#I've been trying to get data off my phone for

[havinganormalone]

I feel like the person who decided we needed to switch from USB-micro to USB-C should be killed. Causing so much unnecessary cable waste and frustration is deserving of death. These are just my thoughts and feelings, which happen to be correct.

[mortalityplays]

talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.

I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.

I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?

This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.

At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.

EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.

Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.

When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.

prezzemolo

I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.

[archaeren]

Hello!! I hope you're having a good day ^^ I came across your post about writing non-linearly on Notion and I'm excited to try it out because the advice resonated with me! Though, I'm really new to using the app and, if possible, need help with how to do this part: 'where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry.' ;v;

Hello! Thank you so much for messaging!!! Since that post about writing non-linearly (linked for context) blew up roughly ten thousand times as much as anything I've ever posted, I've been kind of meaning to make a followup post explaining more about how I use Notion for writing non-linearly, but, you know, ADHD, so I haven't done it yet. XD In the meantime, I'll post a couple screenshots of my current long fic with some explanations! I'd make this post shorter, but I'm unable to not be Chatty. XD (just ask my poor readers how long my author notes are...) (There is a phone app as well which syncs with the desktop/browser versions, but I work predominantly in the desktop app so that's what I'm gonna be showing)

(the table keeps going off the right side of the image but it's a bunch of unimportant stuff tbh) So this is more complicated than what you'll probably start with because I'm Normal and add a bunch of details that you might not need depending on what you're doing. For example, my fic switches POVs so I have a column for tracking that, and my fic follows a canon timeline so I have a column for dates so I can keep track of them, and I also made columns for things like if a scene had spoilers or certain content readers may want to avoid, which they can access in my spoiler and content guide for the fic. (As I said, I'm Normal.) I also do some complicated stuff using Status and estimated wordcount stuff to get an idea of how long I predict the content to be, but again, not necessary. Anyway, you don't need any of that. For the purposes of this explanation, we're just gonna look at the columns I have called Name, Order, and Status. (And one called Part, but we'll get into that later) Columns in Notion have different types, such as Text, Numbers, Select, Date, etc, so make sure to use the type that works best for the purpose of each column! For example, here I'm using Select for Character POVs, Number for Order and WC (wordcount), and Text for the In-Game Date. Okay let's get into it! Name is a column that comes in a Notion table by default, and you can't get rid of it (which drives me up the wall for some purposes but works totally fine for what we're doing here). As you can see on the scene I've labeled 'roll call', if you hover over a Name entry, a little button called 'Open' appears, which you click on to open the document that's inside the table. That's all default, you don't have to set anything up for it. Here's a screenshot of what it looks like when I click the one titled 'I will be anything for you' (I've scrolled down in the screenshot so you can see the text, but all the data fields also appear at the top of the page)

(This view is called 'side peek' meaning the document opens on one side and you can still see the table under it on the left, which is what mine defaults to. But you can set it to 'center peek' or 'full page' as well.) All my scenes have their own entry like this! Note that I've said scenes, not chapters. I decide the chapters later by combining the scenes in whatever combination feels right, which means I can often decide in advance where my chapter endings will be. This helps me consciously give most of my endings more impact than I was usually able to do when I tried to write linearly. So hopefully that gives you an idea of what I mean by writing inside the table and treating the table as a living outline. The 'Status' column is also pretty straightforward, and might require a little setup for whatever your needs are. This is another default column type Notion has which is similar to a Select but has a few more specialized features. This is how mine is set up:

(I don't actually use 'Done', idk why I left it there. Probably I should replace it with 'Posted' and use that instead of the checkmark on the far left? whatever, don't let anyone tell you I'm organized. XDD)

Pretty straightforward, it just lets me see easily what's complete and what still needs work. (You'll notice there's no status for editing, because like I mentioned in my other post, I don't ever sit down to consciously edit, I just let it happen as I reread) Obviously tailor this to your own needs! The Order column is sneakily important, because this is what makes it easy for me to keep the scenes organized. I set the Sort on the table to use the Order to keep the scene ordered chronologically. When I make the initial list of scenes I know the fic will have, I give all of them a whole number to put them in order of events. Then as I write and come up with new scene ideas, the new scenes get a number with a decimal point to put them in the spot they fit in the timeline. (you can't see it here, but some of them have a decimal three or four digits deep, lol). Technically you can drag them to the correct spot manually, but if you ever create another View in your table (you can see I have eight Views in this one, they're right under the title) it won't keep your sorting in the new View and you'll hate yourself when it jumbles all your scenes. XD (And if you get more comfortable with Notion, you probably will at some point desire to make more Views) The Part column isn't necessary, but I found that as the fic grew longer, I was naturally separating the scenes into different points along the timeline by changes in status quo, etc. (ex. "this is before they go overseas" "this is after they speak for the first time", stuff like that) in my mind. To make it easier to decide where to place new scenes in the timeline, I formalized this into Parts, which initially I named with short summaries of the current status quo, and later changed to actual titles because I decided it would be cool to actually use them in the fic itself. Since it's not in the screenshots above, here's what the dropdown for it looks like:

(I've blocked some of the titles out for spoiler reasons)

Basically I only mention the Parts thing because I found it was a useful organizational tool for me and I was naturally doing it in my head anyway. Anyway, I could keep talking about this for a really long time because I love Notion (don't get me started on how I use toggle blocks for hiding content I've edited out without deleting it) but that should be enough to get started and I should really, you know, not make this another insanely long post. XDD And if anybody is curious about how the final results look, the fic can be found here.

[zkaus]

At the back of my copy of The Vampire Armand, there's an old interview with Anne Rice talking about creating that novel. I've never forgotten her answer to one of the questions... It haunted me for years.

It gives incredible insight into how and why she wrote such beautiful, brutal and broken characters, and what she endured in the creation process.

BUT before you read this, I'm going to STRONGLY warn you, it goes to very very DARK places

Q: What are your work habits for a novel?

A: Once I truly begin to write, I work obsessively, in twelve-hour days, punctuated by days of long sleep and vivid dreaming. Starting time and ending time are no longer important. I might begin at 9 A.M., or after noon or at eight in the evening. I go from there. I turn on the computer and write, write, write.

My room is a mess. Notes are scribbled on the walls so that I can look up at them at the appropriate moments and insert the date, the name, whatever, when I need it. Books are stacked so high that people have to search for me when they come into the room. Opened books with marked-up pages are stacked on top of one another.

I become suicidal. I go through a horrid despair some time or other before the final page, during which everything seems meaningless—from the dawn of history to the very hour in which I am writing.

I’m intolerable to live with. But I spread myself thin over a number of loved ones and staff members so that no one person has to put up with how intense, hysterical, and miserable I am.

When I get elated and talk fast and furiously about wonderful aspects of history or the characters, or good developments in the story, people run away from me. I don’t blame them.

While the novel is being written, I try to avoid dressing for outdoors. No one can make you go out if you don’t have shoes on. Not even in the south. I wear long velvet robes and soft velvet slippers. I refuse to go out. All food is brought in. I eat hamburgers because they are easy to hold with one hand while reading and holding the book with the other hand.

In the middle of the night I read, sometimes on the carpeted floor of the bathroom, just because it’s warm. I am wretched. I don’t care anymore about being abnormal. Writing is everything. Everything. It seems impossible to write the book. It seems impossible to lift a hairbrush to brush my hair. But I do it. I put on mascara every day that I write.

This period of intense work lasts about six weeks. It’s best that way. My imagination is overheated, and my memory clogged with data of varying importance. If I go over six weeks, I begin to forget things; I feel the loss of intensity and information and I become all the more self-destructive and obsessed.

The end of the book is a big event for me. A big event. I start screaming. I put the hour and the date at the end of the last page. I expect everybody to understand, at least a little. It’s a triumph! The darkness of destiny has been driven back for a brief while. I celebrate. I scream, eat chocolate, and sleep.

Right near the end of writing The Vampire Armand, I realized I had to return to Italy, especially to Florence, and at once I began to make preparations for the trip. As soon as the novel was finished and off to the publisher’s, as soon as it could be accomplished, I flew to Italy. That gave me hope, a way out of a life threatening darkness that often follows the climax of a book. But I still ate chocolate and screamed.

While writing, I don’t want to rest. I don’t want to sleep. Why sleep? It seems stupid, except when weariness overcomes me like a giant cloud of poisonous vapor. Then I sleep fifteen to twenty hours. I tell people to go in and out of the bedroom and ignore me lying there, as if I were dead. I won’t talk on the phone. I won’t open my eyes if I don’t have to. I dream terrible, upsetting dreams.

I want to kill myself. But I can’t. I can’t do it to other people, and I have work that must be done, novels that must be written. So I don’t kill myself. Besides, I don’t think it’s good to kill oneself. It’s a horrible idea. It has a horrible effect even on acquaintances.

I think a lot about people I loved who are dead. I think of how dead they are, year after year, ever more dead.

[thankyouivy]

MORE JEALOUS REID!!! MORE!!!!

i think ive re-read your last blurb like 10 times I NEED MORE

R’s ex wont stop texting her so Spencer finds a way to let him know she’s doing alright (def more then alright ;) ) without him

OK THANKS ILY

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND! I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS PROMPT!!!

OOPS ITS BEEN A SEC. I’ve been super busy with finals and family stuff this holiday season!!! (merry Christmas and New Years if you celebrate!!) I'm trying to feed you heathens before I start working on the alphabet blurbs, prepare yourselves!!! this might be my fav blurb I've done so far….

Warnings: Smut (18+), exhibitionism, harassment from an ex, revenge in the form of recording good sex, oral sex [f rec], fingering, exobitionism, piv sex, marking/hickies, spencer says “good girl”, possessiveness, spence being a thigh man, vocal sex, dirty talk, praise, begging, riding, squirting.

!!the link with this colouring is to a p0rnographic image depicting a scene in the fic, be warned!!

———

Show Off - Spencer Reid X Fem!reader

You’ve been laying on his chest with your hands carding and tugging through his hair while since he got home.

Spencer’s hands caress your sides as you lazily make out, hands running over the soft cotton of your underwear and the warmth of your smooth skin. The only sounds in the room are the quiet, content hums and whines coming from your mouth, and the wet smacking of mouths licking into each other, but suddenly there’s a buzzing from under the sheets, which startles you.

You know it’s your phone, Spence always keeps his ringer on, so you both ignore it the first time, letting it go to voicemail. But when it rings again, you huff and fish for your phone under the covers, flipping your hair out of your face while using one arm to hold yourself above Spencer as you decline the call and place your phone on the bedside table. You look back to Spencer with a lust-filled gaze, leaning down to finish what you started, desperate to have some uninterrupted alone time with him after he’s been away for a few days.

Two minutes later, it’s buzzing again. You groan in annoyance, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to turn your ringtone off before, again, going back to Spencer.

Not even a minute later a series of ding’s are coming from the nightstand. You let out a frustrated whine, burying your head in the crook of his neck as you grumble.

“Work?” Spencer asks, voice raw and breathy from the previous heated moment. You shake your head and mumble something incoherent about “the jackass” into his neck. “He’s still calling?” Spencer asks, chuckling lightly at your nickname for your ex-boyfriend.

“Mhm” you groan, pulling your face out of his neck, the notifications still coming from your phone. He smiles sympathetically at you as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your jaw. “No matter what I do I can’t get him to stop! I considered changing my number, but my boss said I can’t ‘cause all my files and data are listed under this one. It’s gotten worse since I started posting photos of us on Instagram.”

“I can ask Garcia to blacklist his number from your phone?” Spencer breathes, rubbing your back in an attempt to relax you and try to think of a solution. “Penny already tried... it worked for a little, but you know you can’t blacklist disposable cells,” you frown.

your phone dings again, and before Spencer can stop you, you’re snatching your phone off the bedside table and frantically typing something before tossing it off the bed, and onto the carpeted floor in frustration.

Spencer chuckles at your dramatics before climbing out of bed to grab your phone off the floor, looking down at the screen. “‘Trying to fuck my FBI boyfriend who has a gun.’ really, sugar?” He huffs out a laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hand soothingly over your leg.

“Worth a try,” you shrug with a giggle. “It’s honestly just getting inconvenient, every time I get a notification I don’t know if it’s something important, or this dumbass,” you sigh.

“Remind me why you ever dated him?” Spencer teases, receiving a shove to his shoulder as he looks down at the phone again. “huh.”

You peek over his shoulder at the screen, draping yourself over his back, intrigued at his intrigue, “What is it?”

—

22:23 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:24 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:27 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:29 - Fucker: hey babe

22:29 - Fucker: miss you ;)

22:29 - Fucker: and those tits of yourss

22:31 - Fucker: wyd?

22:33 - You: Trying to fuck my fbi bf who has a gun

22:33 - You: Stop calling.

22:34 - Fucker: ur dating a fed?

22:34 - Fucker: he fuck like one 2? know u miss this d

22:35 - Fucker:u know u want me

22:36 - Fucker: u miss how i make you feel he dont make u feel like that and u know it

22:36 - Fucker: admit it

—

“Well- he’s got clear narcissistic tendencies and incredibly high ego…” Spencer mumbles to himself. “And a tiny dick,” you add with a giggle, kissing at his neck.

Spencer frowns at that, and you can practically hear the cogs turning in his head. He’s half upset at the knowledge that you ever had sex with this guy, and half upset that it was clearly not pleasurable for you, at all.

“You know… even though pathological narcissists often portray themselves as shameless, that is part of the act, they are extremely self-conscious. Humiliating them often results in them losing control of the image they've built, which causes avoidance and denial. So… theoretically, if I were to out-do him in the area that seems to boost his ego the most, which is clearly sex, he would back off.” Spencer explains, pulling you into his lap.

“Baby, even though we both know its true, if I told him you’re better in bed, he’d just deny it and get more aggressive.” You smile at him, kissing his cheek and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands fall to your waist.

“That’s true, so what if we had some… evidence... to back it up?” Spencer asks, blush appearing on his cheeks as you let out an exaggerated gasp. “Doctor Spencer Reid! Are you suggesting we film ourselves having sex to scare off my ex?!” You playfully hit his chest in mock-shock.

“I- yeah- yes-, b- but only if you’re comfortable with it- there’s no way he would share it, so there’s no risk o-” he stutters before you cut him off with a kiss.

“Yeah?… You wanna prove you can fuck me better? Got a big dick, long fingers, a good ass tongue, and know how to use ‘em, huh?” You ask seductively, slowly grinding yourself onto him in slow, teasing circles.

Mouth open in a silent groan, he looks down at your hips grinding on him before looking back up to you, open mouth turning into a smirk. “Worth a try,” He breathes, pushing his hips up into yours, swallowing your whimpers with a kiss, pulling you in by the the back of your neck.

Not breaking the kiss, he undoes your bra and pulls it off, running his hands up your sides to your chest. “Well he got one thing right; these ‘tits of yours’ are gorgeous.” He gropes your chest with his large hands as you giggle.

He stands up with you in his arms and flips you around, tossing you on the bed and climbing over you, sucking on the pulse point of your neck. “Can’t believe you used to let him touch you like I do,” Spencer growls into you, kissing over the mark he’s made.

“trust me, baby, he never touched me like you do- ah!”

You’re breathing heavy and whining as he teases you, no doubt trying to get you all worked up so you’ll show off just how desperate he makes you.

His hand traces shapes along your hip bone while moving lower down your body. He begins kissing along your chest, sucking and nipping as one of his hands dips beneath the band of your panties.

He teases you, laying his large hand flat over your lower stomach, applying a bit of pressure as his slender fingers dip into the crease of your inner thigh, touching you everywhere but where you need him.

You whine and wiggle your hips, desperate for some sort of relief from the swirling need in your core, but to your dismay he just continues teasing, pulling his hand out from your panties and running his middle and ring fingers over the mound of your clothed pussy.

You gasp as his fingers run down to the damp spot over your entrance. A groan muffled by your chest falls from his mouth as he attempts to press into you through the fabric before his fingers come back up to your clothed clit, moving in slow circles, pressing hard against you as your hips buck into the friction of the fabric.

“Spencer,” You moan, but it’s more like a plea, a plea for him to do something more, anything, really.

He chuckles at you, deciding that he’s done teasing (for now). He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off your hips and down your legs with a little help from you.

He moves down your body, sitting in between your thighs, torso hovering over your pelvis to get a good view of his work.

You let out a whine at the lack of touch. “Mm, impatient are we?” He mutters, running his hands over your upper thighs and spreading them wider. He grabs your phone off the bed and swipes over to the camera, keeping the camera flipped to the sheets, and hits record.

Humming in delight, he spreads you open with this thumbs, “Always so fucking wet for me,” he praises, gently rubbing up your pussy with his middle and ring fingers, pressing against your clit.

“Baby,” You gasp into a moan as your opening clenches around nothing and your clit pulses at the sudden touch. Spencer’s pupils are blown wide with lust as he gazes at you letting out little gasps and moans, completely enamoured by your body, bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth. “Fuck, sugar.”

One of his hands pulls your folds open while the other one plays with you. His middle finger runs up and down your folds, collecting your slick and rubbing it over your clit before teasing your entrance.

You whimper and push back against his digits, desperately trying to get his long, thick, skilled fingers inside you.

Slowly, he dips his middle and ring fingers into you, curling them slightly as he pushes them as far as they will go inside you, making you cry and writhe against him. His other hand works slow circles over your clit as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out of you faster and faster.

Little uh, uh, uh's fall from your lips as he pumps in and out of you. He bites his lip in concentration and lust, the wet sounds of your pussy reverberating around the room only heightening his arousal.

"That feel good, baby?"

"Mhm!" you cry out, eyes clamping shut in pleasure.

“Yeah?” he teases, smirking as he watches your eyes flutter shut once he starts rubbing that spot inside inside you that makes your vision turn white. Your jaw hangs open as strained moans leave your mouth, your hips arch off the bed, and your hands grip the sheets as you reach your first orgasm.

Spencer groans as he feels your muscles clench around him and your release gush around his digits, his hard cock twitching and leaking in his boxers. He slows his pace, helping you through your high with the consistent stimulation his gentle touches bring you.

“Good girl,” He whispers in that sexy grainy voice of his. You giggle breathlessly as you reach to stop the recording, looking down at him just when he pulls his fingers out of you.

Bringing them up to his mouth, he lets his tongue fall out, moaning in delight at your taste as sucks your arousal off his fingers, “Fuck, baby, I need to taste you.”

You wiggle your hips in anticipation as he hooks his forearms under your thighs and grabs your waist, his large hands almost covering the entirety of your abdomen. He lowers himself down, kissing and nibbling from your knee to the base of your thigh.

He roughly sucks and bites at your inner thighs, wanting to make marks that last for at least a week, marks that you’ll feel whenever your plush thighs brush together. He switches thighs while absentmindedly rubbing at your clit; too softly to get you off, but just enough to make you needy.

Just as predicted, you become a whiney, needy mess in a matter of minutes. You’re only knocked out of the pleasure-filled haze when Spencer pauses his attack to lean his smug face against your abused thigh and mumble, “He never went down on you, did he, sugar? ‘s that why you were so confused the first time I told you I wanted to?”

He phrases it like a question, but you know he already knows the answer. You avert his eyes when you nod your head, blush appearing on your cheeks as he coo’s.

“Awe, poor baby… ‘should show him what he was missing, yeah?” He mumbles, nipping the flesh of your thigh, his fingers still working gently over your clit. You whine, bucking into the sensation as you nod your head. “Go on, sugar, set up the camera,"

He goes back to sucking bruises onto your thighs as you prop the camera up on the plant pot that lives on your bedside table, angling it so the focus is on Spencer, and hit record.

Once you lay back down, he tightens his grip on your waist, keeping you in place as he licks a fat stripe up your pussy.

You let out a startled moan, slipping a hand into his messy curls and tugging, earning a groan from him. He kitten licks around your clit and down to your entrance, pulling away momentarily as your back arches off the bed to mutter, “god, you taste fucking incredible.”

He switches between flicking his tongue over your clit and lapping at the slick pouring from your opening, listening to your sweet cries. His tongue increasing its pace as wet, lewd, sounds from his mouth lapping at your pussy fill your hot bedroom.

Spencer watches from between your thighs as your eyes roll back, fluttering shut as your pretty lips part, letting out a strangled cry of pleasure as he suckles on your swollen clit.

Your squeezing your thighs around his head as you rock your hips into his face as you yank on his hair. Spencer groans, holding you in place as your thighs tremble, never stopping his attack on your cunt as your orgasm courses through your body.

He takes his time working you through your high and then cleaning you up, savouring the taste of your arousal as if it's not permanently stored in his mind through his eidetic memory and the sheer amount of times he's used his mouth on you.

He licks at you until your whimpering and physically can't take the overstimulation anymore, pushing his head away from your sopping cunt. He grins at you, lips and chin wet with a mix of your slick and his saliva as he licks his lips and pants, still catching his breath.

He crawls up your body, licking up your neck to your jaw, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips before throwing a smug look at the camera and stopping the recording, tossing the phone into the sheets as he goes back to kissing you, his soft lips mixing with yours.

You whine when you taste yourself on his tongue, that warm feeling in your core returning, and you know only one thing will calm your needy body.

You reach down, fingers tracing the lines of Spencer's toned stomach, dipping into his boxers, and gripping his cock.

He hisses at your touch, "fu-uck- we- we don't have to, sugar, you don't need to- I can ju-"

"I wanna. I want you..."

You hook your heel around his hip and flip the two of you over, so you're on top, biting your lip and moving so you're straddling his upper thighs.

You pull his rock hard cock out, stroking it as you watch Spencer's head fall back against the pillows, mouth open in a silent moan.

You fish for your phone in the covers while you continue stroking him, loving the way his eyebrows knit together and his chest rises and falls sporadically.

You grab your phone and move up further, so your pussy is right at the base of your boyfriends dick, his hard cock resting on your tummy, the tip hitting just below your belly button.

You snap the photo, and grin when you see the filthy image. Your perfectly manicured hand is placed delicately over the base of his cock, his tip is an angry red, and has a bead of precum collecting and threatening to spill against your stomach as you show off his length.

It's perfectly sinful, and you can feel yourself getting wet just looking at it. You can't stand to wait any longer, lifting your hips off him and grabbing Spencer to direct his tip to your core.

You rub his tip through your folds to lubricate it, just like Spencer always does before entering you, with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and he swears he could cum just at the sight.

Your hands find purchase on his pelvis, bracing yourself as your eyebrows knit together and your eyes flutter shut as you sink down onto him.

Finally bottoming out, you feel perfectly full, the light stretch his thickness brings you feels incredible. His hands find their place on your defined hip-bones as you breathe, getting used to the sensation.

Once you know you're ready, you flex your thigh muscles and lift your hips slightly, and with the help of Spencers hands on your hips you start to create a steady rhythm, fucking yourself down on to your boyfriends fat dick.

"Baby," Spencer gasps, sounding like he's had the breath punched out of him. You manage to smirk at him, despite the moans falling from your mouth as you start to thrust your hips down faster and faster.

"So beautiful like this, sugar- god, look at you, fucking desperate for it, taking what you need from me- fuck-" He goans, dilated pupils gazing at you with nothing but lust. You feel to tight and warm around him, Spencer can't help himself; he begins thrusting his hips up to meet yours, hitting that one spot inside you perfectly over and over again.

You yelp out a moan and twitch as your orgasm flows through your whole body, like giant waves rolling over you. Your toes curl and your nails scratch even marks down his toned chest, earning a hiss from him.

Your thighs stutter and begin losing the rhythm you created, hunching forward over his chest. Spencer takes the hint and plants his feet firmly on the bed before he begins thrusting up into you at a quick pace, forcing a yelp out of you as you fall onto his chest.

You can hear his whimpers and groans in your ear as he chases his orgasm, biting his shoulder to hold back your screams.

"Ah! hng- harder, please...," You moan into his neck, and Spencer's resolve finally cracks. He grips your hips harder and forces your hips down onto him, forcing his cock fully into you every time.

You gasp brokenly and surge forward to kiss him sloppily, moaning absurdly loudly in between kisses, scratching and yanking at his scalp.

"I- I'm so close! Spence- please-," You moan into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red crescent moons in their wake.

"Shit- me too sugar-"

"please! please... wanna feel it in me..."

He groans, looking down at where he's thrusting into you, reaching down to toy with your clit as you attempt to fuck yourself down onto him, despite how Spencer's caged you in.

"Spencer-," you cry out as you cum for the final time, completely at his mercy. Your pussy clenching and fluttering around him as you gush around him.

His hips lift off the mattress, pulling you flush against him and rubbing your clit impossibly faster as he pumps you full of his cum, jaw hanging open in ecstasy as his high washes over him. You all but scream in pure pleasure, your body spasming as more liquid spurts out of you.

When you come down, you feel the steady rise and fall of Spencers chest as he pants under you, not even daring to move off him. Spencer's hand cards through your messy curls, as you catch your breath, grinning down at him.

Once the two of you catch your breath, he pulls out of you with a choked breath and you roll off him with a whine. He quickly pads over to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth to clean you up and some water for the both of you.

Before he can even start to clean you up, you stop him. He gives you a quizzical look when you hand him your phone, but you just bite your lip nervously. "I- um- I never let him fuck me without a condom, he'll hate it..." You mumble, and you swear you can see his cock twitch when his eyes widen.

Without another comment, he blushes and snaps a picture of your fucked out body on top of the wrinkled sheets. You body is shining with a thin layer of sweat, your hair flowing across your shoulders and the pillow under your head, Spencer's cum dripping slowly out of your sopping pussy.

He cleans you up and makes sure you drink water, changing the sheets while you get ready for bed in the bathroom, and then happily holding you as you fall asleep in his arms.

Before falling asleep himself, he opens your phone and sends your ex a message.

—

23:25 - You: *Attachment: 2 images, 2 videos*

23:25 - You: She is doing just fine without you.

More of my stuff can be found here.

~ Ivy 🪴

[captainsophiestark]

Epiphany

Javi Rivera x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Twisters

Day Two Prompt: "It's been a long time."

Summary: Javi's job bring him back into the same town as a sort-of-ex, but if he wants a chance at rekindling anything, he's going to have to answer for his decision to work for Riggs.

Word Count: 3,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Happy spooky season everyone!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I grinned as I lined up my shot on the dartboard ahead of me, ignoring the heckling of my friends and a few new competitors we'd met at the bar. I was the undefeated champ at darts, both tonight and in general, and I hadn't gotten here by letting people get in my head.

I let out a breath, completely focused on the center ring, and sent the dart flying in one smooth motion.

Bullseye. As planned.

I turned to my friends with a grin, enjoying their chorus of groans. While I wasn't completely undefeated for all time, I was undefeated tonight, and I was frankly having the time of my life.

"Okay, there's got to be somebody in this bar who can beat you," teased one of my friends, throwing an arm over my shoulder and turning to scan the rest of the patrons who hadn't been roped into our competition yet.

"I bet I could give it a shot."

I turned at the sound of the voice to see a man I hadn't seen in years.

Javi Rivera and I had met while we were both studying at Muskogee State College almost six years ago. We'd hit it off, going quickly from friends to dating, and after only a couple months, I'd started to be able to see a future with him. And then, three of his friends died in a tornado while they were trying to test their PhD project and secure grant funding.

I'd done my best to be there for Javi, but we'd pretty quickly realized he needed some space--from chasing, from school, from Oklahoma. From everything. Including me.

It sucked to say goodbye to someone I loved, but at the same time, I got it. We'd parted on pretty good terms, deciding for both our hearts it would be best for the break to be clean. I'd thought about him a thousand times since then, clean break or no, but I hadn't seen him once. Now, he was standing before me in the dive bar just outside my hometown, apparently challenging me to darts.

"...Javi?" I managed, a smile tugging at my face despite the shock and disbelief. He grinned back at me, holding his arms out but not making any move to close the distance.

"Hey. It's good to see you."

I grinned, quickly closing the rest of the space between us to wrap Javi in a hug.

"It's good to see you too! What are you doing here? ...How are you doing?"

He stepped back with a smaller smile on his own face, running a hand through his hair before he met my eyes again.

"Better. A lot better than the last time you saw me, actually. I'm working with a team that's researching tornados, trying to get better data to better understand them and hopefully make everybody safer as a result. My team's just passing through the area on our way to chase a some big cells developing further West, and we're staying in town for the night. I was really hoping I'd find you here."

"You know, I do have a phone. And I haven't changed my number."

He grinned. "That was going to be Plan C, if Plan A of finding you here and Plan B of finding you at another bar didn't work out."

I just shook my head and laughed.

"You know, there's a lot I could say about that, but I think instead I'm gonna settle for kicking your ass in darts."

"Oh, bring it on. I was watching you, I think you've lost your edge since the last time I saw you. And I can tell you right now, I haven't. I've only gotten better."

"Sure you have, Rivera. Come on, put your money where your mouth is. You start us off."

"If you insist."

Javi leaned in close, hitting me with a charming smile as he took his half of the darts out of my hand, taking his time and letting his fingers linger over mine. For a split second, it was like I was back in grad school again, spending weekends blowing off steam and occasionally working on our project from the back table of a bar. Then, he pulled back, turning his attention to the dartboard again.

"Loser buys drinks," he called as he drew his arm back, then let the dart fly. He hit an 18, but not on any of the score-multiplying rings. I grinned.

"You're on."

****************

Javi and I spent most of the rest of the night together, trading blows in darts and just catching up with each other again. To my delight, it had been like no time had passed since we'd last seen each other. We immediately fell back into the same happy, comfortable routine we'd had for years, and my heart did a happy little flip in my chest every time Javi leaned into me with the smile I loved so much.

We stayed out at the bar together long after my friends had left, hovering at a back table together until they kicked us out. Javi had walked to the bar from his hotel, so I gave him a ride back, the two of us lingering as clearly neither of us wanted to leave. When Javi finally hopped out of the car, it was only after we'd made plans to get together the next day, depending on the tornado situation.

Luckily for Javi and I, the forecast the following morning looked very calm. Javi texted me early, and we made plans to get together for lunch. I was practically walking on air as I drove into town, parking and hopping out to wait for Javi before heading inside. I didn't want to get too far ahead of myself, but having Javi back in my life even for these twelve hours or so had been amazing. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and frankly, I didn't want to.

Unfortunately, my happy little bubble got momentarily popped by a Storm Par truck pulling into the lot. I frowned and narrowed my eyes. They'd shown up in the area recently, swooping in like vultures and taking advantage of tragedy in the community to make a profit. If they were heading into the restaurant for lunch, Javi and I might need to find somewhere more peaceful to hang out.

I glowered at the truck, trying to project as much malice and disapproval as possible. Then the door popped open, and my heart stopped in my chest.

Javi climbed out of the driver's seat. He had on a Storm Par button down. He grinned and waved at me as soon as he saw me, but I couldn't do more than stare back. What the fuck was he doing?

"Hey! Sorry I'm a little late, I had a meeting this morning-"

"With Riggs?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them. Javi stuttered a step, the smile on his face dimming a little as I crossed my arms. He came to a stop in front of me.

"I... what?"

"I think that's my line, Javi. What the hell are you doing? Why are you showing up here in Storm Par shit?"

"I told you I was chasing again-"

"You told me you were here researching tornados! Not conning grieving people out of their family homes!"

Javi took a step back, blinking like I'd physically slapped him across the face. I huffed, trying to get a hold of myself. I'd been almost shouting by the end of my speech, and I really didn't want to throw a scene in front of the restaurant.

"Listen, I get why you're mad," Javi started, holding up his hands like a peace offering. "But Riggs is funding research that's going to allow us to better understand how, why, and when tornados form, which will save lives. We're on our way to the most complete understanding of a tornado ever, and we never would've gotten here without Riggs investing and getting us this tech."

I'd started shaking my head after the second sentence, getting faster and faster until Javi finished speaking. I huffed a disbelieving laugh and took a half-step back towards my car.

"There are other ways to get grant money, Javi. Ways that don't include Riggs."

"Yeah, just ways that include risking everything going into an EF5 that got almost all of my best friends killed."

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. It had been a dream come true when Javi walked into the bar last night, but this was quickly turning into a nightmare. Hurt, anger, saddness, and disappointment formed their own little tornado in my chest, and I barely managed to keep my voice level as I met Javi's eyes again.

"I know what you went through when you lost your friends. I understand why you're making the choices you're making. But you know as well as I do that Riggs is taking advantage of people, actively hurting people in this community, and that all the data you bring him with your research is just going to make it easier for him to swoop in looking to make a profit after disasters, not bringing help before them."

"That's not what we're doing-"

"You might be able to convince yourself of that while you're riding around in your stupid trucks, but unlike you, I was born and raised here, and I never left. I know what's happening, I know the reputation your sponsor has earned for you, and frankly Javi? I want nothing to do with it. Any of it."

Javi huffed in surprise, then scowled.

"I take it to mean that includes me?"

I nodded, slowly at first, then faster and more confidently as I took a few more steps back.

"As long as you're going to keep enabling the vultures? Yeah, that does include you."

He huffed again, a humorless laugh, as he shook his head and shuffled around like he couldn't figure out how to react. It felt like a knife to my heart, but I didn't let myself hesitate before turning around and heading back to my car. I'd sat and cried with neighbors in the wake of tornados, trying to salvage anything we could in the wreckage, before polished looking guys in suits came in and way underpaid for properties, then left without lifting a finger to help a single living thing in the devastated area. If Javi was willing to be a part of that, then he was nothing like the man I'd known and loved before.

****************

I sighed, dropping an armful of books on the kitchen table. I still had a few things to bring up from the storm shelter, but I couldn't stop myself from sinking into the nearest chair. It had been a long few days.

Less than 48 hours after Javi and I had our fight, one of the worst tornados of the year had touched down much too close for comfort. It had done some significant damage to the next town over, although not nearly as bad as it could've been. Exactly what had happened was still a little unclear, but it had been a long time since one had come that close to me. I hadn't been expecting it to affect me, but my knees were actually feeling a little weak.

I took a few moment to focus on breathing deeply, then rallied myself to move the last of my supplies out of the storm shelter. I'd just made it to my feet again when a knock came at the door.

I sighed and honestly debated pretending I wasn't home. But, most likely, it was a neighbor coming to check in or share news from the tornado. I didn't want them to worry, and I probably wouldn't get away with pretending not to be here.

I made it to the door just after another knock came, slightly louder this time. I swung open the door without looking outside first, then froze halfway through the motion when I found Javi staring at me, standing on my doorstep with a six pack of beer held loosely in one hand.

"Thank god you answered. Listen, I'm sorry. You were right. Kate was right. Storm Par... Riggs..." he shook his head, apparently at a loss for words. His hair and clothes were a mess, back to the Javi I'd known in grad school instead of the perfectly-pressed Storm Par rep I'd seen a few days ago. More than just that, though, he looked frazzled. Offbalance, in a way I'd never seen before.

"Javi... are you okay?"

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"Did you hear about the big one?"

"...The tornado that just hit?" He nodded. "Yeah. I've only heard bits and pieces outside of the siren, but yeah. What happened? Is everybody... you said Kate's name earlier."

He quickly reassured me, getting halfway through reaching for my hand before pulling himself back.

"Kate's fine. I convinced her to come out here and help with research, but she almost-" Javi stopped short, closing his eyes for a long, long moment. I frowned, briefly considering what to do next, but it didn't take me long to reach a decision. Javi seemed to be implying he'd ditched Storm Par, but even if he hadn't, I still cared about him. And he clearly needed somebody right now.

"Javi. Why don't you come inside and sit down? Take a breath for a minute?"

He nodded, opening his eyes again and taking a slow, deep breath.

"Thanks."

"Sure thing."

I held the door open, and Javi didn't need me to show him where to go. We'd spent a good part of our relationship hanging out in this house, and it hadn't changed much since then. I followed Javi, letting him decide where he wanted to settle. Eventually, we ended up on the back porch, Javi settling into the bench swing where we'd watched more sunsets than I could count. He set the six pack down by his feet, and after a moment's consideration, I sat down next to him.

Javi didn't look at me as I joined him, his stare still a thousand yards out on the sun that had just started to approach the horizon. I gave him a few moments, then gently reached out to take his hand. His attention immediately snapped to me, his eyes wide with surprise. I gave him a soft smile.

"How long as it been since we spent an evening sitting out here?"

He huffed a laugh. "It's been a long time."

We shared a little smile, then after a moment, I sighed. Javi seemed calmer, at least slightly, and now I needed some answers.

"So... you wanna tell me what brought you here?"

"I came to apologize. You were right about Riggs, and about what's important. I want to be helping people, and it's a long story, but it became clear in the last few hours that I can't do that as long as I'm working with Riggs. I just wish I'd been able to figure it out earlier."

Javi shifted, taking my hand in his and shuffling a little closer to me. The apology was sweet, and I'd missed having moments like this with Javi, but his answer still had a lot of holes.

"I'm glad to hear you're done with Riggs- I mean, I'm assuming that's what you're saying?"

"Yes. Very much yes."

I smiled. "Okay. But maybe you should start a little further back on explaining what happened between now and the last time I saw you. Starting with why you failed to tell me Kate was in town."

"...In my defense, I was planning to tell you at lunch."

I couldn't hold back a snort.

"Fine. Depending on how good the rest of your explanation is, you get a pass on that."

Javi laughed. "Good. Alright, let me think about this..."

It took a while, but eventually Javi managed to walk me through his whole story. It was the serious catchup we'd been planning to have over lunch, but with the added beneift of a private moment together in one of our old favorite places. A lot had happened since Kate had come to town, and she'd had the same kind of fight with Javi as I had, but he'd come around and stepped up when it mattered.

"So, now we're done with Riggs. We're working on a pitch for investors back East right now, actually. Kate's going to present what we've got so far, and hopefully we'll have ethical funding for helping people and nothing else by the end of next month."

I smiled, leaning into Javi. The sky was red from the sunset now, and we'd been holding hands the whole time. Even though we'd gone years without really talking, right now, it felt like nothing had changed.

"I'm glad to hear it, Javi. And I'm so, so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, me too. It was dicey there for a minute, but we're on the other side now."

I leaned a little further into Javi, and after a moment, he raised one arm and stretched it around my shoulders. I sighed.

"You know..." Javi started. He paused and cleared his throat, then shifted a little on the bench before continuing. "Kate and I could actually use some help working on those grant proposals, and maybe some of our future presentations. I know you've always been happy to do your own thing, but... we'd love to have your help if you want to come back to spending more time with us. I would love that."

I leaned back to look Javi in the eye, and I couldn't keep a gigantic smile off my face for even a second.

"Honestly Javi? I would love that. Both to be part of helping you guys finish what you started, helping our community, and... for you. I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too. So much. And I know I'm the one who left, but if you'd be willing to give us another shot... I'll be around for the long haul."

 My heart did a backflip in my chest, and the beaming smile on my face mirrored the feeling.

"I would really love that Javi."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good." He smiled back at me, then started leaning in before stopping short. "Can I kiss you?"

"Absolutely you can."

He grinned, then the two of us closed the distance as one, Javi's hand going to my waist as I tangled one in his hair. It felt right, and we both smiled into the kiss.

"No pressure if this is a little fast," I said, pulling back from Javi just enough to speak, "but... would you like to stay the night tonight?"

"You know I've stayed the night before, right? Regularly. I don't know if it can count as too fast if we've already done it a million times."

"Fair point. So what do you say?"

"I'd love to." He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on my neck and then moving slowly up towards my ear. One of his hands moved to my thigh as he whispered: "I've got a lot to catch you up on if you're going to start writing grant proposals for us. I think we've got an all-nighter coming on."

I laughed, pulling back and swatting at Javi's arm. He just grinned.

"Okay, I'm officially banning work talk until tomorrow morning."

"Honestly, you don't have to tell me twice."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Twisters Taglist: @turtlee-says-rawr

[spidybaby]

Flowers

Summary: Who would have thought some flowers can make that much drama.

Warnings: none, kinda angsty but fluffy.

A/N: I've been so busy with college that I feel bad for not posting. So here's this piece. Hope you like it 😀💛

Everything started with your friend giving you the idea of pranking Kylian, posting a story of some flowers with the caption "thank you baby ❤️"

At first, you didn't want to because Kylian was the kind of boyfriend to always give you flowers, taking you to dinner, doing little things for you.

But when the vacation started, he went to Miami with Achraf and Melissa. You declined his invite to go with him. Due to your work, you needed to be available for your coworkers since you were just promoted as a higher up.

Melissa was sad. It was her first vacation away from the kids and now away from you. You both became really close since you began dating Kylian.

Kylian is someone who girls always try to get with. Something you weren't to moved to, it didn't worry you. You trusted him, and he trusted you. It's teamwork.

Something that began to worry you was him not answering his phone, your texts, nothing. It was like he went ghost mode.

You thought it was because his data was not active or something, but then you saw the ig post. He has data to post, then he can at least dm you to let you know he was fine.

You didn't need him to be glue to the phone for you, but at least let you know he was fine. Only that.

So, you texted Melissa, asking her if she was enjoying the vacation, if she was tanning. But, she left you on read.

That's when the words of your friend made sound in your head. Was that a good thing to do?

"Of course it is. It's a harmless story, and you can even text him saying "thank you for my flowers while you're away." Your friend says, looking at the flower catalog. "So this peonies, please"

You open your phone just to see the seen texts. You didn't understand why he was acting like that. If he wanted a space free vacation, he could have said it.

"Okay, all done. Let's go." Your friend says, grabbing your arm to drag you outside of the store.

"Wait, did you pay?"

"Yes, you'll get them tomorrow."

You both ended up at some cafe, talking about the updates of your lives.

"Don't worry, if you're not comfortable with this, you don't have to do it." She says as she leaves you on the door of your house.

"I'll think about it."

You wave her goodbye as she drives off.

You went off with your night, didn't want to bother Kylian. Maybe he's busy and needs a breath from everything. Maybe he wanted to be alone for a while.

"Maybe you're too much for him," a voice in your head says.

Okay, no, you're not. If you were, he would not be with you.

You push all those thoughts out of your head and decide to sleep. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

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You saw the pictures he posted, the outfit you helped him put together. Yet he still hasn't answered your texts.

You take a look at your bouquet of peonies, you think a little bit before taking the picture. You add a white heart, uploading it to your story.

You send a pic to him over text, thanking him for sending them while he was on vacation.

You decide to turn off your phone as soon as you start receiving the notifications of instagram. You turn on your TV and start your favorite show, taking a caring only on the TV.

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Kylian was calmly talking with Achraf. They were going to dinner with some friends of him.

"Kylian, you're such a lover boy for your girlfriend." Melissa says, looking at your story. Kylian didn't understand, but he just nodded.

He got that type of comment from Achraf, too. He was kind of confused about why the sudden interest on him being a "good boyfriend."

It was not clear until Neymar texted him, asking him where he found the peonies, wanting to get some for his baby gender reveal and not being able due to the shortage of them.

He frowned, reading the text, Neymar attached a picture of your story.

You tag him in a story of a big bouquet of peonies thanking him. He never sent you that bouquet. He told Neymar that he will text him the info, but he didn't have any info to share.

He quickly noticed the text you sent him. "Thank you, mon amour. You're the best ❤️ I love peonies, and you know it 🥰" He tried to call several times. You didn't answer. It went straight to voice mail.

After that, Melissa asked him what was wrong, and when he explained, she tried to call you, nothing. Even Achraf gave his phone to Kylian, nothing.

He was worried. Who sent you flowers? Why would someone send you flowers? Were you aware he was not the one sending you flowers?

He stayed in, but for nothing, you weren't answering your phone.

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You turn your phone back on the next day. You needed to make some calls and send some emails so you will do it from your phone.

The first thing you saw was that you have 5 missed calls from Melissa, 8 from Kylian and even two from Achraf.

You also got a lot of texts. Even one from Bruna, Neymar's girlfriend, she was asking me to ask Kylian where he found the peonies. She wanted some for her gender reveal.

You answer her, giving her the info from the florist. And also assuring her that you will be at her gender reveal.

Another text was from Ethan, asking you to go out but using that insta story to deliver the message. You say yes.

And then a text message from your boyfriend. He was asking if you're available to call you. You wanted to say yes, call him and talk, but your toxic side says no. Let him overthink. So you ignored his, Melissa's, and Achraf texts. Instead, you call Ethan and tell him you'll pick him up to go to brunch.

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"You have to calm down." Achraf says, watching Kylian passing around the room, phone in hand. "Maybe you did send them, and you're forgetting it." He shakes his head no, he didn't. He would remember.

"I didn't."

"Ethan and her are going out." Melissa says, reading the text Fayza sent her. "They're going out for brunch."

"Why is she not answering my texts or calls then?" Kylian sat down, angry.

"Maybe because you haven't answered hers." Achraf points out.

Melissa agreed with him.

"But she told me she was going to be busy." He almost screamed. "I didn't want to distract her."

"Okay, but you even told Melissa not to answer her. Maybe she's mad at you."

And I was true, Kylian told Melissa not to bother you. Since you got your new work, you were busy, so he didn't want you to feel like you were pressured to do a lot of things at the same time.

"But.-"

"But nothing," Achraf interrupts. "Let's not worry, even if the flowers are from another dude, she thanked you. She's not thinking about anyone else."

They both shut his insecurities, and Melissa took his phone. She sent you a text saying sorry for not answering and sending you some pictures.

The rest of his vacation was weird, he keeps sending you texts, and you kept ignoring him but updating your social media.

Melissa and you talked, you told her about the plan you and your friend had. She laughed and told you it was all between you and her.

Kylian, on the other side, was overthinking. He wanted to go back to Paris and be with you. In the last few, he sent you different things. He sent you flowers, he sent you chocolate, he sent you your favorite food, and he sent you your favorite coffee to your work.

You find all that cute and funny. He was so jealous. Your friend and you enjoyed the moment. He was getting his own medicine.

The day of his return, you text him as if nothing happened. Asking if he wanted to be picked up by you.

He immediately say yes, asking you how you were, if you received his things, you just answered with a "see you at the airport, amour"

Making him worried sick. Are you mad at him? Are you breaking up with him? Are you mad about something else? Achraf made him stop, telling him he was overthinking.

The whole flight he was thinking about you, he even texted Ethan for help, asking him to reserve for a super fancy restaurant, to run to the jewelry for something special for you and even asked his mother to go with his brother to pick you a special dress for the night.

When he arrived, it was 10 am. Perfect time for him to rest and to be with you all day and have that special date at night.

You waited at the parking of the airport, his driver was there with you, since he sent him to get you. Due to the flight being private, you could wait there.

You see the plane landing, and your stomach is full of butterflies. You missed him, too much for you to admit outloud.

When Achraf and Melissa got out of the plane, you and Lana got out of the car. Lana ran to her mother, and you said hi to Hakimi. After lana and Melissa greet each other you hugged her.

When Kylian was down, he waited for you and Melissa to talk a little bit, hugging his niece. Melissa pointed with the head to Kylian, who has his eyes fixed on you.

"Hi," you say softly, hugging him tight. "I missed you." You kiss his cheek. He was happy to see you, his face buried in your neck, enjoying the perfume he loved so much.

"I miss you more," he kissed your neck, making shivers run down your spine. He can feel them. Loving how your body reacts to him. Only him.

"Let's go, lovebirds," Melissa says, laughing as she enters the car. "You can talk at home." You both laugh, Kylian kisses your lips and walks hand in hand with you to the car.

The whole trip to his home was them telling you about the trip, and Lana asked some questions to her mom.

"Text me when you're home." You say to Melissa, she was going to her house, leaving Kylian and you alone at his own house. "Bye, Lana." You both waved them goodbye and enter his house.

"Come here." You say closing the door. You open your arms to him, kissing his lips. "I missed you so much, you have to tell me everything."

"I had so much fun, we have to go together, again, it's such a vibe."

You both walked upstairs, he needed to rest and you were helping him with the suitcase. "Thank you," he says, looking at you organizing his stuff. "I have something for you."

"More?" You laugh. "All you did was send me things. You already gave me enough, Ky."

"There's never enough with me." The cocky tone of voice he's using is funny to you. Sometimes you forget your boyfriend is The Kylian Mbappé. "I even have a whole plan for us tonight."

"Kylian, you have to rest." You put the suitcase down, leaving it for later. You needed to cuddle him. "I love you, but you're probably tired. I want you to feel good for this new season."

"I'll do that, but I have to spoil my baby. If I don't do that, who will?"

You spend the day with him in bed, both resting and loving the time you have together. This tight schedule doesn't allow this kind of moment very often, so you both learned to work around it.

Spending every minute you can together, after practice, after every match, free days, holidays. Every second was important for you. Even if it was only a hug and good luck or if it was a whole night, you appreciated everything.

You went home to get ready, his driver telling you he was collecting you at six o'clock. You thank him and run inside your house to get ready.

The first thing you see when you walk inside is the big designer bags. You gasped, not expecting all that.

You open your phone to thank Kylian for the things, assuring him that I was too much for a date night and you'll make it up to him.

After a long shower, you did your makeup and style your hair, using the fragrance you know he loves and wearing the dress he gave you. It was a beautiful black dress, he also went out of the way and got you this diamond necklace that's the perfect match for one he owns.

The driver picked you up at the exact time. He was alone. On the seat was this other gift, you sigh. He's killing you with all the gifts.

The little note attached to the black box reads "Open me" next to a heart he obviously drew. Inside was this lock bracelet from Tiffany.

"You're just the best 😍" you text him with a picture of the bracelet on you.

He was so excited for you to arrive. His foot is moving with impatience. He wants you to know he's all you need.

He knows that he's going out his way, giving you a little more than necessary, but he has all the money in the world when it comes to you. Never checking the price tag. It was for you so he didn't care how much.

"Hey handsome, care if I sit?" You whisper in his ear, making he shiver. He gets up to pull your chair out for you. "Thank you, such a gentleman." You kiss his cheek before taking a seat.

"I just want you to know how much I love you." He says, sitting back on the chair. "I'll do anything for you."

"Even if that meant going bankrupt for me." You joke. He laughs loud, not caring about people or nothing. You love seeing him like that, so free, so happy.

"I'll give you everything you want."

"I know, you know I'll do that too, just not that crazy with diamonds. But I'm all yours if that make it up."

You both talk about everything and nothing at the same time, Kylian rambles about life, sports, and his family. And you do the same.

"You know what's funny?" You ask him, ready to confess the whole bouquet thing. Knowing all his doing is his normal self but also is a little him being jealous.

"Tell me, amour." He grabs your hands. Bringing them to his mouth.

"You did all of this for some flowers."

You don't miss the way his body pauses for a second. He's not making eye contact like before. "What?- What are you talking about?" He laughs nervously.

"You got jealous because someone sent me that bouquet, so you started to send me more flowers, some chocolate, food, coffee, you did all of this." You drink your wine, enjoying how his mind is working trying to make an excuse.

"I don't recall, maybe you're confused." He says, eating more of his food.

"So you don't recall calling me eight times because you didn't send me that beautiful peonies bouquet?" You ask again. He's just shaking his head and eating. "Well, I do, and I got to thank my friend for sending it."

He choke on a piece of stake, coughing dramatically. "You have to what now?" He asks after a big sip of wine.

You explain to him everything. He's embarrassed for believing you meant you weren't coming because you were so busy that you couldn't even answer his texts.

After reassuring him, it was okay, but agreeing on talking more openly when this kind of doubt ran his head. He apologized, and you did too.

With him, everything is easy. Talking, laughing, and loving. He's yours, and you're his. No matter the gifts , the trips, the busy schedule. He's yours and only yours yo admire, to love and to share a life with.

"Let's pay and go home, champ," you say, making a signal to the waiter to bring you the check. "I promise you I was making it up to you for all the gifts." You caress his hand with your nails. Thing that he loves.

"You know you don't have to."

"Oh, I want to." You intertwine your hands. "Hope you still have that Miami energy. You'll need it for the night."

[tragicallycrispygirl]

Watched the battle balance trailer - WHAT THE FUCK. ABSOLUTELY AND UTTERLY HORRIFYING.

Faust, Bedman, Axl, Happy Chaos, Ky, Giovanna, I-no, Millia, Jack-o, Aba, and Asuka look mostly the same I really don't know what was going on in there - I wonder if those are going to be frame data improvements? If you know better please tell me

Slayer's 6K feint is now, like, an actual move instead of just a joke due to being very fast. Fuck you.

Ramlethal has midscreen sword stick - it also looks like her flip is an overhead now maybe? (Genuinely I saw midscreen sword stick and fucking dropped my phone lmao I was shaken to my core) Also, she can cancel into sword slam (214H) now, which I think is a change that makes sense. I don't think it'll really affect anything combo routing wise as I don't think it recovers quickly enough to combo into itself or calvados on wall stick, but I might be wrong. Also it's -24 so who cares lol it'll be a yolo frametrap. It seems like they're trying to buff her midscreen presence though. Being able to end any combo with 214H gives pretty good Oki anywhere (look I might be wrong it's been ages since I played any ram)

Johnny has his mist finer projectile clash back like he did in XRD (did he have that before?)

Testament stain pop on throw is very very scary, and it also looks like crow now has basically no blockstun and can be used for interesting PRC strike/throw setups for full combos

Baiken now gets better reward off S Kabari and has a... Weird looking parry? I almost wonder if they're giving her another version of it that just inflicts the guard crush and doesn't do the full throw but is safer but idk that seems insane

Sin gets raw gazelle step, and also seems to be able to combo naturally off of his follow-up specials? Could he do that before? All I've ever seen was corner tyrant barrel kara cancels

Pot can now flick Asuka cubes (thank fucking god that matchup is hellish) and gets ARMORED POTEMKIN BUSTER FUCKING HOLY SHIT

Anji can now cancel Fujin into Fujin into maybe another Fujin? It's hard to tell. Looks like you can throw between fujins maybe, to make it not completely obnoxious?

Goldlewis almost made me start crying, as he can now cancel Behemoth Typhoons into each other (so he can just fucking explode you with very little effort, natural BT-BT-BT combos will do fucking crazy damage even just from the affect it has on combo decay alone) and it also looks like maybe the gravity scaling is affected? HOWEVER: it costs one half of the security gauge to cancel a BT into a BT. I like that actually, it'll make for more mindful security gauge usage and not relegate it to "I win neutral now." Also, 426H seems to have some kind of vacuum hitbox now? Either it's going to have some sweet spot stuff for wallbounce combos or the cancelled version will have different properties

Sol can combo into HMC. I wouldn't be surprised if they nerf the damage, or maybe it'll just be like HPB? ALSO: HE CAN CANCEL INTO FAFNIR. EITHER THAT OR 6S HAS REDUCED RECOVERY. That's fucking insane. Just completely insane. I'm hoping they give it a different version that can be cancelled into that does less damage or something but that seems REALLY strong. And Fafnir wallbounces now (if I'm wrong and he could already do these things let me know but I'm not all-to familiar with Sol)

Chipp... Tightrope combos and mix... Looks cool? It looks like he just gets good corner carry (I do not play this character or really know how he works at all)

Zato command grab refills eddy very good very nice

Nagoriyuki also looked fucking insane, he can now naturally combo off of blood rage. It looks like the point of it is going to be for after a wallstick, but mark my words there will be routes that go into it before that to get big damage. Overall it doesn't look like it'll do anything other than making Shizu loops better but importantly - his blood rage super now seems to INSTANTLY APPLY the 50% health decrease. I feel like there's more behind the scenes that will be unveiled once the patch drops. The only effect I see currently is that Nago will rob the fuck out of you more often (for example, he has a CH Shizu loop that kills Ky at 57% with 0 RISC, I imagine this change will just push that somewhere into 60% but guts is weird so I'm not sure)

May is different somehow idk sorry I barely see her and could never play her

Elphelt can now combo into her grab super (this patch is just make all the grab supers unblockable hitgrabs huh) which will mean that: people actually use it and it isn't just a waste of meter lol

The new song is VERY good

Overall it looks fun and I'm excited to test stuff when the patch comes out. The thing I like about it is that they seem to be leaning into the XRD feel of "everyone gets fucked up bullshit, so it works out to some sort of balance à la when everyone's super no-one will be." Very cool.

[ms-demeanor]

I appreciate your calm-the-fuck-down post a lot, ngl - from following you, I've seen you have a pretty good handle on understanding what ToS does and doesn't say, and are good at explaining the difference - and I was hoping you could give some insight on whether or not the actually clicking the 'I agree to terms of service' button (note: multi-step process) required to turn off the New! flag makes a difference in the level of data collected - I would expect at the very least it would act as a gateway for whether or not user data is shared with the third party integration, but legalese isn't my field of study.

Agreeing to the ToS to get the little notification thing to turn off would allow tumblr live to share the data that it collects with 3rd party apps and would allow tumblr live to collect location data from your device whether or not you are actively using the app; whether you want to do this is up to you. I do generally recommend having location tracking shut off at a device level, which makes this data collection pretty useless, but I recognize that most people don't have location tracking turned off on their phones.

*HOWEVER*

People are talking about doing this to turn off the New! flag (which IS very annoying) but the most recent post from @changes makes it clear that that is an ongoing bug they are working on; Tumblr has been pretty decent recently about following up on the info they post about on the changes blog and I see no reason to believe that they won't get that bug fixed pretty quickly.

Rather than agree to the ToS I would suggest waiting a few days because I very much doubt that will stick around for long.

And this is not directed at you but I want to use this ask to point to another recent example of tumblr conspiracism: people are seeing the "new" flag as tumblr attempting to force users to agree to the live ToS even as they have offered a longer snooze period and saying that one negates the other - this is being interpreted as malice and a dark pattern and user hostile design.

And I just want to remind people that some time between eight months and a year and a half ago the notifications changed and it was briefly impossible to clear the new flag on the notification button - this is an issue that we've seen tumblr have before with "new" flags after they changed a feature. It's something that people yelled about and sent around guides for blocking the element. It's something that was addressed quickly and was done unintentionally.

I really wish people would stop attributing to malice the bullshit that happens at tumblr that is clearly the result of this website being hilariously broken and held together with hope and chewing gum.

There are ways in which this site is broken that does genuine harm and I'm willing to be cautiously optimistic that the new staff crew is taking steps to fix it (this is about blocked tags; I've been following what various staff members say about this and I have seen small positive steps, staff does seem to be making an effort to unfuck the tags and I can respect that while still being frustrated that it's taking so long). It isn't *good* that the site is held together with chewing gum and hope but it does seem like staff is at least trying to add some popsicle sticks and duct tape to that mix.

The new flag is annoying and I hope they get it fixed quickly and I believe they actually will get it fixed quickly; if you're really bothered by it there's not much harm in accepting the live ToS because the data collected by tumblr live is still pretty minimal compared to most other social media apps, but from a paranoid "fuck all this bullshit" perspective accepting the Live TOS doesn't do much harm at all if you have location data off on your devices (which I think everyone should) and use adblockers (which I think everyone should).

[ninnosaurus]

Three’s a Crowd: Two vs. One

I've had this silly thing from my topside AU in my head for literal AGES now and I just had to write it out.

Contains: Brotherly shenanigans. Mikey and Raph decides to tap dance on Leo's every nerve during a car ride by blasting music Leo can't stand. (It's CupcaKke, they're blasting 'Duck Duck Goose' with the sole purpose of pissing Leo off in public). Bayverse.

Warnings: Vulgar language, but it's literally just song lyrics

Leo laid half on his couch, half off it, his iPad resting on its stand on his plastron. He'd been watching the same livestream for about two hours. Not moving from his place. He was bored. Out. Of. His. Mind.

He'd already done the chores. Laundry was folded and put away. He'd scrolled his forums. Checked the auction sites. Nothing.

Groaning he picked his iPad up, got off the couch and trudged to the kitchen where he heard the familiar tune of a FaceTime call coming in. Touching accept he put the pad on the counter next to the fridge.

"Hey, Raph."

Leo smiled to himself when he heard the familiar sound of a large family in the background.

"Who are you calling?!"

"Guys, guys. Tone it down a notch, yea?"

Raph grunted as he was attacked and his arms pulled down.

"Leo."

Leo chuckled to himself, leaning back and watching Raphael get tugged at. Two faces came into view before his brother managed to yank himself loose. "HI UNCLE LEE!"

"Offsprings. Go harrass your mom instead." He shook his head as his face came back into view. "Tanner and Harls says hey."

The oldest popped a grape into his mouth. "I noticed. What's up?"

"Me and Mike are going grocery shopping, ya in?"

He chewed slowly, contemplating the offer. It's better than sitting at home, but he's also probably going to get shit he don't need.

" 'kay, I'm in. Pick me up in 20?"

"Mhm."

"Hey, boys!"

Their oldest brothers slapped them both on their shoulders as he climbed into the backseat. They chat about anything and everything for a while, until Mikey pipes up as he notice how they get closer to the city.

"Oh, yeah? Ya hear that, Fearless? Mikey has a new sound system."

"Sooo... I got a hold of Don the other week and we put a new sound system in my car."

The turtle next to him picked up on the tone of his brother's voice, catching on right away.

Dread. Fear.

"No!" Grabbing ahold of Raph's back rest he pulls himself forward. "Don't."

At a red light, Mikey pulls his phone up. "Let's try it out!"

All it takes for Leo to want to die is to hear the first sound of the song, before long he's trapped in a car with two brothers singing along to the song.

"Mikey, please turn it off!"

I thought I came but I peed on the dick

Pubic hair got inches, that's weave on the dick

Pussy like a tree, it got leaves on the shit

"Turn it UP? Yeah I can turn it up!" He cackles as he cranks the volume up even more. The bass making the sides of the car vibrate.

"WHAT? NO! Ughh..." Leo rubs his face with his hands before putting them over his ears. He fuckin' hates this music...

"My cakes got fatter by usin' cum as the batter!"

My nudes in your phone, takin' up your data

My cakes got fatter by usin' cum as the batter

Raph nudged Mikey on the arm. "Man, it's WARM out today!"

The voice of Raphael brings Leo back to the now. "No! Absolutely not! Don't you fucking dare do what I think you're about to, Raph!" He looks on in fear as another red light is coming closer and closer, fearing what is about to go down.

"You're right, bro. It IS warm out today. I'll lower the windows for us!"

I only call you Captain, 'cause your dick is off the hook

I can make your dick stand up (are you ready?)

Like Statue of Liberty once we fuck (so hard)

"MICHELANGELO! I am BEGGING YOU! Turn. It. Off or I'm disowning your ugly ass!"

His brother just laughed as he continued to sing along, albeit being way too into it.

"Cut the dick off, took it home with me, 'cause any dick that long, it belong with me"

Just in time for them to stop at a red light. All of the car's windows are down. It was enough for them all to already be famous for being the savior of human kind, and for allowing other mutants to walk the streets.

"This pussy iconic, yeah it moan with me, put your finger in the hole, come bowl with me."

Turn double-dutch with yo' balls while I'm jumpin' on your dick

Tell your grandma sew my pussy, since you split open my clit

Coochie guaranteed to put you to sleep so damn soon

Ridin' on that dick, I'm readin' Goodnight Moon

Ugh... I'm not looking forward to seeing this on Twitter later.

Some girls next to him laughed as he saw them pull up a phone, obviously filming how the youngest was grinding his hips in tune with the song. With Raphael laughing so hard he was having a hard time breathing. Meanwhile, Leo was trying, but failing, to hide from everything.

The brief thought of faking his own death and moving back into the sewers crossed his mind.

Taglist: @redsrooftopprincess, @the-cauldron-witch, I have to tag @thelaundrybitch too because Leo is s u f f e r i n g and needs a hug.

Lemme know if you want on iiiit!

[doodlemancy]

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhh

so here's the deal re: this fucking horseshit. god i hate this.

i, personally, have mostly given up on trying to dodge inclusion in AI datasets. the stuff i make generally isn't what they're looking for anyway and there's no real way to 100% avoid being scraped short of becoming entirely invisible online, which would um, lead to me having no money and dying. that's part of the cruelty of all this, but also, in a way, it's the same risk artists online have always taken; if you want people to see your work, you have to post it knowing that some of those people are fucking lowlife piece of shit scumbags who will try to resell it on redbubble or something for a quick buck. AI is just a new and exhausting way for garbagey people to stink worse. i am not in any way excusing that behavior or trying to imply people should not be mad about it or that we shouldn't condemn this move and fight back. "if you don't want your work stolen, don't put it online" is the kind of shitty Internet Tough Guy talk i've always hated since my dA days. it's as useless and heartless as telling people that if they don't want their bikes stolen, they shouldn't leave them at the bike rack. i'm saying that i, personally, will not let a bunch of soulless thieving shitheads drive me offline. i belong here. they belong in a wifi-proof dumpster.

nightshade and glaze eat my artwork alive. they make it look terrible. when you have to sell things on the basis that they look nice, it's a big problem when protective measures make them look like dogshit. my work is not a good candidate for these processes. even if that weren't the case, i don't have the stamina, especially right now while my chronic pain is flaring for the third month in a row and my adhd meds are scarce, to go back and shade/glaze everything, and it wouldn't work on reblogs anyway. given the way midjourney and its equally stinky siblings have already scraped years and terabytes' worth of image data from popular websites, it doesn't seem worth my time. if you think it is worth yours i am not going to like, yell at you. i am just one person. but i want to be clear about the kind of situations some of us are being forced into.

i think some of the doomsaying about AI and what it will do to us has been overblown-- they need you, for marketing purposes, to believe that someday their shitty robot will be as good at "drawing" and as practical to work with as a human-- but the consequences of "AI" (which is not even actually AI) are already real and visible and obvious to anyone paying attention. i unfortunately am not infinitely wise and powerful and therefore do not have an ideal all-encompassing solution to this deeply stupid problem that the Most Unlikeable Manbabies On Earth have imposed on us after NFTs fizzled out.

what i do have is a very large repository of nice anime and game screenshots i've taken, knowledge of many archives of nice public domain images, a computer that can run nightshade overnight or while i'm off doing other things, and, most importantly, near-infinite capacity for pettiness. i do kinda feel like the jury is still out on how well nightshade/glaze will work in the long run, but in the meantime, i suppose it wouldn't cost me a lot to... perhaps... every time i get Mad About AI™, channel that anger into dumping some thoroughly-but-not-spammily-tagged, high-quality, inconspicuous poison onto this godforsaken hellsite via a secret side blog. i could make a batch of poison ahead of time, keep it on my phone, use my Toilet Scrolling Time or my Public Transit Time to post and tag up an image here and there. it could be a fun challenge to try to make some pretty robot poison that some humans will still enjoy.

the other thing we need to poison at this point, IMO, is the word "AI" itself, by being loudly and mercilessly critical of any company that dabbles in it, the same way we all clowned on any company that pushed their luck with NFT/crypto shit a couple of years ago. we need to have every corporation terrified that association with AI will tank their sales and hurt their brand. AI must = number go down and lots of people screaming at you. companies will fuck around. we must provide the finding-out. we shouldn't have to. but we can!

so make sure to let tumblr know you hate this. maybe you could include this interesting link (tw child abuse) about how Stable Diffusion was trained on some extremely serious crime. or these screenshots of Midjourney devs just sort of admitting what their whole thing is, which i got here but which have kinda been spread all over since January.

spite and anger can be forms of hope. that's all i have to say, or at least all i'm willing to type with my left hand tonight.

[streetlightyeri]

Would you ever write for Scott from twisters?

I am in the midst of writing something for him! I have three fics in the works (part 2 for tyler, the main fic that "false god" fits in for boone, and one for scott). they're all based off of Zach Bryan songs.

I just feel like everything I'm writing sounds like I'm illiterate. It's very hard for me to write things that don't have extensive backstories (ig that's what a masters degree in creative writing does to a person lol), so I have to actively fight myself to not write 100 pages of fanfiction about a side character that gets 10 minutes of screen time bc literally no one would read that. for reference of how inane I am when I write: I am currently searching academic sources to get an understanding of sound wave acoustics bc I've decided one of my characters will have a PhD in it - like what is my problem, this is a movie about TORNADOES. anyway lol here's a little sneak peek for the Scott fic. very rough - hasn't been proof read even once. <3

“ASPEN!” It felt like the world was spinning around him, as though he was the center of the tornado. He had his hat clenched in his hand. He felt his lunch fighting to come up. All around him was destruction with a death toll of 14 and climbing. If she was one of them, he wouldn’t know what he would do. He had searched every same piece of rubble that was once her grandmother’s house and had no luck.

Javi walked up to the Tornado Wrangler crew with arms extended in a gesture that one would use when approaching a bull. “I understand you do not want to see me, but trust me, we are not working these people.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Scott scouring what he could only imagine was the remnants of her room for the 3rd time. He pulled his phone and swiped to the photo Scott shared with him. He turned it to the group. “Have you seen this girl?”

Tyler blinked a moment too long and a tanned girl with cropped hair swallowed harshly. Dani was her name, if Javi remembered correctly. She stepped away from the table where she was handing out food and pulled Javi to the side. “It’s bad. I found her in that flipped StormPar truck pinned to the seat by an old iron post through the chest. It didn’t seem like she was trying to take cover, more like she was trying to grab something because this was in her hand.”

Dani handed him a hunk of plastic that would’ve seemed like nothing to someone else. But Javi knew: this was the StormPar data. She could very well be dead, all because she didn’t want Scott to lose everything from the Par.

“It . . . I thought she was dead, her breathing was so shallow. I’m a trained EMT, so I almost called it. Anyone else would have. But she twitched, so I investigated some more. I had to trach her to keep the stress off her heart. Tyler and I put her in an ambulance with the post still in about 20 minutes ago.”

Javi turned to run to get Scott, but Dani’s hand gripped his upper arm, forcing him to turn back to her.

She leveled her eyes with his, steeling her voice. “I can guess who she is to him. She may not have even made it to the hospital. Her breathing depends on how well the EMTs can bag her. What he sees may scar him. He may be identifying her. Make sure he is prepared. Do not give him false hope.”

Javi gave one strong nod. “Thank you.” He glanced at the rest of the group who pretended to not be listening. “Y’all are good people.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile and let him go, watching as he ran to Scott who had screamed himself hoarse. Javi slipped the data pack into his back pocket; the reason she was in that truck was not something he was going to be telling Scott, at least not at that time. Javi tried to explain everything else, but the second the word ambulance came out of Javi’s mouth, Scott was running for the truck. Javi had to tackle him against the door and take the keys from him. “You are not stable enough to drive.”

Scott would’ve argued any other time, but every second he spent outside the vehicle was one where he could be on the way to see her. He complied, climbing into the passenger seat.

[archeolatry]

Recently I've been trying to remind myself to take in more "slow media" (akin to the "slow food" movement)- less content, more longform art. I've dusted off a very old list of films that I haven't seen but should, gleaned from the AFI Top 100. Some of it is patience-testing, from musicals (My Fair Lady) to epics (Lawrence of Arabia). Most of it is stuff that didn't necessarily appeal to me initially but is one of those Movies One Should Watch: From Here to Eternity or The Wild Bunch. And some of them are shameful, glaring gaps from the days before you could instantly stream gigabytes of data per second through a screen and into your faceholes. A film of the latter variety is The Third Man.

I watched it last night to keep from doomscrolling and doom-refreshing. (A strange and fascinating choice, in retrospect.) I had heard the above speech before, but in the context of the film it hits even harder. It's not exactly true —Germany invented the cuckoo clock, for one thing— but this speech, as well as others most of Orson Welles' film-defining dialogue, shows you just what kind of man Harry Lime is.

Like the protagonist, we're swayed by Harry's charisma even as we are repulsed by his words. By vastly oversimplifying a paradigm-shifting period in human history and adding a little rosy hindsight, what Harry's saying almost makes sense in a 'big picture' kind of way. But when you find out how Harry made his money and the human toll it took, the picture becomes much, much smaller. It's a great promise to think that hard times may make you into another DaVinci, but it is perhaps more likely that you'll simply be poor and die of the plague.

Relatable, right?

I guess what I'm saying is this: Watch a classic film. Really watch it. Even if that actor or director is "problematic". Put your phone away, even if you feel the urge to look up something that you think will clarify an aspect of what you're watching. Be discomforted. Ask what the film is trying to say. Read or watch The Celluloid Closet. Try to see what's between the lines. Buy physical copies of media you treasure. Put it in your memory where it can't be deleted from collective consciousness. So many classic films —Spartacus and High Noon, just to name a few— were allegories necessitated because of The Hays Code. And whatever censorship Project 2025 has coming down the pike means the great possibility that something like the Hays Code may exist again. Media literacy is going to be more important than ever. You will be forced to learn the differences between queerbaiting and queer coding, because coding might be the most queerness you get. Sometimes ancient Rome is just ancient Rome, and sometimes it's Hollywood under a combination of self-preserving, self-enforced guidelines and government witch hunting overseen by a petty tyrant.

We've seen this shit before.

[kleefkruid]

Hi,

If it's not too personal to ask how do you manage so many friends and relationships as an autistic person, quite frankly I'm in awe and want to know your secrets because I suck at it badly and I'm quite lonely.

Hi anon! I actually don't have too big of a social circle. Well in the eyes of the average person who does not have social issues. But while I don't have data on the amount of friends autistic people have, I think we can safely assume it tends to be lower than the average.

But that wasn't the question, so I'm gonna break down where my relationships (general) come from, from obvious to more complicated.

Firstly I have a pretty good relationship with my family. So, I'm often out and about with my mum, and when I get too lonely I can call her so she's kinda the baseline. I also do trips with my step-sister. We did not grow up together (8 year age gap, I was out of the house when she arrived) but we have a lot in common and do art shows together, free friend.

Secondly, dating. I'm better at dating than making friends tbh. I use dating apps, always. Here I honestly have the advantage that I have a pretty agreeable face. It's a pretty basic maths game. I'm thin, I have red hair, I dress fairly feminine, I get responses. However personality wise I'm very authentic on there so a lot of these conversations end pretty fast haha. But because I have a pretty high first response rate, I also get the people who like it when you're a bit odd. I always try to keep the talking online part pretty short.

Thirdly, the first way I make friends is mooching off my family and friends. This is a time honoured practice amongst autistics. As a young child I would get put in the same hobbies as my cousins, and so when the friends from our hobby invited my cousin somewhere, they kinda had to ask me too. As an adult you can pretty much do the same thing, although it's pretty much more accepted now, most notably in the concept of bringing around a partner. Most people I've met the past year have been trough my partner. I met their housemates by well, being in the house, I've met their colleagues in the tattooshop, I've met other friends and I've also just met a lot of their aquintances. Because they do tattoo events, in a pub for instance, and I helped, the people in this pub know me now too. The first time I'm just 'some date' helping out. But now they know me as a seperate person. I can run into these people and have a talk with them. My partners best friend liked my badges, and I said she could try making some if she wanted. So we did that. I would not know any of these people without my partner. Some of them will always be my partners friend first, but there are some of their aquintances I know better now, because I ran into them more often, or we had something in common my partner doesn't.

The fourth part is the difficult one. That's just straight up talking to new people without any mediator. Generally this is easiest done where nobody else knows each other either. For instance when you start a new degree, everyone is generally pretty open to talking to new people because well, everyone is new. Some people might already be paired up but they generally want to know more people. I started a degree this year. So I've been talking to new people there. Some people made it easy, like a guy who went round asking everyones phone numbers to start a class whatsapp. Besides that it's just the classic kinda forced ways, like when you're both clearly walking into the same direction and you already know this person is in your class but you still go "hey, you're also in (class) right? Good, I'm going the right direction then!" it's all scripts too honestly, we're not the only ones that resort to those. Outside classic settings like a new school it's a bit more complicated, but the art is figuring out when people do like to have a new conversation. For instance today I did an art market again. You're put next to random people, and you're there for hours. No matter how good the day goes, there are boring bits. When people are insanely bored, they're pretty happy to talk, espectially about their passions. So I'll ask how their sales are going, which immediately turns into a conversation about their work. I also will ask them to watch my stuff while I go to the toilet, and then tell them I don't mind doing the same for them. People seem to prefer that order over me just going "hey I can watch your stuff," they'll accept my help when they've already helped me.

You probably notice this is a lot of analysing. I do that a lot. I see what other people say to initiate conversations, make note, and try the same sentence later. It's not like masking bc I'm still being myself, but I'm utulising other peoples social skills just like you'd use cooking techniques you've observed. If you bake a succesful cake you're not fake baking, and if you make a genuine fun social connection it's not masking either. My partner is very good at talking to new people bc their job is to make people comfortable before stabbing them with many tiny needles. So I've been learning a lot from them. I have another friend who will not initiate so many conversations, but who is very chill and just inviting like that. I also try to take from that.

I also try to keep a lot of tiny little doors open. If someone is interested in a material I use, I'll go "if you want the link, message me sometime, here's my instagram. Offering to make buttons with my partners friend is also an open door. I didn't say "we should do that" I went "If you want to try sometime, I can send you the template, just let me know!" and they did come back to it. Often people don't, but often they do. Because I left an open invitation. When I post an event I'm doing or Danny is doing on here, that's also an open door. Much more general and less people will respond to that bc it's general, but some people do!

This is very specific to my situation, but it is a breakdown of what I do! Today on an art market I ran into some friends of my sister. I ran into 2 people I had a conversation with after one got a little tattoo at Danny's event. I also talked to my neighbors at the table. I talked to someone I previously bought art from. Yesterday I was out with my dad I ran into a friend of my mums, and a girl who got a tattoo last time at the pub event. It's all tiny networks. All these people (except my mums friend) I've met in the past year and a half. Just continuously going out. Sometimes trough people, sometimes by doing things on my own, like the art market, or school.

and yes doing this is all still stressful haha, I was diagnosed with social phobia only 3 years back. It's constant exposure therapy. I still go "oh why did I say that" multiple times a day. but yet people do want to hang out with me. Not all as intensely, but enough to have fun and not be lonely every day. Still some days, but always getting better.

this is a very long answer but you know, the autism is in the details, if I'd say "oh you know I just talk to people" that would be no use :)

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Compartmentalize (NSFW)

A/N: Aaaa I've been gone for some time (was busy with doing my urban fantasy AU found here), and I haven't been active in my socials including Twitter...I hope I can muster the will to do housekeeping and updating links. RL stuff is just getting a bit too much these days...

NSFW. Dr. Vyn Richter navigates his emotions with the help of his trusty dictaphone. Or, Vyn gets his own bad end. Crossposted from AO3 here

[0:00 - 0:37]

Dr. Vyn Richter

Patient is neatly groomed. Mood and affect is moderately dysthymic. Speech is normal in rate, rhythm, and volume as sampled in this recording. He is moderately distracted, with thoughts that are slightly tangential. Insight and judgment is impaired, with a tendency for emotionally-driven decisions. He has persistent, intrusive thoughts of his limerent object for the past fourteen hours and twenty five minutes since waking up at nine this morning.

[0:37 - 0:50]

Dr. Vyn Richter

Thoughts of jealousy, stemming from mild obsessive behavior towards limerent object have been observed, leading to difficulty with focus and concentration causing two instances of critical lapse in decision making.

“You’re doing it again.” Marius snapped his fingers in front of Vyn’s face, only to have his hand slapped away.

“Stop that,” Vyn muttered, reaching for his cup of tea. “What was I doing again, pray tell?” He took a sip, then made a face once he found out it had long gone cold. Irritated, he slammed the cup back into its saucer, spilling amber liquid all over his documents piled on the glass conference table. “Fuck.”

“Zoning out. Focus, will you?” Marius groused as he closed the document folder in his hands. It was obvious to him that Vyn couldn’t crunch data off the top of his head in his current state of mind. “I don’t like staying here past seven either, but we’ve got a job to do.” He tossed the folder onto the table and reached out for his tablet. “How about you take a quick look at this instead—”

The door to the files room opened, but Marius did not take notice; he was busy flipping through the documents on his tablet to look for the one he needed feedback on. “Vyn—ah, damnit.” 

Vyn wasn’t zoning out yet again, but Marius thought what he did was way worse: the doctor’s hawkish gaze was trained at the recently opened door, or more specifically, the couple who had emerged from the files room: Luke and Rosa. 

Marius, with his gift for observation that was mostly used in his art endeavors, easily picked out how the doctor’s fingernails dug into his thighs. He was sure that Vyn would bleed it if it weren’t for the sturdy fabric of his khakis. “Vyn?” No response; the doctor was already burning holes onto the backs of his colleagues, both too preoccupied with their light-hearted bantering over their smartphones to notice Vyn’s all-too bitter glaring.

[0:50 - 0:59]

Dr. Vyn Richter

I am looking in the mirror, my rose. Beholding the just deserts of our stubbornness. It is a tragedy that we have to hide the truth about ourselves, what we feel for each other, this beautiful thing that we have nurtured together.

Oh boy. Marius gave up and grabbed his bag to stuff his things, resigned that he would have to wait till their next meeting to get something pertinent out of his usually fastidious tutor. Whatever.

Luke was mumbling something as he hunched over Rosa’s shoulder, pointing at whatever was displayed on her screen. They seemed a little too intimate for work colleagues; Luke pulled Rosa closer to him, his arm wrapped around her as he fiddled with her phone’s display. 

[1:05 - 1:13]

Dr. Vyn Richter

Try as we might to separate our personal lives from the professional, the world is trying to take advantage of the consideration that we allow them at the expense of our own needs and desires, Rosa, do you not see it? 

Marius wasn’t surprised to see Vyn finally flipping his lid when Luke whispered something to her ear, his lips dangerously close to her face as if he was kissing her cheek.

“Luke, Rosa,” the doctor began, his voice controlled yet loud enough to easily fill the entirety of the sizable conference room. “If you could please keep your voices down. Marius and I are trying to do work here.” 

No we aren’t, because someone here is stewing in his jelly juices, Marius thought to himself. He would have said it out loud, but he did not feel like getting in the crosshairs of his tutor’s ire at the moment. 

“I have no qualms about any of us pursuing personal relationships, but if you could please exercise enough restraint to keep your flirting outside of working hours?” Vyn, despite his flat, emotionless tone, wasn’t giving any quarter. “I did not sign up for this circus.”

Marius threw the doctor a look that said Are you fucking serious? and nervously shifted his sights towards Luke and Rosa. As he expected, Luke was positively incensed, and Rosa was nothing but downright mortified.

“If you’ve got more to say about me and her catching up, why don’t we take this outside?” Luke nudged Rosa to stand behind him, but she didn’t budge; she remained rooted on the spot, her face red with embarrassment. 

“That is not necessary,” Vyn said, his voice clipped. “I am done here. You two can carry on with your business. I care not.”

Marius merely watched as Vyn stiffly gathered his things to leave the conference room; held his breath in anticipation when the doctor had to pass Luke to get to the door—only to be grossly disappointed when they merely stared each other down.

“I bid you a good evening, Rosa,” Vyn said quietly, his eyes never leaving Luke as he addressed her. “Enjoy your time together.”

[1:14 - 1:21]

Dr. Vyn Richter

Do you not see how much it tears me apart?

Later that night.

He drove his head deeper into his pillows, relishing the warmth and wetness of her mouth wrapped around his cock. He let out a moan as she did her best to deepthroat him; he had told her that she didn’t need to, yet Rosa was adamant to try pleasuring him. 

Perhaps as a way to make up for what happened back in the headquarters.

The earnestness of her efforts alone was enough to send him almost weeping in his own bed, a mere few minutes until midnight, way past his routine bedtime. But he did not care; sticking to a healthy routine was important if he were to maintain his mental acuity, yet at that moment nothing mattered to the doctor than feeling his lover’s hot, wet tongue swirling around his tip, and how her small lips were stretched to accommodate his girth as much as she could. His head spun in pleasure; the thick thread of precum leaking into her sucking mouth betrayed just how much he had waited for relief.

The muscles of his inner thighs tightened; he was getting near. His fingers twitched and sought her auburn tresses, unsure where they needed to be in his sudden bout of kindness, only for his care and restraint to be undone as she started sucking in earnest; her hand wrapped around the rest of his shaft and jerking off what her mouth couldn’t fit. Shuddering breaths quickly turned to needy gasps as he grabbed fistfuls of her hair, and begged for her to let him come—

But she only stopped and drew back, his still rock-hard cock slipping out of her lips.

Vyn almost wept in abject frustration. “Rosa, I—” His strangled voice told a little too much of just how much of his control was lost, only for him to be thwarted at the last minute. “...Why?”

“You didn’t have to antagonize him,” Rosa muttered, wiping the mixture of spit and precum off her lips with the back of her hand. “He was just showing me the videos he took from his last assignment.” Her olive eyes were clouded with such a mixture of emotions that Vyn couldn’t discern, not when he was too vexed after being deprived of release all too suddenly. 

Was it anger? Resentment? Regret? 

In the end he decided that none of those mattered, and he roughly pulled Rosa closer to him for a lingering kiss that told of his simmering desire for her, long ignored and neglected during the daytime. “I do not like how he holds you as if you were his possession,” he murmured against her lips, his arms snaking possessively around her sweat-slickened body. “Only I have the right to do so, Rosa. My love.” 

[1:25 - 1:37]

Dr. Vyn Richter

Only I should see your smile. Only I should hear you speak, in that sweet voice only your lover should hear. Only I should feel you. Around me. In me. Your intoxicating scent as we make love, only I should know of it. 

“I keep on telling you, we were only—ah—” Her protests died in her throat as Vyn pushed her down onto the mattress. “This wouldn't even be a problem if we'd only admit to our rela—” 

“Sssh.” Once again Vyn interrupted her from voicing out her grievance, this time with his slender finger across her grumbling lips. “We have already talked about this, pet.” He spared her from his usual vague platitudes about keeping things professional. Now wasn’t the time. The indignation he had to go through a few moments ago was still swimming in his bloodstream, but the need to sate his hunger was paramount. 

He spread her thighs open, and a dark chuckle rose from his throat. Despite her misgivings aimed at him the lurid sight of her wet and swollen flesh between her thighs betrayed just how much she was indeed his. 

She throbbed for him, and not for whoever she was with during the daytime, certainly not her childhood friend, try as hard as Luke might to worm his way into her heart by taking advantage of their shared memories. 

Memories that will be easily edged out by the lifetime of midnights shared only between the doctor and his precious rose. 

He could feel his dick harden even more at the thought.

His blood sang in triumph. 

“I will now take what is rightfully mine,” he whispered, licking his lips as he pushed her thighs further apart.

[1:40 - 1:59]

Dr. Vyn Richter

I knew my obsession with you was far too dangerous to allow unimpeded, but still I happily indulged in it, devoting my time and energy to your altar. You made me realize how much of a hypocrite I am, that I am no better than any man, just another someone who would squander everything in pursuit of that one woman. 

His bedroom was filled with nothing but shared sighs and ragged moans as he sank deep into her, inch by delicious inch, into her hole. He threw his head back, closing his eyes as he relished the heat inside her cunt grasp his cock perfectly as if it was made for him. Yes. For him only, she was his alone, of that there was never any doubt. They fit perfectly, both of them pieces of a puzzle they did not know they needed to solve until their first touch. Vyn knew there was no one else made for him. He was going to make her his, in every sense of the word, but that was for later.

“Sing for me, Rosa,” he murmured, hands sliding down to her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist. “I want to hear your voice. Tell me you are mine,” he demanded, his voice a touch too needy for his liking. It was difficult to grasp what little composure he had left with how good her hot cunt felt around him. 

With a snap of his hips he bottomed out inside her; her moans of pleasure music to his ears as he started moving. 

“Vyn, Vyn, I—nngh—” There was no hope for Rosa to come up with coherent words, not with how she helplessly clung to his shoulders, her legs greedily pulling his hips back to hers in time with his hard, deep thrusts. “Yours, I’m…ahh—” Tears pricked the edges of her eyes, to his utter, unhinged delight; a sinister laugh rose from his lips the moment he felt her fingernails drag across the skin of his back, no doubt drawing blood. That is fine, he thought as he hissed in the pain and licked his lips, his darkened gaze locking onto her unfocused olive stare that told of just how far gone she was in her head, focusing on the climax steadily building as he pounded into her, over and over. 

“I need to…come. Please,” she managed to whisper, her weakened voice almost inaudible as he kept on rutting into her mercilessly. “Please, Vyn,” she whimpered, one of her hands letting go of his shoulder to reach down between her bodies. 

He was going to let herself reach her precipice first, but the feel of her hand desperately rubbing her clit—her knuckle grazing his cock as he kept on fucking her the way God intended him to do her—pushed him past the point of no return. With a loud, guttural moan he burst his hot seed inside her. 

She is like a drug, he decided as he slumped over her body, fully spent; and as she came, her cunt milking him for all he was worth with each orgasmic spasm, he knew that his spiraling obsession for her would lead him to nowhere but the abyss, and there was no hope for him to turn back and save himself. 

[2:05 - 2:12]

Dr. Vyn Richter

It is unfortunate that you know this side of me, my love. And I cannot afford to let others know of how much of my control I lose over you.

At exactly one in the morning she was already fully dressed, her smartphone in her hand as she booked for a taxi to come pick her up from Vyn’s place.

“Rosa, being out alone at this hour is unwise,” Vyn said, still naked on his bed. “At the very least please give me a few minutes to dress myself and I will drive you home.” 

He wanted to tell her that he’d rather she stay the night, for her to sleep beside him, but many things have already been said between them; it was much too late for him to renege on what they have already agreed upon, in the interests of compartmentalizing their romantic entanglement away from their professional lives and, in Vyn’s case, duty of his birthright.

And so all he could do was slip on his robe and see her out his door.

[2:23 - 2:52]

Dr. Vyn Richter

I will now come out and say it: You own me, my beloved. Me, and everything it entails. You own my thoughts, and my feelings. I cannot help it, your ownership of me is etched into my very being. You must bear responsibility for this, my rose. I place my fate into your hands.

“I will miss you, Rosa of my heart,” Vyn solemnly said, reaching out to her with the intent of holding her hand. 

His fingers could only brush the back of her hand as she drew back and away from his grasp. 

“I know,” was all she said before she stepped out through the door.

[2:52 - 3:01]

Dr. Vyn Richter

But the world is not yet ready to know this. Not yet.

They passed by each other the following morning, when he took it upon himself to personally deliver subpoenaed documents for a high profile case Themis Law was currently working on. 

Vyn, on his way to Artem’s office, went past the pantry where he saw Rosa poring over documents spread out over the table with a mug of coffee in her hand.

He was about to approach her and say hello but Artem beat him to it, pulling a chair beside her. Vyn could only look on as the senior attorney huddled closer to his junior, going over the specifics of whatever the documents contained, sharing a laughter or two during their impromptu meeting in the pantry.

He could only watch as Celestine approached the two, loudly calling Rosa ‘Ms. Wing’ in jest, and tasked both attorneys to attend a business function together in her stead. An out of town business trip. Easily two or three days, out in the country together. 

I have intruded on her business enough. The doctor pivoted on his heel and strode over to Kiki’s cubicle instead. “Hello, Miss Kiki,” he said in his bright voice usually reserved for the most reticent of patients. “Wing seems to be preoccupied at the moment.” He handed her the folder, along with his favorite green striped pen for her to sign the receipt slip with. “Would you be a dear and receive these documents for me?” 

The bespectacled intern was quite surprised to see him, and her cheeks bloomed easily in his presence, ducking her head as she clumsily signed her name at the bottom of the receipt. It did not take her a minute before she handed him back his pen and the signed receipt. 

Vyn let their fingers brush against each other as he accepted the items. “Thank you.”

“Y-you’re welcome, Dr. Richter,” Kiki chirped, then surreptitiously hid her furious blush behind the documents folder. 

He briefly wondered how easily it would be to bed the pretty, yet painfully shy intern, to fill the gaps of his immensely lonely nights, but shoved it out of his mind just as quickly. 

Nobody deserves to be hurt by petty jealousies, and people who manipulate others with the promise of love are nothing but despicable. He knew this very well.

His heart hurt.

Left with no reason for him to linger, his business finally done, Vyn decided to retreat into the comfort and semblance of control that his research center afforded him.

Yet before he could step into the elevator to leave the premises, Rosa emerged from the pantry and brushed past him, Artem in tow. 

Their eyes briefly met, only for her to look away and place her hand on her boss’s arm, to Artem’s obvious surprise.

Vyn merely pursed his lips.

“Wing, I left the documents with Kiki,” was all the doctor said, after giving them a curt nod. “Have a good day. I shall take my leave now.”

[0:00 - 2:19]

Dr. Vyn Richter

The patient is appropriately dressed but disheveled. He would describe his mood as ‘within limits’. His thought process lacks flow. It has been sixteen hours and seventeen minutes since waking up at nine this morning, and thoughts of jealousy have consumed his sensorium. I am nothing without you, my rose, and I…

[The recording is cut off here. Faint sound of glass shattering could be heard in the background]

[tomionefinds]

muggle au recs plz

Hey Anon:

You can also check out our tag here: Muggle AU -Haus

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