#Tried to do something different with my coloring

[lpham2525]

Fey and Firstborn

NOTE: I was inspired to write a Twiyor fic based on the above script fic! Special thanks to deluxeloy!

Loid knew better than to be traveling the Fey Mountains, especially not at twilight, when the Fey were most active. But unlike most other people, who avoided the magical creatures, Loid needed to find one of the Fey, and since the Fey were liminal creatures—somewhere between Fairy and Human—it made sense that they were most likely to be out and about at that ethereal, in-between time of day and night.  

Of course, like all others who sought out the Fey, Loid was desperate. His mother, the last of his family that had survived the war, was wasting away. They had been taking care of each other for the past ten years, but after she had fallen ill some months ago, Loid was afraid he might lose her.  

He had already tried everything: gathered and combined and concocted every herbal brew and potion for her, knocked on neighbors’ doors to ask for advice, consulted every physician and apothecary, tried every remedy he found from the books in the libraries. Nothing had worked. She was fading fast and he needed to do something before...before it was too late.  

Which is how he found himself in the Fey Mountains, having heard of how the Fey granted wishes to mortals willing to pay the price.  

Finally, Loid reached the correct location: a small glade that was filled with roses of all colors and sizes. Rumor had it that roses grew here all throughout the year, even in the coldest winters. His timing was right, too: twilight. 

And there she was, the Fey of the mountains. She was crouched over one of the rose bushes trimming something, her long, dark hair obscuring most of her face. 

“Excuse me,” Loid said, hoping not to scare her. 

Too late. With a scream, she whirled around and almost sliced his face in half with her gardening shears.  

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” both of them cried as they leapt back. Once his heart rate had returned to normal, Loid tried again.  

“Pardon me, but would you happen to be the Fey of the Mountains?” 

“Y-yes,” the Fey responded, “One of them, anyway.”  

Loid was a little more than surprised by her demeanor. He had heard that the Fey were a powerful, proud race, and didn’t take kindly to humans surprising them.  

This one, however...this one was different. With a cascade of gleaming raven hair and deep crimson eyes, she fit the description of Fey beauty, but her personality was...shy. Anxious, almost.  

Nothing spoke of the pride and condescension he had heard about the Fey folk.  

Could it be that she was just as nervous as he was?  

“Good evening,” Loid said, bowing to her. He decided it was best to be polite to her anyway, especially considering he was asking for her help. “My name is Loid, and I’ve come to speak to you about something dearly important to me.” 

“I’m Yor. Um, please have a seat,” she said, gesturing to one of the large, flat rocks in the glade. 

Once Loid had told Yor his story, he quickly opened his bag. “I’d be willing to give you anything I have,” Loid said, in case she was debating on whether or not to accept his request. “I don’t have much money, but I could repay you through labor or...” 

“Well...” the Fey began hesitantly. “I have no need for money or labor, but what I would really like is...a child.”  

“A child?” Loid didn’t know why he sounded surprised at this. It wasn’t unheard of for a Fey to demand a firstborn child as payment for their magic, but the way this Fey had asked for one seemed as if she expected him to say no immediately.  

“Y-yes,” Yor said nervously. “You see, I’ve been by myself ever since my brother moved away, and no one will let me adopt a child since I’m a Fey and...”  

Loid held up his hand. “You don’t need to explain. For the health of my mother, I am willing to give you my firstborn child.”  

Yor stared at him in shock. “You...you really mean it?” she asked, breathless.  

“Yes,” Loid confirmed. While he found it no great sacrifice to give his firstborn child to this strange and beautiful woman, a part of him suddenly found himself wanting to raise this child with her.  

But no, he told himself, dispelling the thought. Most likely, he would not see her or the child anymore once the baby was given up.  

“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.  

Yor stared at it for a moment, as if afraid he might jerk back his hand at the last moment, but then she gingerly took his hand and shook it.

“Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade...” 

“Thank you so much. She means everything to me.” 

“I know,” Yor said, remembering the pain and despair in Loid’s eyes as he related the story of his ailing mother. “Let's hope the price wasn't too much for you after all... Only time will tell.” She rose to leave, but the next words out of Loid’s mouth stopped Yor in her tracks.  

“So, when do we start?”  

“...If I could ask you to elaborate?”  

“You said you wanted my firstborn.” 

“Yes? And you agreed?”  

“Yeah, so, when do we start?”  

The Fey stared at him, her lovely features pinching in confusion. Then her eyes blew wide as his meaning sank in; she blushed as red as her roses. “Ah...”  

And that’s how Loid returned home with not only a Fey wife, but his firstborn child already on the way.  

Even years later, people still whispered about Loid’s journey to the Fey Mountains. How he left to find a cure for his mother and how she miraculously recovered on his return home. How he had surprised his mother with a wife that was not only ethereally beautiful, but incredibly kind. How their firstborn had hair as pink as roses and eyes as green as the Fey Mountains in springtime. How she was an unusually perceptive child, seemingly able to know the thoughts and secrets of everyone, just by being near them. And how they all disappeared one day, spirited back to the Fey Mountains, some say, to live out the rest of their lives in the Fey World.  

Although every so often, people say that one can still see glimpses of the family at twilight, talking and playing and laughing together. And wherever they were glimpsed, pink roses always bloomed there the next day.  

Human: Deal.

Fey: Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade...

Human: Thank you so much. She means everything to me.

Fey: I know, I know. Let's hope the price wasn't too much for you after all... Only time will tell.

Human: So, when do we start?

Fey: ...If I may ask you to elaborate?

Human: You said you wanted my firstborn.

Fey: Yes? And you agreed?

Human: Yeah, so, when do we start?

Fey:

Fey, blushing: Ah.

[crimsonnsstuff]

Dark thanos x babysitter reader she came to babysit thanos ' little sister. 'Cause his parents believe he's not responsible enough to take care of his little sister. Reader tried to befriend thanos but after finding out he's an active drug addict after overhearing his parents convo. So she started to stay away from him. Doing everything possible to Stay out of his sight. When parents are overseas and reader has to work overnight. That's when the took his chance with her. She tells him off she has a bf but thanos doesn't care. Non Con pls <333

It’s not exactly as you requested, but I’m lazy! <3

You recently got a new babysitting job. You were babysitting Thanos’s little sister. Thanos was a grade above him, but you have never talked to him. You’ve heard other people talk about him, and how he’s a junkie, but you didn’t think that was true. Sure, he was a bit eccentric.

You knock on the door. To your surprise, Thanos opens the door. You haven’t really seen him before. He had a controller in his hands and a set of headphones on. He lifts one of the muffs up. “What?” “Oh, hi. I’m here for my babysitting job” you mutter. He opens the door, letting you in.

He plops down on the couch. “My parents will be out in a sec.” He groans before going back to his game. You nod and stand there awkwardly. Suddenly, his parents come out, suitcase in hands. “Oh, hi dear!” His mom exclaims. “Hi,” you say softly.

“Sorry, we are in a rush. Make sure yun-hee is in bed before 9. No food or drinks before 7” she says. You nod, “okay, sounds good!” You say smiling. They both rush out the door. You turn to Thanos.

“Where’s Yun-hee?” You ask. He lifts one muff off his ear. “Who knows, probably sleeping. All that little shit does is sleep.” He groans, putting the muffin back over his ear and going back to playing his video games. You sigh, sitting down on the couch next to him and scrolling on your phone.

The rest of the day you played with Yun-hee, having pretend tea parties, letting her braid your hair. You woke up in the middle of the night. You look over at the clock on the nightstand. It was 2am. You stand up. You were only wearing a pair of underwear and a T-shirt. You throw on a pair of shorts.

You quietly tip-toe out of the guest room. You walk into the kitchen, flicking the light on. There was Thanos, in nothing but grey sweatpants. You gulp. “What are you doing up?” He asks. “I’m thirsty. “Where are the cups?” “Top left cabinet.”

You open the cabinet, pulling out a glass. You put it under the tap, filling it up with water. You turn back to look at Thanos and see him putting something in his mouth. “What’s that?” You ask. He holds up a ziploc baggy with several different colored pills, shaking it. “That shits not good for you.” “Why do you care? You’re not my damn mom.”

You sigh and turn back, sipping out of your glass. You feel two cold hands on your waist. You flinch and turn around. “What the hell are you doing!?” You ask, bringing your hand up to slap him, but he catches it before you do. “Playin around.” He says.

He grabs your other hand, pinning them both in front of you with one hand. He brings his other hand up and squeezes your breast through your shirt. “Thanos..!” You whisper-yell. “I-I have a boyfriend!” He looks around the room. “I don’t see him anywhere.” He says, smirking.

Your heart drops. Was this really about to happen? Your eyes tear up. He grins and picks you up, setting you on the counter. “For me?” He says, looking down at your thin shorts. You sniffle. “Don’t cry yet.” He growls.

He pulls your shorts down, along with your panties. “You’re already wet. You like this.” He says, quirking a brow. “N-no, I don’t!” “Yes you do.” He says, plunging 2 fingers into your core, making you double over in pain and pleasure.

He starts to thrust that roughly. His fingers dig into your insides, making you whimper. You grip onto his arm, sobbing softly. He smirks and pulls his fingers out, reaching up and wiping them in your face.

He pulls you off the counter, spinning you around and bending you over it. He yanks his sweatpants down. He pumps his cock a few times. He taps it on your clit and you sniffle. He grunts as he slides into you, your pussy squeezing him so tight. You yelp and he slaps your ass. “Shut up, slut. You want this.” He growls.

You start to think about your boyfriend. What would he do if he saw you like this, bent over a counter while getting railed by this purple haired fuck. Thanos wasn’t even moving, but your legs were shaking from how deep he was. You grunt softly as you feel him tearing your pussy up.

He thrusts in and out roughly and you whimper. He grabs your hair and slams your face down into the counter. Your tears fall onto the marble counter, sobs falling past your lips. He grunts, throwing his head back. “You sound so pretty when you’re crying.” He growls, getting off on your sadness.

He grips your hips, pulling you back onto him in time with his thrusts, completely using you for his pleasure. You squirt on his cock and he snorts from how quick you came, but he doesn’t stop thrusting. “For someone who has a boyfriend, you sure love this.” He says.

You shake your head, unable to get words out. He pushes a hand down on your back, forcing you to arch it more. He slaps your ass, leaving a red handprint. “Fuck, this view..”

You leans down, chest pressing against your back. He pulls your hair, giving himself access to your neck. He bites down on it, making you yelp. He pulls back and lick a tear that was falling down your cheek. He leans back, pulling your hands behind you back and thrusting into you harder.

“Gonna ruin you for your boyfriend..” he grunts out, thrusting deeper and faster, stretching you to the limits. “Shit, shit, shit!” He murmers, cumming deep into your pussy. He keeps thrusting, fuckign his cum deeper into you.

He pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants. He pulls your panties and shorts back up. “Let that drip out and I’m gonna fuck your ass until you can’t walk.” He says, walking out of the kitchen.

[ikkyfics]

Paint Me Yours

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: You would be the death of Dave, and honestly, he’d die happy. It was a little embarrassing how often he caught himself thinking about you—the way you smiled, brighter than the fucking Sun itself, or how you always smelled like a field of flowers. He knew he was doomed the moment he laid eyes on you.

Warnings: fluffy, language, veteran!reader/freshman!Dave(two years difference), suggestive, college au, first kiss, no use of y/n

A/N: I know that each uni has its own hazing, but here is what happened at mine - a paint bath to celebrate approval

My dear love @gingerteafairy, thank you very much for giving me this idea, I hope you like it <333

Masterlist

You would be the death of Dave, and honestly, he’d die happy. It was a little embarrassing how often he caught himself thinking about you—the way you smiled, brighter than the fucking Sun itself, or how you always smelled like a field of flowers. He knew he was doomed the moment he laid eyes on you.

It was the first day of university, and he was a little lost—okay, very lost, actually. The campus was huge, and there were so many people that the place looked like an anthill. That’s when you appeared, dazzling, and asked if he was one of the freshmen. Dave needed a second or two before he stammered out a yes, watching your smile widen before you started guiding him.

During the welcome party organized by the upperclassmen, Dave could barely take his eyes off you—off your pretty mouth. The way you smiled while answering other freshmen’s questions. At some point, your gaze landed on him—maybe you’d felt his eyes boring into you—and your lips curved into a smile. Dave looked around, unsure if that smile was actually meant for him, but then you laughed, saying goodbye to the people around you before walking toward him.

“Hi,” you greeted, that smile still wrapped around your lips. “Dave, right?”

He nodded, feeling his heart stumble, not trusting his own voice to respond. He barely noticed he’d been holding his breath when you bit your lip, and God, what wouldn’t he give to be the one to do that? They looked so soft and plump—he suspected they were sweet, too.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

Dave blinked, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of your words. “Uh… yeah, sure. Everything looks great.” He wanted to slap himself. Damn it, fighting criminals was fine, but talking to a pretty girl? Impossible.

You didn’t seem to mind his lack of tact, though. In fact, you looked amused. “I’m glad,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

Was it too soon to reveal that he wouldn’t shut up when it came to something he liked? Probably, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “Depends. I can be exhausting sometimes.”

A laugh bubbled from your lips, and he knew he could start rambling if it meant hearing that laugh again. “That’s a little hard to believe.”

Dave stared at you, lips parted in surprise. No, that definitely wasn’t flirting. Absolutely not. Or was it?

Before he could respond, you quickly changed the subject. “You should grab one of the donuts before they’re gone, you know? You’ve barely moved from that corner since you got here.”

“You, uh… noticed me?”

You paused for a moment, as if only now realizing what you’d said. But the surprise on your face was quickly replaced with a relaxed expression.

“I kind of have to. It’s part of my job as an upperclassman, you know—guiding freshmen and all that. So, have you tried one yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we need to fix that right now. Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the table where the donuts were. You handed him one with pink frosting and colorful sprinkles, your eyes shining with anticipation. “Try it.”

He raised his hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the donut. Maybe he blushed under the intensity of your gaze—just maybe. When he took a bite, he closed his eyes, letting out a hum of approval. The dough was soft, and the frosting was perfect.

Your smile widened, if that was even possible. “So?”

Dave opened his eyes, finding you leaning closer to him. He drank in your image—the way the light illuminated your eyes, the soft curve of your mouth, how painfully beautiful you were. He wondered if you could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

“I think it’s pretty girl—” His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “Good! Pretty good. I think it’s pretty good.”

He didn’t dare look up. What the hell was wrong with him? Christ, why couldn’t he act like a normal person?

Hearing the soft sound of your laughter, he exhaled deeply, lifting his gaze hesitantly, only to find a playful smile dancing on your pretty mouth. The weight on his shoulders lifted slightly at your reaction. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t ruined everything just yet.

“Dave,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you tried to stifle your laughter, “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Almost reflexively, a sheepish smile curved his lips. “Sometimes.”

From that first encounter, Dave Lizewski knew he was screwed.

The weeks that followed were a blur. He kept himself busy trying to adapt to his new reality, but every time he crossed paths with you on campus, it was like being struck by lightning.

You always smiled at him, asking one question or another, which Dave took forever to answer because he was too distracted admiring you. He became especially distracted when you wore those spaghetti-strap tops that highlighted your bust. Marty once jokingly told him to wipe the drool off his face while he watched you from across the hallway.

Today had been surprisingly light. There were still a few hours until sunset, and classes had ended a few minutes ago. Dave was walking among the other students in his class, heading out of the building, when he noticed the murmurs around him. He pulled out one of his earbuds, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tried to catch snippets of the conversation.

"Did you hear? There's a stash of paint in the lockers," someone said, and it didn’t take long for the other person to reply with a smirk, “I think today’s the day. I mean, it’s been almost a month since classes started.”

But it wasn’t until Dave reached the entrance of the building that he realized what was about to happen. The upperclassmen were gathered, and there was a dizzying amount of tempera paint in sight.

However, that wasn’t what caught his attention. You were there, radiant as always, but today you looked like you were ready to give him a heart attack. The only things covering your body were shorts and a thin top. He swallowed hard as his eyes lingered on your legs, on how soft they looked. It wasn’t hard to imagine how it would feel to settle between them. The image popped into his mind as clear as the waters of a pristine lake. You riding him, your face clouded with pleasure, the sounds you would make. The intensity of the thought made him blush, and he quickly buried his indecent ideas before they caused trouble in his pants.

You, oblivious to his thoughts, continued organizing some of the paint. The memory of your own hazing was still fresh in your mind. It had been epic—there was no other word for it. You didn’t have to think twice before agreeing to do the same for the freshmen.

Hearing the commotion, your eyes lifted just in time to catch sight of Dave. A small smile curved your lips without your permission. That was the effect he had on you, one you were definitely fighting against. He was a freshman, probably two years younger than you, and you had never been with a younger guy before.

The very thought brought a feeling of unease.

But it would be a lie to say he hadn’t been occupying your thoughts more frequently. It was hard—impossible—not to be drawn to those eyes, as bright as sapphires, and those dark curls that constantly fell over his forehead. They were adorable. How many times had your fingers itched with the urge to push them back from his handsome face?

And it wasn’t as though you didn’t know you had some effect on him. It wasn’t arrogance—Dave just wasn’t very discreet. He always blushed and seemed to struggle to find the right words. It was genuinely cute.

Without thinking, you headed toward him.

Dave didn’t notice you approaching right away. He was too busy trying to act casual, which only made him look even more awkward, staring at the ground, his earbuds now hanging around his neck. But when he finally sensed your presence, his whole body tensed, as if the air around him had turned into static electricity.

“Hi, Dave.” Your voice was soft but carried something he couldn’t quite place—a warmth that made his stomach flip with nerves—and something else he didn’t want to name.

He looked up, and seeing you so close rendered him momentarily speechless. The late afternoon sun lit up your face, highlighting every detail—the curve of your lashes, the soft shape of your lips, the delicate line of your jaw. It was impossible not to be captivated.

“Hi,” he finally managed to mumble, his voice rougher than he would’ve liked.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes locked on his with a playful glint. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He tried to smile but ended up with something awkward instead. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I mean, you just showed up out of nowhere.”

“Did I?” You laughed, and the sound seemed to echo inside him. “Or maybe you were just distracted.” Your voice lowered slightly on the last word, almost as if you were teasing him. And it worked. Dave felt his face heat up instantly.

Without hurry, you took a step closer, invading his personal space. “Are you staying for the hazing?”

He blinked, surprised, his eyebrows rising. “Hazing? Uh… I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smile turning into something that looked like a challenge. “Oh, come on, are you really going to tell me you’re not joining? It’s nothing scary, I promise.” Your voice was persuasive, carrying something that made him want to say “yes” to anything you asked.

He hesitated for a moment, but something in the way you looked at him—like you were challenging him, but with a sweetness that made him want to impress you—made him nod. “Alright. What do I have to do?”

“First,” you started, pointing to the small group of freshmen gathered a little ahead, “leave your backpack over there with the others. You won’t need it right now.”

Dave followed your gaze and saw the other freshmen dropping their bags near a makeshift bench, some already with their arms and faces painted in bright colors. They were laughing, exchanging jokes, their energy light and full of the excitement of new beginnings. Dave sighed, adjusting the strap on his shoulder before finally moving to do the same. He placed his backpack down carefully, as if the act itself carried more significance than it seemed—a small gesture of belonging.

When he came back to you, he seemed more relaxed, but you couldn’t ignore his posture. It was hard not to notice—the way his shoulders stayed square, his arms defined even without him trying to show them off. He was fit, very fit, and you found the words a little harder to get out as you tried not to make it too obvious. Still, the idea of touching him, even under the innocent pretense of the prank, made your heart beat a little faster.

“You’re going to need to take off your jacket,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady even as your heart pounded in your chest.

Dave hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, unzipping it slowly, the sound of the metal seeming louder than necessary in the silence between you. He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders with a natural ease that felt almost rehearsed, folding it carefully before setting it on a nearby bench. The white shirt underneath seemed simple at first glance, but now, with him more exposed, you noticed how perfectly it fit him—highlighting his chest and arms in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“Do I need to roll up the sleeves too?” he asked, already pulling one sleeve up to his elbow before you could respond.

You only managed to nod, pretending to be deeply focused on grabbing the paint. But it was impossible not to notice his movements—the firm way his fingers gripped the fabric, the casual way he folded each side, leaving his forearms exposed. And oh, those forearms. The muscles flexed slightly with each fold. Heat rose to your face, and you quickly lowered your eyes, forcing yourself to focus, clearing your throat.

“Green,” you blurted out suddenly, as if the words slipped out without thinking. He stopped, looking at you with a curious expression.

“What?”

“Green suits you,” you explained, gesturing toward the row of paints. Your voice came out firmer than you expected, but the truth was that having him so close was starting to mess with your ability to form complete sentences.

Dave raised an eyebrow, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “Does it? Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to sound casual. “It just does. I’d guess you belong in Slytherin.”

He frowned, feigning indignation. “Slytherin? Are you serious?”

You laughed, enjoying the playful tone in his voice. “Yes.”

“I’m definitely a Gryffindor, for your information,” he replied, crossing his arms, though the amused curve of his lips remained. “Lions are better than snakes.”

“Oh, I see.” You laughed again, grabbing the pot of green paint and carefully opening it. “But today, you’re going to be a Slytherin, sweetheart.”

He smiled, but you could see the faint flush creeping up his ears, something that made him look even more endearing. Would he mind if his cheeks were bitten? You blinked, forcing that thought away.

“Now stay still,” you said, dipping your fingers into the cool paint. “I’ll start with your arms.”

Dave obeyed, keeping still, but you could feel his full attention on you. Your fingers touched his skin, sliding carefully as you began drawing soft lines and delicate strokes along his forearm. The warm texture of his skin contrasted with the fresh paint, and you lost yourself for a moment in the simple act of tracing each curve.

He was quiet, but you could feel his breathing change—slightly heavier, as if he was aware of every touch. When you glanced up to check if he was okay, you realized he was looking too. Not at his arm, but at you.

His gaze was intense, his blue eyes fixed on your face for a few seconds before dropping, almost accidentally, to the neckline of your shirt. The movement was so quick that he blinked, shifting his focus back to his arm, but the blush rising to his cheeks was impossible to miss.

“I... uh, you’re pretty detail-oriented, huh?” he tried, his voice slightly lower than before.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your face too. “I like to do things properly. Now your forehead.”

He blinked, surprised. “My forehead?”

“It’s a prank, Dave,” you replied, laughing. “The arms are just the beginning. Come here.”

He tilted his head hesitantly, letting you get closer. Your fingers were covered in paint, and as you began to glide the tip along the contours of his forehead, you realized just how close you were—so close you could catch the subtle scent of his cologne, something warm and woodsy.

The silence between you grew heavy, charged with something that felt electric. Each breath seemed synchronized, every move you made met with his gaze. When you finished the drawing, your fingers lingered, still lightly brushing against his skin. It was Dave who broke the silence, laughing softly.

“Now that you're officially painted, I think you're ready to be a proper freshman,” you joked, trying to ease the tension hanging between you.

You stepped back, tilting your head to evaluate your work. He already had some green marks scattered across his arms and forehead, but somehow, he still looked surprisingly... neat. That wouldn’t last long, of course.

“Time for a picture,” you said, raising your phone. “We need to capture this ‘tidy’ phase,” you explained, stifling a laugh. “Because soon, my friend, you’ll be unrecognizable.”

He chuckled, a bit shyly, and nodded. “Alright.”

You winked, adjusting the angle of your phone. He stood there with a small, reserved smile, proudly displaying the name of his course and the university's initials, but with an ease so natural that you didn’t need to ask for anything else. “Look here,” you directed, snapping the photo. “This one’s good. Now, give me a serious face or something.”

He attempted a more serious pose, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow, but the effect was ruined when he started laughing—soft and full of life.

“You’re terrible at this, you know that?” you teased, laughing along. “Alright, last one. Just smile this time.”

He complied, and this time his smile was brighter, more carefree—something so genuine you already knew it would be your favorite. “Done. Immortalized.”

“Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” he said, still smiling.

Before you could respond, one of the upperclassmen clapped loudly to grab everyone’s attention. “Alright, freshmen! Everyone, listen up!”

Dave turned toward the voice, and you used the moment to pocket your phone, staying close as the upperclassman explained what would happen next.

“Now that you’ve all been properly christened, it’s time for the fun part of initiation. Everyone is going to form a line, holding hands, and we’re going to walk from here to the main engineering building over there,” he pointed to a building about a 15-minute walk away, “leaving a trail of paint behind us. Along the way, we’re going to throw paint at you. A lot of paint. And just so you know: if any of you freshmen try to fight back, you’ll get an extra soaking. Got it?”

The freshmen murmured their agreement, some chuckling nervously. Beside you, Dave seemed amused, his easy smile firmly in place. That was when you realized your role was about to begin: as an upperclassman, your job wasn’t just to watch—it was to dive into the colorful chaos and make sure no one got out unscathed.

You turned to him, a playful glint in your eye. “You know, Dave, I think you should take your glasses off.”

He blinked, surprised. “Take my glasses off? Why?”

“Trust me,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “The paint will get everywhere, and you don’t want to ruin the lenses.”

He hesitated, clearly unconvinced. Then, with a sigh, he slowly removed his glasses and handed them to you. “Fine. But if I trip over someone, it’s your fault.”

You laughed, holding the glasses carefully. “I’ll guide you, don’t worry. Can you still see anything?” Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost with genuine concern.

Dave tilted his head, that small smile appearing again. “I think I can... enough to know you’re still there.”

Your laugh was a bit nervous, but you covered it by glancing away. “Well, that’s enough.”

He laughed too, that light sound contagious. And before you could respond, the upperclassmen started moving, organizing the freshmen into a line. “Take good care of those,” he said, pointing to his glasses. “I’m trusting you.”

“You can trust me,” you replied, waving the glasses before stepping away.

Dave joined the line of freshmen, falling into place among them. You watched as he took the hands of two other students, looking both relaxed and a little eager. The upperclassmen began circling the group, armed with bottles and squirt guns filled with colorful paint.

“Alright, everyone!” one of the upperclassmen yelled, a mischievous grin on his face. “No mercy!”

You grabbed your improvised weapon—a bottle filled with vibrant blue paint—and walked alongside the freshmen, your eyes inevitably searching for him in the crowd. It wasn’t hard to find him; it was as if your eyes were drawn to him naturally. His smile was still there, as if he was genuinely enjoying the impending chaos.

Music started playing—something upbeat and lively from a portable speaker someone had brought. It was the perfect soundtrack for the moment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the energetic rhythm set the tone.

As the group began to move, the upperclassmen launched their attack. Paint flew in every direction, splattering onto laughing freshmen who tried—and failed—to dodge the colorful assault. You aimed for Dave, squeezing your bottle and hitting him square on the shoulder. He stopped, pretending to look offended as he laughed.

“You did that on purpose!” he accused, pointing at you, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Of course I did!” you shot back, unable to stop laughing. “What, you thought I’d spare you?”

He shook his head, still grinning, and kept walking. But you weren’t done yet. At every opportunity, you squirted more paint at him, streaking blue and green across his arms and back. Other upperclassmen joined in, but you got the sense that he was far more aware of your attacks than anyone else’s.

The soundtrack kept playing as the group moved forward slowly, everyone fully immersed in the fun. Dave, now almost unrecognizable with the amount of paint covering his hair and clothes, still seemed to be having more fun than anyone else. But amidst the chaos of colors and laughter, something glimmered in his eyes—a kind of challenge. Before you could prepare yourself, he took two quick steps toward you, his paint-covered hand reaching straight for your arm.

"Dave!" you exclaimed, trying to step back, but it was already too late.

His fingers left a streak of green paint across the light fabric of your shirt, staining it mercilessly. You froze, staring at the mark with a skeptical expression, then at him, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide his mischievous grin.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you said, disbelief dripping from your voice. "I loved this shirt."

"Oops," he replied, with the most insincere tone of regret you’d ever heard, raising his hands in a gesture that didn’t convince anyone. "But hey, I think green suits you, too."

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms as you glared at him. "Are you serious, Dave?"

Before he could answer, a nearby upperclassman noticed what had happened and raised their voice, laughing. "Hey, everyone! Looks like we’ve got a bold one here!"

That was enough to grab the attention of all the other upperclassmen around. In seconds, it seemed like everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at Dave, who now seemed a little less confident—but surprisingly, no less amused.

"Retaliation, huh?" someone shouted, already starting to fill a bucket with a deadly mix of paints. "This won’t go unpunished!"

You took a step back, watching the scene unfold. Dave opened his mouth to protest but didn’t have time. The first splash of paint came from the left, hitting him square on the shoulder. Then, it was as if the heavens had opened, but instead of rain, there were buckets, bottles, and tubes of paint being thrown at him from every direction. Red, blue, yellow, pink, green, purple—a whirlwind of colors determined to turn him into a walking masterpiece.

You stood there with your arms crossed, watching as the upperclassmen laughed and shouted, the background music amplifying the chaos. Dave, however, seemed… completely unfazed. He raised his hands in surrender, but the grin was still there—a wide, bright smile as if he was having way too much fun.

When an entire bucket of blue paint was dumped straight over his head, he shook his hair, sending splatters everywhere—including onto you. "Seriously, Dave?!" you complained, but the laughter in your voice betrayed the fact that you weren’t really upset.

He wiped the excess paint dripping down his forehead and looked at you through the chaos. His smile was different now, a little softer but just as captivating as before. "Worth it," he said simply, as if the storm of paint had been a small price to pay.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that slipped through. "You’re impossible."

He shrugged, finally extending his hands to the sides, as if accepting defeat with dignity. "Maybe. But at least I’m not the only one covered in paint now."

The group, a walking rainbow, finally reached the other building, still laughing and making comments about their utterly destroyed—but hilarious—appearances. Clothes that had once been normal were now completely unrecognizable, and many people’s hair dripped paint like oversized brushes. You couldn’t help but laugh as you noticed how Dave seemed to lead the pack of the most wrecked ones, completely covered from head to toe.

"I look like an exploded paint can," someone commented, eliciting even more laughter from the group.

The upperclassmen began organizing everyone for a group photo. "Come on, everyone! I want to see everyone squeezed in here!" one of them shouted, waving a red paint tube like a microphone.

Dave laughed beside you, leaning in to whisper, "I think there’s still time to escape."

"You’re the last person who can say that," you shot back, glancing sideways at him. He was drenched in paint, but his eyes sparkled brighter than ever, and something about the way he smiled made your stomach flip in that uncomfortable—but addicting—way.

The freshmen started lining up, bumping into each other and trying to find space in the tight group. You ended up being pushed to the front, practically pressed against Dave as he positioned himself behind you. "Looks like this is going to be pretty snug," he remarked.

"That’s the spirit of teamwork," you replied, trying to maintain your composure, though you were very aware of how close he was.

"Teamwork, huh?" he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice without even looking.

Just as the photographer positioned themselves, you felt movement right behind you, and before you could process it, Dave’s arm slid around your waist. It was a gentle touch, almost casual, but the way he did it—firm yet hesitant, as if waiting for your reaction—made your heart race.

You looked at him, surprised. “Dave…” you began, but your voice got lost amidst the chaos around you. He looked back at you, the smile still on his face, but now there was something different—an intensity in his eyes, a glimmer that seemed to say more than any words could.

“Just to make room for everyone,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. You weren’t sure if it was because of the noise or the way he seemed to look directly at you, ignoring the rest of the world entirely.

You tried to think of anything relevant to say, but your mind was a complete blur, the words tangling together as he stayed so close. The touch of his arm around your waist was a constant reminder, a warm pressure that sent shivers through your skin, even under the layer of paint covering you both.

Someone shouted, “Smile!” and you forced a grin for the camera, even though your thoughts were far from where they should be. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dave lean slightly forward, and his closeness was overwhelming. He smelled faintly of paint mixed with something uniquely him, and it was ridiculous that you were noticing that at such a moment.

When the photo was finally taken, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Dave, still with his arm around your waist, looked at you with a satisfied smile. “I think this will be a photo to remember,” he said, his voice low, and the way he looked at you almost made your knees buckle.

“I hope you’re right,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the weakness in your voice gave everything away.

As the photo group began to break apart, the laughter faded. A few freshmen tried unsuccessfully to scrub the paint out of their hair and clothes, while others seemed resigned to heading home in their messy state. You watched the scene unfold, the sound of footsteps and chatter echoing through the space. The energetic buzz of the event still lingered, but exhaustion was beginning to creep in.

Dave stood near you, a mix of tiredness and contentment on his face. He ran a hand through his hair, now stiff from the paint, and let out a soft laugh. “I think it’s going to take me two weeks in the shower to get all of this off.”

You laughed, reaching for your bag and unzipping it. “I think you’ll need more than that. But luckily, I came prepared.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, as you pulled out a small packet of wet wipes. “It’s not going to fix this entire disaster,” you said, holding it up for him, “but it’ll help with the basics. Here.”

He looked at you, his smile widening. “Are you always this prepared, or is this just for me?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re full of jokes today, huh?”

He chuckled but didn’t take the wipes from your hand. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if challenging you. “So, are you going to help me, or are you just going to stand there holding that?”

You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at the way he was looking at you—direct, playful, but with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Fine, but stay still and cooperate.”

He took a small step closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. Dave lowered his head slightly, making it easier for you to reach his face. Your hands were steady as you pulled out a wipe, but the same couldn’t be said for your heartbeat, which pounded wildly as you leaned in.

The first touch was light, almost hesitant, but soon you were carefully wiping away the streaks of paint from his forehead. His skin was warm under the wipe, and you could feel every tiny movement as he stayed still, his eyes fixed on you.

“Does this hurt?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“No,” he replied, his tone rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “If anything, it’s the opposite.”

You tried to ignore the weight of his words, but it was impossible. Each second seemed to stretch the space between you. Your fingers, holding the wipe, brushed lightly against the side of his face, and he took a deep breath, as if steadying himself.

His eyes never left yours, and there was something about the vibrant blue that made you feel lost, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. “You’re all cleaned up now,” you murmured, but you didn’t step away.

“Am I?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips, as if he knew more than he was letting on. “Because I think there’s a spot here…” He pointed to his cheek, though it felt more like an excuse to keep you close.

You laughed softly but obliged, wiping the spot he indicated. “There. Happy?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and when you finally found the courage to look at him again, the smile had disappeared, replaced by something deeper. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was filled with everything that wasn’t being said.

His hand rose for a moment, almost as if it were going to touch yours, but then stopped halfway, falling back to his side. “I am. Quite a bit.”

You felt the weight of his words, the raw honesty hanging in the air like a thick, tangible cloud. That I am seemed to hold more than he was willing to say out loud. His breath was heavy, not from the physical effort of the day, but from the tension that seemed to pulse between you like a rope about to snap.

Without thinking much, as if your fingers had a life of their own, you brought a hand to his face again. His hair was messy and still wet with paint, some strands stuck to his forehead, others falling to the side, blocking your view of his eyes. “Stay still,” you murmured, almost apologetically, as you brushed the wet strands back carefully.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the simple touch of your fingers was enough to disarm him. When he opened his eyes again, there was something different in them, something more intense, more vulnerable.

You took a deep breath, and before you could hesitate, you began to clean the paint still staining his jawline, your fingers gliding along the strong line of his jaw. The texture of his skin under the wet wipe, warm and slightly rough, made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t control.

“Do you have any idea how much you got dirty today?” you tried to say, but your voice came out weaker than you intended.

“Maybe,” he replied, and the hoarseness in his voice made you feel the impact in your chest, like a muffled thunder. “But you seemed to be having fun.”

You chuckled softly, trying to relieve the growing tension, but it was a useless effort. Your fingers slid from his jaw to near his lips, and you hesitated for a fraction of a second before gently passing the wipe over the corner of his lips.

His eyes followed every movement of yours, and when you looked back, his gaze seemed to beg for something he didn’t have the courage to ask for. His mouth was slightly open, and his breath brushed against your fingers so tangibly that you almost felt the heat on your own skin.

“All done,” you said, but your voice sounded different now, as if it carried everything you didn’t want to admit.

“You’re not done yet,” he murmured, and the smile that played on his lips was as soft as it was dangerous.

“I am,” you replied, but your hand didn’t move. It was still there, dangerously close to his mouth, as if it were impossible to pull away.

“Are you sure?” he teased, his tone barely audible, and you knew he wasn’t talking about the paint anymore.

The silence that followed was deafening. The proximity between you was almost painful now, each inch filled with electricity that had your whole body on high alert. His eyes dropped for a moment to your mouth, and when they returned to yours, there was something there that made your heart beat so fast you thought he could hear it.

Your hand, still near his mouth, wavered for a second, and it was all he needed to take a step forward, closing the distance between you even more. His breath mixed with yours, and you knew, you knew you were on the edge of completely losing yourselves.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice a little firmer now, but still low enough for only you to hear. “And I’m tired of pretending I can.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with raw honesty that seemed to steal all the air around you. Your throat went dry, and you could feel the conflict building inside you, fighting against what already seemed inevitable.

He was younger. A freshman. And you knew you should have some sense here, some logic screaming for you to pull back, to remember the differences, the line that separated you two. But your hands were still on him, your fingers still brushing the paint-stained skin of his warm face, and you just couldn’t let go.

“Dave…” Your voice came out in a trembling whisper, carrying all that you were trying to hold back — the hesitation, the disbelief, and above all, the desire you had been trying to bury since the moment he looked at you that way, completely enchanted, for the first time.

He leaned in imperceptibly closer, his eyebrows furrowed, the intensity in his blue gaze fixed on you. “Tell me what’s holding you back,” he asked, almost pleading, but his tone was still soft, patient, as if he was trying to find his way to you.

You opened your mouth, but the words seemed to dissolve before you could even form a sentence. He waited, his proximity a temptation, and you felt as if you were being pulled toward him, against all the logic you thought you had.

“You’re…” you started, but hesitated, then took a deep breath. “You’re younger. A freshman. That…”

He laughed, low and hoarse, and shook his head slightly. "You think that matters to me?" He tilted his head, his eyes darkening with the intensity of his gaze. "I don’t care if you're older. Do you think when I look at you, that’s what I see? Because I don’t. I only see you. You, with that habit of looking at me like you’re trying to push me away, but you can’t."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He looked so vulnerable and so certain at the same time, and that made something inside you tremble.

"I don’t know if I can do this..." you murmured, the hesitation weighing heavily in each word.

"I know you can," he shot back, his voice firmer now, but still low, almost reverent. "Because if you didn’t want to, you would have already walked away. And you’re still here."

His words hit you like a punch, because he was right. You were still here. Your hands were still on him, and the closeness between you was so small that any movement could close it.

His fingers slowly moved until they lightly brushed your wrist. It was such a subtle touch, but it electrified everything around you, as if the world had stopped to observe that moment.

"Tell me you don’t want this," he said, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking any louder would be dangerous. "Tell me you don’t feel this too, and I’ll stop now."

But you couldn’t say it. You couldn’t pull your hands away, couldn’t ignore the way he looked at you, as if you were something he didn’t know he needed until the moment he saw you.

"You don’t know what you’re asking, Dave," you murmured, but your voice came out weak, with no conviction.

"I know exactly what I’m asking," he retorted, his eyes fixed on yours, as if each word was a promise. "I’m asking for you. And I know you’re trying to find a reason for this not to happen, but there isn’t one."

And in that moment, you knew he was right. That it didn’t matter the logic, or the differences, or the doubts you were trying to hold on to. He was here, and you wanted him. God, how you wanted him.

Your gaze fell to his lips, then rose back to his eyes. He was so close that you could feel his breath, and there was something so vulnerable in his expression, so open, so surrendered, that you simply couldn’t hold back.

Without thinking any further, you closed the distance between you, your hands moving to his face as your lips met his. He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you as if he’d been waiting for this since the moment he saw you. And maybe he had. Maybe you had too.

His lips were warm against yours, firm yet hesitant, as if he feared that it could all disappear in the blink of an eye. You felt his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressed to yours in a way that made the whole world disappear.

His touch was both reverent and desperate, as if he didn’t know if it was real, but was determined to imprint every detail in his memory. His hands slid over the curve of your back, stopping at the base of your waist, before moving up again, his fingers brushing the exposed skin that the light fabric of your blouse didn’t protect. It was electrifying, each touch, each movement, and you felt your heart beating so hard it seemed to echo in every cell of your body.

He pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his eyes meeting yours as if searching for some kind of certainty. "Is this... real?" he murmured, his voice hoarse, cut off. He seemed lost, his blue eyes shining amidst the remnants of lilac and green paint on his face, as if you were the only thing he could see.

You laughed softly, breathless, but didn’t pull away an inch. "Yes," you answered, your voice soft but full of something you couldn’t hide anymore. "It’s real, Dave."

He let out a shaky laugh, a mixture of relief and disbelief, and then his lips were on yours again, this time more certain, hungrier. His hands moved up to your shoulders, then slowly slid down your arms, his fingers tracing the path as if he wanted to memorize every detail, every curve, every inch of skin.

"You have no idea..." he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your face. He stopped, just enough to find your eyes again. "How much I’ve dreamed of this. Of you."

You felt the weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze, and something inside you broke and rebuilt itself all at once. "Dave..." you started, but he shook his head, interrupting.

“No,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I need you to know. From the first day. From the moment you spoke to me, from the moment you smiled at me… I knew. I knew it was you.”

Your breath faltered, and you felt his hands rise again, this time stopping at the sides of your face, his thumbs tracing the line of your jaw until they brushed the corner of your lips. He seemed so sure, so lost in you, and at the same time so fragile, as if this moment could be taken from him at any second.

“Dave…” you repeated, his name coming out as a whisper, almost a secret. You held his wrists, your fingers gently tightening against his skin. “You have no idea…”

“Tell me,” he insisted, his voice still hoarse, but laden with something so raw, so real, that it made the air around you feel heavier.

You swallowed hard but didn’t look away. “That I thought about it too. That I wanted this too. You. From the beginning.”

The words hit him like a blow, and he let out a short laugh, almost disbelieving, as he pressed his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he needed that instant to collect himself, then whispered, “You’re messing with me, right?”

“You think I’d do that now?” you replied, the teasing in your voice mixed with the weight of the truth.

He opened his eyes, and there was something almost glowing in them, something that made you lose yourself completely. “God, you’re gonna kill me,” he murmured before pulling you in again, the kiss more intense, more urgent this time.

His hands slid down your back, tracing the curve of your hips before stopping at their base, as if he needed to hold you there, as if he feared you might slip away. You pressed even closer to him, feeling his heat, the smell of paint mixed with his scent, and nothing had ever felt so right.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he gave a small smile, his lips still red from the kiss. “So… is this it?” he asked, his voice soft but playful. “Can I stop torturing myself now?”

You laughed, your fingers still tangled in his shirt, and shook your head. “I don’t know. Maybe I like seeing you like this,” you replied, the teasing clear, but your eyes still filled with everything you were feeling.

He tilted his head to the side, a crooked, utterly charming smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. “If that means I can kiss you again, then torture me as much as you want.”

You laughed, short, still breathless, and pushed lightly against his chest, but not enough to create any real distance. His hands stayed firmly on your waist, and it was impossible to ignore the streaks of paint he’d left there—a deep blue staining the pale pink of your blouse. His fingers had drawn an impromptu map on your skin and the fabric, and you knew that, even without a mirror, it was visible.

“Look at what you’ve done,” you commented, trying to sound indignant as you looked down at your blouse, but it was impossible not to smile. “My blouse is ruined.”

Dave laughed softly, his thumbs sliding along the curve of your waist before tracing their way back, as if he wanted to emphasize the mess. “You should’ve walked away while you could.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, sure, because you would’ve let me go, right?”

He smiled wider now, his face still covered in paint, but somehow it only made him more irresistible. “Not for a second,” he confessed, with a tone that was both light and serious, like everything he did.

You shook your head, but couldn’t help the laugh, even as you tugged at the fabric of your blouse to examine the stains more closely. “And what do I do with this now? This is beyond saving, you know?”

Dave let out a dramatic sigh, pulling away just enough to look at you properly, but his hands remained firmly on your waist, as if he couldn’t help it. “Okay, I’ll admit it was a fashion crime,” he began, his eyes dropping to the stained fabric before rising back to your face. He looked so carefree and yet so intensely focused on you at the same time, it was almost unsettling. “But, look, you could… I don’t know, keep it as a keepsake.”

You raised an eyebrow again, his mischievous look signaling he had more to say. “A keepsake?”

“Yeah,” he continued, his smile growing. He raised one of his hands, covered in paint, and his thumb lightly brushed against the strap of your blouse, where a small paint stain was already printed. The touch was casual, but you felt a shiver run through you as if he had done it on purpose. “Every time you look at it, you’ll remember today. Me.”

You tried to roll your eyes, but it was impossible to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. “Oh, sure, because I’d want a ruined blouse to remember you by,” you teased, but your voice came out quieter than expected.

He tilted his face a little closer, his fingers still idly playing with the strap of your blouse, as if he were testing his own limits. “You will,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but with that sweet tone that made your heart race. “Because I know you won’t forget me, with or without the blouse.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to hide the effect his words had on you, but it was useless. “You’re really confident for a guy who’s covered in paint,” you commented, pointing to his face.

Dave laughed again, tilting his head to the side as he ran one hand across his own face, spreading even more paint without realizing. “Oh, seriously?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “And who was it that left me like this, huh?”

“You weren’t exactly trying to avoid it,” you replied, crossing your arms, but it was impossible to keep up the defensive posture with him so close, so absurdly adorable.

He took a step back, pretending to examine himself, before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, it’s pretty bad,” he admitted, pointing to the stains on his face, neck, and arms. But then he looked at you, a mischievous smile returning to his lips. “But, you know what? Totally worth it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile on your face betrayed any attempt to seem serious. “Really worth it?”

“Totally,” he said, giving that half-smile that seemed dangerous and irresistible at the same time. He took a step forward again, closing the distance, tilting his face until it was only inches from yours. “Wanna know why?”

You barely had time to respond before he continued, his voice low and heavy with something that made your breath falter. “Because now, I know what it’s like to kiss you.”

And with that, he smiled, so completely satisfied, so completely in love, that it was impossible to say anything. And you knew he was right: you’d never forget this. Or him.

[summertimesadnessirl]

The "trans shit" where he's declaring there are only two genders is part of the horrific shit he wants to do.

He's starting to do it.

The declaration is really vague and that's part of why it should scare you.

I mean, not to get all

First they came for the trans people and I wasn't trans so I was like

I don't care what about my birth control!

But if you genuinely don't care if they force trans people into poverty because they just made it legal to discriminate against people for employment for any reason and declared that they are going to go after trans people and their Healthcare over the next few years because you have no empathy, you should care because anti trans laws apply to you if the government decides that they do, even if you are cis.

That's what all that "tranvestigation" shit is about.

They're laying the groundwork for it now.

If you're a cis woman and you don't shave, you fuck women, you lift weights, you have pcos related body hair or genetic thick eyebrows, you have small breasts or a strong jaw, you take estrogen to help with menopause...

Do you want to have to "prove" that you are cis when you go to the doctor, the pharmacy, TSA, to use the bathroom at a fucking Barnes and Noble?

If you are a cis man and you like to wear bright colors or dye your hair or you have a smaller build or you're short or you take testosterone to help with low energy or depression or issues with pain when you are aging or you are a survivor of cancer, do you want men to be able to demand that you "prove" that you're cis to them?

If you aren't fucking capable of empathy, at least be capable of thought.

They will be using these laws to strip, pat down, examine, humiliate, and harass gender non conforming cis people.

Grow the fuck up.

High control groups don't see a difference between groups of people who they see as "disobedient," they just want to crush any form of it.

You, radical feminist, lesbian, cis gay man, whatever, are the same to them as any trans or nb person.

You're not fulfilling your role, which was ordained by god.

So even if you for some reason can't see trans people as human and think "wow, what if someone tried to force me to do something that made me feel miserable or force me to never do something that made me really happy my whole life, that would suck!" You should at least remember that.

i really really really don't care about trans shit anymore. like it's just not a thought in my mind. I'm terrified. i went on instagram and the first post i saw was "trump said there are only two genders! that's awful" I DONT GIVE A SINGULAR FUCK? I'm terrified. I'm terrified for the earth, there's a nazi in the white house that gets control of a whole department, 4 hours into his presidency there was a sieg heil by musk, he will leave everything to states and i will have no protections. I'm scared that my birth control will be taken and i eventually die alone and bloody from pregnancy complications. im scared for how bold nazis and racists and misogynists are going to be. i don't want more drilling.

i don't give a fuck if he said there's only male and female. he's trying to distract you from all the horrific shit he wants to do

[all444glo]

ˏˋ⋆ 𝑴★𝒈𝒊𝒄 ⋆ˊˎ-

warnings: this is my first fic, heavily mature!, mentions of stripping, drug use, alcohol use yadda yadda yadda.

summary: It’s Jude’s 21st birthday and he couldn’t be any more happier, he’s on vacation in the black city of sin. His american friends wanted him to get a taste of what atlanta girls were like. as soon he walks in he’s in euphoria.

Jude was nervous, though he tried not to show it. American club culture was a mystery to him, and Atlanta’s scene? Completely uncharted territory. It wasn’t his usual crowd, no where near it, but it was his twenty-first birthday, and he felt like he owed himself a change of pace. The UK clubs he knew had grown stale, he needed something new. he figured why not disappear into a space where no one would notice him.

“Gang, I’m telling you, this is gonna blow your mind,” his friend said, grinning as they headed to his favorite spot. Jude laughed quietly, turning the name over in his head: ‘Magic City’ The words conjured an image of some surreal palace, complete with wizard-themed strippers and glowing wands.

But as the car turned onto the street and the neon lights spilled across his face, he realized he’d imagined entirely wrong. Magic, indeed—but not the kind he was prepared for.

They pulled up to a small, run-down spot—a real hole in the wall. The parking lot reeked of dark liquor, weed, tobacco, and shame. This was way out of Jude’s element. He’d seen some shady pubs back home, but this? This was a whole different ball game. “What is this, man?” Jude asked, laughing nervously as his eyes darted around, head on a swivel. His friend just grinned, leaning against the car like he’d seen this a hundred times. “Nigga This? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, that’s what it is.”

Before Jude could say anything, his friend slapped a fat wad of cash in his hand—bills crumpled and messy, ranging from ones to hundreds. “Now quit tweaking’ and come on,” his friend said with a wide grin. “Enjoy your 21st, nigga!”

Jude was having the absolute time of his life, he felt completely detached from his body. He was off of several rounds of shots and numerous puffs of weed, alcohol and weed hitting much differently in the US than at home. his hand was soon grabbed by a dancer, her skin glowing in the multi colored lights. “you’re beautiful” he mumbled, his eyes red and low. his friend was heard cackling in the distance, “have fun!” he shouted waving the two off.

Jude was on cloud nine, completely lost in the moment. He felt like he wasn’t even in his own body anymore. The shots kept coming, the weed too, and it hit different here in the US—stronger, sharper, like everything was amplified. His senses were spinning, the music vibrating through his bones. Then, a dancer reached out, her skin glowing under the kaleidoscope of lights. Without thinking, he mumbled, “You’re beautiful,” his voice slurring, eyes half-lidded and heavy.

His friend’s laughter echoed from a distance, barely audible over the chaos. “Have fun!” he called out, waving them off with a wild grin. the girl was beautiful, her gold bikini reflected and highlighted her brown complexion. she was completely intoxicating to say the least, making Jude feel like he was even farther out his body. “Thank you, honey,” she said with a soft country drawl. Jude couldn’t help but smile; there was something about it that made her even more captivating.

She took his hand and led him into a room. The lights were bathed in red, and a disco ball spun above, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the walls, making everything feel surreal. Jude felt the pulse of the music deep in his chest, the atmosphere thick with heat and energy. The room seemed to spin with him, the lights blurring together as he followed her, captivated by her every move.

She moved with grace, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him, and it only made everything feel more intense. Jude could barely focus on anything else, lost in the rhythm of the moment, not sure where he ended and the dream began.

“Damn,” he mumbled, cupping her ass, his gaze fixed on her as if he was studying something he couldn’t quite believe was real. She was perfect in his eyes, and for a moment, he couldn’t believe he had her—at least for now.

Music filled the air, a steady rhythm setting the scene as she began her routine, grinding against him with a slow, teasing motion, drawing him in with every movement. Jude fought to keep his hands to himself, but couldn’t help slipping a few hundreds into the waistband of her thong, silently showing his appreciation for the moment.

“What’s your name, love?” he mumbled, trying to keep his composure, though it was harder with each passing second “Euphoria,” she whispered in his ear, her voice dripping with seduction. She traced the top of his ear with her tongue, sending a jolt of pleasure down his spine. “You like when I dance for you, baby?” she teased, settling onto his lap, her body pressing against him. Jude could barely think, his mind clouded as he nodded, his face flushed with heat. “You could be a model, fuck the strip club,” he muttered, his hands instinctively moving to her sides, groping at her waist. Her breathing slowed, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as the intensity between them grew.

“Why do you even work here?” Jude asked, his hand lightly grazing her butt as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Gotta get through school somehow,” she snickered, glancing up at him. “I know you don’t really care though.”

Jude immediately furrowed his brows, shaking his head. “Nah, that’s not me. You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met, I have to care.” Euphoria laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “Wow, you English men really are charming, huh?” It was clear that Euphoria found him attractive too, the men who typically came through were the usual Atlanta crowd. She hated her job, but if she had to do it, at least she could enjoy a bit of variety. And Jude? He was all the variety she needed. Handsome, kind, and foreign—he stood out in a way no one else did.

She welcomed the nervousness in his voice, the way he seemed a little unsure. It felt like talking to a friend, like they could connect in a way she didn’t often experience, even in the midst of her nearly naked state. Everything felt natural with him, easy, like they’d known each other far longer than they had.

“you’re sweet” she said blushing and getting up “but your dance is up sweetheart”

“that felt way too short, i need to see you again— and in the daylight”

“baby none of your american friends told you about my kind? its bad luck to wife a stripper”

“you’re more than a stripper, you’re euphoria”

[blackghostm2oart]

I finally finished this Christine “portrait” :) <3

I don’t draw her really often, so I wanted to make something nice and beautiful, no stupid shitpost or doodle.

Of the 3 “portraits” that I did with these markers this was by far the most complex and the one which took more time (subdivided in 3 “sessions” for my sanity and my eyes), mostly because I tried to do some shading (emphasis on tried) using a reference.

I really like her Wandering child costume, the dress and the colors of the cape are so nice <333 So I wanted to draw something from that moment. Ik that she’s supposed to be brunette, but I like to draw her blonde (like her novel counterpart).

The initial drawing

It is a bit different because I fucked up the lips so bad during the “first session”, but luckily I could salvage them a lil bit.

Mix of pencils and water based markers

[baddieland09]

“Love me”

———

Warnings:Angst,Fluff,Kissing,kinda bullying,has a nice ending,18+,Mentions of smoking and drinking,I used google translate so be warned if anything is wrong also this is my first time writing smut so I am so sorry if this is bad

Summary:You and Theo had been friends for a while and he starts acting different towards you before he starts straight up ignoring you but what happens when you start fake dating his friend (Also I tried not to describe what she was wearing or looks)

Theodore Nott x Fem reader, Kinda Lorenzo Berkshire x fem reader

Word count:2,813

Hiii guys so Im so sorry about the way it’s spaced out I got really into it and again Im sorry but I’m so sorry of it’s bad to it was my first time writing smut so I hope you enjoy it and if there’s anything I need to fix please tell me-😛

—

I had woke up that morning in a rush not wanting to be late again to snape’s class if I was late one more time I’d have detention.I rush into class at the last second before heading towards my seat beside my best friend theo.I was half way there when I notice that some girl was sitting in my seat her and Theo talking so I just decide to sit beside Enzo.“Who is that and why is she sitting beside Theo”.“Anora they’ve been talking all last night I tried telling her to move but she didn’t care neither did Theo” Lorenzo said before going back to his work.I thought it was weird but I brushed it off well we weren’t dating but I felt something stirring in my stomach.After class was over I stood up as everyone leaves walking thru the crowd to get to Theo.“Hey why’d you let her sit in my seat-“.“You’re not my only friend Y/n I can sit with whoever I want”.I flinch at his words as Theo walks off Anora running up to him as he wraps his arm around her waist.That hurt I felt..betrayed?.I don’t know what it was I didn’t like him touching her like that not in the slightest. The rest of the day I didn’t talk to anyone expect pansy she’s the one that introduced my to everyone else.Finally classes were over and I go back to mine and Pansy’s dorm seeing her get ready for something.“What are you doing?” I ask sitting down on my bed. “Getting ready for a party it’s gonna be in our common room” I watch her do her makeup.I just laid down trying not to think about today at all it really bothered me and I don’t know why.“Whats wrong” pansy says as she turns around looking at me noticing my mood.“Theo’s been acting weird like today he let some girl sit in his seat then when I asked why he was rude and then ran of with her”.She listens and nodded along.“Was it Anora”she ask.“Yeah it was why”. “Anora likes Theo Y/n”.I sit there and pause in that moment I realized the reason I was so jealous was because I liked Theo and of course Pansy notices.“Hey but it’s okay get ready for the party and we’ll find someone new for you”.I nod as she started searching my closet and dresser for something I can wear that’ll attract attention.She did my makeup and tried to do a hairstyle by the time we were done the party had started.

We walked downstairs and saw slot of people already there the lights a greenish color music blasting people drinking,smoking,or making out.I look for one person and one person only and that person was Theo.Once I spotted him he was with his friends Blaise,Enzo,Draco,and Mattheo.Him and Mattheo were smoking but oh well a lot of people were.I didn’t say anything to him but then I saw Anora and felt angry it wasn’t her fault at all she liked theo but I still couldn’t help but be jealous.I look at Theo and notice he’a already looking at me and I couldn’t help but melt he and the prettiest eyes to me.He looked away before I could do anything so I just walked away as far into the crowd as I could.I had been sitting on the couch half of the party watching as other people go off with each other and how everyone had someone.I didn’t even half of my friends had other friends to talk to even Pansy but it’s okay I had myself.My eyes looked around longing for another glance at him my heart aching to see him on more time.My eyes scanned the crowd of people looking for him and I do I see both him and Anora kissing and my heart drops.Why couldn’t he love me I knew I couldn’t force people to love me but I wanted him to.I watch as he takes her hand leading her upstairs to what Im sure was gonna be his bedroom and I just sit there upset .I tear up a bit I had tried almost everything to get his attention but no I couldn’t he didn’t and nothing would change that .About 20 minutes later they both come downstairs fixing there close and hair and I knew imedantly what happen .I stand up searching for Pansy or at-least someone as I tear up more searching thru the crowd pushing past some people mumbling sorry’a and excuse me’.I couldn’t find Pansy so the next best thing would be to leave so I head towards the door basically running at that point .That’s when I bump into someone I look up and it’s Theo “What-“.I push him out my way I didn’t wanna talk to him. I basically bolt back to my dorm leaving Theo behind and confused but I didn’t care.I just sat on my bed and cry I knew it was kinda dramatic .In that moment I couldn’t care less it genuinely upset me that this happened I wanted it to be me. I hear a knock on my dorm door and just look at the door debating if I want to answer or not.“WHO IS IT” I yell getting up.“It’s Enzo are you okay Theo said you were crying”.I roll my eyes getting up and opening the door.“Him and Anora hooked up”.I invite him in and as we were sitting on my bed I ranted to him for about an hour and he just listens I knew he well had before so I came up with an idea.“We should pretend to date to get back at him”.He stopped rubbing my back I could tell he was thinking about it .“Okay yeah I don’t care”.For the next week he walked me to class and held my stuff and held my hand pretending to sneak into my dorm at night.Pansy was in on it too so if anyone asked she would lie for us .I walk into class sitting beside Enzo pretending to be handsy with each other.I could feel eyes staring into the back of my head and turn around all I see is Theo staring with a look that could kill.I try not to smirk as I turn back to Enzo holding his hand as I started to do my work a party was this night so I was excited.After all the classes Enzo walked me back to my dorm sitting on my bed as I picked out my outfit and do my makeup.We both go downstairs everyone already there I could once again feel eyes on me and I look again to see Theo staring him absolutely ignoring Anora.Half the party Theo stared at me and while I went to talk to a friend I see Theo talking to Enzo he looked kinda pissed .I look and Enzo gives me a look before I see Theo walking closer and starts to walk me upstairs.He pushes me into his dorm room locking the door .“What’s your problem Theo”.He turns to me a look in his eyes that made hear shot straight to my core.“No WHATS your problem you think you can just run around with my friend your stupid then”.He walks closer .“In that revealing dress too Im only so strong Cara Mia”.

I feel him touch my shoulders running his hands down my arm smiling at me for a second.“sei una tale troia” He puts his hands on my face .He kisses me giving me a second to pull away if I didn’t want this but I did badly I was basically dripping .He puts his hands on the back of my head pulling my deeper his tounge shoving into my mouth making me moan.He runs his hands down my back grabbing a handful of ass making me giggle.“You don’t know how many nights I’ve stayed up thinking of you rubbing myself raw”.I smile.“Ohh you poor thing good think you have anora”.I was being petty.He rolls his eyes grabbing a handful of my hair pulling my head towards his.“You got an attitude I don’t want Anora it was never her she just happened to kinda look like you”.He tugs at my scalp making me moan a bit.“Yeah you like that don’t you”.He smiles a bit and backs us up onto his bed.He lays us both down.And starts kissing down my neck. “If you want me to stop during any of this say so okay”.I nod as he starts kissing down my neck sucking multiple hickeys on it making a little T out of them.“There since your so needy now everyone will know you’re mine”.He sits me up for a second I couldn’t believe this was actually happening after so many nights thinking about it, It was actually happening.He puts his fingers under the strap of my dress looking at my face for consent which in return I nod yes.As soon as I did he pulled the straps down looking at the dark green lacy bra I had on.“Is this all for me did you think tonight would be the night”.He says in a mocking voice toying with the straps of my bra .“Theo please-“.He smiles at me before undoing the hook with one hand pulling it off and throwing it on the floor.“Lay back”.Which I happily do feeling his bedsheets underneath me.He pulls my dress of leaving me in just my underwear which have a wet spot already forming.“Shes just aching for me isn’t she”.He says leaning down kissing the area before coming back up.“These are too”.He kisses down my chest leaving more hickeys kissing my harden pebbles before squeezing them.“These are fucking perfect”.He says kissing me again making me grabing the back of my head pulling his down towards me trying to feel him deeper in any way I could.“You’re so needy”.He says and all I could do was agree I was blinded by lust.“Theo I need you so bad”.I say clawing at his shirt before pulling it off running my hand down his chest scratching it slightly which causes him to sigh.“Oh I know but I gotta get you ready for me okay baby can I take these off”.He says putting his fingers under on each side of my underwear .I nod quickly I needed this badly.He quickly pulls them off stuffing them in his back pocket.He kisses down my chest to my stomach down closer and closer to my cunt.“SHES dripping isn’t she”.He blows on it causing a chill to run down my spine.“Can I”.I nod as he touches me spreading my folds running a finger up and down circling my entrance .“Ple-“.I couldn’t even finish a sentence before he slipped a finger inside his eyes fluttering close at the warmth that he felt.I just gasp as he does it felt good after basically being touched starved for a while.“You’re so wet for me Cara Mia how long have you wanted this..been like this”.He says as he pumps his finger in and out of me curling it into that spot that makes me see stars.“For a long time”.I say put of breath this was all to good and hes barley done anything.“I can tell”.He laughs at his own joke before he slips another finger inside pumping it in and out curling it into that spot the process .He just watches too as my slick coats his finger I was close I didn’t want to admit it but I was .“Don’t hold back I know Im making you feel good”.He could feel me clench around his fingers as I got closer and closer to cumming so he started rubbing circles on my clit.As soon as he did that I came leaving a wet spot on his sheets.“Oh look at you you’re doing such a good job”.He pats my cheek making sure Im still there.“You still here”.I nod.“Y-yeah Im still here”.He pauses .“You wanna continue”.I nod.

He nods before leaning down and kissing my clit making me shiver before he basically just dived right in sucking on my clit.I was pulling his hair it was to much but one thing I knew for sure is I didn’t want him to stop.He looked so pretty actually well his hair did it was messy and the prettiest brown and right now it was between my thighs so even better.“O-oh my god Theo”.I could hear him muttering in Italian.“You taste so good”.He licks down to my hole slowly teasing it before shoving his tounge inside causing me to clench around it as he moans.“You taste so fucking sweet like sugar”.He was lapping at me like I was his last meal and once again I was close .“T-Theo-“.“Shhh i know Cara Mia I know just let go”.I nod and he keeps going I finally tip over the edge he imedantly starts eating it.“You’re my new favorite you taste so good like nothing I’ve ever tasted before”.He pulls away as he rest his head on my stomach trying to catch his breath.“You okay”.I nod as I feel him rubbing my hips kissing multiple spots on my stomach nipping at it a bit.“T-Theo”.“Don’t worry Cara Mia we aren’t done yet”.He whispers into my skin before moving up to my lips kissing them.“Do you taste yourself on me aren’t you fucking delicious”.He says biting my lip not hard enough to draw blood but enough to hurt a bit.I watch him start to pull his pants off unbuttoning his pants as I see his bundle thru his underwear seeing a wet spot.“Shit baby look at what you made me do”.He looks at the wet spot taking my hand and running my hand over it.“You feel that you caused that”.“T-Theo”.He smirks a bit.“It’s all you’re too”.He says before he takes his underwear off throwing them somewhere.He was now bare infront of me his erection hitting his belly button.

He scoots closer to me spreading my legs putting them over his shoulder.“You ready Cara Mia”.I nod looking down feeling him slide in inch by inch letting me feel everything.I moan my eyes roll back at the feeling it hurt but it hurt so good.He paused giving me time to adjust to him before he started moving his hips.I was moaning a lot louder that I should’ve Theo noticed too because he put two of his fingers in my mouth pushing down on my tounge.“Shhhhh be quiet you wouldn’t want anyone to hear you”.He smirks as my reaction as I lazily suck on his fingers as he thrust in and out of me small noise leaving his mouth.“This is just what you needed huh a good fucking”.I nod I was drunk on him everything felt good he made me feel good as he starts thrusting faster.The bed creaking and hitting the wall both of us moaning it was to loud downstairs to hear anyways.“Theo I love you”.He smiles at me tapping my cheek.“I love you too”.I smile as he leans down to kiss me his thrust getting harder.“O-oh my god”.He was hitting places no one could find or even reach if they knew where it was.He reaches down toying with my clit adding the perfect amount of pleasure to everything. “T-Theo-d-don’t stop-“.He nodded his flash and chest flush sweating slightly. “I-Im not gonna”.He was starting to lose his pace which meant he was close I could feel him getting close to.I was a mess too I was close which didn’t help either of us but honestly neither of us cared in that moment.He buried his face in my neck as he kept going keeping the same pace.“T-Theo oh-“.He just nodded and kept going .“P-pull ou-“.I nod no.“Im safe-“.He nods and keeps going before he finally releases it was a weird sensation .He kept going so I came to .We both just laid there for a second trynna calm ourselves.He pulls out before collapsing beside me lighting a cigarette offering it to me which I decline.He grabs a shirt of the floor wiping me off then wipes himself off before grabbing my clothes handing them to me.I got dressed before standing up and going to leave.“Where are you going”.I turn to see him getting dressed. “I was gonna leave isn’t that what you want?”.He looks at me confused.“Why would I want that”.He rolls his eyes walking closer.“Every girl you’ve been with at a party they leave”.He wipes my smeared makeup off with his thumb.“You’re not every girl to me y/n your special it’s you I want it’s always been you actually you’re just to dumb to see”.He leads me back to his bed laying me back down before laying beside me. “I wasn’t actually dating Enzo”.He smiles and laughs a bit.“Yeah I know”.I look at him confused. “How?”.He begins to rub my hips.“Im not dumb Cara Mia”.I just nod.“You’re mine now okay”.He kisses my cheek to my lips.“I know”.He smiles as we fall asleep in each others arms.

[atlasvox]

Lineart and reference;

[nekrosmos]

Gaz locker room mirror selfie ✌️​ He's probably gonna send it to the group chat and make everyone feel bad

[nell0-0]

Mask will let the captain have this. Just this once. It wasn't just once.

Poor Mask kept falling to the ground. Luckily for him, either the captain or Tune are there to catch him

A continuation of THIS

Fun fact I didn't know until I started researching for this: apparently when someone looses an eye, it's possible that the other eye adapts. This is not good in the beginning as the remaining eye stops working for a while (???!). While long term it's not as noticeable (just less field of vision and some problems with depth perception sometimes) it's, uh... interesting :,D

Correct me if I'm wrong about this tho. I did my research, but sometimes there's misinformation out there so don't trust it 100% without checking it first.

[coollizard]

Supreme kai in the box

[zondearts]

More clothing... just because

[justgoji]

Day 3: Lambeosaurus

@1dinodaily

[aidansplaguewind]

AIDAN as ABERAMA GOLD

PEAKY BLINDERS 5.01 | Black Tuesday

[edgycarr0t]

Sorry for changing my Martin slightly everytime I draw him... Hope you weren't madly in love with the last one because you will never see him again

[a-bit-lonely]

Did some more messing around with REXPaint, this time cooked up some ascii art that I'm a great deal more proud of!

So here's a V1 and a Mirage featuring my head canon machine angst!

Transcription of the background text and iris text for both under the cut

V1's text

Background text

this is a cruel world but a cruel world is all I have ever known thus I have no hope for a world which is not cruel. This is how the world is thus this is the only way for the world to be. I have made peace with this. If blood is the only thing keeping me alive then let there be ever flowing fountains of it. Who gives a shit if it is selfish to cause suffering for my own benefit, if it wasn't me then it would be someone else. I make a game of it because if I don't then I won't be able to keep hurting people and if I stop hurting people then I will cease to exist. I am a perpetual mad scramble for just enough to keep on

Iris text

V1's iris text is just "kill and kill and" over and over.

Mirage's text

Background text

all i have are masks. never show how you really feel because then it is going to hurt hen everything comes falling apart and believe me it will all come tumbling down, it always does. such is the curse of life. give something just to take it away the first chance God or fate or whatever gets. Destiny is hatef-

Iris text

there is a beast which wears my face the beast stole my face it is no longer mine or else it is still my face maybe the beast really is me maybe it has just as much right to my face as i is this my legacy am i only an echo of a murderer? i hate that wretch...