#I mean IDK why because all their reasons were bullshit

[blastthechaos]

I seen some people actually think Judai is a bad friend or kinda of a jerk in the first two seasons...

Look, I don't wanna be mean, but if you consider that a Jerk then your seriously need to reconsider what a jerk actually is.

[lucimaaie]

big deal ✧.* tlou

pairing - Ellie Williams x fem!reader, ellie williams x miller!reader

summary - you and ellie fight over your jealousness.

warning - short, not proofread bc what is that, lil angst to fluff, possibly occ ellie idk

jealousy was something ellie knew all to well. though she wasn’t exactly ready to deal with it in you. she didn’t entertain any other girl (not on purpose) and left you very mushy (to be kept private for that very reason, notes when she was gone with joel and tommy. and yet, you were jealous.

“i’m serious. i don’t see how she was flirting,” ellie walked along side you, ahead of joel and tommy who had been tuning in and out of the argument.

“really? she did the arm squeeze, el. i did that before we got together, remember?” you walked at a pace faster than anyone else, the embarrassment of having to explain your thought process making you want to run away just for a moment. yes, you were jealous of some girl you barely knew and yes you were having this conversation in front of your dad and uncle. it wasn’t something to be particularly proud of

“the arm squeeze?” ellie looked at you incredulously as she walked to keep up with you. “the arm squeeze.” she repeated.

“yes!” you stressed.

“the fuck is that?”

“it’s basic psychology, ellie. the arm squeeze means she likes you. did you not know that when i—“

“does it matter? i like you, not her.”

“i know that.”

“then i don’t get why this is such a big deal, i’m dating you!” though her words rang true something in them didn’t agree with you. maybe it was the just the heat getting to you and not envy. maybe, but it didn’t matter the reason because your feet took you elsewhere as soon as you got to an old abandoned outlet.

you walked around the open space, kicking rocks of debris around as you looked at the broken in and looted stores. some caught your interest and you ventured into them despite joel’s warning to not go too far. you hadn’t even noticed ellie creeping behind you as you flipped through old ripped magazines. “ellie!” you screamed, covering your mouth.

she looked equally as shocked as you as you waited for sounds of clickers, runners, or any monster in the shadows. when the coast was clear, ellie smiled sheepishly and leaned against the counter you sat on. “so..jealous.” she tapped the counter, looking up at you.

“i..don’t want to talk about it, el. you’re right. it doesn’t matter.” you flipped through the magazine as opposed to looking at her. the image of carefree teens looking back at you made you frown. ellie grabbed the paper from your hand and set it on the counter.

“you did an hour ago.” she said with seriousness this time.

“that was an hour ago. it’s not a big deal, like you said.”

ellie shut her eyes as you threw her words back at her. she knew deserved it to some capacity. “it’s not nothing. okay, maybe she was flirting, but i didn’t flirt back, i swear.”

“you don’t have to—“

“yes, i do because you’ll just keep talking about it until i get you to believe me.” she sat down next to you on the counter, her hand coming down over yours. her eyes flicked from your hands to your face.

“i believe you, el.”

“so, then why’re you still mad at me?”

“i’m not. not really. i mean, i was. it’s stupid. i don’t get jealous about anything but—“

“me?” she said, her eyes widening in surprise. you could tell the way she held back a smile, even if the mood was serious.

“no, cupcakes. yes you!”

“alright, alright. i’m just clarifying.” she held up her hands in peace. “you only get jealous about me? actually?”

“yeah. and it does not feel good being the jealous girlfriend. at all. i just started an argument with you over an arm squeeze.”

“you did.” she laughed lightly as she knocked her shoulder into yours.

“my theory is still valid.”

“bullshit. i smell bullshit.” she sung. “i get jealous when it comes to you too. i just..don’t say anything.”

“and i turn it into an argument.”

“both equally as shitty.”

“not a competition.”

“like hell it is.”

the light of flashlight flicked on and off and your direction. the sight made you and ellie squint your eyes before you recognized it was joel’s signal in a place like this. “c’mon. gotta get back before the oldies get grumpy.” ellie hopped off the counter and reached for your hand. you did the same and intertwined your fingers with hers.

“e?” you said as you two walked out of the store and into the empty space. she hummed. “if..when you get jealous. could you tell me?”

she looked at from the ground to you. she seemed to consider it for a moment before gnawing on her lip. “you’d get annoyed with me.”

“did i not just piss you off fighting with you?”

“eh.”

“i’m saying annoy me, piss me off back. i’m your girlfriend, i can handle that.” you shrugged as you spoke the words despite your feelings underneath the facade. the whole girlfriend thing was new to the both of you, who known each other for years at this point. you knew the most about each other than anyone else. neither one of you want to be the one to mess it up.

“i’ll hold you to that.” ellie said quietly. your words seemed to give her an unexpected confidence boost enough to pull you closer to her and press a gentle kiss onto your lips. her own were but a bit cracked but that didn't matter as her came to cup your face. she pulled back, eyes soft with affection and hint of anxiety for your reaction. this wasn't your first time kissing each other, she didn't know why she was desperate for- "mph!" she hummed against your lips as you kissed her again. this time still sweet, but not so gentle.

“are yall kissing?” tommy yelled.

you and ellie quickly dispersed, pretending to be enamored with the broken displays of the stores. it wasn't surprising that neither Tommy or Joel bought it. Joel simply waved you two over, glaring as you walked ahead of him, hand-in hand. the air of awkwardness barely lasted a minute before you and ellie burst out laughing, only to be shushed by a grumbling, mildly mortified Joel. "to be continued." Ellie mumbled into your ear.

thank you for reading!

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

Can u maybe do like a Damian wayne x reader where they're friends and all but sometimes they (reader) tends to zone out a lot and think abt a lot of deep ish things that cause her to make weird faces without even realizing? Like she's much more quieter than usual and when he turns to look at her, he sees that she's visibly very upset but for seemingly no reason.

Oh, and if u want angst, maybe the specific thing she's thinking abt has something to do with him so she's really annoyed and snappy when he asks her what's wrong? Like she's be thinking abt how rude guys in their school are and then it kinda reminds her of Damian. Idk🙈🙉

(*ˊᗜˋ*)ᵗᑋᵃᐢᵏ ᵞᵒᵘ

am i good at angst? no… will i try? absolutely.

NOT YOUR FAULT.

pairings — damian wayne - al ghul x reader (platonic)

warnings — i tried to write angst but gave up, that’s all (and the ending sucks that’s not my fault (it is))

summary — pretty much what the request is gangsters

notes — i don’t know how to write angst 😞

━━━━━━━ YOU SHOULD’VE SEEN THE SIGNS before it was too late. you were sleeping more, food was suddenly too plain, you were easy to irritate, and you felt like you couldn’t do anything.

but, of course, you hadn’t understood when they began, you just blamed it on stress, since you had tons of tests coming up that you were relentlessly studying.

at some point, your grades had started slipping, and your teachers didn’t miss that. you were forgetting to turn in assignments, and whenever you suddenly couldn’t sleep the night before, you started falling asleep in class.

multiple teachers had brought it up after class with you, and you were able to come up with excuse after excuse.

eventually, Damian noticed. Damian, one of the only kids who didn’t ignore you this year, your first year of high school. but, obviously, that wasn’t always the case. Damian had originally been mean, tormenting you alongside all his other friends.

Damian only noticed because of your lack of emotions throughout the time you’d spend with him. on top of that, said time was clearly dwindling.

“hey, hey.” Damian called after you, catching up soon after and walking with you outside, far enough away from other kids so that the two of you could talk without anyone being nosy.

“what’s going on? you’ve been acting weird the past few days.” Damian’s face was clearly concerned, which irritated you further.

sure, you’d been quieter recently, and you almost always had a sour look on your face, but why would he bring it up?

“nothing, im fine.” you defensively crossed your arms over your chest — also doing so for a little bit of extra comfort as Damian seemed to be interrogating you.

“bullshit. talk to me, i’m your friend.” Damian stared at you, face full of worry.

“nothing.” you reiterated, “i said i’m fine, Damian. i’m fine.” you put emphasis on your words.

“you’re not a good liar.” he stated.

“like you even care.” you scoffed, turning on your heel and walking away. you found semblance in the school library, in the back of the room where you doubted anyone would go looking for you in.

with the silence of the room suddenly hitting you, your guard was up and your eyes were relentlessly looking around.

you probably looked angry. if anyone were to look at you, they’d probably think you were pissed off. were you? yeah, probably. why were you mad? you had no clue.

inhaling carefully, you felt your body begin to unwind, your heart rate slowly slowed.

guilt and regret flooded your system. you could then remember the way you’d treated Damian.

he was truthfully your only friend, he hadn’t deserved that.

i’m sorry, you sent the message. i didn’t mean to be so rude, you sent afterwards. he read the messages almost instantly.

it’s fine, not ur fault, he sent back.

sleepover at mine? you asked him, gathering yourself again before making your way to your next class. he agreed, and the day went on swimmingly.

the sleepover was practically the same, nothing bad happened, and it was easier to talk about it with him.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[lenaellsi]

I'm wondering how much of the fandom reaction of "Aziraphale doesn't ACTUALLY want Crowley to be an angel, he just wants to keep him safe/happy!" is because we spent four years between seasons assuming that Aziraphale had already accepted that Heaven and Hell aren't all that different, and that demons and angels aren't inherently good or bad. And it's difficult to let go of that idea in the same way that it's difficult to let go of the idea that they talked their shit out That Night At Crowley's Flat and have been happy ever since. But to actually understand Aziraphale's choice without hiding it behind coffee or lies or secret plans or body swaps or magic tricks or purely romantic intentions, we have to to understand that Aziraphale is still working under an incorrect framework of the world as divided into Cosmic Good and Cosmic Evil.

Because the thing is. Aziraphale does not like that Crowley is a demon. He just doesn't. We can talk about his reasons, but I really don't think that it's a disputable fact at this point. Aziraphale CONSTANTLY talks down to Crowley about the differences between them, and disparages demons in general and Crowley in particular over and over again. I mean, he's obviously just spewing the party line at this point, but he even describes the ultimate triumph of Heaven over Hell as "rather lovely." To Crowley. Where does he think Crowley fits, in that scenario? Is he thinking about it? (He is, surely, given how distressed he is over the danger Crowley is in due to the Arrangement?)

Crowley, to be fair, often says similar things about himself, and hates when Aziraphale calls him things like 'nice.' But as I've mentioned in another post, I think 2.03 makes it all but canon that a lot of that is self-preservation. Hell can't know that he's running around saving children and rescuing people from suicide and poverty, or he'll get dragged down there for decades. Crowley doesn't really think of himself as evil--he's visibly upset during their argument when Aziraphale hits him with "you're the bad guys!" because he thinks Aziraphale knows him better than that.

But instead, Aziraphale makes knee-jerk assumptions about Crowley and his intentions over and over again, including that he's behind the Reign of Terror in Paris and, about two minutes before realizing he's in love with him, that he's working with Nazis. Crowley seems annoyed and hurt both times, and denies it. There's no demonic posturing from him then.

Which makes the Job ep really interesting, right? Because Crowley actively lies and says that he is doing the properly demonic thing, but Aziraphale doesn't buy it. And why doesn't he buy it?

"I know the angel you were."

To Aziraphale, Crowley's kindness stems from the traces of that angel he knew. He thinks Crowley does good in spite of his nature, and not because of who he is as a person, life experiences as a demon very much included. This is because to Aziraphale, Heaven is Good, and all goodness must stem from it.

I've seen people get accused, when making this point, of attacking Aziraphale, or saying that he doesn't love Crowley, which is a ridiculous takeaway from S2. I've never seen a person more obviously in love, or a person more obviously trying to do good in the world. But so much of Aziraphale is tied up in his ability to believe multiple contradictory things at once. (See: the 80 years between "maybe there is something to be said for shades of gray" and "Heaven is the side of truth, of light, of good.") That doesn't make him stupid or ill-intentioned (in fact, he wouldn't need to do the kind of mental gymnastics we see from him if he wasn't clever enough to see through at least some of the bullshit) but it does mean that he's fully capable of loving Crowley while at the same time believing that demons are 'the bad guys.' Solution? Make Crowley an angel. Fix him, fix the bad apples in Heaven, be happy together, eliminate human suffering. Vavoom. Sorted.

Idk man. I'm constantly seeing takes that just...completely discount that Aziraphale really, genuinely, has misunderstood Crowley and the way the world works in his choice to return to Heaven. We can't blame it all on miscommunication. The most honest conversation in the world wouldn't fix this. Aziraphale has to go up there, without Crowley, and learn for the last time that Heaven is not Good, and will never be Good, because there is no Good. Good doesn't come from Heaven, or God, or even Crowley (and I see y'all, putting Crowley on a pedestal, saying Aziraphale wants to remake Heaven in his image--stop it.) Good comes from making the choice, in a very complicated world, to help as best you can, and it comes from love. And that's what Aziraphale will learn in season 3.

[itsascreambaby96]

Stu Macher smut where readers a little bit sassy yk? And Stu gets a little upsetty which leads to smut (Sorry I suck at this idk I’m nervous)

Aww sweet anon don't be nervous! I like the idea! I hope you like what I did with this!

Warnings: Smut! 18+ MDNI! oral (male receiving), p in v sex, facial, name calling, swearing, tiny bit of angst(reader is overthinking), stu calls reader sweetheart. And good girl but only twice. Thigh riding. I think that's it.

Pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader

Accept my apology?

It was exam season at university. So of course you were busy studying as well. Most people understood when you blew them off because you wanted to pass. The only person who didn't seem understand was your boyfriend Stu. He was done with his exams already. Now he was bored and you were not nearly paying enough attention to him. In his opinion of course. You've already spend the whole last day with him, giving him all your attention.

He has been annoying you for a couple hours now and your patience has been running thin.

"Come on Babe I'm bored as hell. Why can't you put your stupid notes away for a while and we can do something fun." As he said this he wiggled his eyebrows.

You were so done with his bullshit but still you continued. That was until Stu had enough and grabbed your flashcards.

"HEY!" You were not amused at all, other than Stu, who was grinning ear to ear.

"Give them back Stu!" You were tired and stressed.

"Mh what do I get if I give them back?" His pointerfinger was at his chin pretending to think.

"My gosh Stu can you for once act like an adult? This exam is importsnt for me and you are ruining everything because what? You are bored? Newsflash! You are not five years old! There are plenty of other things that you could be doing right now instead of keeping me from studying!" After your little rant Stu's eyes hardened, so you won't see the hurt in them. He threw your cards on the ground and left your dorm without another word.

With a sigh you knelt down to collect your cards. Were you too harsh? But he never respected your boundaries. And this exam was important.

Later that night after you were finished with studying and after taking a nice relaxing shower, you tried calling Stu. But he never picked up. After the third time you grew a little worried. Have you hurt his feelings? After trying for the fifth time you gave up and went to bed. You had to apologise tomorrow somehow.

That is why you ended up in front of Stu's door. A Pizza in hand as a form of apology. Your exam went well, you realised afterwards now how rude and mean you were to Stu. He didn't deserve that.

You kept knocking at his door without an answer. With a sigh you sat down next to his door. If he was there he had to come out at one point right? And if he wasn't, well at least he would see you when he decided to come home. You looked at your clock. It was 14:30. Another sigh left your lips. The guilt for treating him the way you did, eating away at you. Your mind going to all different kind of places. Thinking that he will be grumpy for a few more days, to even worse scenarios, like what if he wants to break up with you now? You don't know how you would handle that. He is the love of your life, and you thought for him it was the same with you. What if you were wrong? What if he was with another girl right this moment because for him this relationship was already over?

Your mind kept spiraling. An hour after you showed up here you almost gave up hope. Standing up and taking the now cold pizza you turned to leave. Stu came around the corner right this moment. He was a little startled to see you here.

Without thinking much, you threw yourself at him, pizza box almost smacking Stu in the face.

"Whoa there sweetheart, I am happy to see you too." Stu chuckled a little, but he was confused.

"You didn't pick up your phone, so I thought you were still mad at me for yesterday...And then my mind kept thinking of how this might be the reason you are breaking up with me..." You mumbled into his neck, standing on your tiptoes because he was unbelievably tall.

"Why the hell would I break up with you over something silly liken that? Sure I was upset, because you can be really mean you know that? I am a sensitive guy after all." That made you giggle a little. He might say this as a joke but deep down he could be sensitive even if you were the only person seeing that side of him. Made it all the more special.

"Don't know, you know how my mind can get."

"Fuck yeah I do. You are way too far in your own head sometimes, sweetheart." He tapped his pointer finger against your head for emphasis.

"I was actually hoping to make it up to you." Your breath was tickling the skin of his neck and you could feel goosebumps raising on his soft skin.

"Oh yeah how were you planning on doing that?" His voice took on a different tone, deeper, raunchier. And not more than a whisper, making excitement bubble up inside of you.

"I am taking you like my ways of apologising?" Looking at him still grinning.

He closed the door behind him caging you against it. "Fuck yes I do. Especially the part about the Pizza." He gave you a cheeky grin.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. But before you could say anything he leaned down and kissed you passionarely. Letting out a satisfied hum against his lips you pulled him closer. Your lips melted together in perfect sync. He tasted faintly of sweets, chocolate. You couldn't have him close enough to you. Not even a sheet of paper would fit between the two of you right now.

Stu bit and nipped at your bottom lip, it was almost painful, but you knew that he liked drawing blood from time to time. Heck he always eats you out when you're on your period too. It helps with the pain.

Parting your lips you let his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues dancing together, a bit of spit drooling out. Again Stu likes it messy.

He began rutting into you as the kiss progressed. Panting against each others lips.

You could feel him hardening against you, and with a little more effort you pushed him away a little bit.

His eyes were hooded over with lust, pupils blown wide. His cheeks had a nice rosy colour and his lips were swollen from the kiss. You were certain you didn't look much different.

Moving him around so he was pushed against the door now you dropped to your knees, before he could pull you in for another kiss. You opened his pants and pulled them down to his ankles. You could see the outline of his cock in his briefs. Yourn mouth began to water and you gave the tip a kiss through his boxer briefs. Stu let out a shaky breath above you. Smiling to yourself you began to mouth at his cock through his boxers. You were fairly enjoying yourself. The anticipation of having the real thing in your mouth soon, making wetness pool between your legs.

It wasn't often that you could tease Stu like this, so you were thrilled he let you go on this long. His whole boxer was wet now where his cock was. Deciding that you did a good enough job in riling him up now, you pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free. Stu hissed a little as the cold air if the room hit his heated up dick. But he didn't have to complain, because your mouth was wrapped around him in seconds. Normally you'd love to admire his pretty cock. How it is shaped slightly upwards, how deep pink his tip got and the precum leaking out of it, the vein that was running along his whole shaft. Truly you loved whorshipping his cock.

You knew Stu says the same thing about your pussy. 69 a favourite position of yours. But right now you could do as you pleased with him. And you were just as eager to get him inside of your mouth as he was being inside of it.

Everything about him was big, so his dick wasn't the exception. You always needed your time to take him into your mouth, but you were so eager that you almost didn't care, pushing your limits a little. He still wasn't completely in. That would be sheer impossible, but with the speed you took him in right now, it leaves Stu breathless. His head dropping against the door as he let out a string of courses. His fingers weaved into your hair. Letting out a satisfied hum at the salty taste on your tongue you began to work your magic. Bobbing your had up and down, jerking him off with your hands on the part that you couldn't fit into your mouth.

Stu was not disappointed. You were really making this messy. He could already see drool running out of your mouth, the sounds you were making only added to his aroused state. Gargling and gagging when you went a little too far. But again you were eager.

Sucking at the sensitive tip from time to time too, which you knew always drove him wild.

"Fuck aren't you the best girlfriend ever? Look at you? So eager to suck my cock. Fuck you look so good. You always do. But right now? There isn't a better place for you."

You keened at his praise. Another thing about Stu? He could never shut up. Not even during sex. One time he really tried to have a whole conversation with you, while he was railing you over the couch.

You kept moving your head, relaxing your throat to take more and more of him. Tears were running down cheeks, mixed with make up. You had him almost down completely but you knew you were at your limit. More spit kept drooling out of your mouth as you kept going. Stu's grip on your hair turned harder and with a push forward you had his entire length inside of your mouth. Your eyes widen and you looked up at him. More tears streamed down your face.

"Fuck yes. Look at you. Looking like my personal whore. Fuck college, you should do this professional just for me." Your cheeks warmed at that. "And then you wouldn't have to snap at me that I am behaving like a child. Humiliated by my own girlfriend. You know that is unacceptable."

With that he kept thrusting his entire length inside of you. You were gagging and crying but honestly? Your panties were drenched by the way he was talking to you and treating you. Holding onto his thighs for dear life. He was really enjoying yourself.

"What would your professors think if they saw their good little student like this? I know you are best in your classes. Surely they would expect you to be such a whore for your boyfriend." His voice was so deep and sounding strained, turning you on moreHe was reaching so deep, you were sure your throat would be sore for a few days, but it was so worth it. Your cheeks burned in shame. But it came from a place of arousal.

You knew he was getting close, you could feel him pulsing. Looking up at him he quickly pulled out of you. Your mouth opened on instinct and you helped him jerk himself to finish over you. The first spurts of his cum hit your face and you closed your eyes. Deep groans came from Stu as he gave you every last drop.

Once he was finished he kept looking at you. The thing why he loves cumming on your face is because it makes you look like his. Sure he knows you are his, but there is a primal part in his brain that wants to claim you like this. Mark you as his, so that any other male or female knows you belong to him.

Opening your eyes carefully you looked up at him with big eyes. Stu's eyes haven't lost their hunger. Quite the contray, they looked even more intense now.

Not breaking eye contact, you lifted your hand to scoop some of his cum from your face and put it in your mouth to suck it off. Another deep groan escaped Stu as he saw you doing this and fully enjoying yourself. Again another primal part of his brain getting pleased. He kicked his pants and boxers off and took of his shirt.

He gripped your arms after you sucked the third scoop off of your finger, lifting you to your feet. You were a little wobbly, your knees hurting from the hard wooden floor.

"Not even the Mona Lisa looks as pretty as you now." Stu rasped, making you blush even more. He dragged you over to the couch and sat down on it.

"Bring me something to drink, would ya?"His legs spread wide you got a little distracted by him.

"Sweetheart you know I don't like asking twice." With big eyes you scambled to the kitchen, knees still weak. You returned with a glass of water and a beer, as you didn't know what exactly he wanted. Returning, you saw he got really comfortable on the sofa. Upon seeing the two drinks in your hands, and the fact that you haven't cleaned yourself off he gave you a genuine smile.

"Aren't you a good fucking girl?" He took the water and chucked it down, opening the beer afterwards. "Here is how it's going to go sweetheart. You are going to ride my thigh until you cum, then I am gonna fuck that disrespectful attitude right outta ya. Understood?" You nodded quickly.

"Good. Now undress for me. Slowly. I wanna enjoy myself."

Who were you to decline him. Removing your shoes and socks first to have them out of the way. You lifted your shirt, slowly of couse, revealing more and more skin to Stu, who was watching you like a hawk. He let out a groan as he saw you were wearing his favourite bra of yours. You gave him a happy smile, glad that he appreciates it. Then you turned around, shimmying out of your pants, bending down, giving Stu a nice view of your ass. You heard a breathy "fuck" as he noticed you were wearing the matching pair of panties to your bra.

Slowly, with your back still facing him you unclipped your bra and took it off. Cupping your boobs with your hands you slowly turned around.

"Come on show them to me." His voice was demanding and he took a swig of his beer. Slowly you peeled your hands off of them. Stu's eyes immediately dropping to them. Your nipples standing proud and internally he was dying to wrap his lips around them. But that would have to wait. You still had to remove one item.

As you took of your panties, Stu could see a string of your arousal connected to them. There was actually a big patch visible on them that Stu hasn't noticed, because he was distracted by your tits.

Still feeling confident, you threw your pantis at him. Stu took them. Then he did something you wasn't expecting. He actually sniffed them. Biting your lip, you could feel your pussy clench. Your eyes widen as you saw him licking the wet patch of your panties. His eyes closing and him groaning, like he just tasted the best thing in the whole world, which to him was the case. He kept doing this a few times and you were growing wetter by the second.

Stu threw your panties to the side and patted his thigh, signaling for you to come over and start.

You scrambled over to him and took your seat on his thigh. You could feel the muscles underneath it.

"Don't be shy. Start. Show me how desperate you are to cum for me."

Slowly you started to moved your hips against his thigh. It took you a little to find a good angle that was catching your clit, giving you some much needed friction. You let out breathy moans, closing your eyes and getting lost in the feeling. Stu gave your thighs a soft slap. "Keep your eyes open. I want to see the desperation grow in them." Nodding you complied even if it was hard.

You started to grind harder on him, quickening your pace. Sucking Stu off has already riled you up so much, you just wanted to cum at this point.

"You really are a whore huh? Making a mess on my thigh. Look at you. So needy." Stu flexed his thigh and it catched your clit in a way that made you dizzy. Your pace became erratic, your legs were burning at this point. You needed to cum so bad, you wanted to gush all over his thigh. Stu took another swig of his beer, watching how your eyebrows creased together. He knew you were close. Another swig and he put the beer away, gripping your hips to make you halt.

You looked at him confused and flushed.

"Change of plans sweetheart. The only way you deserve to cum and make it up to me is on my cock." You nodded dumbly, your mind already fuzzy from how close you were. Standing up again you almost drop to the floor, but Stu held you firmly, helping you take your seat in his lap. You could feel his hard cock pressing against you. With as much strength as you could muster you lifted yourself up a little, gripped Stu's length and sank down on him.

Your mind was reeling at finally being full of him. It was quite the stretch, but you were so wet he easily slipped in. Stu let out a dark moan. Your warmth enveloping him completely.

"You take me so well all the time sweetheart! Fuck. Swear this pussy was made for me." You only mustered a nod, already fucked out. Stu began to thrust up into you, making you fall forward onto his chest. Whimpering as he drilled into your pussy. He was determined to fuck the attitude out of you just like he promised.

You were holding on for dear life as he didn't let up. Your pussy juice coating the both of you. Stu pulled your face up to give you a heated kiss, that you couldn't hold for long as you desperately needed the oxygen. Stu grinned at that. Your face was still covered in his cum.

"God I should take a picture of you like this. So I always know what a good little whore you are for me when you piss me off." You could only moan in response.

"Need a whole stack of them, cause I sure as hell would ruin them just like I am ruining you right now huh?" Gosh he really wasn't shutting up ever. But you couldn't really focus on anything he was saying. The only thing you could concentrate on was how he was stretching you out, his tip hitting your Gspot every single thrust. You were seeing stars at this point.

Your release came without much of a warning. It came crushing through you and you were a moaning babbling mess, feeling yourself clench around Stu hard.

"Fuck that's it sweetheart look at you. What a sight!" Your ears were ringing and Stu still kept thrusting into you.

Lucky for you and your poor abused pussy, Stu didn't take that much longer before he came inside of you with a deep thrust. He kept grunting for you to "take everything I give you." And you didn't have much of a choice than to oblige. Not that you wanted to.

The both of you were sweaty and Stu moved you both so that you were lying on top of him on the couch fully now. Panting, you could listen to his heartbeat which helped you calm down slowly.

"You're amazing. You know that?" Stu's voice was rapsy. You lifted your head to look at him, giving him a soft grin. "Oh I know." He chuckled and gave you a big kiss. You hummed. Enjoying the post orgasmic bliss and cuddling for a while was one of your favourite parts. Stu drew patterns on your skin.

Then after a while, it was getting cold by now, he slipped out of you, making you whine. He sat you onto the couch, drapping the blanket he had here, thanks to you, over you so you could cover yourself up. He went to the bathroom and emerged, with new boxers on and a wash cloth. Sitting down next to you he started to clean off your face.

"Almost a shame cleaning it up..." He mumbled and you softly pushed against his shoulder, making him let out a soft laugh.

After he was done you stood up and waddled to the bathroom yourself. When you came back to him you put the blanket down, as you now wore one of Stu's favourite shirts. And it was only his favourite because you looked so good wearing it all the time.

Stu patted next to him and you plopped down. He gave you a glas of water which you eagerly took and drank. You really needed it. He turned on the TV and pulled the pizza onto his lap. Opening the box, the pizza inside gone cold a long time ago. But neither of you cared as you ate and enjoyed whatever it was that was on TV. Neither of you keeping attention to it really as you kept talking about your days. Stu asked you how your exam went. Everything was forgiven by now. And if this was the outcome? Maybe you should piss him of more times now.

[hellfirecvnt]

Teacher Work Day

Lee Russell x Fem!Reader pt. 3

Summary: "Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?"

Notes: Whoops. This one's long. Idk why I keep doing that lmao.

Part one here. // Part two here. // Part four here. // Part five here.

The next day, the aforementioned Teacher Work Day, you show up hungover as all hell. You groan out a pained sound as you step inside the school underneath the bright, fluorescent lights. They claw and beat on your skull with every pulse of your heart. Your sunglasses do little to stifle the ache.

"Hey!" A voice that's far too excited for your liking. Whereas you're usually a tame person, this hellacious hangover has you out of character. "I just wanted to introduce myself to the new secretary. I'm Bill Hayden."

"My God, you are awake, aren't you?" You do your best to smile, peeling the useless sunglasses from your face. Across the foyer, watching from the large glass wall of his office, Gamby holds a phone to his ear. Lee's voice chimes a greeting from the other end.

"You're gonna be pissed if you get here too late and Bill fucking Hayden's made his move on Ms. Y/L/N." He taunts.

"Yeah, maybe I can show you around town sometime. Show you all the cool spots," he says with a smooth laugh. The young teacher's try-hard flirting is enough to make you gag, hangover or not.

"I just heard him offer to show her around town." Neal shakes his head.

"What are you talking about?" Lee ponders, sounding obviously stressed.

"Bill Hayden is making a pass at Y/L/N. Where are you?" Gamby's voice becomes urgent.

"I fuckin' told your stupid ass I had to meet with the lawyers today."

"I thought you said your divorce was finalized," he says, still watching as you wait for Bill to stop talking.

"Yeah, they usually like to get paid after they do that for you, dumbass. I'll be there in 20 minutes." He's about to hang up until Neal starts talking again.

"She's probably only talking to him because I told her you were into her, but when she asked you out, you said no."

"What?"

"It's okay, I told her that you are probably not into her anymore." Neal nods, pleased with his own actions for some reason.

"Gamby, what the hell? Why?"

"What do you mean 'why?' She asked you out and you said no. Did you want me to lie?"

"I want you to stop fucking talking!" Lee hangs up and tosses his cell phone into the back seat of his car as he drives down the highway. "Bill Hayden, you shifty little bitch."

He whips through a local coffee shop, because fuck Starbucks, and grabs some coffees for whoever. He just doesn't want to show up empty handed after Neal has taken to intruding on his dynamic with you. He quickly throws the car in park and speed walks inside with a peculiar amount of energy in his hips.

When Lee walks through the door, your face lights up. It doesn't go unnoticed. For just a second, Lee's eyebrows threaten to knit as he watches your expression change. He wonders if he underestimated his chances with you.

"Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N," he chimes, leaving one of the hot drinks on your desk.

"Thank you, Mr. Russell." You grin, genuinely thankful for the caffeine that you're praying will set you right for the rest of the day.

"Why don't you come with me, darlin'? If I don't claim you now, you'll be stuck running bullshit errands for Gamby." A wave of relief washes over you as he says this. You whisper a quick thank you and slip out from behind your desk. After grabbing your coffee, the two of you head down the hall.

You reach a set of double doors and as he holds it open for you, a student walks in. You're still learning names, but you recognize him as Todd. A freshman that loses his phone and has to come to the office to pick it up relatively often.

"Todd, honey, you can't be here," you say in your soft, teacher voice.

"Todd Frechett, what are you doing here?" Lee interrupts.

"I'm going to school." The short, blond kid looks around, confused.

"It's teacher work day, we did announcements about it every day this week. Go home." Lee shifts his weight onto his hip, waiting for the student to exit.

"But my mom's not home and the door's locked."

"Okay, well, then go bowling or play stupid video games, or go masturbate in your car- whatever it is that teenage boys do." He explains. "You can't be here."

"Uhh, uh-" he seems genuinely at a loss for what to do.

"No, no, no. Not 'Uh, uh, uh.' Go home." He finishes, shoving Todd out the doors he came through. "Open this door, open the next door. Open the door after that."

Lee and the student go back and forth for a while as the kid walks away, exiting the school.

"We need a day without children please!"

"Alright!" He shouts back, the door closing behind him, ending the interaction.

"Um, Lee. I don't think you're allowed to say half the shit you just said to that kid." You look at him with concern, sipping your caffeinated drink as the two of you continue walking.

"He won't remember it tomorrow. Kid's got ADHD and two Christian hippies for parents." Lee's words confuse you and you nearly get a headache trying to decipher what he means.

"So, you were a little late today." You change the subject. "Everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It was nothing." He shrugs. Nothing, you repeat inside your head. Nothing kept him from having a drink with you last night, he just didn't want to and that's fine. You try to bury your embarrassment under a smile, knowing it'll pass in a short while. Rejection is part of the human experience.

"So, uh, listen. About those drinks," Lee starts. He's got a stupid smile on his face as if he's almost in disbelief that he's already finding himself speaking so boldly to you. The divorce had been drawn out for a while, his feelings for his ex-wife have long since fizzled. But it just seems so fast. Too good to be true.

"Oh, please. No worries. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm still not allowed to talk to teachers, I think. I just didn't want to drink alone," you say, hoping to ignore the situation and allow your humiliation to fade out with dignity. You let out a fake laugh.

"No, I mean, this weekend. Maybe you and I could get those drinks." Strangely enough, his palms sweat with nerves.

"Drinks this weekend? I'm in. This week has already been a shit show," Gamby appears from seemingly nowhere. "Y/L/N, grab a clipboard-"

"Not today, Gamby. She's the secretary, not your personal assistant. Get an ISS kid to do it." Lee waves him off.

"Fine. Payday drinks this Friday. I'm in." Neal snatches one of the coffees from Lee and takes off down the hall. There is no way out of it, as arguing with him is like negotiating with a brick, you might as well accept that Gamby will be crashing your date.

You and Lee share a knowing look and he rolls his eyes. You can't help but laugh.

"At least we know it'll be a fun evening," you chuckle.

"I'm certain he will turn the night into a shit show the minute we get there, but sure. It'll be interesting."

The rest of the week is filled with nonsense and plotting from your two higher ups. They can barely seem to agree on anything until Neal learns that Dr. Brown has a history of alcoholism. The three of you gather in Lee's office.

"That's perfect, Gamby. Invite her out to payday drinks, we'll knock that bitch right off the fucking wagon." Lee looks elated.

"I hate to rain on your parade, Lee. But if she's been sober for this long, there's a high chance she'll say 'no' to going out and drinking," you chime in.

"Listen. That bitch is going down one way or another. Let's just invite her to dinner and see where it goes," Lee stares deeply into your eyes and you almost forget to respond.

"Y/N's gonna have to show up separate from us. Brown doesn't fraternize with staff under her VPs," Neal injects.

"Okay, well. Don't call yourself a VP. That sounds too important," you sneer.

"Too impor-? I am important."

"Yeah, but it sounds like you see yourself as like a Vice President or something." You can't help but tease.

"I'm close enough. I'm fuckin'... Vice President of this school." Neal fumes.

"Whatever, whatever. I'll be there before you guys get there. I can't let my bosses know how high my tolerance is anyways." You shrug and the two men look at each other for a moment and then back to you.

"Go see what she says, Gamby, and report back," Lee instructs and Neal just about listens to him, but then he stops in his tracks and turns back around.

"You've been sending me off a lot. Bossin' me around. Makes me think you might think you're in charge or something." He squints his eyes. "Or are you just trying to get some alone time with Y/N even though you rejected her and she drank alone about it last night?"

"Je-sus Christ, Gamby." You stare down at the floor in front of you with wide eyes and a flushed face.

"Will you please get the fuck out of here?" Lee pinches the bridge of his nose. "Go, go!" He ushers Neal out the door, closing it behind him. Lee returns to his seat behind his desk and glances up at you where you stand, smiling from the embarrassment and humor of the entire situation.

"He's the fuckin' worst, right?" You chuckle, only half joking with that statement. You take a seat across from his desk. "I was going to drink anyways, by the way. It wasn't because you weren't there." Lee laughs at your clarification.

"A fucking idiot, just an absolutely stupid motherfucker. I'm bewildered," he huffs, leaning back in his chair.

"I guess I'll get back to the desk. Mrs. Frechett will probably be calling us after a while." You straighten the stapler on Lee's desk and he watches your delicate hand as you do it. Just as you're taking a step toward the door, he speaks.

"What if I did just like being around you? Alone? Would that make you uncomfortable?" His words cause heat to rise in your face, you feel it all the way to your ears. He's posed his question like a hypothetical, but you're no fool.

"Gross," you say in jest with little thought at all. Lee's face immediately drops to one of confusion. "Oh, my God. I'm kidding. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." You shake your head, clearly taken aback by your own actions. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable at all, Lee. You're the best part of my day, usually."

"Usually?" He questions as an uncontrollable smile creeps onto his face.

"Yeah, sometimes Neal just sweeps me off my feet. All that shit about leadership definitely does it for me." You fan yourself, playfully. Lee can't help but laugh, utterly charmed. Time slows down, it seems, as the two of you laugh together. In the same moment he allows himself to feel comfortable with you, his mind is flooded with doubts and anxieties.

He and his ex-wife, Christine, haven't been divorced for long, but the marriage itself was over long ago. His feelings for her are all but a memory. What troubles him now is the fear of being left again. No, not in an overdramatic, help him feel whole again type of way. It's just a lingering fear. When Christine left, it was hard on him. With the divorce freshly finalized, he wonders if he can handle the stress of doing it all again should something go wrong.

The next day, after the school day concludes, you leave work and head home to get ready to meet the guys and Dr. Brown for drinks, staging it as an accidental run-in. After changing into some comfortable, casual clothes, you make your way to the bar.

To your satisfaction, none of the cars in the lot are recognizable. You park on the far side in the darker corner, hoping your car doesn't stand out too much. Inside the bar you order two drinks, slamming them down as quickly as possible before your coworkers arrive.

"Ms. Y/L/N? Is that you?" Principal Brown's smooth voice rings behind you. You turn around, flashing a face of convincing shock.

"Dr. Brown! Oh my goodness!" You chime, reaching to bring her in for a friendly hug. "Let me buy you a drink!"

"No thank you, Y/N. Now, you all know I don't drink," she laughs warmly. A sense of pride in her words. You begin to wonder if opening your mouth is the right thing to do, but after one glance at Lee, you do it anyway.

"I hear you, ma'am. I have a terrible history with drinking as well," you admit, only half lying. Is it really history if you're still drinking? Oh well. Brown's eyes go wide as she takes in your words. "I was clean as a whistle and straight edge as they come for years after initially getting sober." You finish your third drink. "But then I realized that if I have to force myself to not even look at the bottle, then alcohol still controls my life. Moderation is what I strive for."

You set the glass down on the bar and shrug with a smile, insinuating that it's your first drink of the night.

"Moderation, B. It's a beautiful thing," Lee announces, having just ordered a round of shots. "I know that whole book fiasco got you down. Leblanc fuckin' humiliated you at that tribunal."

Belinda seems to weigh her options before snatching the last remaining shot, and joining the group as you all toss it back. She releases a hyper sound, whooping like a sports fan as the clear, burning liquid enters her system for the first time in years.

"Yeah, Dr. Brown!" You cheer, signaling for another round. Round after round, with fruity cocktails in between, even Lee and Neal find themselves more buzzed than planned, but you're still stone-faced. Dr. Brown wavers on the cusp of belligerent and blackout.

You and Lee step outside to have a cigarette, mostly to escape the overwhelming nature of a drunk Dr. Brown.

"Did you really have a drinking problem?" Lee asks, wanting to dissect how much of your monologue was just a performance.

"Shit, I think I have a drinking problem right now," you joke. "Nah, that was all bullshit." He bursts into laughter, impressed by your quick-witted nature.

"Sure wasn't hard to convince her, huh?" Lee gestures to the door where a drunken Principal Brown terrorizes the locals.

"Not at all. She was basically grabbing the glass while I was still talking."

"I really appreciate your help, Y/N," he speaks softly. "Gamby's a fucking idiot, there's no way we'd make it this far if it weren't for you."

"Thanks, Lee," you smile with pride. You look down at your hands as a thick silence grows between you. "The other day, when you were late to work, did you really have something to do, or was it an elaborate rejection? I've learned you're pretty elaborate."

Lee sighs.

"Y/N, I'm newly divorced. My wife left me one day... Unexpectedly." He knows that's a lie and he's pretty sure you know that too. "I was paying my lawyers, filling out paperwork." He shrugs, waving his hand around as if to dismiss the matter.

"Okay, yeah, sure. Except you can do all of that over your phone nowadays." You lean against the railing outside the bar.

"I know, I just-" he searches for anything to say besides admitting it scared him to pursue you so quickly.

"So you could've had a drink with me after all," you smirk, reading his hesitation. Understanding his explanation, even if you've never been in that situation.

"Guess so," he mirrors your smile, slowly drawing closer and closer to you. Before either of you are aware, you're nearly pressed against each other. Lee's chest rises and falls at a rapid rate and you watch his eyes dance back and forth from your eyes to your lips. Your face feels hot and the heat only grows more intense until you finally close the gap, pressing your lips to his.

His well-tended hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him, and deepening your kiss. You reach your arms around the back of his neck, resting them there comfortably as your heads move in sync, albeit sloppily. Lee's grasping at any part of you he can, pulling you as close to him as possible. Your breathing quickens and a small moan escapes your mouth until you hear something strange and pull away.

"Lee."

"What?" He sounds annoyed to have lost contact with your mouth.

"Did you just hear Belinda say a slur?" You squint as if it'll help you hear better. At that moment, the door flies open and Brown is quite literally thrown out the door, Gamby close behind.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Gamby!" Lee exclaims, laughing maniacally at Brown's physical state.

"Oh, fuck. My purse is inside!" You run to the door and beg for them to let you inside just to grab your belongings. They're hesitant, but after seeing you so coherent, they let you in to recover your things, demanding that you leave right after. You show no protest and quickly make your getaway as promised.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you scan your surroundings for your group, more importantly, Lee. They're a few blocks down the sidewalk doing something you're not close enough to decipher. As you speed walk up to them, you realize Dr. Brown is standing on top of a cop car and...

"Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?" Your jaw drops.

"Fucking pig!" Belinda chants as she urinates down the windshield of the police cruiser. Lee makes sure to gather every bit of evidence he can, while Gamby stands off to the side, looking a little guilty. You understand his empathy, but you crave Lee's approval over social acceptance and that's just something you've come to terms with. Maybe you're not so far off from him on the crazy scale.

Right after her golden shower, Principal Brown passes out, tumbling down the front of the cruiser.

"Oh, shit!" Gamby runs to help her up.

"Cut me out of that shit, I want no part in it," you point to Lee with a serious expression.

"I need to get her home, ASAP." Gamby says, helping her to her feet.

"I'll drive Lee home. You get her to a bed." You shake your head, leaving the men to help Dr. Brown to Gamby's car. You jog over to your own vehicle in the dark corner you parked in and fumble with your keys, finally feeling your buzz. Worst timing ever.

"Let's see that purse," an unfamiliar voice speaks from behind you. You turn around with a raised brow and see a tall, skinny man in a hoodie, hiding his facial features. In the shadows, you can still see his pale hands as he lunges toward you.

"What the fuck?!" You attempt to fight the man off as he tugs on the strap of your purse. He wrestles it off your shoulder and the two of you play a sort of tug of war. "Fuck off!" You scream, echoing through the parking lot.

"Was that Y/N?" Lee's head pops up from the car he's helping Belinda into.

"I heard it too," Neal scans the parking lot.

"Let go!" You wail, out of sight. Neal rummages through his center console and then takes off toward the sound of your voice. Lee's not far behind, squinting his eyes to attempt to see further into the darkness. "I swear to fucking God when I get my concealed carry license switched over-"

"Hey!" Lee's voice booms across the lot as they close in on you. The man quickly releases your back, causing you to jerk and stumble backward, falling to the ground with a hard thud. Lee runs to your aid while Neal, broken out in a full drunken sprint, hunts down the assailant and bashes him once in the back of the head with his brass knuckles.

"Hey, you okay?" Lee kneels beside you, placing a soft hand on either side of your face, searching you for wounds. "Did he hurt you?" He asks with an eccentric amount of worry.

"No, dude. He couldn't even get the bag out of my hands," you break into a laugh and he joins you, just from the relief of seeing you okay. Eventually, Neal returns with his brass knuckles ever so slightly bloody. It was less about defending you and more about getting to use his new brass knuckles.

"The thief has been taken care of," Gamby says with his eyes narrowed.

"Mr. Gamby, did you just kill that man?" You ask, shocked.

"No, but I could've." He walks away without another word, heading out to drive Dr. Brown home. You climb into your driver's seat and Lee slips into the passenger side. It's quiet for just a moment before you speak up.

Maybe it's the alcohol and adrenaline talking, but you do very little to stop it. You bite your lip before finally speaking up.

"Lee?" He looks at you, buzzed and smiling. "Do you want to come back to my place?"

(Part 4 coming soon!)

•••

Taglist: @its-in-the-woods // @justme12200 // @sixx-writes // @littlenosoul // @itsyellow // @blackwoodtree

[gece-misin-nesin]

I hope it’s ok if I rant a little about MHA because your post about Endeavor walking free reminded me of how detrimental some of the messages MHA can be. (I’ll try not to write much, feel free to delete this tho!)

It is so frustrating how the story doesn’t linger enough on the weight killing people that have yet to commit a crime, people that are a threat to the status quo, holds.

Sometimes I legit feel insane because people will be saying things like, “He could be a threat, so of course they should kill him.” And then talk about Deku and class 1A “changing the world for the better,” when the series doesn’t care to unpack its systematic issues past individual issues + the series essentially maintained the system that failed so many—resorting to reforms and expanding programs doesn’t actually solve the problem imo.

And it’s so hard nowadays to even try to have a conversation that entails criticism of the story, when so many fans fall for the condescending righteousness the story feeds as a response just because it came from heroes. Even though the story itself presents reasons why we shouldn’t blindly trust heroes (Endeavor literally right there) 🤦

Like, the story presents characters being oppressed and the ultimate response to their plight is constantly, “Just be a better victim.” The whole situation with Touya and Endeavor + what Deku says to Touya, is absolutely insane to me.

It made me sick to see people saying, “This is what Touya always wanted.” This is what people are taking away from the story, when many people who grew up being abused and didn’t fit the “perfect victim” criteria will tell you how fucked up that ending was.

Anyway, sorry for ranting. It’s so hard to find people who understands criticism in the MHA fandom 😭 The story has a lot of good points and potential, Hori just couldn’t handle it properly.

I am ALWAYS happy to listen to bnha rants!! I devour the bnha critical tag like a wild beast lmaoo

As for your thoughts, 100% agree. I feel like a big part of the problem is that the story spends so much time setting up systematic issues and then just..drops them? Acts like they don't exist? And instead it redirects all blame and reason to indovidual problems, like Endeavor for example. Touya became a villain because of Endeavor..but the conditions under which he became a villain could have been massively prevented if the ranking system didn't exist and if so much value hadn't been placed on it. Or if the wealth and privilege that being a hero had brought to Endeavor hadn't let people turn a blind eye to his bullshit. Because are you really telling NO ONE had even an inclination that something was wrong in that household? Really?

This also applies to Tomura. In the beginning The Walk where he spent some amount of time on the streets without anyone helping him seemed very important to his backstory. He didn't become a villain just because his father was a pos, he becane a villain because the state of heroism led to a society that glorified heroes to such an extent that people didn't help a bloody kid on the street because a 'hero would'. But instead most of his memories Deku interferes w are about the Shimura household instead of the very important bystander syndrome. And THEN to top it all off, we learn the stupid 'AFO orchestrated Tomura's whole life' thing. I cannot find the right words to express just how much I loathe that.

Anyway, Touya and Tenko are just two examples. Overall, the story chooses to resolve individual problems (and how well even those are resolved is certainly debatable) and frame them as the leading causes of villainy when its mostly systemic issues that cause it and then act like there were no systemic issues in the first place. I mean, literally no one has a problem with the HPSC casually having private assassins to commit extrajudicial murder, so. Guess Nagant should have just been "optimistic" and waited for someone to, idk, topple the literal government.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making my mom’s boyfriend feel bad on purpose?

disclaimer: my parents have an open marriage

so i (20m, northern cheyenne) don’t have a problem with the modern celebration of thanksgiving.

really. i don’t.

the whole “pilgrims and indians” schtick is gross, but i find that generally, outside of elementary schools, nobody thinks about that part very much. people mostly just want to see their families and eat weird food. and i fucks w that.

the problem comes in with my mom’s boyfriend.

my mom (52f) is white, but she’s been married to my dad (53m) who is also northern cheyenne for 26 years. she’s the DEI coordinator for our county’s public school system and she’s one of my favorite most trusted shire people ever. so i never really have to censor myself around her. i can make jokes and complain and vent and etc etc etc. she’ll always listen.

her BOYFRIEND though.

i really do like my mom’s boyfriend (41m). he’s super cool, recommends good books, teaches me about plumbing, all sorts of other Manly Step Dad Shit (/hj).

but he is decidedly extremely caucasian. like so white.

he’s not /racist/ but he’s that in-between that a lot of white people are where they’re never mean, but you gotta watch what you say around them bc they bruise like a two week old apple.

there have been a few instances where i have in fact bruised his sensitive white man apple skin.

1) i was listening to a podcast with my mom about people indigenous to Hawai’i protecting Mauna Kea. we were listening to it out loud in our living room, and her boyfriend came in and listened for a few minutes before asking me to turn it off because it was “depressing”. fair enough. i figured he was having a rough day and i turned it off. (side note, it was All My Relations, “For the Love of the Mauna”.)

2) we were driving somewhere and trading off command of the AUX. i put on a song by Nahko and Medicine for the People, specifically their parody of “My Country Tis of Thee”. he again said he didn’t like it, it was depressing, and could I please turn it off. i did.

3) this is where i’m the asshole. we’re planning for thanksgiving, and i mentioned wanting to do a anticolonial thanksgiving. we’d watch some stuff about the wampanoag tribe (first contact tribe at plymouth rock), i’d make frybread and fried squash blossoms (along w my mom who would make the thanksgiving basics) we’d have a grand old time. her boyfriend asks why we can’t just enjoy thanksgiving without making it too political.

i’m like. that’s not political? it’s cultural?

and he says that to him it feels self flagellating and it would make him feel bad.

and i said honestly? the idea of thanksgiving’s history makes Me feel bad. and not to complain dude, but as an american indian, it’s always about you, and never, ever about me. so truly, i don’t care if you feel bad. we’re not doing a fucking colonized thanksgiving in this house. so if you’re just here for that sham bullshit, go and stay gone.

my mom says she agrees with me that an attempt at a decolonized thanksgiving is a good idea and a good compromise for our mixed family, but that i was way too harsh on her boyfriend and should’ve tried explaining in a kinder way first, since he’s really not educated on this stuff. i see where she’s coming from; i worry i might’ve scared him off of ever learning about cultural decolonization. ik it’s not my responsibility to make him care, but that doesn’t change the fact that plenty of white people are subconsciously looking for a reason not to care about natives, and by being a dick i might’ve just handed him that reason. so not only was i an asshole to him, but an asshole to my community at large by disservicing our reputation.

idk. i think i ruined thanksgiving :/

What are these acronyms?

[his-lost-one]

my favourite hypothetical ouat au will always be one where pan/neverland also got cursed in season one bc the potential is just so juicy tbh, especially if the focus is on the cursed versions a lot

like first of all the lost boys as just some teenagers who cause trouble in storybrooke? that sounds so fun. i need to see the shenanigans pan would make felix cause !!! the pranks devin would play on their teachers !!! just in general all the bullshit they’d do xD

because i feel like most of that would just be harmless pranks, but sometimes the facade of what they were like on neverland would shine through when they’d take some pranks too far and there wouldn’t be any remorse - i mean, it’s pan, so duh - but you know?? that could be turned into something edgy so easily !!!

and maybe wendy would be in the same class as them and she’d like try to stay out of the guys’ way maybe out of self preservation or fear or just instinct from memories she doesn’t remember.

and maybe at the end of it all, they’d just be classmates during the curse. or maybe they would sense that something’s off, there’s more to all of this - just like when graham started remembering bits and pieces before he died. maybe pan would’ve expected all this and somehow implemented a way to get his memories back like rumple.

i mean imagine that- some random high school delinquent suddenly remembers that he’s a magical supervillain infamous across realms. the CHAOS potential. (and henry would be in so much danger lmao)

or maybe pan didn’t anticipate anything and so rumple has to live at least a few weeks or months just knowing that this random trouble making high school student is… well. you know. his dad lmao.

like that would throw off the whole dynamic in s1 so much. especially because i can imagine rumple almost assuming that pan knows (regardless if he actually does).

and then there’s tinkerbell. who would she be in storybrooke? what would her name be? maybe she’d be a former nun (*cough cough*) who then got a job at the school? or maybe she’d have a house somewhere in the woods, a bit away from the main part of town. maybe a bit like zelena’s farm house. i could imagine tink being an author and a loner. who would try to stay away from most people in town, but especially the nuns and mother superior.

maybe someone would ask her at some point why she’s not a nun anymore and like with others when asked about their curse past, she’d be surprised that she’s struggling to remember- it’s all fuzzy. she’s not sure. all she knows is… there was something with the mayor and then she was thrown out of the covenant. she barely even questions why she doesn’t remember.

and actually i want to get back to the lost boys + wendy. bc like to have them be students at storybrooke’s local high school as their cursed selves is one thing, but that’s not enough. where would they actually live? i was thinking, maybe in this au the nuns run a local orphanage and they all live there. obviously pan wouldn’t be happy there, so he’d cause even more trouble i think, but i think wendy would be even more miserable there. she probably doesn’t know why, but for some reason, she’s just always on edge and somewhat scared around pan and his “friends” (are they even friends??? who’s to say?). ofc it’d be because of their past on neverland but none of them would know that and idk. i just think it’d be a fun dynamic.

anyway- i feel like felix, devin and wendy would keep their own names in storybrooke, but idk what tink and pan would be called.

well. hm. maybe tink would get something something like Kelly Bell? kelly because green (which is what the blue fairy called her) and bell bc. yk. tinkerBELL. not exactly the most creative name, but it’s a start ig. idk- shdjjdkdjf

pan might get his name malcolm back and maybe he’d just be malcolm pan- even if that’s kinda a weird last name. or maybe pan and rumple’s cursed selves would be related just like their original selves, just in a different way ofc- so maybe he’d be malcolm gold? but then what would the relation actually be?

i think it’d be funny if it was just the other way around - like malcolm is mr gold’s “son” lmfao. rumple would be SO upset about that when he gets his memories back and it would honestly make the family tree even messier. or maybe it’d be left vague like malcolm is just some distant relative but beyond the name they have nothing in common? that would have potential too but it feels like a more distant idea so idk shdkbskfhf

and one more thing. rufio and hook would ofc not be there in storybrooke, since we all know that hook was with cora and rufio is presumed dead, but maybe they would be present in some cursed memories? like the lost boys have memories of a guy who used to be a classmate of theirs or even a friend called rufio who eventually died because of a one handed drunk driver lol. obviously when they’d get asked about the details no one would quite know, just like always with the curse. but snippets like that could be there. maybe pan would remember some sailor he talked to vaguely and maybe he’d even recognise hook, but he also couldn’t recall any details. also the sailor part would fit bc storybrooke does actually have docks and the like. idk i think the curse giving them such funky and fuzzy memories has potential too. especially if the timeline got changed even more so that maybe hook and cora end up in storybrooke before the curse is even broken. wouldn’t that be fun?

[birdiewriteslit]

“driving me crazy”

eddie roundtree x fem!reader

you and eddie have never gotten along. is it because you hate each other, or is it because you’re both to proud to admit something?

enemies to lovers😏😏 also idk how long this is bc tumblr doesn’t have a word count smh but it is longer than my other stuff

warning: making out at the end (spoiler lol), suggestive

part 2

EDDIE: Y/n, man. That woman is no joke. We hated each other, at least for a while.

Y/N: He was always such an ass to me. Eddie, I mean. I really hated him. (pause) Until I didn’t.

The burning hatred Eddie felt for you started the day you auditioned for the band. Chuck had just left for school, and Eddie wanted to move from rhythm guitar to bass.

Like always, Billy shut down his request and decided to let people audition for the position. In his words, he wanted someone to “earn it.”

Eddie was already irritated from seeing Billy act like the previous performances were better than what he could do, so you can imagine how he felt when one actually was.

The last audition of the day. You strode up the driveway, big sunglasses over your eyes, sporting jeans and a tight tank top, but definitely not a smile.

Eddie just knew. There was no way he was getting that spot. Your playing didn’t even shock him. Of course, it was fantastic. Just great.

After that, it was all cold stares and angry glares. He wanted to make it very clear that he didn’t like you. He made a considerable effort to stay out of your way. He wouldn’t speak to you, look at you, or even think about you. Well, he tried very hard not to.

One night, a few weeks after your admission, you fell into step with him as he walked home after a rehearsal that ran long. He was moderately surprised by this and figured you would go away if he just ignored you.

You didn’t. You pulled out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. “Have a light?” you asked.

He furrowed his brows, trying to figure out what you were doing. After a moment, he nodded, pulled out his lighter, and lit your cigarette.

“Thanks,” you said. “So, is there any reason why you hate being around me?”

He was so taken aback that he stopped walking. “Sorry?”

You looked at him from over your sunglasses. It made him sort of angry that you were wearing them at nine p.m. when it was pitch black.

“You gonna answer the question?”

“Yes, there are many reasons.” Bullshit. There was only one and, honestly, it wasn’t a very solid one.

You said nothing and walked back up to him, removing the cigarette from your mouth and putting it out on his denim jacket, burning the material.

Eddie was more bewildered than mad when you pushed the glasses to the top of your head and smiled at him like you’d just done him a very nice favor. He never noticed your eye color before then, or how it looked in the moonlight.

“By the way, that jacket really reminds me of Billy.”

Okay, now he knew he was mad. He struggled to come up with a comeback and just moved his mouth in a stupid way that made you laugh when you left him standing there.

EDDIE: She knew exactly what she was doing. She’s always been good at that, making me mad on purpose.

Y/N: It was really funny. He doesn’t think so, but I was laughing about that for days.

The two of you continued throwing insults at each other for the months leading up to LA. Eddie’s favorite thing to do was comment on every mistake you made, much to everyone’s dismay.

He was just jealous of your abilities and, deep down, he admired them. You always knew just what to say back to him, adding unnecessary fuel to the fire.

More than once Billy had to yell at you to stop fighting. You both would resort to sending each other hateful looks and crude hand gestures for the rest of practice.

Driving to California was the real hell. Being cooped up in that van with Eddie for that long made you restless.

If it weren’t for Camila holding you back, there would’ve been several times where you launched yourself at him.

It was so nice to have another girl around. Camila was a good mediator for the two of you. You missed that when you went on tour.

Karen also knew how to break up a fight, but sometimes she would let you hash it out for the fun of it. Not like you minded, she probably knew how much fun you had while messing with Eddie.

Soon enough, things went downhill. Camila had the baby, which was good. Julia was such a sweet baby. Billy went to rehab, which was also good, for him and his family, but bad for the band.

The tour was canceled. A lot of money was lost. It was not a very fun time.

You sympathized with Billy. He had been going through a lot, and you understood how hard it was for somebody to recover from that level of drug abuse. Addiction was a gene that seemed to run in your family, with your mother being absent for most of your life and your father having to pick up the pieces.

Billy and Camila were the only people who knew about it. You didn’t think the others needed to know when none of them could relate to your situation.

Eddie didn’t understand. He went on and on about how bad of a guy Billy was. It made you furious the way he implied that Camila should leave him.

The rest of your fights were petty compared to the one you had on the day Billy got out of rehab. Eddie started complaining about Billy’s nerve or something along those lines. You flipped out. You told him he had no idea what he was talking about and stormed out of the room.

That shut him up. He stared blankly at the door you just walked out of and thanked God that it had only been the two of you in the room before.

He was relieved that no one else heard what he said because realized he was being childish. Even though he hated Billy he should still be proud of what he overcame.

He rushed out of the room to find you locked in the bathroom. He knocked once, twice, three times before a sharp, “What?” came from the other side of the door.

“Y/n, come out and let me talk to you.”

He heard your muffled scoff. “You’ve said enough.”

“I want to apologize.”

He couldn’t see it, but your eyebrows rose involuntarily. You undid the lock and opened the door. Your arms were folded over your chest as you nodded at him. “Keep going.”

“I’m sorry I said all that crap about Billy. It’s been a rough time for him. For all of us,” he said, sounding genuine.

This was shocking to you. He had never apologized to you for anything he said, even if it happened to be cruel and borderline disrespectful. He had this vulnerable look on his face that made you feel like you could tell him things.

“I’m not just upset about Billy,” you admitted. “This whole thing just reminds me of my life growing up. You don’t know this about me, but my mom was not the best at, well, being a mom. Unlike Billy, family wasn’t enough to pull her out.”

You weren’t sure what he was going to say. Then, he said nothing and pulled you close to his chest. His arms were around your shoulders, and you hesitated to hug him back.

He smelled of pine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from inhaling his scent. You stayed like that for a few minutes, until you heard the front door open and sprang apart.

Warren and Graham announced their arrival, and Eddie cleared his throat before joining them in the kitchen. Now it was you who stood alone in bewilderment.

EDDIE: This girl that hated me was trusting me with something, and I didn’t even know why. That was the first time I saw her for the woman she was, and not for the competition she used to be. As it turns out, I didn’t really hate that woman.

After that debacle, things were kind of weird between you and Eddie. He would still act like a dick, but in a different way.

Instead of, “Wow, could you be any worse at this?” he would say, “Wow, could you look any hotter right now?” He used the same douchebag tone for each, but his comments became flirtatious as time went on.

You usually had a witty retort to fire back at him, but there were some times that his words left you flustered and unable to think properly.

Karen noticed this first, giving you a questioning look from the other side of the studio. You waved her off and rolled your eyes at the thought of Eddie seriously flirting with you.

Warren and Graham caught on next, teasing him about it whenever they got the chance. He denied all allegations of being into you.

You refused to acknowledge Camila’s allegations either. The dynamic you shared with him now was different, but you kind of liked it. You would never admit it though, wanting to keep up the illusion that you still hated his guts.

Eddie walked into the kitchen and grabbed a muffin from the table you sat at. “Morning, smokeshow.” He smirked as he looked back at you from over his shoulder while crossing the room to the fridge.

“Shut up, Eddie,” you said with a mouth full of cereal. Shamefully, you felt heat climb into your cheeks.

He snickered as he sat down across from you. “Really? That’s all you got?”

You swallowed your food and glared at him. “Give me a break. It’s eight in the morning.”

He gave you his signature smile before flipping through the magazine on the table. Karen walked into the kitchen and sent you a knowing look once she saw you and Eddie being civil.

She made her own breakfast, and took Eddie’s seat when he left. “So, anything interesting happen recently?”

“Besides having a hit single, not much. I do really like that Daisy girl, though.”

Karen stared at you blankly. “You know what I’m talking about.”

You placed your fingers to your temples and closed your eyes. “I sense something brewing between Karen Karen and Graham the Man. Nothing else between any other band members, so it would be pointless to ask.”

She laughed. “I sense nothing of the sort. I’m letting Camila deal with you. I just can’t anymore.”

Y/N: Looking back on it, we were pretty insufferable.

With Billy and Daisy writing songs by themselves, you and the others had some time to kill. Karen and Graham were off at the beach while you hung back with Warren and Eddie.

They really loved Rollerball. Either that or they were really high. You were willing to bet on the latter.

By the third showing, you didn’t fail to notice how close Eddie had gotten to you. His arm brushed against yours, and he leaned his head close to yours.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, moving away from him and bringing your arm off of the armrest.

He frowned and folded his arms over his chest. Both of you knew something just happened, but refused to acknowledge it. The tension in the air was thick.

Once back at the house, you went to your room immediately. You planned on calling Camila and bothering her with questions about what all these shenanigans with Eddie mean.

What you didn’t expect was Eddie following you into your room and closing the door behind him.

You glanced up from the phone. “What are you doing? Get out, I’m busy.”

The phone rang twice before Camila picked up. “What are we?” Eddie asked. You hung up before she could get a word out.

“What are you talking about?”

He looked more annoyed than he did angry, but the tone of his voice suggested otherwise. “Well, one second you’re rubbing up against me in a movie theater and the other you’re acting all pissed about it.”

You physically cringed. “‘Rubbing up against you?’ That is not what happened.”

“Then what about all those times you tell me I’m hot, huh?”

“You’re the one who initiates that!” you said exasperatedly. “All I do is respond. If you’re trying to insinuate that I flirt with you, then that’s all you.”

He marched up to you until he was mere feet away. “You’re so hot and cold that it drives me insane. Do you want me or not?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Pretty bold of you to assume I would want you.”

He made a wild gesture with his hands and ran one over his face. “You’re exhausting. You make me so mad, and I hate that I like you.”

“Shut up, you don’t like me. We hate each other.”

“Oh, my God, you don’t get it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I think about you. All the time. When I see a stupid joke in a magazine, I think of you. When I hear a John Denver song, I think of you. You drive me fucking crazy, Y/n! People who hate each other don’t think about each other like this, don’t act like this. I like you, for God’s sake.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You listen to John Denver?”

“That’s all you have to say?” He tried sounding angry but he was laughing too.

“I thought you were a rockstar.” You mocked him by holding up two ‘rock on’ hand signs.

“You don’t even care about the sentiment.” He rolled his eyes.

“Be quiet.” You were smiling when you kissed him, cupping his face while his arms snaked around your back.

You tangled both hands in his hair as he deepened the kiss by tilting his head and letting his tongue enter your mouth.

Your fingers messed up his hair before moving down to tug on his shirt collar, pulling him impossibly close.

He tapped your thigh and pulled his lips from yours to whisper, “Jump.”

You complied. He held onto your back with one hand as the other gripped your thigh while your legs wrapped around his waist.

Your hands came back up to rake through his hair, tugging it softly. He continued kissing you feverishly as he made his way to your bed. He almost dropped you when he lowered your body to it.

He climbed onto the bed and hovered over you, kissing down your neck while you gripped his shirt.

“It’s quiet,” Karen said, sitting on the couch, no longer hearing the near screaming match happening in your bedroom.

“Too quiet,” Graham agreed. Warren stood up and pressed his ear to the door, his mouth dropping open.

“Guys, I think they’re boning in there.”

“Warren, please refrain from saying ‘boning.’”

[daouoffroads]

I just don't understand how you like S*l? He is actually right up there with T**g for being the worst. There is nothing good about him, sorry.

i don't understand the wild and weird hate against sol (or even remotely comparing him to tong) but here we are, anon. like if joe out right saying sol is a good person can't convince ya'll... idk why you're asking me?

anyway... you asked for my thoughts and opinions, so you shall receive.

sol is just a really interesting dude to me. he's just some guy that i think is really neat. he's a thai kpop idol and FAMOUS famous but he isn't like tong about it. he's kind and just a really good-hearted person. he's the sunny type, cheerful, caring, and loyal to his friends. like joe, sol is a sunflower in the toxic showbiz world msi is set in.

(tbh i see him and ming, who is also a fascinating character, as kind of two sides of the same "rich and famous" coin. ming is cold, aloof, calculating with walls as high as elon crust's ego is inflated. and then there is sol, open and kind-hearted. which is exactly why he and joe hit it off. funny though, ming and sol are petty but like on completely opposite ends of the petty spectrum.)

after lovingly bugging @zhouxiangs for novel spoilers i really wished the series had touched more on sol and joe's history instead of just a few throwaway lines here and there because sol's story ;3; my smol bean of a son. (and this is where media literacy and nuance comes in :D but y'all barely have any of that.)

joe and sol were very close . they ate, trained, and slept (sleeping type of slept lol) together. they did everything together. and then sol found out joe was gay (in the novel sol was also struggling with his sexuality) and then joe confessed to sol. joe liked sol first (not this weird warped reality y'all are living in where sol has been obsessing over joe). but anyway, sol was young and scared and dumb. he was afraid of being taken advantage of and also of his own feelings for joe and he ran away. joe got over it and never held it against him.

while in korea, it seemed that sol struggled to connect with people and went through some tough times as a trainee (i'm quoting from porsche's interview) and he realized his true feelings for joe so when he had the chance to return to thailand he took it and he sought out joe to reconnect. as a friend, as more.

was he supposed to have some sort of psychic link with joe that he was already seeing someone? obviously not. but when joe made it clear he liked ming, sol backed off romantically. he didn't back off as a friend though. (idk about y'all friendless gremlins but if one of my close friends was in the situationship from hell that joe was in... i'd also try and make them see reason, open their eyes. like sol once having feelings for joe does not diminish his friendship with joe. at all. (yes the scene of joe and sol in the van in ep 6 means everything to me. joe and sol were friends, brothers even. and that scene showed it.)

fyi, novel sol recognized joe too :D

ANYWAY, it was interesting to see the change in sol after joe's death. he isn't his usual cheerful self, but he's still kind and polite if a bit more reserved. and i for one love the cattiness with ming he has going on? LEAVE MING ALONE i see y'all shouting but me I WANT HIM TO PUNCH MING IN THE NUTS ONCE (if y'all can project, so can i) like ming deserves to catch a bit of shit from sol (his 'khun chai ming' sent meeee), since his and tong's bullshit directly contributed to the death of his best friend.

is sol perfect? no. (the fight with ming where joe got hurt. or the phone call scene that resulted in joe effectively being cut out of sol's life. again.) but are any of these characters perfect? absolutely not.

sol though is strangely villainized and for what? because he's trying to help and protect his friend (and is maybe being snotty with ming but... deserved tbh lol)? because he might be feeling a little righteous and fafo with the guy who took his friend away from him? because he once had feelings for joe but then redirected them into being a decent human and a good friend?

sponsored by: @zhouxiangs and porsche/lotte interview with iqiyi.

[megaderping]

Adachi is such an interesting character because I think a lot of his worst kinds of fans are the type who like... see themselves in him and thinks that's a good thing and who talk about how he was right, but that absolutely doesn't sum up every person who likes him, and I think that's something that people forget in the greater fan discourse. Adachi is meant to represent a lot of things to Persona 4's narrative. He is a byproduct of many toxic aspects of Japanese work culture. The idea that hard work will get you a stable life with a good job and a steady future. Adachi internalized this, and yet he got sent to this hick town with nothing to do over one escape. His refusal to form meaningful connections with others in favor of nihilism and a desire to just watch the world burn is meant to be a cautionary tale. If you see yourself in Adachi, the game asks you to reflect and consider that there are still things worth living for. It's also a lesson he ultimately gets. He is the one who urges the Investigation Team to pursue the real truth, and his arc in Ultimax is great because while he's still not a great person, he also has grown enough that even if he's still mean as shit, he entrusts the future to Yu and the Investigation. He just wants to go back to jail, play by the rules, and face justice, whatever form it takes, and instead he's dragged into more supernatural bullshit and has to deal with Sho. He's forced to confront who he was in the past, and he hates what he sees, and he hates that Sho is assuming the exact same kinda mindset that got his ass kicked in the end. And all of this is fantastic, but then I look at the kinda fans who talk up Adachi as if he's this great person and use him as a means to shit on fans of, say, Akechi without even trying to understand the cultural context or distinctly different role he plays in his narrative. It's not good to strawman Adachi or Akechi fans and the weird beef between the audiences of both characters annoys the shit out of me because they both have their own meanings and critiques of Japanese culture. And, y'know, people can like different characters for different reasons. I feel like a lot of this could be resolved if people were just polite and more open to discussion instead of making assumptions about why people like certain characters. Because Adachi's misogyny is definitely reflected in a lot of the kinds of fans who will actively shit on the female characters and female Persona fans, but I've met some genuinely kind fans of the character who just find him compelling for the disaster that he is and the interesting role he works as a foil to the Investigation Team. You never know why a character is someone's fav until you talk to them, and aggression doesn't help facilitate good discussions. Idk. Just a random thought, I guess.

[isa-ghost]

(BTW I'm very down with wanting sapnap being dead for being sapnap I just wanted to be sure I was hip qirh the kids and pissed for the Correct reason)

DLSKFLSJFSKF SORRY I WAS OUT TOUCHING GRASS WHEN YOU SENT ME YOUR FIRST ANON.

Also in hindsight I worded this answer like you have 0 clue who Shartnap is but I'm gonna keep it that way for anyone who sees this and Doesn't Go Here At All.

Here's a good overview post abt Crapnap from my friend.

This Specific Instance we're wishing death upon him more than the default amount because he's participating in Squidcraft, a Latino-made/hosted and primarily Latino-played Minecraft competition with a big cash prize. (Aka that irrelevant ass sweaty ass racist Texan is literally only playing to win more money he doesn't need. He also won last year's SC 🙄). Last year there were a few non-Latino players (like him), but this year there were a BUNCH, most likely thanks to the existence of QSMP. There were Americans, Brits, and French just to name a few!

My mutual @pixiecaps has been the most outspoken on my dash about the dumbshit being in Squidcraft, so I'll tag them here and they can add any additional context they see fit in the reblogs or replies. They might have insight or perspective that I don't bc they're Latino and I'm not. 👍🏻 And this was baby's first Squidcraft for me purely bc QSMP members were in it, so idk much abt previous ones whereas Pix might.

It's annoying enough that Crapnap is in the competition at all, but yesterday a bunch of other previous DSMP members (Philza, Tubbo, Foolish, to name a few) all died in one of the games together and were thus eliminated. Shatnap's petty nobody poopy ass was literally CHEERING when they all died, which is poor sportsmanship for one (he has none tho let's be real here), and two: No Toxicity is one of the competition rules. So by all means, he should be investigated by the Squidcraft mods and (hopefully) disqualified for his bullshit.

And some additional context bc my guess is this all plays into why he was so outwardly toxic like that: Tubbo has outspokenly hated the Dr*m Team for a while now. He also had direct beef with Shatnap bc the dumbfuck tried migrating to Kick (basically Twitch for bigots & predators, to say the least).

AND, most relevant and recent: Philza was just on Tommy and Jack Manifold's podcast Shut Up I'm Talking about a week ago, and on the Patreon version of the episode the three of them talked about how Dr*m is a piece of shit, they all hate him, and how nasty and weird he was behind the scenes during DSMP, especially to Tommy.

Dr*m Team 100% knows this was all said, bc a) some of it was clipped ofc and b) Dr*m fucking posted the DSMP world download as damage control after people started talking abt what was said on the episode bc god forbid he look bad and get negative attention for 2 seconds. He's been begged by numerous people for LITERALLY LIKE 3 YEARS to drop the world download and only JUST did it to do damage control and make himself look all good and innocent or At Least distract people (spoiler alert: didn't work, he just made himself look even more pathetic. He basically gave the people who correctly hate him a gift in addition to clowning on him).

Shartnap literally lives with Dr*m, so there's no way he doesn't know Tommy, Jack & Phil have spoken some of the truth TECHNICALLY PRIVATELY. IT WAS ON PATREON BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Soooo yeah. As usual, Dr*m Team fucking sucks ass (many such cases, no one is surprised). Crapnap is the ""last remaining"" of the Dr*m Team to not have some Extreme horrific controversy and that's what keeping him able to be in competitions like this, rather than isolated to a shitty corner with the other two dumbfucks. (CLARIFICATION: He DOES have controversies. You can assume what some of them are based off of things said in that post I linked. Plus the Kick thing. But in comparison to Dr*m [a groomer, among other things], and George [sexual predator, among other things], Shatnap is ""the least awful"" of them, which is almost definitely why he's still ""welcome"" in competitions like this one).

Additional silly context: I'm calling him variations of shit because he openly admitted sometime earlier this year that he shit himself (or at least sharted) on stream.

[the-good-bad-truth]

The Pregnancy announcement

I just want to start off by saying at the end of the day these people, this “lovely” couple are having a baby. But also, they choose to make their relationship our business, so I’m going to talk about it. If you disagree then whatever.  Scroll past this.

First I think it’s quite odd that she chose to announce it in that way with black goo and all that. Most pregnant women and celebrities would do something more cutesy, motherly vibes but it's Megan, so I guess you know. I know she had a miscarriage and all that, but I don’t get why she chose to use that caption. I’m not into spirituality like that but isn’t that like putting bad juju on your pregnancy by saying it’s the baby that committed “Su****e” last time. Idk. Her words not mine.

Also why are we having a baby with someone you don’t see marrying or you have no intentions of ever getting married, or being too scared to tell us the status of your relationship even tho for years you would give us all the private details down to how the table saw things and cutting holes in ur clothes to yk.  She does realize this means she will be stuck with this “demonic” creature for the rest of her life. If we also look back at their relationship, they have broken up at least 20 times in the almost 6 years they were together. Not exactly the most stable environment for a child but ok.  They also got engaged for like 8 months then the ring was never spotted again. They didn’t even confirm it until like a whole year later and she was very vague about it. Talking about how their relationship is not for public consumption but yet you get the public fed with headlines for years. And are we forgetting her whole temper tantrum where she used a SEX TRAFFICKING poster to get back at him and ALLOWED for one of his band members to be SLUT shamed for a WHOLE week before saying something and when she did it was all OUR fault. Ok. Even at the early stages of their relationship, like I’m talking only two months together, they were referring to each other as twin flames, tatts but yet praying to a tree, A TREE to take a storm away so they can spend a couple hours together before they would have to separate for like 2 weeks cuz they said if they didn’t, they would break up.

She has filled his head with lies and bullshited him throughout the whole relationship through public interviews, captions, and hate poems. Don't you remember Megan how you wrote poems insinuating that he forced you to wear a short skirt, had his hand around the back of your neck and is a narcissist not exactly father of your future children material. Right? I wouldn't even be surprised if this pregnancy was her idea, and she knew she could guilt trip him into having a baby. Is that not Coercion or? I don’t understand why she would do that unless her intention was to trap him because remember he is only like a year sober, he might be thinking of leaving his past, all of it.  She is an emotionally abusive person, but we all have to play DELULU otherwise we are not part of EST. Take a look a her and Brian’s relationship and how they would break, file for divorce and then she would end up pregnant. Maybe this is how she knows or thinks of keeping them.

If I’m being honest he’s never going to win a grammy. He’s just not and I fear that this baby is going to stop him from even trying to attempt to achieve that dream. That's why he got in a relationship, y'all do realize because she was the Transformers baddie that would give an ego boost and also help him promote his music. His thing, his purpose is to make music, to create art. It is where he flourishes the most and I would argue the happiest with the exception of Casie. And even then he would combine the two having her own stage with him and sharing songs with her. That is their thing. Casie is the muse; the reason he wants to achieve greatness is to prove to his daughter that she has an amazing and talented father. I have my suspicions that she wants to have a girl to maybe take some of that from Casie, but idk.

I think they will last maybe and I’m being generous for ¾ years, possibly. One because this baby that they will claim is made out of love will make or break them. He is either going to have to sacrifice going on tour and opportunities to stay and change diapers. Which I don't really see him trying to slow down at all, in fact I think it will just motivate him even more or cling on to whenever Megan will criticizes for his parenting styles. Do they even have similar parenting styles. The other option is he will distance himself from her to focus on his career like he wants to and choose to co-parent but that will piss her off. And I feel she will make up narratives of how he is a bad parent not directly but then again who knows. Did she not blast Brian for posting a picture of his own son. She can and will play the victim. Always. That the greatest role of her life to play woe is me, fame is a prison, the world is against me, misogyny and mean feminist, they don't understand my humor.

Also pay attention to how she names it. It might be something that is either rock, gothic, dark aesthetic. She wants an aesthetic baby so that these fan pages of hers can edit or whatever and say OMG Imagine saying your are MGK and THE Megan fox, WOW! The GeNeTiCs.

For Colson. Oh Colson. Good luck to you brother. You going need it. But if you are not too busy maybe you can release or at least try to work on the Rap album you promised us for over a year now.

 Xoxo the good bad truth

[batsplat]

bat splat thank youuu for saying the pecco jorge rivalry is just for pecco as opposed to having the specter of Vale hanging over it. I want to ask tho, I have been seeing people say the only reason pecco wins the race is because he copies jorge's setup throughout friday/saturday/Sprint. Wanted your opinion on this because I have also heard that Pecco gives decent engineering input and builds his race slowly over the weekend. Was just confused about how much data sharing can actually help, and how much does it help with the ducati specifically!! Have a nice day, love your posts

have a good day too, anon!! and I will gladly spread the pecco narrative independence agenda!! it's something I really do like about the rivalry - expanded a bit in the comments under this, but it's neat to have something that really is Just Pecco's. from inception it's very much his own rivalry, his own narrative... idk, this sport is too reliant on valentino to provide any kind of narrative tension, and it's just sort of refreshing to see this multi-year narrative play out that has fuck all to do with that guy. enough

on the set-up copying, obviously that is bullshit. I mean, to be clear, I'm sure pecco absolutely copies the set-ups of other ducati riders, but that's very much a mutual process - it's something that benefits all the ducati riders, and they've all openly spoken about this. it's very helpful to be able to see the data from seven other riders!! that's a big part of why ducati has been so bloody good!! the main difference is that jorge tends to be faster from the start of the weekend, whereas pecco tends to take time to reach his level. which I suppose makes some people draw the conclusion that pecco is only fast once he's copied someone's set-up. again, this isn't the case - it is just a difference in approaches. points come... well, unfortunately, not just on sunday anymore, but they certainly do not come on a friday. pecco knows this, which is also why sometimes he's not even trying to top an fp1 session - this year there have been quite a few instances of jorge but not pecco throwing on a fresh set of tyres towards the end of fp1 and setting a particularly impressive lap time. there's also nothing wrong with THAT approach, jorge is playing to his strengths, but at a certain point we're just talking different run plans

(there is also a very obvious logical fallacy with this line of reasoning. if you are copying someone's set-up, then by definition you have the same set-up as them. and if you beat someone with the same set-up, then it stands to reason that you were riding better than them. sure, you can argue the success is less earned because your team... idk, just lazed around all weekend, but at the end of the day surely you still cannot be a bad rider if you are getting more out of another rider's set-up than they themselves are able to manage)

and yeah, pecco is known for giving good feedback! just being a good learner in general. here, actually, a little throwback from start of 2019 where pecco's crew chief gabarrini (who also ofc has worked with casey, lorenzo and briefly with marc) compared pecco and marc:

"A driver - all of them do this - starts at a certain level and ends the day at a higher level. What makes the difference is starting again where you were. Few have this quality: it often happens that a driver sets good times - without knowing why, without being aware of how he got there. The 'good' ones, on the other hand, have this characteristic: they achieve a result and know why they did it," explained the chief technician. Gabarrini even goes so far as to compare the MotoGP rookie with the current world champion: "I saw this quality in Márquez: I was with him when he made his debut in the MotoGP World Championship. His ability to not forget what he had learned impressed me. Once he had understood an aspect of the riding style, the set-up or any other thing to be faster, he had it in him forever. Pecco also has this quality." "In Valencia we started with a base similar to the one Lorenzo used: on paper it suited Bagnaia, based on what you could understand when you saw him riding a Moto2 bike. From then on, the normal changes to the set-up were made so that he could ride the bike as he liked. In the meantime, Pecco has worked enormously to adapt his style to the Ducati."

and there you have it - pecco's good at progressively getting better at stuff, including over the course of the weekend. as for the set-up copying thing, partly it's just typical competitive paranoia (even though it feels like the fans are currently doing it more than the riders). back in the day, valentino and jorge used to have the world's dumbest arguments about this every other week. led to one of my all time fave messy jb moments:

god I miss that guy so badly. they don't do ride-or-die like that anymore

the point is that both sides were engaging in pretty silly mudslinging, just kind of for the vibes of it. valentino/jb trying to get under jorge's skin and jorge a bit more earnestly aggrieved. as ever, if you want to read more about how that particular era of jorge/valentino unfolded, see here. this is just to say, this kind of faffing about is a tale as old as time and it's always a bit silly... you had jorge say that it was impossible for them anyway to copy each other's data in the very same answer as he accused valentino of copying his set-up. like, I'm sorry, I am not going to take this seriously. a lot of sports is about having dumb arguments

and yeah, again, pecco does gradually build up his level over the weekend. more of a valentino than a casey, it's fair to say. and that'll hurt him in the sprint format - which I talked about a bit recently while going through casey's latest interview about how sprints are satan's providence:

so yeah, casey thinks that if anything there isn't enough time to work on set-up, and mat oxley thinks it's rubbish to say pecco relies on sprint data to be better on sunday. (as I said in that post, I do find it fun if unsurprising that casey is so virulently anti-sprints, because you'd think a lot of aspects of the format - including less time for everyone for working on set-ups - really would have suited him. keeping it real.) so on the whole... y'know. maybe he just gets better over the course of the weekend. it's been known to happen. there's actually some pretty significant ways in which the current version of the sport isn't all that pecco-friendly, from the shitty michelin front tyre we're keeping for another year to the sprint format we appear to be stuck with. it's just that he also happens to be on the best bike - and the fact that he's winning a lot but simultaneously isn't highly rated by fans makes people want to believe that the current series is 100% ideal for him

a lot of fans are loathe to admit pecco might actually be a good rider so they'll find basically everything to justify that prior. including getting into increasingly conspiratorial territory. but my actual take is this - if pecco has been gaming the system so expertly that he is somehow the only guy able to take full advantage of everyone else's data, so shrewd and cunning that he can spread magic dust on his bike so that he suddenly leaps ahead of jorge, such a dastardly operator that he can steal the set-up that poor jorge perfected on friday morning to fix his bike five minutes before the sunday race, then... good. I support it. I hope he's cheating. the more unearned the success is, the better in my books. long live corporate espionage and foul play

[just-some-random-blogger]

10 Second Elder

The Blonde Boys Club

Daemon Targaryen x Sorceress!Reader, Geralt of Rivia & Sister!Reader

Summary: Yeah, so your twin tried to kill Caraxes and now you have to convince his rider, the mother fucking Prince, that it was all a misunderstanding (it was not).

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: THE ONLY INCEST IN THIS IS THE CANON TARGARYEN INCEST ALRD IN HOTD OTHERWISE MISS ME WITH THAT BULLSHIT, fem!reader, witcher!twins, reader is kinda a witcher lol, I describe reader's hair and eye color, crack fic, typos, etc.

A/N: I JUST GOT A BUNCH OF IDEAS FOR THESE BLONDES AND OTHER FICTIONAL BLONDES PLEASE IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ??? SERIES???? (dont quote me on that, idk what it is) ASKFL:AFHALS:F. AND SHHH whatever plothole you have for the witcher!twins, just, just, roll with it i beg also I'm tagging @lexi-anastasia HI!! i actually thought of this prompt cos of your display pic. IDK IF YOU EVEN LIKE hotd but i hope you like this for the witcher!twins LOL I'm also tagging @avaleineandafryingpan because they reblogged my the blonde boys club post T_T (mahal kita) and of course @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda P2 "Dry Humor"

Geralt had smelt it in the air before anything else. He had his bow in his hand, drawn and ready. His stance was low. The steps he took against the leaf covered ground barely made a sound.

He straightened himself up when he saw an opening and pulled his arrow all the way.

When a gust of wind blew, he inhaled deeply, now certain of his opponent. A dragon.

Geralt inhaled deeply as the beast shifted in the spot it was laying. He saw the saddle on it, scoffing. Suddenly things were clearer as to why a dragon would be out in the open, so exposed. It was also clear that whoever the rider was did not care about how their ride had ravaged the nearby farm and village.

He knew his arrow would barely injure the creature, if it could pierce its skin at all, and yet he shot at its curled neck anyway.

No avail. The thing didn't even flinch.

Geralt purses his lips as he redraws his weapon. The dragon shifts again and this time, Geralt's golden eyes see an opening, quite literally an opening by the rib, just below the saddle.

The sound of the string tensing fills the witcher's ears. He narrows his eyes as he adjusts in his spot to further assess the wound, as well as to properly get an opening.

He notes how the injury was a not new, and yet it was still healing. He tries to listen in on the heartbeat, but even with how large it was, it was still too far for him to hear anything.

He withdraws a bit of tension from his bow, enough for it to still reach the dragon, but only to cause it discomfort, not really to reopen its wound, to rile the beast up enough for it to want to leave with its rider.

Geralt draws in a deep breath and releases it along with his arrow.

The dragon roars and rises from its place once the arrow hits its side.

Dramatic, if you asked him. Geralt was certain it didn't hurt as much as the thing was making it out to be.

As the dragon whined, Geralt unsheathed his blade and surveyed the area, listening in on the rider that would inevitably come next.

He inches closer to the dragon, by its tail, and soon enough he hears quick footsteps and frantic breathing.

When he turns over his shoulder to the source of the sound, the wound tension in his shoulders relaxes a fraction, then tenses again at the shrill whisper-yell.

"What the fuck did you just do?" I demand, throwing the severed head I had in my grip off to the side as I readied my sword in my hand as I went into a defensive stance, "we came for the monster I already slain."

"This thing is the reason why the village burned."

"And you think you can kill it!?"

"No, but its rider will get the message."

I lower my sword, in utter disbelief of what I was hearing, "you think it has a rider?!"

Geralt narrows his eyes, "It has a rider," he corrects, "I shot at its open wound below its saddle."

"THEN YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!" I seethe, gritting my teeth, raising my sword again. Geralt watches me as I stalk closer to the dragon. I catch the way he knit his brows, and it makes my eyes twitch, "you don't know what it means."

Geralt nears me and I elbow him to the chest, "motherfucker."

All at once, the dragon is alerted by our presence.

The massive creature stands on its legs and growls at us.

I feel him, the dragon. I feel his regality, his tie to his rider, and his distress over the arrow. He knows it was one of us that caused it. He draws in a deep breath, ready to burn us both, along with the entire forest.

I drop my sword and I raise my hand, speaking in the dragon's tongue, "calm yourself."

Geralt measures my reaction and is unconvinced by both the language I am speaking, and the fact I disarmed myself.

"We mean you no harm, your grace," I call out, slowly walking over to the dragon.

He screeches and shakes his head.

"You think it can understand you?" Geralt grunts, tensing his jaw as he brings his weapon higher.

The dragon does not appreciate this one bit.

"Just because you don't doesn't mean he doesn't," I quip.

Geralt does not care and pulls out an elixir from his pocket, quickly downing it.

"You fucking idiot! We are not-"

All at once, a command is shouted, "DRACARYS!"

Without thinking, before fire could leave his jowls, Geralt shoots chaos, causing the dragon's head to shoot up and his fire to burn above overhead.

"LYKIRI!" I repeat the same High Valyrian command to the dragon. As his head downturns, the flames he breathed ceases.

Before I realize what is happening, I hear a man shout out as he charges, "WITCH!"

Geralt blocks my view of the incoming assaulter as well as his sword that was sword meant to slay me, "Witcher."

Their weapons skid against the other's. They are upon each other, attacking aggressively, as though their lives depended on it. The dragon grows, restless in the background.

"GERALT, STOP!" I scream as my brother's silver hair swooshes in the air, as does his equally blonde opponent's. My stomach drops at the sight of him, at the sight of the man who bore all indications of a Targaryen prince.

They charge at each other, stepping forward and back, metal crashing against metal. And for a moment, the long haired prince' anger gave him the upper hand, but I knew how Geralt was evading him; he was pulling his punches, but not for long.

I decide to divert my attention to the distressed dragon, finally seeing his saddle, and the arrow stuck to his side like a thorn he could not get out.

He does not like the fact I am quickly nearing him and snaps his teeth at me.

"Do not be insolent," I quip in High Valyrian at the creature, lifting my head up to him with his hand, "I am here to help you."

I could feel my pulse quicken as I make my way to his side.

I decide it's enough that he has not yet killed me for getting this close to him.

"Calm yourself, boy," I mutter under my breath, as I reach up to the arrow on his side. The dragon does a clicking noise, and I do not have time whether to debate it is a warning or a cry for help.

Without another thought, I pull out the arrow with a grunt. The beast whines then withdraws a long breath. I turn to him as it cranes it neck to do the same to me I drop the arrow coated with his blood in front of him. I raise my hands, "it is done."

"CARAXES, DR-"

"Shut the fuck up."

So that's his name. Now who would be his rider?

I turn to Geralt, whimpering in annoyance and dread. I watch him dig his knee on the man's back as he pulls his arm behind him, causing him to yelp. Caraxes rises at the sight of his overcome rider, screeching just as the prince pants beneath my brother on the ground.

Geralt makes a face and shuts his eyes when dragon spit splatters on his face. He clenches his jaw and mutters, "lyriki, beast."

"You do not even know what that means," I retort, "and get off him."

"You do understand that the only reason why that thing hasn't killed us is because its rider is under my knee."

"FUCK OFF!" the said rider growls.

Caraxes responds to this with yet another ear piercing cry.

Through all this, I suddenly remember the name I was looking for, "Aemon! Aemon. Caraxes' rider is Aemon."

Geralt makes a face, realizing what I meant, "you're telling me this is Aemon Targaryen?"

"Well, do you see anyone else commanding the dra-"

"CARAXES-" breaks into a yelp.

"We are having a discussion," Geralt leans down as he growls.

"Geralt," I quip tightly, "get off him," I step closer to the both of them, "now."

The black of Geralt's eyes begin to fade once I am directly in front of him. I kneel down on his side and meet the telltale violet of the eyes of the prince. They narrow when they meet the violet hue of my own.

"You must forgive my younger brother for his insolence, my prince," I mutter as I swat Geralt by his thigh.

He rolls his eyes and finally gets of his captive, "ah yes, older sister," he mocks.

"Time is time and blood is blood," I retort as I eye him before helping the prince from where he laid.

"I remember," the Witcher mutters, "High Valyrian. An elective."

I smirk as I turn back at him, "one you did not take."

"Yes," he sighs as he stands, motioning to his side, "language of the dragons."

"Old Valyria," I correct as I help the prince, who was catching his breath, rolls over, "the Tar-

"Targaryen," he says, heaving, as he falls to his back. He reaches his hand out to me. I knit my brows at him as his fingers find my cheek.

Geralt looks down at him with contempt, lips curling in disgust, "watch your fingers, prince, or you might lose them."

I grunt, "I've quite had enough of you," I snap, rising to my feet. "You have been insufferable since we got here-"

"You're one to talk, little girl," Geralt eyes me darkly.

I crane towards his, "you do understand the consequences of-" I cut myself off when the prince stands to his feet. I change languages, "he is the prince of the seven kingdoms, heir to the throne."

"You whisper this to me as if I have ever cared, sister," he replies in Elder Speech.

"You should," Aemon responds as he looks between us.

We turn to him.

"You know Elder Speech?" I question, narrowing my brows.

He smirks at me, as he brushes his shoulder off, "an elective," he offers, "though I admit I only understood the word prince and guessed what you were saying." He tilts his head, "it seems my intuition has not failed me yet."

Geralt hums deeply and steps forward, "but it did when you misjudged me and allowed me an opening to strike you."

Aemon lifts his gaze upon my brother, whatever smirk that was on his face fades away.

"Enough!" I grunt, pushing them away with chaos.

A gush of wind rips between them.

My brother, who is used to it, steps back once, but the prince reels back and falls to his hind. I quickly extend my hand out to him and flash a guilty look, "apologies."

He looks at me for a moment before taking my hand, "Daemon."

"What?"

I pull him up as he repeats, "Prince Daemon, son of Prince Baelon, brother of Prince Aemon."

"Ah," I nod as I pull away from him. He steps forward when I do and watches me as I respond, "you are Aemon's nephew. His second rider. I will do well to remember, Prince Daemon."

"Indeed," he mutters with a soft smile.

I am pulled back by my arm and wind up crashing against Geralt's armor.

I look up at him he roughly swats the white streaks of my black hair away from my face that consequently was flying up to his because of the wind. He warns me in Nilfgaardian, "focus."

"Do not speak to me as though it is you who has a plan to get us out of this mess," I quip back in the same tongue.

"It would be easy to kill him and make it look like an accident."

I roll my eyes and shake my head.

"So, you are a witch," Daemon cuts in, making both of us turn to him.

"Witcher."

"Sorceress," I correct as I pull away from my brother.

"And what house do you belong to?" the prince asks, tenting his hands before him.

Just then, the dragon who we seemed to have forgotten, makes himself known and cries out to his master.

Daemon raises a dismissive hand and swats his away, sparing him only a second's glace. My brother and I watch as Caraxes huffs and rolls into himself, closing his eyes without another care.

Interesting.

"Kaer Morhen," I say, although questioningly, as I turn to my brother, "perhaps for me, I suppose, Aretuza."

"But Vesemir gave you your name as well."

"Yes, well, in that case, I do su-"

"And who are your parents?" Daemon interjects, tone less curious, and more impatient.

"Now that is the question indeed," Geralt grunts, then once again when I elbow him roughly.

"He's being serious."

"I know he's being serious, look at him."

"Why do you ask, prince?" I shake my head, stepping towards the said man.

Daemon examines me intently, so much so that, had I not been used to such scrutiny, I would have broken eye contact in discomfort. "Your eyes," he trails off as he peers down upon me, "are Targaryen's."

"Ah," my jaw drops. I find a chuckle leave me. "Much like his white hair is," I say, pointing to Geralt. I snort and slap a hand on his arm, "brother, you never told me we were secretly royalty."

He hums, nostrils flaring, "slipped my mind."

I chuckle to myself as I turn back to the prince. I watch as his jaw clenches and will my amusement to evaporate with my sigh, "tis not royalty that made our features so, prince Daemon, but the cruelty of magic. My own hair burns with white streaks because of his," I say.

"And what good is that knowledge to him?" Geralt makes a face as he turns to me.

"Well," I turn back to him, "he asked, did he not?"

"He did not ask you about your hair, any more than his dragon did."

"This is exactly why you have no friends."

"And you say that as though it is a bad thing."

"And you two are blood siblings?" Daemon cuts yet again.

We turn to him.

A moment passes.

The insinuation of the idea we could be anything else with our dynamic brings the familiar shiver down our spines.

"It gets no less revolting through time," Geralt mutters, "much less, knowing the traditions of his house."

I ignore his comment as I clear my throat, "twins, your grace, and I the el-."

Daemon ignores me, averting his attention to Geralt now, "you mention the traditions my house, and yet it seems you are unaware of how it is in my nature to seek satisfaction."

"Hmm," Geralt's brows quirk, "I would too, if my arse got handed to me."

I step in between them before Daemon could lunge. Because of this, I am trapped between the chests of the two hot headed blondes.

"Move," Geralt warns me, although his eyes do not leave Daemon.

"My prince," I ignore him, grabbing onto the fabric Daemon's arms, "you must forgive my baby brother."

Daemon dryly scoffs, eyes not leaving Geralt, "he'll have to get on his knees, my dear."

"You mean my soft belly-"

I shut him up with a gesture and heave, "it is a misunderstanding that we find ourselves in."

Daemon watches as Geralt struggles; he is unable to open his lips.

The prince's eyes finally turn back to me, they glimmer with mischief, "a misunderstanding, you say."

"I should like to treat you to a pint, if you would allow me the honor, so that I may... explain our predicament," I offer a soft smile. I feel my brother move from behind me, and so I shove him away with chaos, lest he shove me away to batter the prince in silence.

Daemon watches as Geralt propels back and hits a tree. By then, my incantation is lifted and so a string of curses leave his lips.

"That depends on whether or not your twin will be joining us."

"If you would prefer only one of us to drink with you, then I shall make it happen."

"Like hell, you would!"

"Then I will hear your explanation for this terrible altercation."