#(also yes ideally it WILL get replaced)

[thefluxsystem]

pro tip: wanting to demedicalize mental health & neurodivergence doesn’t mean “disregard science entirely”

[lets-steal-an-archive]

By Bernie Sanders | July 13, 2024

I will do all that I can to see that President Biden is re-elected. Why? Despite my disagreements with him on particular issues, he has been the most effective president in the modern history of our country and is the strongest candidate to defeat Donald Trump — a demagogue and pathological liar. It’s time to learn a lesson from the progressive and centrist forces in France who, despite profound political differences, came together this week to soundly defeat right-wing extremism.

I strongly disagree with Mr. Biden on the question of U.S. support for Israel’s horrific war against the Palestinian people. The United States should not provide Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government with another nickel as it continues to create one of the worst humanitarian disasters in modern history.

I strongly disagree with the president’s belief that the Affordable Care Act, as useful as it has been, will ever address America’s health care crisis. Our health care system is broken, dysfunctional and wildly expensive and needs to be replaced with a “Medicare for all” single-payer system. Health care is a human right.

And those are not my only disagreements with Mr. Biden.

But for over two weeks now, the corporate media has obsessively focused on the June presidential debate and the cognitive capabilities of a man who has, perhaps, the most difficult and stressful job in the world. The media has frantically searched for every living human being who no longer supports the president or any neurologist who wants to appear on TV. Unfortunately, too many Democrats have joined that circular firing squad.

Yes. I know: Mr. Biden is old, is prone to gaffes, walks stiffly and had a disastrous debate with Mr. Trump. But this I also know: A presidential election is not an entertainment contest. It does not begin or end with a 90-minute debate.

Enough! Mr. Biden may not be the ideal candidate, but he will be the candidate and should be the candidate. And with an effective campaign taht speaks to the needs of working families, he will not only defeat Mr. Trump but beat him badly. It’s time for Democrats to stop the bickering and nit-picking.

I understand that some Democrats get nervous about having to explain the president’s gaffes and misspeaking names. But unlike the Republicans, they do not have to explain away a candidate who now has 34 felony convictions and faces charges that could lead to dozens of additional convictions, who has been hit with a $5 million judgment after he was found liable in a sexual abuse case, who has been involved in more than 4,000 lawsuits, who has repeatedly gone bankrupt and who has told thousands of documented lies and falsehoods.

Supporters of Mr. Biden can speak proudly about a good and decent Democratic president with a record of real accomplishment. The Biden administration, as a result of the American Rescue Plan, helped rebuild the economy during the pandemic far faster than economists thought possible. At a time when people were terrified about the future, the president and those of us who supported him in Congress put Americans back to work, provided cash benefits to desperate parents and protected small businesses, hospitals, schools and child care centers.

After decades of talk about our crumbling roads, bridges and water systems, we put more money into rebuilding America’s infrastructure than ever before — which is projected to create millions of well-paying jobs. And we did not stop there. We made the largest-ever investment in climate action to save the planet. We canceled student debt for nearly five million financially strapped Americans. We cut prices for insulin and asthma inhalers, capped out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs and got free vaccines to the American people. We battled to defend women’s rights in the face of moves by Trump-appointed jurists to roll back reproductive freedom and deny women the right to control their own bodies.

So, yes, Mr. Biden has a record to run on. A strong record. But he and his supporters should never suggest that what’s been accomplished is sufficient. To win the election, the president must do more than just defend his excellent record. He needs to propose and fight for a bold agenda that speaks to the needs of the vast majority of our people — the working families of this country, the people who have been left behind for far too long.

At a time when the billionaires have never had it so good and when the United States is experiencing virtually unprecedented income and wealth inequality, over 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, real weekly wages for the average worker have not risen in over 50 years, 25 percent of seniors live each year on $15,000 or less, we have a higher rate of childhood poverty than almost any other major country, and housing is becoming more and more unaffordable — among other crises.

This is the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We can do better. We must do better. Joe Biden knows that. Donald Trump does not. Joe Biden wants to tax the rich so that we can fund the needs of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. Donald Trump wants to cut taxes for the billionaire class. Joe Biden wants to expand Social Security benefits. Donald Trump and his friends want to weaken Social Security. Joe Biden wants to make it easier for workers to form unions and collectively bargain for better wages and benefits. Donald Trump wants to let multinational corporations get away with exploiting workers and ripping off consumers. Joe Biden respects democracy. Donald Trump attacks it.

This election offers a stark choice on issue after issue. If Mr. Biden and his supporters focus on these issues — and refuse to be divided and distracted — the president will rally working families to his side in the industrial Midwest swing states and elsewhere and win the November election. And let me say this as emphatically as I can: For the sake of our kids and future generations, he must win.

Bernie Sanders is the senior senator from Vermont.

[mercwithadilf]

Home

Sirius Black x Potter!reader

Summary: Sirius runs away from ‘home’ having finally suffered enough of his parents’ ideals and behaviours. The only place he can really call home is with his best friend, James Potter. Wherever James is, you are too.

This is my first fic after a really long time but I'm really excited to get back on my writing journey! Writing for Sirius Black is mainly because of my absolute love for Ben Barnes so I hope you enjoy!! <3

‘Mum! Godric- James if I catch you looking through my stuff again, it’s your head!’ You chase after James who somehow manages to not only sneak into your room, but also find and run away with the hoodie you forgot to give Sirius back after a night of Quidditch practice.

James pauses in front of you causing you to almost run straight into him and holds up the hoodie with a wide, shit-eating grin. 

‘And why, dear sister, do you have my best mate’s hoodie in your closet?’

You roll your eyes at his annoying, but also very usual antics. ‘Because, dear brother, your best mate gave it to me after I was freezing to death during the Quidditch practice you so thoughtfully stretched out until the dead of night. I simply forgot to give it back before Christmas break! Now give it back!’ 

You jump up to grab the hoodie back from James which he oh so kindly pulled out of your reach. Euphemia took the hoodie away from James’s hands and gave it to you. 

‘Let your sister fawn over the hoodie Sirius gave her in peace, James.’ James smirks at you as your mother chuckles at both of you. 

You stare at her in disbelief and scoff. ‘Seriously, mum! James is being a twat –’

‘Language!’ You hear Fleamont yell from downstairs.

‘– and I get humiliated! Unbelievable! Why don’t you tell mum about Lily, Jamesy?’ You flash your brother the same grin he shot you a mere few seconds ago.

You watch his eyes go wide as your mother pauses her movements and turns to him, ‘Are you still chasing that girl, James? I told you, girls don’t like stalkers.’

James playfully glares at you and turns to you mother, ‘She actually gave me a chance, mother dearest. And I said yes!’ He grins.

You look at him with the most unimpressed look you could fathom and both your mother and James catch up on it, which causes your mother to mirror that look. ‘Okay fine, she said yes, happy?’

‘Very actually.’ He sticks his tongue out at you and you reciprocate the gesture.

Your father’s footsteps emerge up the steps as he walks past you both, ruffling your heads. ‘Everyone to bed or else Santa won’t bring any presents down the chimney for tomorrow morning!’

‘He’s talking to you, Jamesy!’ You sing-song.

‘You wish, sister!’

Everyone heads to their rooms with a final goodnight, you settling in your bed with the comfort of the sounds of the rain and Sirius’s hoodie warming you and lulling you into sleep.

James jolts up from his sleep at the violent bangs of knocks coming from downstairs. In a rushed daze, he scrambles to put his glasses on and grabs his wand. He clutches it tightly, knuckles turning white as he sneaks downstairs, ready to attack whoever decided to disturb the peace at four in the morning. 

He looks through the peep-hole, adjusting his sight to the figure standing outside. As his vision adjusts, he begins to panic.

‘What the fuck?’ James opens the door. ‘Pads?’

Sirius spins to look at him, eyes wide, lips quivering from the cold as he engulfs his figure in his robe. A bag is slung against his shoulder, the boy looking too weak to even carry it properly.

James could tell the streaks on his best friend’s face were from tears that were being washed away by the constant, harsh droplets of rain.

They were both too stunned to even speak.

‘Prongs –’

‘Get in. Now.’ 

James grabs Sirius by his shoulders and leads him inside, taking his bag from him as if it was weighing him down a ton and a half. He helps Sirius take the robe off and replaces it with a warm, fuzzy Christmas blanket as he leads him to the couch.

You huff while sitting up, expecting James to have gone downstairs to get a very early head start on the presents. You walk out of your room and storm downstairs ready to tell him off until you’re stopped in your tracks by the site in front of you.

‘Sirius?’ Your voice wavers.

Both boys situated on the couch turn to look at you. ‘Y/n.’ You wouldn’t have been able to hear Sirius’s voice if it wasn’t for the complete dead silence in the house.

You rush down the rest of the stairs and sit on the floor right in front of Sirius, your hand on his knee to reassure him of your presence.

You glance at your brother for an explanation, but he only shakes his head at you with a frown. You take that as a hint that Sirius hasn’t said anything and to not rush him.

Sirius’s eyes trail over your figure as you sit in front of him. He notices the hoodie you’re wearing was the one he kept looking for, however finding it on you softened the edges of his heart.

James notices Sirius’s eyes on you and smiles softly, despite the situation they’re in right now. ‘I’ll get you a cup of hot choco, yeah?’ James offers Sirius which he responds to with a grateful nod and an attempt of a smile. James gets up and walks to the kitchen while you stay with Sirius.

You look up at him with a reassuring, gentle smile. ‘You can talk when you’re ready, Sirius. No rush, yeah?’ He nods.

James comes back with a cup of warm hot chocolate and places it on the table for Sirius, taking his spot back next to him on the couch.

‘I left them.’ Sirius breaks the silence, his eyes stuck on his hands fidgeting with each other on his lap. ‘It was about time I left my parents but… I can’t believe I just left Reggie there. He’s gonna hate me, he- Godric I-’ He breaks, his hands now rubbing his face as if wiping off all his emotions.

‘You don’t have to explain, Padfoot–’ James speaks up, but Sirius quickly shakes his head.

‘No. No you need to know why, I just- It’s so hard-’ 

You squeeze his knee. ‘You can explain tomorrow, Sirius. You need to rest now, alright? You know you’re always welcome here.’

You can see the look in his eyes. Fear, pain, hurt, regret, but also relief and a tinge of happiness. He can only nod as he looks at his two best friends.

James stands up, a cue for you and Sirius to follow him. ‘You can stay in our spare room, we’ve had it ready in case anyone wanted to stay for the holidays.’

‘Thanks, Prongs.’ Sirius manages a smile as you both lead him to the room which you assume will be his for a good while from now.

‘I’ll tell mum and dad in the morning, you should rest now.’ Sirius nods and thanks him again while he’s settling in. James gives him a pat on the back before he kisses your forehead and heads to his room for a well-needed rest.

You, on the other hand, linger on the doorway of Sirius’s room. He looks at you with a hint of desperation in his eyes which you take as a hint to walk in, shutting the door behind you and sitting on the edge of his bed.

‘Are you alright?’ He sits down next to you with a sigh. ‘I know it’s a stupid question but… I don’t know…’

He chuckles lightly, the tension in the air softened, giving way for a more light-hearted and calm tone.

‘I could be better, but I’m glad I have you.’ He pauses as he looks at you, a stare that made your heart flutter. ‘A-and James, of course.’

You look at him with a hint of a smile, your shoulders rubbing against each other. ‘You’ll always have me, Pads… Us.’ 

You suddenly stand up. ‘Hold on.’ You walk downstairs, grab a glass of water and painkillers and go back into Sirius’s room and place them on his bedside tables while he watches you with curiosity. 

‘What’s this for?’

‘You were absolutely drenched. Just in case you might fall ill, something for you to take in the morning.’ 

His heart skips a beat as he watches you show him the sort of care that not even his family has shown him in his whole lifetime. 

He grabs your wrist desperately but gently, his eyes looking up at you like a puppy anticipating its praise for a trick.

‘Pads? You okay?’

He gets up, hovering over you with a vulnerability that makes his tall frame appear small and fragile.

Wordlessly, he slumps his forehead on your shoulder and lets his shoulders sag. The weight of the night finally leaves him as he collapses onto you, letting himself break down into your shoulder. His heaving sobs echo around you.

‘Siri…’ You whisper into his ear. You’re not used to seeing such an emotional side of him. He’s usually so bright and loud, a proud, smug grin on his face as he prances through the halls of Hogwarts. Now, in the dim and little room, you hold the same boy that’s held your heart in his palm for years. The boy that’s now showing a side of him that he doesn’t even show to himself.

You wrap your arms around him tightly, pulling him impossibly closer to you as you comb your fingers through his long, still slightly damp hair.

Sirius shudders at the feeling.

‘Everything’ll fall into place. I promise, Sirius.’ You continue to whisper reassurances into his ear. You can’t tell if those reassurances are just for him or for the both of you, but now you just know that he needs them more.

He pulls away to look at you while you remain in each other’s hold, his eyes roaming yours as if to find a hidden message in them. Anything, anything to prove to himself that he’s where he’s ever needed to be, where he’ll ever need to be.

Your finger as it glided up his skin to wipe the tears off his face, the site of you in his hoodie, the domesticity of it all, the dense, moody atmosphere; all of it. It all clouded his brain, his mind, any sense of logic that he held onto. It was all fogged into a silhouette he couldn’t make sense of anymore as he crashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss was messy, unrestrained, as if pouring every ounce of your soul into that fleeting moment of closeness. Your lips moved together in a trembling dance, every touch drenched in vulnerability and an aching need to hold on. It was as though the world had shrunk to just the space between you.

You both pull away reluctantly in the search for air, panting exasperatedly as your eyes never break the foggy stares you give each other. In that moment, Sirius knew he wasn’t alone anymore. For the first time, the weight of his past felt lighter—not gone, but shared. And as your laughter filled the small room, he realized this was what home felt like.

‘Took you only four years, Pads.’

You both chuckle, his forehead leaning on yours while his hands trace the skin of your neck and waist.

‘That all you’ve got to say, darling?’

You smile up at him. ‘Trust me, there’s so much I’ve got to say.’

He pecks your lips. He couldn’t get enough of you and he’s only just started.

‘Good thing I’m stuck here with you then, huh?'

[demonic0angel]

Tim: *downing another energy drink while on a case* You ever drink so many energy drinks that you start hearing your own heart beat?

Danny: *Laying across Tim's lap like a cat, ideally scrolling on his phone* Sounds like me, when I take too much benadryl and start seeing the hat man

Tim: *Immediately concerned for his boyfriend's safety* THE WHO?!

Danny: Oh, this is not a safe place suddenly!

(The hat man is Walker)

(THE HAT MAN BEING WALKER ASDFGHKLL)

Tim: I’ve also seen the Hat Man. But only when my morphine is replaced with fentanyl :/

Danny: Wha— Tim! That’s not good!! I’m pretty sure Hat Man is a ghost!!

Tim: Oh, so it’s fine when you do it, but not when I do it?

Danny: Yes.

Tim: >:/

Danny: >:/

Tim: How about we both get Benadryl and fentanyl rn and see the Hat Man for ourselves? Maybe he’ll help either of us win this argument.

Danny:

Tim:

Danny: Yeah, alr, seems legit

Jazz, in a whole ass different city: *sitting up from bed* My idiot sibling senses are tingling… I sense a great disturbance of the force…

[wonderjanga]

Billy’s Ideal Hero

Billy has had so so so many years to think about being the ideal hero. He’s finally come to the conclusion as to what being the ideal hero is.

It’s being super mysterious and suave. Mary thought him that last word.

Thankfully, he came to this conclusion before he started fully interacting with the public so no one needs to know about his normal, not hero-like self.

Billy didn’t realize how much of an impact this persona had on history and other heroes in general. The first time he found this out was, after the time bubble popped, when he was in DC because he needed to talk with some government people. On his way back to Fawcett, before he could leave the city, he spotted some kids bullying another, and he swiftly put a stop to it.

Marvel: *lands behind them with a smile* “I think it’d be wise for you boys to stop.”

Bullies: *turn and scream before running off*

Marvel: “Now then, are you alright?” *picks up some books on the ground*

Kid: *gobsmacked and takes the books back*

Marvel: *raises a brow but starts to float off the ground so he can fly off again*

Kid: “WAIT! WAIT! Are you the real deal?”

Marvel: “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kid: “That’s… Awesome!”

The kid started yapping and yapping about something Billy didn’t entirely understand. The kid then shifted his books around so he could get to a history textbook.

Kid: *flips to a page* “This is you, right? You said this!” *shows it to Billy*

it was a black and white picture of him, making a speech in front of a crowd.

“It is a heroes job to protect anyone they can. Weak or strong, black or white, man or woman. It should not ever matter. If it does, you were simply never a hero in the first place.”

— Captain Marvel, circa 1949

It took every bone in Marvel’s body to not scrunch his face and look away and embarrassment because WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S IN THE TEXTBOOKS?! But alas, he has to remain that cool mysterious disposition.

The second time he realized the impact of this persona was when he was also in another city. Metropolis. See, he’d wanted to talk to this so called “Superman” but before he could, a giant foreign aircraft made itself known. Naturally, he went through the proper proceedings of telling the aircraft to leave and that it was in a foreign airspace. Instead of leaving it shot at him. None of its weird doohickies worked though. How humans have developed… Anyways, that ended up with him luring the ship to the middle of nowhere. After all, he would never fight it in a city. He’d have to be an idiot to do that.

He took care of the ship itself in a minute, his lightning frying it. Then he took care of the invaders inside. Turns out they were from a different planet. He took care of them in a couple minutes. In the end, he was covered in alien guts and picking it out of his suit and gloves.

After Marvel steps out of the ship…

Supes: *standing there confused as to why the aliens weren’t attacking and suddenly sees Marvel and stares*

Marvel: *stares back and stops picking alien intestine out of the hood of his cape* (idk I just like it whenever he has a hood on his cape. Think of the injustice version of him if you don’t know what I mean)

*silence*

Marvel: “I presume you’re Superman?” *steps forward, ignoring that he’s covered in blood because that wouldn’t be very mysterious or suave of him to acknowledge*

Supes: “Uh…” *looks behind Marvel and sees a bunch of dead aliens* “Yes?”

Marvel: “Wonderful!” *moves in front of Clark, takes off a glove (Yes he also wears gloves because I really like his injustice costume if you ignore all the black and replace it with either red or white) and holds out a hand for a shake* “It’s amazing to meet a new hero, let alone one from outside of Fawcett.”

Supes: “Really? It’s a pleasure to meet you too, sir.” *shakes his hand*

And it really was, even if Clark kept looking between Marvel and the aliens because he hadn’t heard a single sound of pain from the ship. That either meant Marvel did it quickly or he did it quietly. Clark wasn’t sure which was better. It was still a shock to see a revered hero, a hero Clark actually idolized, look like the person responsible for a massacre.

The two talked though and Clark wasn’t picking up any homicidalness so…? They actually managed to get smoothies after the Captain cleaned himself up with magic. Clark didn’t even know how they ended up in a smoothie joint. It’s just the other hero was so- so- so suave and mysterious. It reminded Clark a wee inseey weesy bit of Bruce. (Billy would internally cheer upon realizing that his persona was working) The other hero was also extremely easy to talk to and actually liked a lot of things Clark did, like reporting!

it almost made the kryptonian forget about the fact he was pretty sure the other man massacred a bunch of aliens. Almost. He brought it up to Batman immediately after their little little hangout session.

[writingwisterias]

All of me for All of you

DI!Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Fem! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Fluff, Friends - Lovers, Insecurities, Oral (F- receiving), Praise Kink, Slight Breeding kink ;), Unprotected sex, Summary: He was always the best at surprising you Words: 2.8k Happy valentines day! I know I said it would be a drabble but I'm starting to think I don't actually know what the word is. Stay safe tonight if you do have plans! and hope you all have fun ;))

It was probably better for you that he cancelled instead of waiting in the restaurant for the dickhead to show up with some cheap chocolates and dying flowers in exchange for sex. Dating was hard enough these days, with all of the apps being used for a quick fuck instead of a meaningful connection. Did that not matter to anyone anymore? The idea of a relationship with someone who felt like your best friend seemed like a distant dream at this point. 

Instead, tonight you were sitting in your apartment with a glass of wine and some expensive chocolate you treated yourself to. It just always felt so sad spending the one holiday that is meant for people to declare their love to each other like this. To make matters worse you were the only one alone today, you couldn’t even have a galentines day since their dates didn’t decide to cancel. The only person you knew that was free was Leon. A recent edition in your life after joining his workplace. Your relationship progressed quickly into best friend status as your skills worked well together, trusting each other almost immediately. Humor even more so. 

The ideal couple if the office had anything to do with it. You wouldn’t be yourself by ignoring the blossoming crush you had on him. After all he was the office heart throb there were many others that felt the same. Yet, with his lack of text today you assumed he was slumped in some bar or busy on a mission. Too busy to deal with you stewing in your self worth. 

The rom-com playing in the background did nothing to improve your mood, only adding to the sense of loneliness that suffocated your brain. You hadn’t realised how sad it felt being alone when there were so many people booking up the restaurant spaces. To make a bad evening worse you couldn’t even get a takeaway dinner because of all ‘Love day’ deals. 

Leon however had remembered the brief comment you made yesterday about the date cancellation. The backpack he was wearing was full of dinner supplies, wanting to make sure that at least you had something to make you feel better. Did he have a date because you had one? Yes. Did he cancel it because yours was cancelled? Also yes. 

Perhaps this is just the life of someone smitten. It took him a while to even gather the courage to ask you on a date, spending days calculating every moment of it so he could finally admit how he felt only for you to crush it by showing a picture of sir dickhead. His plans ruined and replaced with some woman he found that same night at least then he wouldn’t be alone he thought. Hopefully you’ll settle for some homemade pizzas as the poor guy couldn’t even get the shop bought ones in the frozen section. 

The knock at your door surprised you more than anything, scrambling the mountain of blankets you had on the sofa for your phone in case you missed a text. He could hear your feet thudding to the door. Leon stood in the doorway, rocking on his feet as you turned each lock but the nerves settled quickly when he caught a look at your adorable face. You were wrapped in a blanket, hair down and messy, the house highlighted by the soft glow of the fairy light he helped hang up a few weeks ago. It felt like you, a ball of warmth. 

“Happy valentines day?” He chuckled holding out the squashed flowers from where they were crushed in his backpack along with a squashed box of chocolates. He grinned as the confusion on your face was slowly wiped into a happy expression. The corners of your mouth twinging upwards slightly until it finally broke into a fill on grin. “Leon, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date or something?” You questioned, stepping aside anyway to allow him to enter. He placed the flowers and chocolate on the table, his jacket finding the spot you reserved for it on the hanger by the door. “It..uh…got cancelled? Anyway, no point in us being lonely” He spoke. 

The backpack landed on the table with a thud before he started to unpack it. Various pizza toppings, bags of many types of cheeses. “What is all this?” You asked, picking up a few items trying to correlate his plan. “Well I tried to pick up some pizzas but there wasn’t any. It might be fun to try and make our own, I thought” 

You could have melted in a puddle right there and then you swore as you turned to look at him. The smile he wore was genuine for a change not the forced one he often used around the office or when the team went out for drinks. He really wanted to be here with you tonight, even going as far as to conjure up a last minute plan. So with a large grin you turned to face him, rolling up the sleeves of your pjs “Guess we better get cooking I’m starving” 

Music slowly filled the kitchen, flour covering every surface as well as each other as you both shaped your pizza bases. “We should do hearts, to keep in theme” You suggested as you started to create the arches perfectly. Leon nodded, giving an attempt himself laughing at the mess. “At least we will tell each others apart,” He joked. Whilst he lacked the artist approach that yours did it was still endearing anyway, it gave it character. “I can see the attempt” You giggled, resting your chin on his shoulder as you looked at it. Leon’s breath faltered – he hadn’t expected the night to turn so domestic, to feel like a relationship with you was something he always missed. It fuels the determination inside him to correct it to ensure that no matter what he succeeds.

“Yeah well yours was always going to be perfect, everything you do is” He spoke, catching your eye briefly before turning to look at the pizza creation he was working on. It was a prime opportunity to wrap your arms around him, hold him close and just feel his warmth seep into your bones. You didn’t though; instead you reluctantly peeled away moving towards the oven to begin cooking them. It felt like time had slowed as you both waited, sitting on the counters opposite each other whilst the pizzas baked in between you too. “So how come your date cancelled on you then?” You asked him, legs thumping on the cabinets as you swung them. 

Leon shrugged he wasn’t sure if was ready yet to admit the truth, the real reason why he was here. He was currently enjoying the atmosphere. He spent time with you often breaking his rule of allowing people close, letting them worm their way into his closed off world in case they got hurt. You didn't even need to try. You just did it, made him crumble and falter; gave him an adrenaline rush of something that wasn’t fighting death. “Rather be here instead anyway” He stated. You believed him, the look in his eye told you he was content. Happy even. The beeper on the oven interrupted your own admittance, cutting the tension you had both created before it was too late. You didn’t want to ruin this. 

“How come I have the shit blanket?” He grumbled as you both curled on the sofa, the pizzas cut and ready on plates in your lap. He was letting you choose the movie today, after all he chose the last one a few weeks ago. “Because this one is my favorite” You stated eyes glued onto the screen. You were both a respectful distance away, curled up in either corner of the sofa, your legs touching slightly as you sprawled out at a diagonal. You had managed to find a cheap candle, lighting them around the tv which added to the warmth of the room. It was the perfect night in. “I like that one as well though” He whined. You knew he did, he stole it every time you got up to the bathroom, used it when he slept on your couch. It smelt like him every time he left; that's why it was your favourite. 

“Cry about it. I could have not given you one” 

It was true he supposed, he could have been left to the cold. His body moved before he thought logically about it, sliding across the couch holding his pizza carefully. Worming his way next to you under the blanket. You stiffened as he moved the pillows around to create a fake arm rest, kicking his legs out on the coffee table in front of him. He was so close, you could feel his arm brushing against yours as he moved them to bring the food to his mouth. Brushing his hand against your thigh as he rubbed the crumbs off his finger tips. 

“This pizza’s great, what a great idea. I wonder who came up with” He joked but when he turned to look at you his breath caught in his throat. You gazed at him with a soft smile, your eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. Your hand landed on his, holding it gently. “How do you want your credits?” You whispered, heart pounding as you leaned closer. Leon could feel your breath against his cheek, feel the weight of you as you leaned in closer to him. His eyes scanned you, looking for any sign that he was reading the situation wrong only to find that yours were doing the same. Waiting for the rejection from him, for him to push you away and leave you alone again. 

Leon didn’t dare, not when your lips tasted this sweet once he finally closed the gap. Your skin soft underneath his palms as he held your face and brought you close. The empty plates clattered to the floor, the sound muted as the blanket fell with them. Leon dominated you, pushing you back against the couch. “Are you sure about this?” He asked nervously, his body caged you in. His aftershave intoxicating you as you nipped at the skin of his neck. “I’m sure” You whispered against the stubble that covered his jaw. Slowly making a trail back to his lips. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing because we are lonely” 

“Good. Me neither” 

With a smirk his fingers began to slide up your pj top, helping you remove it quickly. “No bra?” He teased as he pulled one of the hardening buds in his mouth. Sucking at the flesh loudly, his tongue circling the bud with an infinity symbol flicking as he moved over it. You couldn’t even respond to him if you tried, your heart thumping as he kissed along the valley of your breasts. His fingers replacing his lips on the breast he left behind. Your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, pulling him closer to your chest like you were trying to suffocate him with the sweet smell of lavender that lingers on you. 

You felt him smirk his teeth grazing the bud, small nibbles around the area that was soon to leave marks. He wasn’t even doing anything but devouring your breasts and it got you all hot and bothered. Your breathless moans were your only form of communication; words failing you as he continued to move south. His grip was gently – barely there as he moved his hands down to your thighs. Leon’s fingers dug into the soft flesh prying your legs apart. Your grey shorts are already displaying your eagerness to him. “Never pictured you to become this horny” He teases, his tongue moving up the insides of your thigh marking the journey he made. You felt him suck against the fabric, moaning deeply as the muted taste of you hit his tongue. 

His fingers returned their teasing touch, hovering above the waistband of the shorts. Leon however paused, glancing back up to you waiting silently for a final form of approval before doing anything. Your fingers stroked the soft strands of his hair as you smiled down at him and nodded. The shorts were removed fairly quickly and discarded somewhere in the room. “Cute” He chuckled upon seeing your underwear. You had totally forgotten about the heart shaped ones you wore this morning after not expecting company. “I…I wasn’t planning on this” You chuckled nervously. Your cheeks are heating up as embarrassment flooded through your system. You knew he didn’t care, not when his lust blown eyes watched the unveil of your underwear as he exposed your pussy. 

He watched the poor thing clench around nothing, the cold air making it twitch and spasm as you silently begged for attention. Who was he to deny you? This is what he wanted after all. To finally prove his affection and how much you mean to him, how much effect you had on his life since entering it. His kisses were firm, your arousal was just as sweet as your personality. Now sweetening up his bitter outlook on life. Fuck it was addictive, to ellicite each whine and whimper as he devoured your taste. His cock throbbed in his jeans. It was almost painful.

You didn’t miss the subtle shift in his hips as he ground them into the couch trying to give himself any form of pleasure he could. “Leon- please..more” You whimpered, tugging at the soft strands of his hair to get him to face you. His mouth curved into a grin upon hearing your request. Your slick coating his lips like lip gloss as he finally lifted his head to face you. “Anything for you” He grinned. The warmth seemed to follow him as he stood up, his presence immediately missed as began to remove his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion. 

His cock was pretty, the tip flushed red – cum beading in greeting of your greedy eyes. The shaft decorated in veins you knew would feel perfect as he moved himself through your folds. He knew he should fiddle through his pockets for that shiny wrapper, keep each other protected but at this moment he didn’t seem to care. Not when you were looking at him like that. Your legs spread even wider, pulling them back towards your chest as he returned to his spot. The couch had barely enough room for this type of motion, the coffee table limiting his leg room meaning it was an awkward angle. It didn’t matter in hindsight, not as he sunk himself in your welcoming warmth.

For the first time in years his mind was empty, no thoughts except for the pleasure that coursed through his cock, all of his blood rushing south. Fuck you were devine, he wouldn’t regret what he did to get to this moment. That poor woman who thought she was going to get lucky is now sobbing at home alone. He didn’t care not when you felt this fucking good. Tasted this fucking good. 

“I’m never letting you go” 

His obsession with you was rising, jealousy making him sick with thoughts of the competition he didn’t even have. Leon poured everything he could in the movement of his hips, hoping you’ll never forget the way his cock curved slightly as he entered. The tip brushed against your cervix as he pushed you further into the couch. Your nails grounded him, dug into his shoulder blades as you lost yourself to the feel of his cock. “I don’t want you to” 

The words were breathless, teased against the nape of his neck as you spoke them. His eyes met yours, he didn’t have to explain anything. Not with the history of his love circling around them. You had both been through too much, the job you shared demanding so much of everything. You both needed this. Something to return to – to remind you both you were still human. 

Your orgasm builds up quickly with his rhythmic thrusts hitting every spot you need him to. Your back arched with a gasp as it finally shattered through you, Leon smiled at the sight of you, his hips moved against yours at a bruising pace. It was a dangerous line to push himself this close without pulling out, the claim he could have by finishing inside you. Prevent you from finding anyone else, get anyone else from looking at you. He craved you for so long and it was gone too soon. “Where?” He grunted, burying his head in the crevice of your neck. “Inside” you whispered. 

He smiled against your skin, biting down as he finally let himself go. Your nails dragged along his skin as you felt his warmth flood through you. The two of you laid there, basking in the aftermath of your affection. Breaths mingling as you stared at each other with giddy smiles. “Happy valentines day” He whispered before bringing your lips in a sweet kiss. “Thank you, Leon” 

[o-sachi]

You're Just My Type pt. 1 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ What kind of person is the blue lock boys' ideal girl in terms of looks and personality?

ଳ characters; michael kaiser, sae itoshi, isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishirou, reo mikage, kunigami rensuke, alexis ness

ଳ requested by; @itenesycc

[🐟]: I tried to include as many as possible. Hopefully this fulfills your request! I might make a part two with everyone else I missed.

‎

ᯓ Michael Kaiser - the domestic & doting type

Kaiser turns into the biggest baby around his s/o. How could he not? She spoils him rotten after all. And she hardly minds because she knows that he's just seeking out the care and affection he missed out in his childhood. In a way, he's healing his inner child. Don't get me wrong; he's not using her as some sort of replacement for a parent figure. But he's trying to feel what it's like to be truly loved.

He absolutely loves it when she cooks for him. His heart throbs like crazy whenever their s/o shows even the slightest bit of concern for him. And don't even get him started about the way she would take care of him before and after his practice. At the end of the day, he makes sure to reciprocate her efforts in his own little ways. Suddenly, he's the kindest, most gentle, and most loving man on Earth. And whenever his salary comes in, she's sure to be at a fancy restaurant that night and receiving the queen treatment she deserves.

I have a feeling that he's into nice looking hair. It doesn't matter if it's long or short as long as it's healthy and has volume to it. He's probably into dyed hair as well. He also finds that beautiful hair pairs up well with a pretty set of eyes. The more expressive they are, the better.

ᯓ Sae Itoshi - the shy & soft-spoken type

Sae might seem like a big b*tch to everyone else, but he's surprisingly nice to women (as long as they're not a crazy fanatic). Well... "nice" is a bold term, so let's just say he's aloof. He's not harsh towards them, but he's not going to smile at them either. But! Deep down he has a soft spot for the cute and shy kind of girl. He just can't find it in him to be cold to that kind of person; It almost feels wrong.

But, yes, he'll never admit that in a million years. However, the changeup is noticeable. It's subtle, but you can tell through how his voice softens ever so slightly when talking to his s/o. She might be cursing herself for failing to maintain eye contact with him or tripping over her sentences. But Sae finds all of this quite endearing. And trust me when I say that he becomes the biggest menace around her—making her flustered at every opportunity he comes across. He can't get enough of it.

In terms of looks, he likes it when a girl has soft features with short hair that frames her rounded face. Her plump cheeks make it more enjoyable for him to poke whenever he teases her. It's also canon that he's into ass... so, yeah. He says it's all about the shape and less about the size.

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi - the funny & carefree type

Isagi had the luxury of growing up in a healthy environment, so I think it's only natural for him to gravitate towards someone the same. If she has a great sense of humor with a relaxed demeanor, then he's pretty much sold. Frankly, he doesn't need anything more. Isagi finds beauty in simplicity. His s/o is someone akin to a hidden gem. She isn't flashy by any means, but she's incredibly sweet so she stands out that way.

He wonders why no one has gone after her before. But, oh well, more of her for him! She never fails to make him laugh even if the jokes are corny. They're the type of couple everyone's annoyed at because they're too sweet and now they feel jealous. Oh, but Isagi fell even harder once she witnessed his different side while playing football. He fully expected her to be repulsed, but she was amused. Apparently it was cool to see him so pumped up like that.

He's not that particular when it comes to looks. As long as she has a gentle expression and she takes care of herself, he'll be happy. When it comes to clothes... well, he has no clue about that so even a simple style impresses him. He's really a low maintenance guy and we love him for that. Canonically into thighs, so he doesn't care if it's plump or muscular—he's content as long as he can squeeze 'em.

ᯓ Rin Itoshi - the perfectionist & intelligent type

When you think of the title "Ice Queen"—whatever comes to mind, that's exactly his type. In other words, I have a STRONG feeling that Rin is essentially going for the female version of himself. He doesn't give a shit if she's worse than him. In fact, that makes it better in his opinion. Someone's gotta put him in place, right? He'll happily let her do that as long as he deems her on par with him. And I don't mean that she has to be a football freak; she just needs to be more or less well-rounded.

Apart from his standards being sky high, he just wants to make sure that his girl is better than his brother's girl. Toxic, I know. But what were you expecting? Regardless, he'll always make sure to let her know that she's the best in his eyes. Totally out of character, but he'll be praising her like crazy if he's truly in love with her. I can definitely see an enemies-to-lovers story happening to this guy.

He's probably into the clean girl aesthetic. He finds the look elegant and sleek. It makes her look like she has her shit together and he digs that. Perhaps he prefers dark medium length hair—so, brown and black hues.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru - the calm & laid-back type

When I say calm and laid-back, I don't necessarily mean someone who's the polar opposite of him. She's still going to be as hyper and energetic as him... just a bit more lowkey. Like if they were to go on an amusement park date and ride a rollercoaster—he'd be screaming his lungs out while she'd enjoy the ride quietly with a big smile plastered on her face. She'd gladly let him drag her to whatever crazy scheme he has planned. Spontaneous, but blends into the background kind of thing.

In a way, she's also responsible for mellowing him a little bit. Even though she's fully supportive of his antics, he'll unconsciously calm down at times to match her energy. He especially loves her because she accepts all of the overwhelming affection that he has to offer. Hugs that squeeze the air out of you? Sure, she'll take it. Kisses peppered relentlessly over her face? Great! Just another day for her.

I have this teensy feeling that Bachira might be into ponytails or pigtails. He thinks it makes any girl look cute regardless of the length of her hair. When it comes to height, he's the dude that does not care if she's taller than him. To be fair, he's pretty damn tall, so that should say something about him. Similar to Isagi, he cares more about personality.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma - the sassy & independent type

I'll just say it... but Chigiri likes his girls a bit b*tchy. Not rude, not mean—but just the right amount of sass. She's not a bitch. She's THE bitch. You get me? He just loves how witty and snarky she can be. It makes the relationship more fun knowing that she can keep up with the banter without taking any offense. They definitely have an inside joke—something something about who has better hair...

She thinks she's his biggest supporter, but it's actually the other way around. The way this man will support his girl is like no other. He can't help it when he's dating a girlboss. Chigiri admires that she's headstrong and knows what she wants. Like ask her where she wants to eat and she'll give you a place... and an order.

Long pretty hair. No ifs, no buts. He wants someone that can rival his hair routine. Chigiri would even be the one to tie a pretty pink ribbon in her locks. I see him digging the whole clean girl aesthetic as well. He's into the preppy style—old money or academia fits best.

ᯓ Nagi Seishirou - the patient & reliable type

I'll be real and say that Nagi probably wasn't the best person to be in a relationship with in the early stages. Of course, he needs some time to get used to having a whole other person constantly be around his space, requiring his attention. It's going to be a difficult ordeal, so it's totally valid to get exhausted. But once he realizes how patient and understanding she is, he'll try harder for her.

One day he'll just wake up on a random morning missing her warmth, then his mind will wander to what his life would be like without her. He'd be terrified to the point that he'll do a full 360 and become the most doting he's ever been. Well, he'll nowhere be near overbearing, but he'll at least show that he cares.

He prefers it when she has short hair or if she has longer hair—she would normally have it in an updo. He says long hair makes it itchy when he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck when cuddling. And speaking of cuddling, Nagi would love it if she was built for warm cuddling. He falls asleep in seconds like a Minecraft character.

ᯓ Reo Mikage - the down-to-earth & responsible type

One of Reo's biggest considerations when it comes to finding love is his partner's perception of money. He's insanely rich, so it's understandable that he wants to find someone who isn't going to date him solely for his bank. He's going to be wary of everyone at first, but he'll fold once he finds someone who's genuinely practical and down-to-earth. Reo will be smitten knowing that she's staying with him because of... him.

With that being said, she needs to be responsible as well. I mean, responsible in the sense that she has her life together. She works hard towards her dreams which matches his goal-oriented persona. If she's financially responsible then, even better. Make those budget spreadsheets in front of him and he'll be impressed. In the end, he spoils her anyway.

Reo's probably into the unique kind of look. She dyed her hair a fun color and wears bold fashion pieces. Minimalist tattoos and piercings are her thing. He'll definitely take pictures of her and post her on his social media—practically bragging about her. He may or may not have paid for most of her tats and piercings because he thinks they're hot.

ᯓ Kunigami Rensuke - the tough & street smart type

Kunigami is a strong-willed person before and after the wildcard. So, of course, he'd be drawn to someone of the same air. His ideal girl is someone who can handle herself in tough situations—someone with a gritty, no-nonsense attitude and a street-smart edge. She knows how to navigate the challenges of life with a cool head and a confident stride. In other words, she can fight her own battles, but appreciates that Kunigami would always be there by her side regardless.

He's attracted to her because she isn't afraid to speak up for herself or for whatever she stands for, even if it means challenging him. They both believe that actions speak louder than words and they constantly express that belief towards each other in their relationship. Together, they're the power couple that everyone aspires to be.

In terms of appearance, he's not too fussy about it. He's more attracted to the fact that she's confident in her body. But he would definitely bark for her if she was a muscle mommy. Her fashion sense is practical yet stylish, reflecting her no-fuss attitude. Kunigami loves that she can effortlessly switch between tough and tender, and he's always in awe of her versatility.

ᯓ Alexis Ness - the creative & clingy type

Ness is into the artsy girls. Doesn't really matter if it's drawing, painting, theater, or writing—as long as she possesses the creative spirit. He believes that the creation of art is magical in and of itself. It's not supernatural by any means, but the fact that she can create something with her own hands that no one else can exactly replicate baffles him. He's the biggest fan of her works—that's for sure. It's practically praise galore when he's around.

He feels the most loved when his girl expresses the desire to be around him whenever she can. Quality time and physical affection are his non-negotiables in a relationship. And unlike most people, he'd find her clinginess endearing rather than annoying. He's going to be so generous with his affection—she better be prepared to take in ALL of it.

He's also very much into girls with tattoos. The regular black ink ones are nice, but the colorful tats are amazing. Bonus points if the tattoo has sentimental value to her. I think he's also similar to Bachira in that he doesn't mind if she's taller than him. She wants to wear heels on date night? By all means, go ahead. He'll compliment her anyway.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[kabr0ztrousers]

OUGH that bugfic was plenty dark, thank you for your excellent work 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

also had another idea! fem!reader somehow finds herself as the stress-relief chew toy for an all male clan of Gnolls 👀 they were cast out by the matriarchs of their previous clans years ago, so they haven’t fucked in ages and are super pent up. she has a bad time at first, coming to terms with the fact that she belongs to them and she’ll never know the taste of freedom again, but eventually they break her, and she wouldn’t leave her new masters for anything in the world. if you have any ideas or alterations in mind, go wild!! i’d love to see what you come up with!

Kabr0z Writes episode 67: Chew Toy

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Noncon; kidnap; group sex; impregnation; knotting; corruption;

A/N: There's currently 42 requests in the queue, mixed in with the odd miscellaneous ask I'm not sure what to do with 😁

As always, please direct any requests to my ask box and they'll get written when they hit the top of the list

######################################

Cultists raided the caravan. You were about 3 days out of Baldur's Gate headed south along the Sword Coast to Candlekeep when they attacked. Most of the group were captured, awaiting god knows what fate if you don't find a town with an Adventurer's Guild desk and get help. With any luck, the dirt road you're walking will lead to civilization and not some lost city or long-forgotten tomb

Hell, if you did find one of those, there's an even to good chance you'll find a party of adventurers there anyway. It's not like adventuring parties are hard to find, there's normally at least four per tavern.

The road came to an end at a cave. Because of course it did. You sighed and steeled yourself, this is precisely the kind of place you'll go to find a fighter, cleric, mage and/or rogue looking to seek fortune and fame. All you had to do was take those first steps into the scary cave.

The cave smelled of blood, and rotting meat. Not necessarily a bad sign. Nor were the wooden stakes driven into the ground in places, or the gnawed bones lying around. If anything that raised your hopes, an empty cave is just a cave, this is positively bait for a team of idealists hoping to make their name.

You went on, keeping to the shadows as you snuck in. This place defi isn't a goblin cave, there's no cookfires. Not an owlbear, there's too much worked material. A cackling, barking laugh answered your question.

Gnolls. Hyena-people, as big as an orc.

Sure enough, around the corner you saw a couple of gnolls wrestling. As big as the stories said, dressed in rags and furs, flint axes lying forgotten on the floor as they tried to grapple one another into submission.

Ok, some gnolls, but no heroes to beg for help. Not ideal, but at least you hadn't been seen. You stepped backwards, turning for the cave mouth. And stepped straight into a gnoll behind you.

The canine brute grabbed you and barreled forwards, yipping in excitement "Girl-thing! Yes! Yes!"

The others looked over to him, the two who were sparring broke from each other, the larger pawing over to you "Not us. Not replace. Need mother-leader"

The one holding you tore off your skirt "Not mother-leader. Woman. Fertile. Make new."

The big gnoll inspected you, sniffing your hair before grabbing a fistful and pulling it back to push his face into yours. He smelled of rotting meat and matted fur, an undercurrent of thick musk wafting from him "Have to do. Hold girl-thing. I go first."

The big gnoll grabbed your tit, squeezing hard and making you gasp. You tried to struggle and squirm against the grip of the one behind you as a clawed hand rubbed your folds. Wetness spread over your lower lips even as you tried to stop it. You were at odds with your body, praying to the gods these gnolls wouldn't get to have their way with you as your cunt invited him in.

"Girl-thing is ready." The big one put his slimy hand to his nose, sniffing it "Smells good. Bear lots of pups"

A blunt object pressed up against your cunt. You closed your eyes, pretending you were anywhere but here as it slipped in, the gnoll growling with satisfaction as he sank into your loins.

He sped up, grabbing you off the scrawny one, holding you up by your hips, arms under your knees, keeping you open.

He pressed you against a wall, pounding into your soaking cunt, the sound of your pussy being violated almost drowning out your sobs as you felt the leaking cock pushing up inside you.

You cried out as he hilted himself in you, the knot at the base of his cock expanding to trap you together as he stuck his tongue down your throat. His cum started to fill you up, the heat spreading through you as you stayed locked together.

He was still humping, even as he panted and spurted, the thick knot sending waves of pressure through you, bouncing between your cervix and your entrance. You could feel it pressing up against the inner parts of your clit, forcing against your g-spot. Your legs started to shake, your abs clench, and your hands grip the rough fur of the gnoll railing you as you came to your first wailing orgasm.

He howled as your pussy clenched and squeezed, milking him inside you. You didn't want to enjoy it, being fucked by this stinking brute, but you couldn't help but let a moan escape your lips as you humped into him, grinding your hips against his.

The knot popped out of you, the alpha gnoll dropping you as the next stepped up, the scrawny one this time.

He turned you onto your front, lifting your hips as your face ground into the dirt. No need for foreplay this time; your slobbering, open cunt welcomed his cock as he started thrusting. He was a little smaller than the first, but not by much. If he were a human, he'd still be considered amazingly well-endowed.

Your hand moved on its own, rubbing your clit as he fucked you, your hips rolling and waving against him as your mouth opened to allow whines and gasps of animal lust escape you. Again, a knot swelled up inside you as the second load of hyena-man cum pulsed into you. Your toes curled as you rubbed yourself harder, cresting the peak of another orgasm.

You ached. Your pussy was raw and punished, stretched and twitching as the second knot pulled from you and the third one took its place. You didn't even have enough energy now to moan. You just lay there, hindquarters presented an dripping cum as beast after beast took their turn on you. By the time the last male had pulled out, the alpha was ready for a second helping.

Round and around they went, filling you with a mix of potent cum, taking out their frustrations on you. By the time they were done you couldn't move, sprawled drooling and leaking on the cave floor, short breaths and sporadic twitching the only clues to your continued life.

Gnoll cubs come fast, within weeks of daily treatment you were already visibly pregnant. The pack was gentler with you now, you smelled like them and they could see you were carrying their young.

By the time you were halfway along, the former alpha was curled at your seat. Your hand idly scratching behind his ear as you watched your pack spar and bring home the hunt. They still hadn't figured out how to maintain a cookfire, and teaching them which wood was good for burning was tricky, but they just need a strong woman's hand to guide them.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know there's a reason you came here... It doesn't matter now.

You've got a pack to lead.

####################################

Sorry this one was late! Shit happened last night and left me in no mood to write, so we're getting another Sunday double-bill.

Also meant I could put my whole pussy into this one, so to speak, so not all bad.

I was gonna have this one ending worse for Fem!Reader, but it felt better to invert the power dynamic at the end (plus I love gnolls as a player race in D&D and their equivalent in PF2e so I wanted to make them a little nicer)

[checkeredflagggs]

Febuwhump Day 14: Becoming the Monster

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

a/n3: listen I like Lando but I needed a villian here

Masterlist | Taglist

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,836,622 others

tagged: y/n_rb, landonorris

y/n_gossip: it seems like little Lando Norris might be thinking of a matador career — he keeps tempting the bulls! After a few close calls with Verstappen, Norris and L/N collided resulting in a DNF for our girl with some pretty harsh words coming from both of their radios afterwards.

view all comments

user1: this is what racing is!

↳user2: I know — I was on the edge of my seat…

user3: pretty harsh?? Girl sounded like she was gonna run him down on foot and take him out

↳user4: lol did you see the rb team after she got back to the garage?

↳user5: they literally just picked her up and moved her away from the reporters 😂😂

user6: oh the post race interviews are gonna slap

↳user7: I can’t wait!

user8: that’s so completely unfair! y/n was ahead at the apex — Lando should have given it away, not crashed into her

↳user9: seriously?? Where on earth did you get that information??

↳user8: uhh by watching the screen??

user10: oh shit….

↳user11: Lando’s post interview??

↳user10: how dare he say something like that???

f1gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,457,987 others

Transcript:

interviewer: and what are your thoughts on y/n and your collision today?

Lando: obviously not ideal. You know you never want to be in a collision- especially when it’s not your fault. Y/N…she should spend less time with Max, don’t need her becoming another monster, ya know…

f1gossip: what an interview! During his post race interview for Austria 2024, where he was forced to dnf after two different collisions with both Redbulls, Norris didn’t hold back his thoughts. During this brief moment, he talked about the close friendship between this year’s Redbull drivers — saying that y/n (a rookie) should take a step back from her more senior teammate because no one “[needed] her becoming another monster,”. He also went on to say that he was losing respect for Verstappen and the way he raced.

view all comments

user12: did he really just fucking say that?

↳user13: oh my god he did

↳user14: it’s even worse when you actually watch it because you can just barely see max next to him — when Norris said this, both max and the interviewer froze

↳user13: i mean i would too. That’s a really harsh thing to say about someone

user15: people want cunty f1 back again but can’t handle this little spat??

↳user16: cunty? Yes. Whatever this was? Absolutely not

user17: he’s just salty she’s better then him

↳user18: how do you figure that??

↳user17: she literally won her very first f1 race? He’s been racing for years and only just won his first this year

↳user18: it doesn’t count really. Everyone knows that redbull cheats

↳user17: oh my god just shut up

user20: i feel bad for y/n…it really wasn’t her fault nor did it affect lando too much but he’s (someone she’s said she looks up too before) putting her on blast with some pretty harsh words…

↳user21: she looks up to him??

↳user20: yeah! She’s said multiple times that she really admires how open he is talking about his mental health and that she really wanted to emulate him

↳user21: oh ouch…then today and that interview has got to hurt…

user22: anyone else interested in what she’s gonna do to retaliate?

↳user23: 🙋🏾‍♀️🙋🏾‍♀️

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67

[deathlygristly]

For some reason I decided to read a Reddit thread on When The Phone Rings. Yes, I know, that's on me. But I've seen the sentiment on here too.

I guess it's what the kids call "antis"? Like this is a fictional show, none of it is real, and I seriously doubt any of the people watching will ever get switched for their older step-sister in an arranged marriage to the presidential spokesperson, who is the son of another chaebol family that's into politics. But then it turns out that the original son of the political family was a serial killer and the grandfather tried to drown him when he was a kid and then replaced him with the orphan who grew up to be the spokesperson. But the serial killer son survived the drowning attempt, and now the grown up serial killer son and also possibly the twin of one of the serial killer's victims is coming after the adopted son.

Like y'all are not going to be in this situation IRL, okay? You are not going to be in an arranged marriage with a man who is severely traumatized by seeing the drowning attempt, being taken from the man who had taken him in and raised him, and forced to live with people who did not like him and who controlled and abused him and who only wanted to use him to appear "normal" and "likable" so they could win elections and get political power.

And if you ever are in that situation for some reason, it's extremely unlikely that after three years of not communicating at all and pretty much being strangers you'll be targeted by a kidnapper, steal the kidnapper's phone, use the phone to finally communicate a bit, and end up with your husband revealing that he's obsessively loved you all along.

This is fiction. Maybe the female lead falling down a cliff and being fine and the male lead being in two explosions and being fine would clue you in on that? I don't know. Like someone said in the thread, these people must be why dramas all have a disclaimer now at the beginning saying that the drama is fiction and the events aren't real or based on anything real. Not that it helps.

It's just....it's weird and kind of conservative Christian culty how they're all "oh noes but young girls will think that it's okay if their husband doesn't talk to them for three years and is a bit mean!" If you're really worried about that then maybe you should be teaching your daughters or younger sisters or young female friends or students or whatever about boundaries and abuse and emotional awareness instead of not communicating with them at all, like how you say it's so bad that the characters are doing in the beginning of the show?

Also, okay, I've been married for 22 years and we started dating 25 years ago. I can assure you that the spousal person is awesome and our relationship is fine and healthy and the people at our favorite restaurant exclaim over us every time we come in and when I was in the hospital after gallbladder surgery the doctors called us "lovebirds." It's very easy to separate reality from fiction and to enjoy watching characters and stories that aren't your personal perfect ideal template of whatever and still have a healthy and enjoyable life.

If it's not easy for you, I think that's more a personal matter that you need to investigate and work on in your own life instead of judging and hating strangers online about it? Maybe you could look into resources for recovery from high control groups?

[elodieunderglass]

I received an extremely informative and well-researched ask on the topic of the modern UK cavalry, referencing a question about how Killie would do in a cavalry AU. I didn't have much of an answer myself, but a really informed person popped into my inbox with an essay about modern warfare!

It goes to my heart to anonymise the research as the asker should receive credit for their hard work, but that’s what they asked for and I would hate to be the vessel of work shoelaces stolen from the president, etc.

Hi, hello, I'm so sorry for the lengthy special interest lore dump but I saw the "Killie in the cavalry" post and couldn't hold back from my chance to contribute to a possible Killie AU.

Please consider anonymising this, because a work friend follows you, I've so far successfully concealed my Tumblr from them and if they see this ask they will KNOW it's me--

So yes absolutely the UK still has a cavalry!

I’ve popped the rest behind the cut with a TW for military discussion.

I am not a supporter of any military, or the military-industrial complex, but I fully appreciate it as a topic of research (I could easily get obsessed with bits of it myself) and I think it's important to be informed about how the world operates. I'm very appreciative of the information and the time it took to compile it.

Today the cavalry's operational role centres around armoured combat i.e. getting in tracked, heavily armour-plated vehicles and using them to fight the enemy.

This pretty much comes in two flavours: heavy vehicles like the Challenger tank

which are designed to fight, and light reconnaissance like the Jackal

which is designed to go forward, look at the enemy, and then run away before they can get blown up.

I can see Killie in either of these roles - obviously the instinct is recce (light, fast, sneaky) but one mustn't underestimate the extent to which a main battle tank has elements in common with a thoroughbred! It's a highly advanced and specialised killing machine which can nevertheless go *catastrophically* wrong in the most unexpected ways.

For example, tanks break down every few hundred miles, so reliably that they're followed by a huge baggage train of mechanics ready to replace the broken bits; this is a standard part of all military planning and so "normal" that any officer would look at you funny if you suggested you might perhaps be able to drive their beloved vehicle, say, half the length of the UK without calling the tank equivalent of the horse vet.

The Challenger sometimes throws a tantrum if it's too wet ( https://www.msn.com/en-ie/money/other/britain-s-challenger-2-tanks-face-setbacks-in-ukraine-war/ar-AA1uC047 ) and if something goes wrong (drove over barbed wire too quickly) the crew have to spend hours "track-bashing" - removing the tracks by hand and putting them on again:

Main battle tanks like Challenger have incredible and highly advanced armour, but once something goes wrong with them in combat, it tends to go horribly wrong. The ammunition for the main gun is all carried inside the vehicle, and if enemy fire DOES penetrate the armour, it often "cooks off" the explosive ammunition inside, leading to a chain reaction. Not a good time to be inside a sealed box.

Space is VERY tight inside even modern tanks. Four people (loader, gunner, commander, driver) are working in a space smaller than the average box room full of lethal recoiling and rotating metal that loves to eat fingers (sound familiar?). Small troopers are at a big advantage here - Killie is the ideal size; tiny enough to fit comfortably in all the crevices but strong enough to sling the (20kg) rounds for the main gun around (biceps!).

Big tanks have personalities in the way that small recce vehicles don't. Some regiments also have traditions of naming their tanks - this is more of a US thing in modern times (the UK did it in WWI but I'm not aware of it happening today) but you could absolutely bend reality a little. And O Holy Thunder is a *great* name for a main battle tank.

(Side note - in WWI, tank names started with the same letter as the squadron they belonged to. So "F" Squadron tanks would all be called things like Frolic, Firespite, Ferocious. I can see a skit where the crew desperately want to call their tank Holy Thunder but the boss won't permit it because they are part of "O" Squadron, leading to...)

Going a little further, you can put Killie in the modern cavalry and STILL have him on a horse! The Household Cavalry have a dual role as operational and ceremonial troops ( propaganda here: https://www.army.mod.uk/learn-and-explore/about-the-army/corps-regiments-and-units/royal-armoured-corps/household-cavalry-regiment/ ). Troopers rotate between the two roles. The soldiers you see outside Horseguards patiently stopping their horses from eating unwary tourists are from the Household Cavalry - Killie could be one of those troopers one year, and deployed in the desert in an armoured vehicle the next.

Note that again, while those horses are trained to be disciplined, patient and very smart, when they go wrong, they do tend to go horribly wrong, sometimes in distinctly Thunder-esque ways. You may remember the Household Cavalry horses who ran amok in central London twice last year, streaked in blood and getting into fights with buses: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c886qel3wdxo

You may also remember Obelisk, the Household Cavalry horse who got sufficiently bored that he started luring pigeons in with oats dropped from his mouth and then stamping them to death. He was subsequently taken for "psychological re-training". Peak Thunder behaviour.

As a final note, while you rightly mention the class boundaries that would make a cavalry *officer* an unlikely career for Killie (these still exist today, albeit unofficially - Cavalry officers tend to be "Country Life" types from good families called Tarquin and Hettie), there's no such restriction on the soldiers, whose demographic skews more working class and urban.

Cavalry regiments tend to have wonderfully evocative and antique names (Queen's Dragoon Guards, Royal Lancers, King's Royal Hussars) and bags of tradition, battle honours, and ceremonial kit and champagne bills that cost a good deal more than the average officer's monthly income. You don't have to have an independent income - but it helps...

If the AU needed Killie to be an officer, he'd be more likely to serve in the Royal Tank Regiment, which is armoured but *not* Cavalry. This distinction is entirely a matter of tradition & history, not operational role. The RTR is the youngest armoured regiment (founded during WWI, barely 100 years old, Johnny-come-lately compared to the 3- and 400-year legacies of the Queen's Dragoon Guards etc) and nicknamed the "Chav Cav" because it does the same job as the Cavalry without any of the class hangups.

I'd suggest, however, that Killie's... style... is more suited to Trooper Killie than Lieutenant Killie. I can't really see him dealing with the pressures and strains of being responsible for the leadership, discipline and welfare of 30 young Troopers and their vehicles. He'd have a heart attack, the poor boy.

I don't even know if Tumblr will post this monster ask but the Spirits seized me and demanded I post it before going to find breakfast. I hope it brings some joy!

Thank you very much for sharing your knowledge!

[hrrtshape]

please help a girl out i have to write an essay about plato for tomorrow and i dont understand ANYTHING & since u love him pls can u explain it in the way u do🙏🙏🙏 im cooked

plato 101 by emma who was watching youtube videos of her past teacher reminiscing because uh hello he's hot and im having thoughts

plato's whole deal is that he hated the material world.... passionately. if you showed him a croissant he'd be like "hmm. fake." he thought everything we touch and see and taste is a cheap knockoff of some real thing that exists in the world of forms, capital F, forms, like the divine pinterest board in the sky where perfect circles and justice and true beauty hang out uncluttered by earthly nonsense like bad wifi.

this is called platonic idealism. basically, reality = bootleg. true reality = somewhere else. you're in the matrix. he said physical things are shadows on the cave wall and we're all just little guys chained up in the cave thinking shadows are reality because we've never seen the real thing. this is not metaphor, this is his actual theory. the allegory of the cave is him saying: "you're brainwashed, you're dumb, get out." but also you'll hate it when you leave because sunlight hurts and nobody likes being proven wrong. plato is basically morpheus if morpheus was a virgin who wanted to ban poetry !! we love-hate him

also he had this insane theory of the soul being made of three parts: the rational (like your inner librarian), the spirited (like your rage when your essay gets a 5), and the appetitive (like. when you want to make out or eat seventeen grapes). justice happens when all three stop fighting and obey the rational one. so plato = structured. obsessed with order. control freak coded. would've loved filing cabinets. deeply virgo moon.

also. he hated democracy. hated it. thought it was a popularity contest run by idiots who don't know what the good is. he said only philosopher-kings should rule, men who've escaped the cave, stared at the form of the good like it's the sun, and come back to govern the rest of us cave goblins. so yes. plato was hot for authoritarianism but like, with a syllabus. i think he would've banned tiktok and replaced it with a ten-hour lecture on "truth."

and yes. he loved socrates. like loved him loved him. like wrote 35 fanfics in dialogue form about their intense conversations and named them after other guys. plato was socrates' fanboy, ghostwriter, and probably the most dramatic bottom in philosophical history

ok now go write. just say "plato believed in transcendent Forms, rejected the material world, and thought justice was psychic interior harmony projected outward into the polis." then add something about the cave. and call democracy "mob rule" once. you'll be so fine.

good luck. godspeed. don't cite me. unless you want a 100.

[tagedeszorns]

SPOILERS for "Fulgrim - The Perfect Son"

You were warned - Spoilers ahaed!

Okay, so it finally has happened. Pigs are flying, dogs are walking backwards and I am admitting that I'd rather read a Fulgrim-novel written by Graham McNeill than this one.

But to get to this point ... let me take the long route!

First - imagine a novel about a Primarch. Let's say Guilliman, because the Ultramarines are the example for everything. Let's say he returns. (Bear with me, I am not talking about how it actually happened for him!) And it is not explained at all, why he's back. What's his motivation. How? Don't ask stupid questions! Anyways. He's back. Now, what about his Legion? What about Calgar? Sicarius? His Librarius? Well, never mind, they don't matter, because (galaxy brain moment here!) - they don't exist! Instead they are replaced with a cast of new characters you never heard of before, but you are supposed to take as "have always been his favourites". And those characters are as generic as they come. Absolutely bland. Plus, Guilliman isn't even there most of the time. Also, apparently the Emperor is no longer a factor for anything.

That's the setting Jude Reid throws at the reader, just with Emperor's Children.

Okay. Okay. I can live with new characters. But maybe at least tie them with the rich history of the third? With all its glory and trauma? Harmony? Canticle City? The Phoenix Conclave? Anything? No?

Well. Then give them a gratious amount of Sex, Drugs and Rock'nRoll, because that's what they do in 40k? No? A bit? So Noise Marines aren't Slaanesh's sledgehammers any longer? Maybe remember how cool Eidolon and his Kakophonii screamed that White Scars ship to rubble or how Ramos tore down the Medean Gate on Luna? No? And the drugs are just some kind of better stims now? Like the stuff Lance Armstrong takes on a daily basis?

Well. Okay. No History, none of the cool guys ... maybe some Dark Prince-fuckery? No? Oh. The word "Slaanesh" is two times in the whole book and it's with sorcery, not normal EC or Fulgrim? And Dark Prince or She Who Thrirsts ... ah, nevermind. So, no Youngest God at all.

Well, Fulgrim is the mightiest servant of Slaanesh and he's the title character of the novel, so it's okay. Enough slaaneshi shenanigans for everyone! No? Fulgrim is there for about 5% of the novel and we never get his POV? Oh. Okay. Well.

Yes, I am disappointed. After Marc Collins gave us the great new Eidolon novel, I had high hopes Games Workshop wanting to bring out the coolness in the third Legion again.

But instead we got the most generic Chaos (not really) stuff ever. You could replace everybody with Red Corsairs and Fulgrim with the Tyrant and nobody would notice any difference.

And now I am back to the beginning. Why McNeill's EC may be horrible but way better than Reid's.

Because they are over the top. Because they are the superlative of extra. Because they are divas. Because they are trying to be cool AF. Because they are mean fuckers.

Reid's EC are what I always thought I wanted (my Midas-moment, if you will): Swordsmen. Duelists. But it turns out, that it is possible to fall to Slaanesh and hate excess (yes, Tamaris, the main char, is very offended by excess). Damn, girl! Take a page out of Ian StMartin's book and look up what excessive swordsmanship does for Lucius!

So, taking everything slaaneshi from the EC didn't do them any good. Apparently they are now Chaos Undivided, swear by "Gods" instead of their chosen patron God and such. Much generic. Wow. Sacrificing like they are the Word Bearers we have at home.

The ideal solution would be a mix of both: McNeill's extra queerness (because Reid's chars are giving off the most cis-het vibes I ever got from anything Warhammer! Even the Chaos Sorcerer reminiscing fucking Fulgrim is as sterilised as possible. I bet Reddit-Warhammer loves this book, because none of them pesky gays and their sexytimes!) and excessiveness and Reid letting them keep their beauty and dignity. It's very telling that the most erotic moment of the book is the main character kissing the guy he just killed.

Because that's the GREAT plus of this book. Finally! Beautiful Emperor's Children! Beautiful Fulgrim! Plaese, give me more of this! And they are (mostly) honourable! Awww, yiss! Yes, Reid is falling back into the way too familiar "uglyness and betrayal"-trope soon enough, but an effort was made.

But that's not enough to work as saving grace.

The novel is very clearly what @paniwarhamauser called "saturday morning cartoons to sell toys", because every buyable unit is mentioned and described very clearly.

But what this book is lacking, is a soul. An understanding for the EC's (and Fulgrim's - but the Phoenician barely features in the novel, so I will leave him out on this) unique tragedy, drama, history and power.

I am glad we got the great "Auric Hammer"-book (please let Marc Collins write more for EC! He gets them! Raging Eidolon gives me life!). And we still have Josh Reynold's superb Fulgrim-novel. But this new one is not for me.

I mean, we EC-fans have a lot of great novels and stories, compared to other Legions (poor Raven Guard for example). So I really shouldn't complain.

Well, rant over, I am calm and collected again and will continue reading the pleasant Alpha Legion-stuff I have left for the Fulgrim novel (may contain traces of Fulgrim). 😁

[wannab-urs]

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you. 

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here. 

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH. 

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar. 

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming. 

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet. 

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners. 

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?” 

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading. 

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?” 

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.” 

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap. 

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file. 

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work. 

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner. 

 “So what are your plans tonight?” he asks. 

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe. 

“Your plans? For your birthday?” 

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet. 

“Me and Murphy could take you out?” 

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,”  Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look. 

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door. 

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life. 

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve? 

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door. 

“Peña? What are you doing here?” 

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face. 

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!” 

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.” 

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware. 

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it. 

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.” 

“Fine… thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you. 

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better. 

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you. 

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little. 

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip. 

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty. 

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. 

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. 

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips. 

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.” 

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?” 

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. 

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Come for me, baby.” 

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you. 

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you. 

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.” 

 He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?” 

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.” 

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you. 

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter. 

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly. 

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head. 

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

[spideyhexx]

saccharine - sharing the bed

saccharine - aka; cowgirl!reader who teases the shit out of him x billy who 'hates' you, or so he says.

sharing the bed

fem!reader, little nsfw

Billy tasked you with paying and booking a room at the local inn while the two of you made a stop in the nearby town. You were scouting with him, meeting some top notch lawyer that can help the gang’s endeavors. 

It came as a surprise when he specifically asked for you to join him on the trip (less than a 20 minutes ride on horseback, but nonetheless a trip, alone, with him). 

He addressed the group with his usual laidback confidence that made you swoon. So much so, you almost missed the way his voice perfectly said your name, followed by his instruction for you to accompany him. Later that day when you confronted him on it, you asked, “did you enlist me as your confidante for this job because of our kiss or…cause I’d-”

He scoffs, “No. You’re just perceptive. I need…perception from you when we meet this guy.” 

It makes you cock your brow and he shoves his shoulder into yours when he walks away. Most hasn’t changed since the two of you kissed. And frankly, you did not mind that one bit. At the most, there were more lingering glances and touches and that was fun enough. You swear to god, if Billy jumped your bones one of these days instead of just brushing his shoulder to yours, it would have you dead on the floor before he was even in you. 

You scold yourself for thinking about that with him. 

Billy had gone off who knows where, stating he needed to take care of some business whatever the hell that meant. But you knew better than to question him too much. You did like twice and he gave you the silent treatment and a look with his pretty blue eyes. So here you are, paying the lovely innkeeper for the room and trudging yourself up the stairs. 

Your eyes immediately lock onto the fact there’s one bed, but it doesn’t phase you. You’re an adult and the bed is large enough for you and Billy so who cares? Right? Right. 

You busy yourself while he’s gone. The money in your pocket was just enough to buy yourself a sad looking hat to replace your lost one, but at least it was something. You wrap one of your handkerchiefs around it to make it look better and when you stand in front of the mirror with it on, your shoulders sag. It’s not an ideal look but again, it was something. 

The rest of busying yourself ends in continuing the wood carving you had started. You were unsure of what exactly you were making, but it would come along eventually. Maybe you’ll give it to Billy. He did seem the sentimental type at times. 

Just as you’re gathering the wood shavings in a pile on the desk, there’s a knock to the door. You had told the innkeeper Billy’s name so she’d know to give him the room number. Jumping to your feet, you straighten out your shirt and smooth your hands on your pants. A quick adjustment to your hat is made before you open the door and he walks in before you can speak. 

“Hello to you too,” you say, closing and locking the door. 

Turning back to face him, he’s holding something behind his back and his eyes linger on the bed. “There’s only one bed,” he mumbles. 

“You can see.”

Billy rolls his eyes as he looks back to you, about to say something, but then he tilts his head, “you got a new hat?” 

“Yeah, I needed it, my head was burning up in the sun and I hate being-”

“Also I told you to get a room with two beds,” he interrupts, looking back at the bed, and you use that opportunity to move closer to him. 

“I forgot to ask about that, but it’s a fairly big bed. What do you have behind your back?” 

Billy’s gaze returns to you and he doesn’t even flinch at the fact you’ve moved close enough to be right in front of him. He just knew you would do that. 

“You forgot to ask?” He gives you a look, his brow raised, like he’s disbeliebving of you. 

You give him a dramatic sigh, “Yes! I forgot! But it’ll be fine, you prude, we can sleep in a bed together.”

He shifts on his feet when you call him a prude and his lips turn into a pout as your hand hits at his chest. “What’s behind your back, Bonney?”

Billy glances back at your hat, “That looks stupid on you,” he nods his head to it. A smirk graces his lips when you groan. 

“I know! But I needed one. So get used to this stupidity, I guess,” you grumble at him. You pause a moment, then just shove at his chest again. Billy purposely stumbles back a little and you know it. Almost makes you smile, but you don’t let yourself. 

“What was thar for?” Billy walks back close to you, his gaze ever so intense even with his calm smile. 

“I don’t know!” 

You throw your hands up with your words. Billy lets out a breathless chuckle, looking to the floor and you shift to try and see what he’s holding, but he turns before you can. 

“Take that damn hat off,” he tells you, waiting. 

Part of you wants to keep defying him, but he’s got a spark in his eyes and it’s making you weak. So you take the hat off and just toss it aside. 

“Better,” Billy says, and he moves his hands to his front, your perfect hat that he bought you in his hands. Your eyes widen at it, looking back to his eyes, then to the hat. “Did you buy a new one or-”

“No, it’s the one you lost,” he says, delicately putting the hat on your head, fixing it just right. 

“But how did you-”

“None of your business.”

You roll your eyes at him and his smirk is a legitimate threat to your sanity right now. 

“You need to learn to stop interrupting me, I thought you had some manners.”

He scoffs, “Only some? I have manners.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. Oh. They look nice. Like you can tell he has muscles even through his shirt. Oh. 

“How did you get the hat back?” You try asking him again to block out your other thoughts. 

Billy thinks for a short moment before he shakes his head, “Like I said. None of your business.” 

Billy knew someone must’ve taken the hat, it was nice, and probably lying in the dirt. He went into every shop on the main street in town, hoping to catch someone with it on, with the reddish brown tie around it that he added. His luck of finding it was running out when he sees no sign, until he’s walking out of the general store, and sees a little girl with it on, too big for her head and her mother at her side buying some fruit. He initially decides to just let it be and buy you a new one, but he’d have little no money left so. 

He approaches the mother with his typical charming smile and a nod of his head. 

“Afternoon, ma’am,” he says, and the woman looks wary at first but gives him a greeting. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, it just seems your…little girl there has a hat that belongs to…a friend of mine. A special friend,” he adds on without really thinking. That’s what you were, yeah? A special friend. 

“I can show you the receipt if you need me to, my friend’s just been upset over losing her hat and I wanted to make her…,” he trails off and the woman seems to get what he means, bending down to talk to her daughter, saying something along the lines of this nice man says the hat they found belongs to a good friend who would be very happy if it was returned, etc. etc. 

Billy smiles at the little interaction and he takes the hat from the woman when she gives it to him, then he pauses. He digs into his pocket and takes out the money he had. “Buy her a hat that fits her with this. Sure she’ll love it even more. Every cowgirl needs her hat,” he says, before bidding them goodbye and heading to his horse with a stupid grin on his face. God he hates how he feels about you, but he can’t even hide it anymore. He’ll get his head together before he sees you. 

“You’re annoying,” you tell him when he keeps denying you how he found the hat. 

“Likewise, sweetheart.” 

Your heart does a jump, but you’ve already turned away from him, so he doesn’t see the way you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. 

“Thank you for getting it,” you say to him and all he does is give a hum in response.

When the both of you settle for bed, you take up the opposite sides, so far from touching, yet it feels like you can still feel the heat from his body. There’s only the one blanket, so you share it. You tug it closer to you. He tugs it back more to him. 

You consider kicking him under the blanket but refrain because you’re not sure if you could handle feeling his leg. 

He falls asleep fast and you envy him for it because now you’re left with his calm expression and messy hair next to you. He’s just so beautiful. You’re not sure if he even knows how pretty he is or if you should tell him. Surely you’ve said it to him before, but he always wrote it off as you mocking him. But you wanted to stare into his eyes and tell him you thought he was pretty. 

“You’re pretty,” you whisper aloud without another thought. He doesn’t move, nor change expression, which gives you a sigh of relief. 

You watch him for a bit until you feel creepy and turn on your side, facing away from him, sleep slowly drifting over you. 

As the morning light shines through the window, you start to stir awake, your hand reaching up to rub at your eyes. But you feel him. Close. His chest flush to your back and his arm over you, his leg loosely tangled with yours, his breath on your neck, his groin…

His groin and the undeniable arousal from him pressed right to your backside. 

Your sleepy state doesn’t fully register it all at first until he shifts and you can almost feel how big he is. How nice it feels against your ass and how the slightest shift from you would make you rub against him, so close to your own pooling desire. 

Your eyes open. 

It snaps you out of the daze and you almost shriek, pushing your elbow back against his chest. It pushes his body to the edge of the bed. Billy stirs awake at the hit, but he’s too asleep still to realize his position and he falls off the bed, landing with a thud to the floor.

“What the fuck…” he mutters out, groaning, rubbing his chest where you shoved him. 

You quickly roll over to other side of the bed to see him, partially trying not to laugh, partially feeling very guilty. “Uh…I’m sorry?”

Billy, sleepy, messy-haired Billy, looks at you with his brow furrowed and his hand rubbing his chest still, “What the fuck was that for?” 

He sounds angry and you’re about to answer when he pauses, his gaze down at his lap. The blanket had fallen off the bed with him, but it still did not hide how hard he was. 

“Well you were kinda spoonin’ me,” you mumble, then put your hand over your mouth when he looks back up at you. His cheeks are flushed and he shifts the blanket so you can’t see his erection any longer. 

“I was?” 

“Yeah.”

Silence falls over the two of you and he’s trying to decipher if he actually made you uncomfortable but then he watches you try not to laugh and he shakes his head. 

“You can laugh,” he resigns, rubbing his hand through his hair, then at his chest again. 

You do laugh, just a little, then give him a pained expression, “I didn’t mean to push you that hard. Your head all good?”

“Fuckin’ shoved me, cowgirl,” he mumbles and you squeeze your thighs together, “yeah, head’s fine, but you probably got my ass bruised.”

A snort comes from you and it makes him smile. Oh you loved that smile. Since when did he like when you snorted?

“It’s not my fault you were a pervert with your…morning wood against me.”

“Okay, hold on, I am not…” he trails off and shakes his head, “I am not that. And don’t call it that.”

“What should I call it?”

He rubs his hand over his face, groaning, “just be quiet.”

“Will do, boss,” you say, smiling like a dork at him even though he can’t see it. 

But silently, you hoped he was also grinning like that under his hand.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

On today‘s episode of „moments in the show that confuse me“, s5ep19 has a piece of dialogue that goes something like this

Marinette: (about how Gabe doesn’t approve of her) He thinks I‘m one of those fans who follows you around everywhere, showers you with gifts and knows all your (Adrien‘s) middle name days

Kagami: Isn‘t that what you used to do Marinette?

Marinette: Yeah but I did it out of love

This scene is so odd because it feels weirdly self-aware but at the same time it really isn‘t? To me it seems like the writers sort of admit that Marinette‘s crush was written like a celebrity crush, but then this doesn‘t go anywhere? It‘s basically just „it‘s the same as a celeb crush but it isn‘t actually🤪“

Like what kind of writing is this? I know I‘m again beimg nitpicky but hey I love hearing your thoughts on the show so do you have thoughgs on this?

I'm honored that you enjoy my rambled! And, yeah, I have a few thoughts on this one. To begin, here's the full quote for proper context:

Marinette: Oh, hey Kagami! How are you? Kagami: Hello, Marinette. I'm fine, thank you. Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette, it's my fault. I just couldn't talk to my father. Marinette: No, don't apologize! It makes sense that you didn't make it work because that's you! I mean, not you, you but you, as in, not me. Your dad doesn't have a problem with you anymore, he's even become super cool, making you pancakes, giving you all the freedom you need. He's come such a long way and that's amazing. But he does have a problem with me. He feels worried and I would be too if I were him. He thinks I'm one of those fans who follows you everywhere, showers you with hand-knitted gifts and knows every single one of your middle name days. Kagami: Isn't that what you used to do, Marinette? Marinette: Yes... except no! I mean, yes, but I was doing it out of love and, besides, I've changed a lot. Kagami: You are correct. Marinette: Really? You think I've changed a lot? Kagami: No. Well, not that much. But you're right to want to talk to Adrien's father.

This is not a terrible piece of writing. There are pieces of media where this would be genuinely funny. I've previously talked about the fact that Marinette's crush on Adrien is written like a celebrity crush and not a crush on a real person or even a proper stalker obsession. In that post, I also discussed media that features a fan getting to date their celebrity idol:

Whenever stories do the thing where someone meets their celebrity crush and actually gets to know them, there's normally a noticeable shift in their behavior as the character mentally goes, "Oh shit, you're real now." They lose the freedom that came with this being a mere fantasy.

That is the type of story where this dialogue would be funny. A story where Marinette started out as a fan or former fan with an idealized view of Adrien, but ended up viewing him as a real person by the time they started dating. A story where her view of Adrien shifts, but the things she does to show affection don't because it's not exactly weird to want to know everything about your significant other or to want to shower them with gifts. The only concerning thing on the list Marinette gives is "following him everywhere", but she doesn't actually do that in the show, so we're going to ignore that one and focus on the actual problem here.

The problem is that Miraculous never gave Marinette a reality check. There is no point where dream Adrien vanishes to be replaced by real Adrien. The Adrien that she starts dating in season five appears to be everything that she's ever dreamed he would be. He is #boyfriendgoals where he only exists to make her happy. He never shows off his more annoying behavior (and let's be real, Chat Noir can be pretty annoying at times) or spouts any bad puns that make her roll her eyes in a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He is perfection and it's terrible. This is not how you write a solid romance. There's no learning about each others flaws or even meaningful personal growth for Marinette.

We spent four seasons watching her struggle to ask Adrien out only for the resolution to be that he asks her instead. She never has to overcome that personal hurdle. After that, her biggest struggle is being brave enough to tell her boyfriend that she loves him even though he has showered her with love and affection, proving that there is literally zero risk involved here. It's a deeply unbalanced relationship that feels totally unfair to Adrien.

To be fair, there are stories where the Marinette-can't-say-nice-things-to-Adrien plot point could work. However, they're stories where a lot of focus is given to Marinette's trauma and her journey to overcome it. Miraculous didn't do that. Marinette's trauma and Adrien's response to it are handled horribly by every metric because of course they are. This is a formula show that can't handle a plot like this with delicacy and grace.

There's also the issue that, for this plot to work, the romance needs to be way more balanced. We need to be shown why Marinette is an amazing partner for Adrien who just has an area where she's struggling. We need to want them to get past this trial and be together. As-is, it's impossible to support this relationship because there's no substance to it. They're barely even friends before they get together. I have no idea why I should want Adrien to struggle through helping Marinette or why I should want Marinette to work through her issues with Adrien. There are other fish in the sea! Now that the identities are out, she can go back to Luka who she had no issues with!

This all feels very badly written YA or New Adult drama and there's a reason that I don't read those! I don't enjoy wildly unhealthy couples whose main draw is their endless drama and baffling sexual tension. I want couples who I love but, at this point, I can't even summon mild enjoyment for the canon love square.