both ends. He started to kiss your neck as his thumb started to rub your clit. The multiple amounts of stimulation only brought you closer to your climax.

“I’m gonna, fuck—I’m close.”

“I know, babygirl,” he cooed. “Look at me.” You looked into his blue orbs, feeling your climax inching ever so closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined out as your hips moved faster. “Cum inside me, Sebastian. Get me—fuck, god—put a fucking baby in me.”

With your confirmation, he flipped you on your back, thrusting harder. The hand that wasn’t toying with your clit interlaced with yours. Your grip on each other squeezed harder as you neared your finishes. You wrapped your legs around him as his hips started to stutter.

“Cum with me, baby,” Sebastian groaned.

You finally let the coil that built inside of you snap with his permission. Moments later, he busted inside of you, making you both yell out. He collapsed on top of you, trying his best not to crush you under his weight. You both panted for minutes before you finally spoke up.

“I love you,” you said. He lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “I never stopped.

“Neither did I,” Sebastian said. “Did you mean it, you want to have kids?”

“I want to do anything if it means I can be with you. Anything.”