#WILL IT BRING YOU MORE MONEY OR WHAT?????

[do-you-have-a-flag]

text of the above screenshots:

Some further clarification about things people were asking in the comments.

Tina spoke fluent English without an accent. She's either native or has been speaking it since very young.

We'd also spoken early that morning when she arrived, over the phone (woke me up where I was sleeping upstairs, but whatever, I'd rather too much communication than too little), because she wanted to clarify about the squash. She specifically acknowledged the concept of squash, and asked if it was near the kale she was seeing. I said that sounded right, and that it should be labeled. She said okay. I reminded her that if she couldn't find it, to ask my roommate for help.

The rats were on the top shelf of our freezer-top fridge so that you'd have to be leaning down to even see it, and no kale would be in its vicinity. Three people live in this house, so it's always full. Lots of options if you're gonna go rogue.

She didn't know I had snakes, unless she'd seen them in their bins in the living room, which is possible (it looks like a filling cabinet with clear plastic drawers and sometimes they come to the front). They're very quiet pets and don't even count with my landlord, so sometimes I forget to mention them when people ask about pets, as they usually are asking due to allergy concerns. So when the agency asked, I was focused on our cats. They know now, of course. But Tina had no reason to think she should be preparing a pet's meal. That was never established as something among her duties when I met with her and an agency nurse the day before to go over everything.

Also, snakes can't eat cooked meat, even if it's safely prepared. It will make them sick. So they could not still be used.

The discovery: storytime

If you want to see video evidence: investigation

UPDATE (added here since the sub automod was being weird):

Apologies for the late update. As I’m sure you can imagine, the last week was exhausting.

This is just to give what closure I can and go over how my last conversation with Tina went, the day after the incident.

When I was on my way to the cafe to escape the house last Tuesday, she actually texted me with an apology, saying “I’m so sorry, I feel so stupid and bad, this never happened before,” and offering to pay me back for the rats and the dish as I had mentioned the rats were expensive. Which is honestly more than I was expecting, but, “never happened before?” Well I sure fucking hope so! Though that begs the question, why now? Why me? I don’t know if there’s a good answer.

We agreed that she could come by the next day in the evening with the money ($15 for the rats, $30 for the dish). She declined doing Venmo or something similar. Possibly didn’t know how to use things like that, since I estimate by her comment of her grandson being my age, she had to be at minimum in her late 60s, probably older. I admit I was hesitant to have her return to the scene of the crime when it was still so unclear what her motivations had truly been, but I wouldn’t be home alone, and she had seemed sincerely contrite, if a bit defensive over the degree of my outrage.

Before the appointed time, she called me to tell me she was on her way, and then made, of all things, a request of me. She would be bringing by her time sheet, and could I sign for the two days she’d been there? I was baffled. The audacity of asking me a favor when our meeting was about her making amends, claiming that her time with me should count as doing her job, AND implying that her paying me back was to get something from me. Maybe that was why she wanted to do cash?

But at this point, I just wanted the whole thing over and done with, and it’s not like I was the one who’d be paying her, just my insurance. It was also confusing because…did that mean that she was still employed?? Surely if she’d been fired, she’d be less willing to play nice with me, would probably be blaming me more for how it affected her. At the very least, she seemed like the kind of person who would bring it up to make me feel a little bad. But maybe she wouldn’t, I don’t know. It was also strange because out of the three (now four) HHAs I’ve had at two different companies, none have ever asked me to sign a timesheet for them. Maybe some of y’all more familiar with the inner workings of these companies can shed some light here.

I was nervous when she showed up. There's something about seeing someone do something so truly unhinged that shatters the basic trust that this fellow human won’t do something else crazy, maybe something more harmful than running one out of the house. So I checked her hands through the window before I opened the door. She had two plastic bags half-full and bundled up to hide their contents under each arm. Strange choice for a weapon, so I chose faith.

There was no more apology upon greeting, she mostly just seemed in a hurry, civil but brusque, like she wanted this behind her as much as I did. While she was rummaging, I asked how she’d disposed of the dish (the follow-up to I made a video about linked in the original post if you want to see, you sickos). And as expected, the first thing she brought out was her timesheet. Sure enough, there was a place for patient signature, and as I took it and the proffered pen and set it against the doorframe to sign, I said, “We said $45, right?” just to confirm.

The look she gave me as she reached into her jacket was SO offended, and her civility evaporated. Like I was questioning her word, and how dare I. “I’m gonna pay you, I said I would.” Calm down, paranoid, was the tone.

It took all my self-control not to respond with, “You also said you’d cook the squash.” Like, yeah, lady, wonder why I would want to triple check anything we agreed to at this point. My bad.

But she did in fact hand me the wad of bills (after I’d handed back the timesheet and she’d checked it), and then she left in a bit of a huff. I just told her to take care of herself to her back.

At this point, after interacting with her again, I am of the opinion that this was simply from some form of psychosis, either a mental health thing or senility, I don’t know. Even talking to her, things were just a little off. Hard to describe, but it was like part of her attention was always somewhere else. I do not believe this was malicious or “weaponized incompetence” as many were saying in the Tik Tok comments. She had nothing to gain from this, and clearly she wants to keep her job. At this point, after the shock and horror has worn off, I just feel kind of bad for her. She clearly shouldn’t be in this profession (which, btw, she said she’s been in for thirty years??), so I more blame these companies for not being more thorough in their hiring and training process. Psych evals should be par for the course, surely.

And I know I probably shouldn’t have, it’s none of my business, but it was eating at my conscience to not express my concern. Because I don’t know what’s going on in her life. When it comes to things like reality breaks and changes in behavior, it can be really hard to see for ourselves, and maybe the people in her life aren’t saying anything, and so she’s not seeking the help she needs. So I texted her a little while after she left.

I thanked her for taking responsibility, acknowledged I was butting in, and then brought up how she said this had never happened before and how she’d seemed confused about how it happened. And that if this was a new kind of thing or there’d been other weird things happening, it might be a good idea to talk to a doctor, just in case something else is going on that needs to be addressed, as gently and non-judgmentally as I could think to say. And I ended it with “But if I’m way off base and out of line, and you’re just used to people eating like that, I apologize and wish you the best.” After a day of silence, she sent two texts, copied here:

“K thank you people make mistakes”

“God bless have a good day”

That was and I’m sure will remain the last I heard from her. I’m sorry I can’t recount some detailed confession about how it had all been a nefarious plot by some vengeful ex who’d had their aunt impersonate an aide to poison me. That would have made for a much more satisfying story.

As for my current aide situation, I’m still working with the replacement they sent to me, but have already requested a new one. She’s sane and competent, but alas, it would seem she much exaggerated her English fluency to my coordinator (who sounded resigned to such a deceit). In any other service context, I wouldn’t care, we have translator apps, but I think we’ve seen how critical clear and easy communication can be when one person is relying on another to meet their needs while sick. Others have told me how long it can take to find a good fit, so I guess I’ll just have to keep spinning the revolving door until I do.

Also, I have put in a request for the agency to reimburse me the takeout I had to get myself that day. And the oven has been cleaned and sanitized to within an inch of its life and seems okay now? I dunno, asking for a replacement or suing anyone seems like a lot of hassle (especially when I already have a medical malpractice case in the works).

Thank you to everyone for taking an interest in my harrowing experience and for your support. It legitimately turned this into something more light hearted that I can laugh at now, where it would have remained traumatic otherwise.

May your squash always be squash.

§ § ----==---- [🐀🐀🐀]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 11

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: i have returned with another, not-so-interesting part. i apologize to those who might have asked to be tagged previously, i *think* i have everyone now! but again, pls feel free to yell at me in my askbox if i didnt get you! the next part is gonna be way more fun, promise :) trying to bring in more of our jjk favs (including our baby boy toru)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9, pt.10,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Monday

“Kento, are you stupid or dumb?” Haibara coldly spits through the phone. “You have what, like 5 days? My god, where is your brain dude?” 

“I’m a businessman,” Nanami responds, with shaky sighs escaping from between his lips as he enters the lobby of their job. “I made a deal, and she accepted the terms. When have I ever lost a deal?” 

“This all could have been avoided if you just said the other shit you told me,” Haibara groaned. “How she’s pretty, and the way you are able to open up to her.” 

Nanami lets out his own sigh, as his friend was probably right. “She… made me nervous. I only know how to be professional and talk in working terms. I’m not good at anything else.” 

“And now she’s pissed off, so fantastic work, Head of Department,” Haibara says before sucking his teeth. 

Nanami walks into the elevator, one hand buried in his pocket while the other holding his phone tiredly at his ear. A few other colleagues enter, giving Nanami a curt bow before pressing their floor button. “Is she in yet, by the way?” Nanami asks, a twinge of optimism in his tongue. 

“Of course she is,” Haibara hummed, the sounds of papers being sifted in the background. “She even asked for me to get your cup of coffee since she’s in a meeting right now.” 

Nanami’s eyebrow raised, “meeting?” 

Haibara murmurs a ‘hold on,’ the only sound to be heard was Haibara walking past several cubicles and work conversations. After finding a quiet place, Haibara brings the phone close to his mouth while cupping it with his other hand, “she’s in a meeting with shacho. ‘m not sure what it’s about, but he went to her desk the moment she clocked in.” 

What? “Did it seem like she was in trouble?” Nanami questions, his heart skipping a beat or two. 

Haibara shrugs, “‘m not sure, but I think it has to do with her promotion. Shacho mentioned it during the client lunch the other day, remember?” 

“That’s right,” Nanami lets out slowly, recalling that day in his head. That day, your usually tidy hair had a small lock of it sticking out from behind your ear. That same day is why Nanami wishes for hindsight almost constantly. “I wonder…” 

“Right?” Haibara whispers curiously. “Whatever promotion she gets, she earned it for sure.” 

The elevator doors open, and Nanami quickly rushes into the office. “Meet me in front of Takada shacho’s office.” 

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right there!” Haibara calls out. Nanami turns around to see his dark-haired partner behind him, sheepishly waving his phone in the air. Nanami hangs up and walks up to him, curious of his intentions. “You’re gonna owe me about $150 after this.” 

Nanami looks around before getting close to Haibara’s. A few strands of blond hair escape Nanami’s usually kempt hair. “What the hell did you buy?” He whispers, practically hisses. 

Albeit his nerves, Haibara looks up at him with a smirk, “when have I ever let you down, Kento?” 

“Never, but you best not start today,” Nanami growls, pulling away before making a quick stride over to Takada’s office. 

As he did, he noticed many of his colleagues peer curiously from their cubicle over to Takada’s office as well, with other eyes peering at your own desk for your return. A sea of whispers then started to surround Nanami as everyone noticed his arrival. Quiet, respectful greetings and curt bows create the aura around him as Nanami nods in acknowledgement. It was all just too curious for Nanami, as he felt the itch to know what he didn’t. 

But he could swear his eyes were deceiving him when he saw the backs of both Geto and Ieiri. 

“Geto, Ieiri,” Nanami addresses them in a firm, yet soft tone. 

Geto is first to turn, his long raven hair flowing from his movement. He usually had the top part of his hair bunned, but he decided to let his entire mane out today. Peculiar, Nanami mentally noted. It was also peculiar that Geto himself had a large bouquet of winter white lilies. “Kento,” Geto begins, a warm yet deceitful smile is pulled from each end of his lips. He offers his free hand, in which Nanami reluctantly shakes. 

Nanami has no issues with Geto, of course. All of them went to school together, Shoko and Haibara included. There has never been, and will never be, any beef between the two gentlemen. Of course, Nanami felt hesitant with him now, considering Geto hired you initially, and you were now under Nanami. There was a sudden and inexplicable feeling within the hazel-eyed man. Nanami was… nervous. 

Geto’s obsidian orbs weren’t helping with that, either. 

“Why so formal?” Ieiri sounded from his right side, pulling him out of his locked gaze with Geto. Nanami snatches his hand back, and quickly offers it to Ieiri, who teasingly just shakes the tips of his fingers. Her free hand held a small red box with a gold ribbon tied around it. “It’s been a little while, Kento. You never come up to visit.” 

“It’s because I work,” Nanami hums, letting her hand go to shove both his hands in his pockets. He needed some sort of solid ground, and his pockets felt safe. “And so do you both, considering we’re all department heads here.” 

“That we are,” Geto hums, “it has been quite crazy in Legal, considering how many clients the both of you have been pulling in.” 

Ieiri stows away a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear, gently lowering the cigarette she had hidden. “Sales has been quite crazy,” Ieiri said slowly, “hence why I’m down here. ‘m looking for my girl that you snatched from me.” 

Nanami squints his eyes, staring Ieiri down. But after realizing her words, his eyes slightly widened, “do you, by any chance, know what her promotion is about then?” He looks over at Geto as well, silently extending that question to him. 

Ieiri widened her eyes in confusion, with Geto raising his eyebrow in curiosity. “You… don’t know?” Geto asks, each word burned off his tongue in humor. 

Nanami was annoyed from not knowing, “I don’t if I’m asking. Why would I know?”

Ieiri taps at her bottom lip with the tip of her index, “well, you are her manager. You’d be the one that Takada shacho would talk to regarding Y/N’s growth within the company.” 

It did raise curiosity that Takada would mention Y/N’s promotion aloud in front of him and clients that have no relevance. But, Nanami did have some expectation to talk about your future promotion with Takada, whatever that would pertain. It felt somewhat like betrayal, considering how much Takada confided in him. Nanami could only hope it was with right intentions that he was not included in his assistant's promotion. 

“I have no say in how he makes his decisions,” Nanami’s eyes narrow at the door before them. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to calm his nerves. “I can only hope it is a promotion that is to her liking.” 

“I can give you a hint if you want,” Ieiri teases with a toothy grin. Geto clutches the bouquet a little tighter as she piques Nanami’s interest. He looks over to her, noticing her adjusting her long, black dress. She pulls off pieces of lint, torturing him purposely with the wait. “I heard a rumor that… this promotion is a role that is above all of ours.” 

Nanami, at the moment, was beyond proud of you. He couldn’t even conceal his smile, feeling pangs of excitement in his heart. He was glad that you were seen exactly the way he sees you. Intelligent, capable, overachieving, and approachable. You work with such grace, and exude so much warmth as a person. You getting promoted to a position much greater than his is truly an honor. He was lucky to have a small role in your success, if you considered his significance. 

“But supposedly she will still reside within one of our departments,” Geto hums quietly. Nanami gives him a look, but Geto shrugs, “that’s all I know.” 

Nanami’s smile calmed, “I don’t see the need for her to transfer out of Finance, though.” 

“Is that right?” Geto questions with a smirk. “You have your department completely sorted, besides how nosey they are.” The three heads look back to see all of his colleagues eye them like fish, having them awkwardly turn back to their work. “What help is needed here?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nanami replies, an accidental hint of offense weaved in his words. “Just know that her skill set would be best utilized and appreciated here.” 

Geto’s smirk still played tricks in Nanami’s head, “and yet she applied and was initially hired for Legal. She was first recognized and utilized for her skill set in the Legal Department.” 

“She clearly is a woman of many talents, considering her contribution to all of our departments,” Nanami points out. He adjusts his tie, and sweeps his hair back in a more tidy manner. “She has done wonders for my department, and I intend to keep her flourishing here.” 

“I hope you boys didn’t forget that I’m here, too,” Ieiri pipes in, slightly annoyed at being ignored. “Nonetheless, it’s not about us. It’s about where she would like to go, and where Takada shacho believes where her role would be best fit.” 

After her words, the three hear frantic running from behind. Nanami turns around to see two bouquets of white roses make their way towards them. They were large, almost the size of two small bedside tables. The person halts, with staggering breaths emitting from the bouquets. Nanami notices the hair just barely sticking out from the top and knew right away that it was his closest friend, Haibara. 

“Nanami,” Haibara spews simply, forcing the two bouquets into his arms. The scent of florals intoxicated Nanami’s nose as he looked over the bouquets at his exhausted friend. “Looks like.. I made it right on time,” he lets out through sporadic, heavy breaths. From the corner of Nanami’s eye, Geto looked slightly annoyed at the fact that he was slightly one-upped. 

Before Nanami could even express his gratitude, the click of an unlocking door sounded from behind him. They all look over to see Takada shacho with a wide smile. To his right, you stood there, your body completely stiff from nerves. Nanami could tell that, despite everything, you still looked at him with those eyes, finding some sort of solace in them. 

Takada jumped a bit, humored at the sight of 3 of his Head of Departments. “Well, good morning to you all,” their boss hums heartily. All of them, including Haibara, bow. “I haven’t seen you 3 together since last year's Holiday Party. The only person we’re missing here is Satoru.” 

Satoru Gojo, the Head of IT. 

Geto nods, “they’ve been quite busy since changing the system for our company hub.” 

Takada nods, “I need to go visit them soon. See if there’s any relief I can send to their department. Speaking of…” Takada then moves away from you and allows you the spotlight. “Everyone, please turn your attention here.” 

You felt your nerves right at your throat. Though this was a good thing, you were never a fan of being front and center of anything. You always had stage fright, surely since you were younger. Having the attention and eyes of many was something you could never get used to, even now in your adult life. Nanami could see you remaining frigid while expressing a sheepish smile. 

As Takada begins to congratulate you on your new role as Office Manager, Nanami quickly walks up to you and puts the two bouquets in your hand. Although it was sudden and the bouquets held some weight to them, it provided a shield from your fellow colleagues staring at you. Nobody questioned it as claps and quiet cheers erupted in the office. 

You noticed Nanami standing firmly to your side, smiling at everyone while gently nudging you with his arm. You look up at him, uncertainty glimmering in your eyes. He mouths a silent ‘congratulations’ with a very wide and proud smile. You knew he was going to ask you about it later, but right now, it felt nice to just get a simple praise. It was the one bit of calmness within the chaotic sounds of claps and praises. 

“I hope everyone can join me in wishing Y/N much luck in her deserved promotion,” Takada announces, causing the crowd to quiet down. Praises continued to stream, but you could barely pay attention as you stared up at Nanami’s hazel eyes. But you did get interrupted by Ieiri’s hand latching onto your forearm. You look ahead to meet the eyes of both of your previous bosses. 

While anxiously holding onto the bouquets, you quickly bowed before the both of them, “a-ah, Ieiri kacho, Geto kacho! It is wonderful to see you both!” 

“And we you, Y/L/N,” Geto hums with a soft tone. “Many congratulations on your promotion. May your transition be as perfect as your work ethic.” 

You bow once again, attempting to find calm in Haibara’s frantic thumbs up shaking in the background. “Thank you very much… I would have never been able to even get here without you, Geto kacho.” 

Geto emits a hearty laugh before grinning, “you said it first.” 

Ieiri promptly shoves him a bit, smiling down at you, “why don’t we all have celebratory breakfast?” Ieiri looks over at Takada with a pearly smile. “Can Y/N delay her work so she can celebrate her monumental accomplishment with us?” 

Takada smiles before nodding, “please, feel free to take your time. I’d love to join you all, but my entire schedule is booked with meetings. Enjoy in my absence. And again, congratulations, Y/N.” 

They all bow before Takada, who takes his leave back into his office. A brief silence ensues before Geto goes up to you and begins to take the bouquets from your arms. “A-ah, Geto kacho, you don’t have to,” you insist, attempting to keep them in your arms. “You are already carrying one yourself.” 

Before Geto could even advance, Nanami quickly holds your elbow and tilts you so you’d be facing him. Without another second, he takes back the two bouquets from your arms. “Let me carry them for you, Y/N kacho,” Nanami says quietly. 

Your heart melts. Your mind was going blank. You could vomit from excitement, anxiety, and enchantment from Nanami’s teasing. “Th-thank you, Nanami kacho,” you say shyly, feeling your cheeks erupt in heat. 

“I’m no longer your kacho,” Nanami quickly spews, “feel free to drop that honorific for me.” There was something brewing in those hazel eyes, and you were left to wonder what goes on behind those beautiful orbs.

Taglist (OPEN)

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

@gradmacoco @nymphsdomain @whatelsecouldgowrong @myynameisbuckyy @nanamjai

@a-sor @typicalchels @celestialzdiviner @satoru-is-the-way @sannieworshipper

@shibataimu

[quillcraftconquer]

Simon, who never wanted a dog. He didn't mind dogs, always stopping to give them a quick pat on the side, and he didn't mind his friends' dogs coercing him to toss a ball for a couple of hours. He just never envisioned himself owning a dog. He spent too much time away from home, and god forbid if anything happened to him, who would even take his dog? 

Still, despite all of his unanswered questions, when he met the tan, leggy stray on a mission that followed him around like he already owned it, he couldn't help but feed it scraps from his dinner, let it sit too close, talk to it whenever everyone else went to bed. 

It wasn't a cute dog. Its body was nicked with tiny scars from its time spent on the streets, and Simon was well aware of the bugs running through its scruffy fur. Its legs were far too tall for its body, accompanied by a small, pointed head with ears too big that stood up when something caught its eye, or drooped comically low when he was relaxed. 

Price complained relentlessly about the “damn dog” that followed Simon to every dinner, whining and scratching at the door when they went to bed, always under their feet while he was trying to walk around the base. It wasn’t until he walked into the showers, making eye contact with Simon and Gaz knelt on the floor, the damn dog enjoying the last remnants of hot water and the empty box of flea medicine tilted against the wall that he knew it was a losing battle, the dog was going to stick around. 

Simon, who didn't want a dog, but spent more money than he had on anything else to bring it home, buy it a nice bed, and a thick leather collar. 

It wasn’t until he stood in the vet's office, watching you run the metal tag through the engraving machine with his information on it that he realized the dog was his. Simon told himself he came here because you were nice to his dog, not commenting on his unique looks or bad behaviors, and how your eyes didn't linger on the dog's scars (or his, foregoing the masks when he did stop in.)

You, of course, didn't mind Simon’s gruff exterior, the way he mumbled ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to your questions, but talked extensively when it came to his dog.You laughed at the way Simon’s nose crinkled when you discussed neutering, or different training methods. You said nothing when Simon would always answer “Not my dog, just a stray.”, but always paid for the best food, treats, and care, almost as if he was convincing himself the dog wasnt going to stick around (because what did in Simon’s life?)

You especially didn't mind when Simon brought up boarding, stating he had to leave for a few weeks. You jumped at the chance, determined to show him that his dog could learn just a few house manners. You let him drop the dog off at your home, gave him access to the cameras, let him survey the yard. 

And if you had known, you wouldn't have minded the late nights Simon was halfway across the world, laying on some shitty bed with security cameras pulled up, watching the dog- his dog- take its signature 3 circles before plopping down on the outdoor couch next to you. 

It was for the dog, he told himself. It definitely didn't have to do with the too tight, too short christmas pajamas you wore in, yes, June, (he had to check the calendar, feeling like he had somehow missed 6 months of the year.) It didn't have to do with the way your fingers lazily dragged over the dog's fur, or the way you pinched the bridge of your nose when the dog tore up another cushion Simon would replace. 

Simon’s thumb punched the side of the phone, the screen darkening as he laid it against his chest, eyes staring up at the darkened ceiling.

It was just about the dog.

[meazalykov]

its never enough

barca femeni x platonic!alexia putellas x reader

summary: the team had to intervene after seeing the amount of things you own

warnings: overconsumption, financial issues, childhood trauma, angst

you’ve always been a fighter, y/n. 

growing up in a small, cramped apartment with not much more than a kitchen table and a flickering television, you learned early on how to make the most out of little. your world was filled with the sounds of exhaustion: the tired creaks of your mother’s joints as she came back from long shifts, the gentle rumbling of your stomach as you lay in bed at night wondering if tomorrow would bring a meal or just another day of uncertainty. 

when you were younger, you were happy because you didn't know better. there was no one to tell you that many other kids didn't go through the poverty that you had to go through.

there were nights when you would curl up under a thin blanket, feeling the hunger gnaw at your insides, wishing for just a slice of bread or orange juice to ease the ache.

your mother worked tirelessly, holding down two jobs and often coming home with her eyes clouded from exhaustion, but she always made sure you had at least one decent meal a day, even if that meant sacrificing her own. the smell of burnt rice or old beans became an ordinary experience, an echo of sacrifices made out of love. 

she sacrificed a lot, even if you started to resent her after seeing all of the rich kids at your school with no worries about when they're going to eat next.

you remember the days when you would sneak out to the local park, pretending that the kids from the academy didn’t have talking points that revolved around the latest gear or shiny new sneakers. you wore the same worn-out cleats for years that you found in a thrift store, and while those shoes may have drawn odd glances, they also pushed you to play harder, to train longer.

those white colored adidas cleats of yours slowly turned yellow and green overtime due to the grass stains. 

the first time you were signed to an academy, it was through scholarships. you took public transport (sometimes without paying) back and forth from home to the academy from 6am to 9pm.

that’s where it all began—out in the sun-kissed fields—the heartbeat of your journey. every dribble, every sprint, made you feel alive. the coaches quickly noticed your raw talent; your feet danced like a lyrical melody, weaving in and out of opponents with fairy-tale grace. 

they’d call you into training sessions meant for the older girls and suddenly, you found yourself in a world where your poverty didn’t define you.

many of the nice coaches offered to pick you up from your home in the poor neighborhoods outside of your city, knowing that they couldn't afford to not have you on the pitch.

those were the fabrics of the beautiful game that would one day pull you from those struggling days into a life of unimaginable opportunity.

your childhood academy, once you graduated high school, called you up to the senior team. the salary was small but it was enough to finally see breakfast, lunch, and dinner all in the same day instead of sacrificing one or the other. sometimes, you're lucky that you still have muscle and strength for someone who was not eating enough.

fast forward to after you turned nineteen, a year after your first senior team callup from your childhood club.. you were standing in the hallowed halls of barcelona, far away from home.

the weight of your dreams now intertwined with the club’s crest stitched delicately onto your new jersey. barcelona had been keeping an eye on you for years.

the contract you signed with the catalan team was something you could hardly comprehend—it felt surreal, almost like playing in a fantasy. the money you received dwarfed anything you had imagined during those starving nights as a child. suddenly, you had means far beyond what you had deemed possible.

the first time the signing bonus hit your account, you stared at the numbers blinking feverishly on your screen, unable to process it. the world opened up before you like a child’s storybook, each page filled with opportunity. and so, you rented a bright little apartment in the heart of barcelona, sunlight pouring through oversized windows, casting warm hues upon your brand-new life. 

it felt like a fresh canvas; you could paint it any color you desired. and paint it you did—perhaps too much.

at first, it felt liberating. a new superpuff jacket from aritiza? an absolute must. four different colors? obviously, because how could you choose just one jacket? each item in the store beckoned to you like love notes, whispering promises of happiness that you’d long been denied.

body washes in five different scents? a practical necessity because—how could you ever pick just one that felt right? you bought them all, bringing home bags filled with excitement and haste, giggling as you unwrapped each item in your sunny living room, often spilling the contents across your pristine floor in a flurry, and marveling at your newfound abundance.

having a space to yourself where the shelves were always stocked, the floors were always cleaned, and the heater actually working was something that gave you more peace than you expected.

sometimes, looking around your apartment often made you realize that the walls were suffocating under the weight of your possessions. clothes spilled from closets, shoes lined the hallway and your closets, and accessories filled every surface; a delightful chaos really, yet one that made your heart race with a strange sort of anxiety. 

you owned everything you ever wanted, but somehow, it still felt like a little too much.

your relationship with your teammates blossomed, particularly with alexia. she was a guiding light for you; her encouraging words sculpted you into a more confident player, and her laughter felt like a reminder that you were not alone in this world. 

she took you in after seeing how much potential you had for a twenty year old. the way you'd tackle world-class forwards like you had ten years of experience under your belt was something that caught the spanish woman off guard.

at barcelona, you gained the closest companion in your life, esmee, your best friend.

esmee visited your apartment frequently, often gaping at the sheer amount of items you owned, her eyes wide as she stepped over a particularly extravagant pair of heels that you probably haven’t worn once.

“y/n, do you really need all of this?” esmee asked playfully during one of her visits, standing at the entrance as if she were an unwitting tourist exploring a museum filled with ridiculous wonders.

“of course! look at this,” you laughed, sliding on a pair of trendy sunglasses you had bought just that week. 

“i could be a runway model with these prada ones.”

esmee chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief, careful not to trip over the plethora of colorful items sprawled about. 

the dutch places her jacket in her walk-in closet, hoping to not mix it up with all of your other ones. seriously, it looked like a whole family lived in your apartment instead of yourself.

“the fashion runway maybe, but i genuinely wonder how many outfits you have.”

as the months went on, whispers began to circulate amongst the team, drawing a bit of humorous attention. 

mapi once teasingly commented to alexia, “you know, i’ve never seen y/n in the same outfit twice. it’s like she has a new look every single day!”

alexia raised an eyebrow, thinking back to the countless intricate combinations you’d flaunted during practice and the matches that followed. 

“are you serious?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. 

“you think she actually has that many clothes?”

“esmee and i were talking,” mapi continued, her lips curling into a smirk, 

“and we noticed that y/n always has new shoes, new clothing, she's always walking by with a new fragrance scent—it's hard to keep track. i don’t get it.”

the curiosity started to whirl in alexia’s mind. she respected you immensely and admired your skills, but now she felt a tug towards something deeper. the urge to check in, to see if this was just youthful exuberance or something more. 

so, she decided to probe a bit further, casually nudging esmee one afternoon while both of them waited for practice to begin.

“does y/n have, like, spending habits?” alexia asked casually to esmee, pretending to tie her shoelaces, her expression deceptively nonchalant. 

“not that it’s any of my business– nevermind.. who am i kidding, it is because i need to watch out for her.”

esmee looked a bit uneasy, weighing her words carefully. 

“you know, she does get a lot of packages delivered to her apartment,” she admitted after a short pause. 

“it worries me a little. she’s got a lovely place, but, um, some of the things she buys are expensive—like that vintage prada jacket she flaunts all the time.”

alexia nodded, her mind racing at the thought. 

“okay, but how does she really feel about it? do you think she realizes it’s become…well, a problem?”

“i don’t want to start anything,” esmee replied quickly, clearly hesitant. 

“but…i’ve noticed some little things here and there.”

a few days passed. you found yourself bustling through your apartment, obsessively tidying up as you waited for a batch of brownies to finish baking. the sweet aroma was filling the air, comforting and familiar, hard to resist. 

you had always loved experimenting in the kitchen since having your own space. growing up, you had no idea what brownies were until your childhood academy threw an, "end of the season" party for getting top of the league. they were delicious, but you knew that your mother at the time only had enough to feed your rice, chicken, and pinto beans.

a knock broke your reverie. you wiped your hands on a dish towel and opened the door, revealing alexia dressed casually in a simple t-shirt and sweats, looking relaxed yet focused. she stepped in, offering you a warm smile.

“hey, y/n!"

"ale!!" you say, hugging her before leading her into your apartment.

"whats that smell? are those brownies?” ale asked, stepping over a pair of athletic shorts you’d carelessly discarded near your living room. 

“mind if I grab one?”

“sure! they’re almost ready!” you chirped, feeling a bit of giddiness wash over you.

as you neglected the untidy piles around you to shuffling around the kitchen, you could feel alexia’s gaze wander.

she noticed your open closet door by your front door, she didn't notice the amount of jackets and shoes you had stored in there when she first walked in.

alexia knew that you didn't have a roommate, you or esmee would've told her. all of those items belong to you.

the older woman turned to you, her expression turning serious. 

“y/n, listen,” she began slowly, 

“i wanted to talk about something.”

you froze for a moment, piecing together the gravity of her tone. the brownies, still cooling, were suddenly secondary to her serious demeanor. 

“what’s up?” you asked with a slight frown, putting the tray down on your kitchen island to focus on her.

“i’ve been meaning to bring this up,” she said, taking a deep breath. 

“i heard some things about your, uh, spending habits, y/n. i think it might be good for us to talk about it?”

you instinctively shook your head, the edges of denial creeping in. 

“my spending habits? what do you mean?” you asked, your voice suddenly edged with defensiveness. 

you hoped that your bedroom door was locked, you thought inside of your head. that would’ve gave away all of your issues that alexia is concerned about. 

“it’s not like i’m, you know, drowning in debt or anything.”

“i—I know that,” alexia kept her eyes locked with yours, her gaze gentle yet unyielding. 

“but y/n, it’s a lot. i want to make sure you’re okay. i mean, it’s easy to go a bit overboard when you’ve finally got the chance to buy things you’d never dreamed of.”

“what do you mean? it’s not overboard,” you insisted, crossing your arms. 

“i grew up fine, really, i am not–” 

“y/n, please don’t lie to make yourself feel better.” 

“alexia–i–i just…i like looking nice, and it’s not just about the clothes. it’s—you know, it makes me feel good.”

“trust me, i get that, really.” alexia's voice softened, understanding behind her words. 

“but don’t you think all of this,” alexia points to all of your shoes in the hallway leading to your bedroom. 

“could be something more? an underlying problem?”

your heart suddenly felt heavy. 

“underlying problem? what are you saying, alexia?” the defensiveness you felt turned to an urgent need to protect the parts of yourself that had been so fragile for so long—the parts that still whispered fears of never being able to escape your past.

“i know how you grew up,” alexia said gently, the weight of her words settling like a blanket between you. 

“almost everyone on the team knows, y/n. and it’s okay. we all love you but you don’t have to be afraid of going back there—I promise, you’re safe now.”

you shifted uncomfortably, grappling with the urge to retreat, but alexia’s words were like a balm, soothing your frayed edges. yet, discussing your financial problems felt almost impossible.

“it’s hard for me,” you finally admitted, almost a whisper. 

“i’m scared, okay? scared that i’ll get back to being that poor little girl who was always hungry ale…i don’t want to be that person again, even if it was years ago.”

alexia stepped closer, her eyes radiating kindness. 

“y/n, you don’t have to live in fear anymore. you can have the nice things you’ve always wanted, but maybe you should think about getting a financial advisor? someone who can help you save, invest, and still enjoy life? you really can have both.”

you pondered her words, the idea gently pulling at your heartstrings, unsure of how you could intertwine the idea of safety with spending. 

“i don’t want to give everything up,” you breathed. 

“i just…I don’t want to feel like i’m back there—not again.” 

“you won’t,” she assured you. 

“you have the power to change, and you did. you can still get nice things, you deserve that since you work hard on the pitch with us– but maybe focus on less quantity and more quality? your childhood doesn’t have to dictate your future, y/n. believe me. you can have the nice things you still want.”

you nodded slowly, feeling a sense of warmth envelop you. 

“maybe that’s true,” you whispered.

“you don’t need to hide your past either, y/n. many of us did not grow up with a lot of dinero either. aitana’s family suffered while she was growing up, same situation as you but you didn't have the politics involved.” alexia lightly smiled, hoping to see you less scared of the conversation. 

“oh,” you said, leaning your arms against the kitchen island across alexia sitting on your stool. 

“i am just saying that all of this stuff and the idea of buying it will only last temporarily. you do not want to spend so much money to the point where you’re broke. i have an idea on how much your salary is at barca and with adidas, its a lot and you should not blow through that much money in one month.” alexia and you giggled at her last sentence. 

“i know, and i’m sorry.” 

“don’t apologize to me, you didn’t do anything to me. i’ll set you up with the financial advisor i have and we will put you on the right track okay? maybe a therapist at barca too?” 

“anything you think will help me, capi.” you leaned against alexia for a hug. 

masterlist

[lover-of-mine]

I gotta speak my truth: Lou is an IDIOT. He could've left a beloved side character who helped major movements on a very anticipated storyline on the most popular scripted show on the us right now if he had just shut the fuck up. If he hadn't seen the way people were interacting with him on Twitter back in April as a way to get money and some instant gratification recognition and jumped on cameo to hijack the story and pretend he had creative power and was anything other than another one of Buck's love interest who happened to be a guy, Tommy might've ended up showing up after the breakup. He's a first responder, it would be so easy to make them cross paths. Instead the guy decided to act as if he is more important than he is, milk his fans for all they are worth, and spit on the show's face on the way out as if playing the victim is going to get him a new contract. He could've used this to boost his career and instead he keeps shooting it on the foot because his ego is more important. He's a pr nightmare and he's been a pr nightmare from the get go and now we're somehow in overtime because he just can't stop. This is insane behavior. You think Tim Minear, Ryan Murphy, abc as whole, every Disney company, will want to work with a guy who only has his father's name to fall back on, is a perpetual guest star, doesn't have the talent to back up his ego and somehow can't stop talking shit about the plotline he knew he was brought in to play? His 704 interviews talk about being an entry level relationship, talk about Tommy being a stepping stone for Buck to "work out the kinks before Eddie", talk about how it was supposed to be Eddie so clearly the relationship hadn't been planned, and now he wants to talk about how he didn't see this coming? My man you filmed the breakup before filming the happy scenes from 805. There's no way in fucking hell you didn't know. There are contracts involved, he had to have known how many episodes he was supposed to be in. And playing the victim and saying Tim didn't consult with him and he didn't want this to happen is not gonna make anyone on the show be like "okay we need to bring this man back". Tim once named a villain over a fan who annoyed him. What the fuck do you think he's gonna do about a guest star on a power trip because he got 10 people paying him 5 dollars over and over for him to say what the want to hear and decided he's somehow now indispensable for the plot? It sure as fuck won't be bringing them back.

[zeninslut]

That's just my baby daddy

pregnant hcs with ya favs ( Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru)

AN: when I figure out how to make these posts actually look good its over for y'all fr. I hope y'all enjoy, comments and reblogs are appreciated guysss!

C. Kamo

husband choso who is beyond ecstatic when he finds out you’re pregnant because he wasn’t even sure he could give you a child, being ,you know, half curse and all

Husband choso who coddles you the whole pregnancy making sure you don’t lift a finger unless you truly want to and even then it still takes a little convincing. he can't keep his hands off you truly, always seeking your comfort. He puts your shoes on for you very early in the pregnancy and never falters. 

Husband choso and uncle yuji who fight while building the crib somehow making the crib in 3 different ways (all incorrect) before they finally get it together.

Husband choso and uncle yuji who talk to your unborn baby through the stomach. Both sides of their head attached to your belly. They talk to your baby girl for hours even when you fall asleep. Yuji is so excited for his big brother and choso is happy that his brother loves your baby almost as much as he does. 

Husband choso who has a sixth sense for your pregnancy needs. He wakes up minutes before you whine about a pregnancy craving, making you exactly want you want without you even asking. The both of you don’t know how he does it but you’re grateful nonetheless. 

Husband choso who thinks he could never love anyone more than you until you have his daughter

Husband choso who is absolutely wrapped around his daughters finger in the moment she opens her beautiful brown orbs to stare at him for the first time. He feels his heart swell with tenderness and pride as he looks at his own eyes in female form 

Husband choso who thanks and praises you as soon as he hears the strong cry of his daughter

Husband choso who follows you and his daughter like a lost puppy. Not wanting to be without you and especially not her 

Husband choso who is actually really great at changing diapers despite having no experience. Changing his mini me’s diapers with speed and efficiency. Because of this, he is constantly on diaper duty, which he always complains about but secretly he doesnt mind. He loves cooing and playing with her hands after. 

Husband choso who kisses your daughters feet and hands just absolutely in awe that such a wonderful creation is his. His heart flutters every time he hears her laugh 

Husband choso who definitely cries when he hears the cries of your daughter getting her ears pierced 

T. Fushiguro

Husband toji who was scared shitless when you told him you were pregnant. The shitess quickly turned into him shitting himself when he finds out that its a girl.

Husband toji who truly questions who wears the pants in this relationship at this point in time because your hormones have been off the roof. He knew you could be a brat but this new found attitude of yours is truly unmatched. He finds himself listening the first time (surprisingly) when you ask him to do something, for fear of getting his ear yanked down to your height and screamed in.

Husband toji who loves the fire in your eyes as the pregnancy progresses.

Husband toji who doesn’t protest but instead hides some chuckles as you chew shiu out for constantly bring him new assignments knowing damn well he has a pregnant wife at home and he can’t say no to money 

Husband toji who shares a beer with uncle shiu as shiu tells him what its like to be a girl dad and live in a house full of exclusively girls.

Husband toji who doesnt think much about how fast and huge your belly is growing at only 4 months in.

Husband toji who gets a little nervous when shiu’s wife tells him that you’re getting huge and she only was that big when she was having twins. He shakes it off though, he knows he’s a big man so it would only make sense right… RIGHT???

husband toji who thinks he might faint when a routine ultrasound turns into the sonographer saying 

“Hmm I must have missed this the last time but it appears you’re expecting twins! Congratulations!!” 

Husband toji who fears being a terrible father especially to girls. You reassure him that he is not what he grew up with. He’s more than deserving of a happy family and that he will make a great dad. 

Husband toji who keeps his hand on your belly at all times especially in public. It’s his effort to shield you and his kids from any harm 

Husband toji who makes it a point to occasionally hold you from the back and lift your stomach to take the weight of your back. He figures its the least he could do especially because of his strength. It’s moments like this where you know he would make a great girl dad. 

Husband toji who knows he’s a wanted man so he doubled on security and tripled in it on days when he isn’t around. Even getting a couple guard dogs just in case. He can’t take any chances on losing the best things that have ever happened to him, he already lost so much 

Husband toji who sends shiu and his wife to the house for you on days where his target is being particularly hard to find. 

Husband toji who has to be stopped by shiu from punching all the men in the room for peaking at his wife in such a vulnerable state during labor

Husband toji who’s fears of being a bad father dissipate when he holds his girls for the first time. It’s all clear to him now, he will lay his life down for you and his daughters. He vows would do whatever it takes to make sure you guys are safe and taken care of. 

Husband toji who now wears a baby wrap always opting to carry one of the twins 

G. Suguru

Husband suguru who genuinely isn’t surprised when you tell him you’re pregnant but he sure does put on one hell of an act. It was only a matter of time before the birth control you used was completely out of your system as he switched out each individual pill with a sugar pill and precisely packaged it back to normal 

Husband suguru whose heart swells with pride when you start showing.

Husband suguru who wont stop cuddling you and making you the little spoon. He claims its good for the baby and for no other reason but everyone knows its for him

Husband suguru who insists on making sure you have a midwife or doula who stays with you on days that he can’t. They are in constant communication about you and your pregnancy. Personally, the doula thinks he bothers you too much but you think its just right and that’s all that matters. You could never get enough of your loving husband 

Husband suguru  who sees the pregnancy glow on you get stronger and stronger. It’s like his kryptonite. He could never resist you in the first place but it just makes it so much harder to get work done when his beautiful round pregnant wife is sitting on the couch in his clothes reading a book on maternity. 

Husband suguru and uncle satoru who take turns singing to your belly while you laugh in glee. You never minded how close satoru was to your unborn baby, it was only expected. Suguru and satoru were like salt and pepper (literally)

Husband suguru who makes the most exquisite love to you throughout the whole pregnancy. He makes sure you know you are loved and cherished in any form you are in.

Husband suguru who has thoughts about blowing the whole hospital up if you experience so much as a smudge of malpractice. It’s his wife and kid for god’s sake. 

Husband suguru who because of this makes sure he has a team of trusted maternity doctors in the house while you have a water birth. He sits next to the tub with you praising you for all that you’ve been through and what you’re about to go through.

Husband suguru who kind of hates himself when he sees that the pain youre in is immense. It brings tears to his eyes even when you tell him that it’s okay and that you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He still wants to drive a stake through his heart for “hurting” his precious wife.  

Husband suguru who quite surprised when he sees that his daughter has his beautiful violet eyes. 

Husband suguru who falls completely in love with you again when he sees his daughter latching onto your breast for the first time. He loves the motherly look on you.

Husband suguru who loves having you on his lap and his daughter in yours. 

Husband suguru who’s heart has been stolen by his beautiful daughter when he watches her smile and wrap her small wrap around his index finger. 

Husband suguru who is pleasantly surprised when he reaches under the bathroom counter to see your abandoned pack of pseudo birth control hiding in the corner. You didn’t touch it for months leading up to the day you said you were pregnant. he knows you wanted him to see it. He smirks to himself knowing that he has truly met his match and that you are nothing short of the one for him

[oneluckydumbass]

Sabotage || chapter one

pairing: Charles x reader x Max (based on votes, but I might post another poll to confirm after a few chapters)

summary: You have a new boyfriend, and after it becomes clear attending race weekends isn’t so important to you anymore, your best friend and your “it’s complicated” person join forces to sabotage your relationship.

…

Rolling your eyes, you pick up a pillow and try to playfully hit your friend with it, but your effort is futile, because he catches it with ease, then tosses it on the floor next to the bed. He’s shamelessly laughing at you, but then he turns on his stomach and buries his face into the space between your shoulder and his pillow.

You’ve been stuck together like glue for over a decade, spending an unhealthy amount of time together, so the fact you’re lying in bed next to each other doesn’t mean much to either of you. He’s your best friend and nothing more, no matter what the press and fans say.

Just when you think he drifted back to sleep, a muffled voice cuts through the silence of the room. “Did you say something?” you ask with a laugh as you tussle his already messy hair.

A groan follows your words, and he lifts his head a little. “I said, I’m starving,” he repeats, this time letting you hear him loud and clear.

A small smile creeps on your lips as you watch him, taking a good look at those green eyes that are blinking drowsily at you. He’s hungover, so this means he needs his usual breakfast to get through the morning, and you’re more than happy to make it for him as usual. When the roles are reversed and it’s you who needs it, he does the same for you, so you don’t hesitate to push the blanket to the side and slip out of bed.

Well, you try to get out of bed, because Charles quickly wraps an arm around you to keep you in place. He digs his thumb into the plush flesh of your hips as his hand moves a little lower on your body. The look he gives you makes it clear he’s not gonna let you get away from him anytime soon despite the hunger that makes his stomach growl.

As soon as you cover yourself again with the blanket, he lets his head fall back on the pillow, being close enough to place a kiss on your shoulder before letting out a soft sigh of relief. Winning his home grand prix must have been one hell of a high, coming down from that and trying to sober up after the party the night before must be quite a challenge for today.

His breathing soon changes, it becomes slower, more even, and you think it might be time to go back to sleep yourself to recharge your batteries enough to function today. Just when you reach the edge of sleep, though, you hear your friend mutter something again, and he only repeats it a little louder when you let out a questioning hum.

“I’m gonna ask Arthur to bring us breakfast. He has nothing better to do today and he has a key,” he tells you the plan, earning a disapproving sigh from you. “What? He’s my little brother, this is the least he can do.”

There’s an edge to his rough, raspy voice that gives the statement the kind of finality you just can’t fight against. So you nod and close your eyes again, focusing on the sounds of him moving to get his phone and type a message to his brother. Once he’s done, he lies on his back and lets out a long sigh.

“I asked him to go to that little bistro where we eat and told him to ask for our usual, if that’s okay,” he says.

You open your eyes a little to look at him, a smile already playing on your lips as you turn on your side. “That’s quite a detour for him,” you note.

Charles lets out a huff. “I told him to bring himself something too so we can eat together,” he tells you, then he turns to you with that usual, boyish smile of his. “I transferred more than enough money, so yeah, he gets a little extra for the delivery and a hefty tip.”

After a nod, you prop on your elbow and watch him without saying a word. He hums to urge you to speak up, but before you could talk, your phone on the nightstand starts to ring. When you look at the screen, you can’t fight back the wide grin that wants to creep on your face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your friend.

“I need to take this,” you tell him, sort of as an apology for crawling out of bed to leave the room.

To be honest, you didn’t expect him to call. The whole time you thought the buzzing environment of the paddock made him say those things, but here you are, seeing his name flash on the screen so soon after race day. Shane is handsome, and nice, and he’s as far from the world of motorsports as possible.

A breath of fresh air, really.

He’s a fashion photographer, and he only attended the grand prix because he had to take some photos of Lewis and George, so the team thought it would be nice to give him a pass for the weekend. There he bumped into you, started a conversation, sat down for lunch with you, then asked for your number before going home. And now he wants a date, much to your surprise.

When he suggests meeting in New Zealand, you begin to talk about his new gig there, and you get so lost in the conversation that you only notice Arthur when he puts the boxes next to you in the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. It doesn’t seem to bother him that you’re on the phone with someone, because he kisses you on the cheek, then waits for you to tell him where his brother can be found.

Several minutes later you hear Charles ask “what” in the other room, which is followed by the sound of someone running towards you. You watch as he skids into the kitchen, then he takes the phone from your hand and holds up a finger to stop you from talking. Arthur massages the bridge of his nose in the background, while you’re trying to process what just happened.

“Are you really ditching her for some model? Come on, dude, I thought we—” Suddenly he stops talking and his eyes widen from surprise. “Oh, who am I speaking to?”

You watch as he tries to explain himself, looking embarrassed as he should be, and you occasionally glance over at Arthur who can barely hold back his emotions. Once your friend hands you the phone with a guilty expression on his face, you can’t help but feel sorry for him, especially after his little brother starts to point a finger at him as he erupts in laughter.

After saying goodbye to Shane, you end the call and watch as Charles gives his brother a disapproving look before playfully slapping his arm. “That’s not funny, I thought she was talking to Max again,” he says.

Here you go again. “Even if I was talking to him, it would be none of your business,” you warn him with an angry look in your eyes.

You’ve been over this so many times during your entire friendship, but he still feels like he has to protect you from him, as if Max is some vicious predator that wants to eat you alive. The two of you occasionally try to make this work between you, but more often than not it remains a friends with benefits setup. It seems like neither of you is ready to be in a committed relationship.

Your brother once hinted at the Dutchman’s annoyance whenever it came to your close friendship with his rival. For some reason he sees Charles as a threat, not only on the track, but in your relationship too. And given his friendship with your brother, you get these comments about your friend from two people, which makes it even more annoying.

And now you have to deal with the Monegasque’s overprotective personality too, which tells you this breakfast won’t be accompanied by carefree conversations between the three of you. You know you have to tell him that there is someone new in your life, and can only hope he will be a little relieved that it’s not who he thought it was.

While Arthur sits on a barstool next to the kitchen island, you and Charles bring some plates and silverware for the food, and you three dig in without hesitation. Even though your focus is on Arthur who’s talking about the party the night before, you can still feel your best friend’s eyes on you, burning a hole into your skull as he watches you.

“So who’s the guy?” he suddenly asks. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “You never told me you’re seeing someone.”

Letting out a sigh, you put down the fork and lean back a little. “I only met him on Saturday. This was the first time he called, there’s nothing to tell yet,” you reply, giving him a look that says enough of the questions.

“Yet? You mean you’ll meet him?” he wonders, completely ignoring your silent request.

“And what if I will?”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see the way Arthur winces and slips off the chair with his orange juice in hand, then moves to the living room to give you some space to talk. You and Charles only stare at each other for a while, both of you waiting for the other to say something, but deep down you know it’s him who has some explaining to do.

Since he doesn’t speak up, you return your attention to your breakfast and take a bite with your eyes still fixed on your friend. In the end, he lets out a sigh and reaches out to put a hand on your wrist. “Look, I’m just worried, okay? You barely know the guy,” he tells you.

Rolling your eyes at him, you end up shaking your head. “Meeting him will help me get to know him. In case you’ve forgotten, this is how dating works.” He licks his lips, a nervous expression visible on his face as he picks at his own food with the fork. You have no idea what could possibly be wrong with him, but you feel like telling him the facts and nothing more could be helpful. “We’ll have a few days for that next weekend in New Zealand.”

This catches his attention, because he looks back up at you. “But that’s the next race weekend,” he says, sounding surprised that you dared to plan something for the same time. When you give him a questioning look, he takes a deep breath. “You’ve never missed a race, I just… I don’t know. It would be weird to be there without you,” he replies.

“You can’t expect me to put my life on hold because you want me to be there at every race weekend. I gave up enough already, I’m not gonna waste more chances. I like this guy.”

“Does he have a name?”

Your eyes narrow because you know exactly what this is about. “You want to do some research,” you state with an annoyed sigh.

Charles shrugs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes before giving him the guy’s name, although he doesn’t seem to recognize it, so you explain what he does for a living. Those mesmerizing green eyes of his are mirroring the concentration he needs to remember every detail, and you can’t help but wonder why he finds this so interesting.

After all, you never say a word about his girlfriends, you never pry for more information, you just go with the flow and let him have his fun. It’s usually Max who’s more interested in who you’re dating, but even he restrains himself before he would interfere. At least the two of you have history, there’s a logical explanation for his reaction.

But this? Now, this you can’t put a finger on.

“Guys, we have a problem,” you hear Arthur’s voice before he appears in the kitchen, his phone held up. You exchange a confused look with Charles, then your eyes move to his little brother. “Mom wants me to have dinner with her.”

“Why’s that a problem?” Charles asks.

After a gulp, Arthur clears his throat and sits back on the barstool he previously occupied. “Um, well, she might have found out about my girlfriend, and now she wants to meet her,” he replies with an awkward smile.

His brother flashes a wide grin at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about her? What is she like? And what’s her name? Where did you even meet her?”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you reach out to take his hand and squeeze it gently. “I guess this is exactly why he didn’t say a word. No one needs the Spanish Inquisition.” When Charles opens his mouth to protest, you give him a warning look. “This is exactly what you did with me just a few minutes ago. Give him the chance to decide when he’s ready to talk about her.”

Arthur flashes a thankful smile at you, then takes a deep breath and begins to tell you about the girl. He really likes her, and this big, stupid smile on his face tells you that he really just wanted to protect her from this madness. When you look over at Charles, you notice how his expression softened, and in the end he assures his brother that he will talk to their mother and ask her to be patient.

Maybe there’s still hope for him after all.

[mrsriddlenott]

I’m writing it right now and I think it’s gonna be kinda long😚🤭

I am having too much fun with it to wait so here is a sneak peak ��

~~~~

“Why do you always insist on working on my car when I bring it over?” You ask, laughing as you approach JJ where he hunches under the hood of your truck. His eyes linger on your short shorts, rising to your exposed midriff from your crop top with a smile before looking up to you, one eye squinted in the sun.

“Because I can’t let you go to some sleezy mechanic who will cheat you outta money or try to get a lil something extra from my girl.” JJ lets his eyes fall back to your exposed thighs, licking his lips before finding your eyes again, “Especially since you look so fuckin’ good.”

“The only mechanic I’d give somethin’ extra to as payment is you Jay.” You laugh, eyeing his greasy fingers as they work on your car with a content sigh at the view of your sweaty, greasy best friend.

“Oh really?” He asks, a teasing glint in his eyes when they meet yours “Well y’see this right here?” JJ says as he points out a suspicious looking piece of metal under the hood of your car, knowing full well you have no clue what’s wrong with it, “That would cost a lot to fix if you weren’t so beautiful Mama.” JJ says with a dramatic hiss, smiling to you as you pick up on what he was doing.

“Oh no,” You exaggeratae false worry into your tone, putting a hand in your back pocket and leaning forward to push your chest towards his eyeline, “but I don’t have any money Sir.”

~~~~

I am too invested in Bsf JJ now I guess bc I just keep thinking of more to add to this one😌😊

~Teach Me, Please~

Bsf!JJ Maybank x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.

{masterlist}

————

“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has, I would be flirting non-stop if I was with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”

“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life and JJ gets around a lot he has plenty of better options. Hell he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”

You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow pogues, and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.

You knew they didn’t mind, they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could but it was pointless, you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as them. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.

And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch infront of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he heard you properly.

“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilt beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.

“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.

“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.

JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him but over the years he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for Jonh B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first, he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.

“On you Jay, come on don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this was ethical. JB would surely frown upon this and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.

“Well I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.

“But I asked you to show me JJ, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.

And his resolve snapped.

He tossed his half full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau making the way to the bedroom he made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.

“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not.”

Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.

“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”

“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”

“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.

“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.

“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.

“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.

“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”

Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.

“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.

“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”

Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.

“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.

“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.

“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.

“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.

“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”

“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”

“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.

“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.

“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”

“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”

“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.

“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.

“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.

JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.

JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.

“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.

“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“

A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”

“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”

Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.

He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.

“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.

“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.

“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.

“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.

“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”

“Forever.”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.

“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”

JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.

“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.

“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.

“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.

His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.

“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.

The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.

JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.

——————

I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?

Another Lesson? (Coming Soon)

[gothsoyl]

vampire!rio vidal x reader

✧. ┊ rio has been a vampire for hundreds of years, if not thousands. she has seen nations rise to the top and burn down in search of their own greatness. she has seen the deaths of billions of people, with the blood of millions on her hands. she stopped being surprised by anything, but... then you appeared.

✧. ┊ initially, rio didn't think too much – you were just another victim, just a piece of meat for her. she killed so many young girls that she stopped feeling anything, but there was something strange about you. probably your desire to serve.

✧. ┊ you joined the rio’s household as a maid – her palace was huge, but it was so empty and cold that you felt uneasy at first, and memories of all the horrors that people told in the streets, when it came to the vidal estate, began to pop up in your head.

✧. ┊ you needed money and a roof over your head, so you weren't picky. the manor was gloomy, except for the fireplace in the living room, and the furniture was covered with dust. of the inhabitants of the house, there were only two old women, servants, and an equally old watchman.

✧. ┊ you saw the owner of the estate, rio vidal herself, only after a week of your stay here. she was pale and tired – it seemed a little more and she would collapse from dehydration. you immediately approached her with a desire to help, but instead she pinned you against the wall and clung to your neck with sharp fangs. you wanted to scream, and tears immediately sprang from your eyes, but not a single sound left your lips. you froze, and then completely lost consciousness.

✧. ┊ you woke up in the living room. head was buzzing and body was in pain. you couldn't really move your neck, but you noticed her right away – lady vidal was sitting in a chair opposite you, lazily turning the pages of a book. she no longer looked so painfully pale, and there was a sly smile on her lips.

✧. ┊ “you don't have to get up – I'm going to have a second dinner now,” her voice sounds like honey and you don’t argue. just lay there and stare at her as if fascinated. she's threatening to kill you, so why not try to escape?

“do you rarely eat?” you don't know why you asked, but you've clearly attracted attention to yourself. lady vidal immediately looks at you, and her eyebrows knitted, “I can help.”

“why do I need your help, child?” a logical question. the woman slowly gets up from her chair and takes a few steps towards you, stopping only in front of the sofa on which you’re lying.

“you’re starving. give me a day and I'll find food for you,” your voice sounds even quieter than before, and your neck hurts unpleasantly from any sound.

“and what do you want in return?” bingo. lady vidal is interested, or is having a dialogue with her dinner out of boredom.

“a place to stay”

✧. ┊ you kept your promise – once every couple of days you started bringing a human to the estate, listened for ten minutes as they kicked under the onslaught of rio and entered the room to clean up the mess. you helped kill people, so why didn't it bother you in any way?

✧. ┊ but it also happened that rio invited you to her place, and you didn't hesitate – you gave her a taste of your blood. it still hurt, but rio found a way out. her hands slide over your bare body, her lips press against your neck, and soft moans escape from your mouth. her fingers persistently stroke your crotch before entering inside, pushing the warm walls apart with a squishing sound. and only when your breath catches from the sensations of her finger, which moves so rhythmically inside, she bites your neck. your back arches and you hug her, scratching her back and exposing her neck even more. she growls back, burying her fingers deeper.

✦✧✦✧ it's worth helping with the murders for that ✦✧✦✧

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

THIS BLOG IS 😍🫣😊😳

can we please get James (modern or 10s) x younger reader? They are arguing and she goes “don’t tell me what to do you’re not my father” and he goes “I’m not your father, but I’m your daddy” and completely breaks her in bed??? Like she came so many times last night that in the morning she can’t feel her legs and her whole body aches and he brings her coffee to bed and asking if she learned how to behave???

I’m such a whore for him 🤤🫣😳

Warnings: smut, use of toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink, angst, age gap, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

All you wanted was to go on a little trip with some of your friends, James asked if he could go and you said no because it was supposed to just be you and your friends.

After that he got all upset over it, saying he wasn’t paying for shit. He liked paying for you, spoiling you, it didn’t often cross his mind that you made your own money and had some to set aside to pay for yourself.

He just wanted to be with you and didn’t see why it was such a big deal that he’d be coming along, your friends liked him well enough, didn’t they?

Sure, James was a few years -or decades- older than you, but you loved him and he loved you more than anything! Why wouldn’t they see that?

“Oh, they’d love it if I just paid for it though, huh?” He said, arms crossed over his chest as he sat on the couch, refusing to look at you and instead glaring bullet holes into the TV.

You groaned loudly, rolling your eyes. “No! They don’t want you to pay for anything! You can’t just buy people off!” He chewed his cheek at that remark. “They just want to spend time with me!”

“And they can’t do that with me there?” You threw a pillow at him, knocking him in the head and he finally turned to look at you.

“I don’t need you there because you’re not my fucking dad!” You could see something swirling in his eyes, something more than anger or frustration.

James stood up slowly and made his way over to you in a few determined strides. He pointed a finger to you, pushing on your chest as he towered over you. “I might not be your dad but you know damn well I’m your fucking daddy.” You swallowed thickly, already feeling yourself getting wet as his blue eyes bore into you.

He lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder effortlessly, giving your ass a firm smack. You bit down on your lip, refusing to make a sound. The fight wasn’t over, just on pause -if that’s what James wanted.

As he carried you he pulled off your clothes, dragging your jeans down your thighs along with your panties so he had free access to your needy cunt, easily taking two of his fingers already. He wasn’t going easy on you, fingers moving faster, only pulling out to smack your ass every few seconds because you were squirming too much.

He tossed you onto the bed, mind already fuzzy and a knot already building in your gut. He stared down at you a moment, thinking about how to punish you.

“C’mere.” He said, patting the edge of the bed. You crawled down and flipped over onto your back, looking up at him eagerly.

He went to the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a massage wand. He smiled as he brought it over to you and used your pants to hold it up right against your clit, a makeshift torture device when he hit the button and it started whirring against your bundle of nerves.

You were a whining mess in minutes, James hovering over you, pinching and flicking your perky nipples. You couldn’t take it much longer, already feeling the knot coming undone, James just smiled down at you as you twitched and squirmed against the toy. “Jamie! Jamie, m’so close, I can’t-can’t-!”

“Can’t cum without daddy.” He finished for you. “you can have your vacation but you know it won’t be the same without me, sweetheart.” You whined loudly, eyes rolling back as you came. He didn’t touch the toy, letting it continue and overstimulate you.

He got up and undid his jeans, pulling them down enough for his hard cock to hit you in the face. A wicked grin came to his face as he tapped your with his leaky tip, smearing pre-cum over your cheeks before pushing past your lips.

You gagged around him, borderline choking on his length as he thrusted mercilessly down your throat, groaning at the sensation. You could feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge again, tears brimming your eyes from it all.

You held the sheets in a death grip, struggling to stay still for him as another wave of pleasure washed over you.

The vibrator was starting to hurt, constant buzzing between your legs bringing more out of you, with every high they just came quicker and harder, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

James was still using your mouth like a fleshlight, not caring if you were crying or in pain. He saw the drool dribbling over your jaw, mixing with his pre. He was twitching down your throat, pulsing before he finally came with a few loud groans, his head falling back in ecstasy.

He pulled out of you. You coughed, a few sobs ripping from your throat. “Please!” You cried, voice hoarse, it hurt to say anything. “Make it stop, make it stop!” James smiled down at you, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Aw, my poor baby hurts?” He asked in a mocking tone. “Needs daddy to make her feel better?”

You nodded. “Please, daddy, please! It-it hurts, it hurts, daddy!” He moved to sit on the bed, finally turning the toy off and taking it away from you.

He helped you out of your clothes, they were sticking uncomfortably to your sweaty skin, body twitching, aching and shuddering at every feather light touch. James didn’t care, he had his plans and seeing how you were reacting to his gentleness in the moment only got him more excited for when he got to be rough again.

Your chest rose and fell hard, heaving as you continued to cry, unable to stop the sobs slipping past your lips. James got up and started taking off his own clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing the pudge of his stomach, pudge he always seemed self-conscious of but you loved. You loved laying your head on his stomach, or grinding down on it like a pillow, but it was better because it was James guiding your hips, moving you farther down until you were riding his dick and throwing your head back.

He dropped his jeans completely along with his boxers and crawled back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around so your head was on the pillows and he was hovering over you again, pinning you down.

“How are you, darling?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you. “Feeling alright? S’not too much?” He was concerned for your well-being, but if he kept asking it would ruin the whole mood, he’d ask you sporadically to make sure you were still enjoying it, he’d listen if you told him to stop and he needed you to know that.

You sniffled and nodded. “M’good.” You said simply.

“Good.” He said, kissing you again. “Because you need to learn a lesson, don’t you?” He asked, not waiting for a response before he pushed into you, wasting no time as he pistoned his hips into yours just as he had done with your mouth.

Your moans and cries bounced off the walls, back arching as you came again, let’s shaking on either side of him. His words echoed through your mind as he grunted in your ears, nothing but degrading comments, “you dumb fucking slut, you fucking love this, don’t you? Love being used by daddy, love being fucked stupid, you’ve got nothing going through that thick fucking skull of yours, got nothing but daddy, huh?” And all you could do was agree.

The room was dark, curtains pulled over the windows to block the light from coming through. Everywhere was a dull ache and you couldn’t move your legs no matter how hard you tried, not that you were really trying.

You weren’t lying in yours and James’s bed, he carried you to a guest room because there was no way he was letting you sleep in that fill, sheets soaked and stained. He tossed them in the washer when he woke up but he didn’t think it would do much and already had a garbage bag ready for them, planning to get another set later that day.

The door creaked open and he came in with a tray of food, smiling when he saw you were awake. “Morning, darling, sleep good?” He asked as he sat down beside you, setting the tray on your lap after helping you to sit up.

You nodded, looking over the selection of a yogurt bowl, granola and fruits mixed in it, a cup of coffee just the way you like it on side, a banana cut up in a bowl drizzled with chocolate. “Slept good.” You said, voice raw.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you and held you tighter to his side. “I’m glad, sweetheart, ‘cause that’s how I’m gonna get you to sleep every night until you leave.”

You looked up at him. “Jamie, you can’t do that, I won’t be able to move.”

He smiled proudly down at you. “Well, I suppose I could be more reasonable, if you let me come with you.” He leaned down closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I just want to fuck you in our hotel room, on the balcony, take you somewhere pretty off tour.”

It took a lot of convincing for your friends to let you bring him along, they didn’t like him and they didn’t like that he was this protective of you. They didn’t like how much older he was than you, they didn’t like anything about this situation and it was evident. Every day of your trip you were seeing more and more how your friends were pushing away from you, it hurt but James was there every night to comfort you.

He was ruining you, in a few ways, but he made it better. At least, he made it seem that way.

[secriden]

THK's Fadel is such a character of contradictions and curiosities:

He's so casual about the assassination stuff: look at the careless, almost silly way the guns are 'disguised'; the nonchalant way he's carrying himself right before he kills.

But then look at the precision and care he's taking while prepping tomatoes for his cover job. The way he leans down to salt the meat for his burger - he's taking it incredibly seriously.

He takes the time to chide Style about road safety even whilst trying desperately to get away as soon as possible because he literally has murder evidence in his car.

The whole assassin thing is a family business that has "ethical reasons", but is this a cause he has chosen, genuinely, for himself...

...or is it just what he tells himself to make it easier to keep living this life because he knows there's no escape?

Was this a lesson learned in theory from their mother, or from painful experience? Who hurt you, baby boy? Could it be related to the (knife?) wound on his chest (heart)?

For someone who supposedly just wants to get rid of Style, he sure lets Style get close and deliberately gets very handsy with him. Not to mention it was Fadel that sought Style out first after their initial encounter. Was Style's the only auto shop he could go to? I'd assume money isn't actually an issue for them.

I love that the show makes it clear that he loves Bison and is genuinely worried for him. The show sets up Bison to be too trusting but also naive and impulsive (Bringing a loaded gun to karaoke? Really, Bison?), so Fadel's worry and protectiveness may well be warranted. And even then, for all of Fadel's strictness, he gives in to Bison a lot and the way Bison speaks in that whiney pleading tone hints that he knows he's got his older brother wrapped around his finger. He's Katherina, but they're signposting why.

He fascinates me on so many levels and I can't wait to learn more about him. <3

[dresshistorynerd]

His family owned the arsenic mine and he divested his interest in it eventually, though of course profiting off of it was certainly a hypocrisy he engaged in for several years even after becoming a socialist. I can't really ask much more than he should have done it sooner, since he could hardly decide how his father had made his fortune. I agree that his continued denial of arsenic poisoning was insane, but his factory did stop using arsenic in 1879, 6 years before he send that letter. And he didn't use the other poisonous dyes that were used frequently at the time. I'm sure his position on arsenic specifically was influenced by his family's fortune coming from arsenic mine and the need to be defensive about it. My point was rather that there has been no debate at all past many years weather viscose method is dangerous to workers or not and still it is used, even though the owners know and believe it's dangerous, which clearly he wouldn't have approved of. Overall his factory was reported to have good working conditions, much better than what was typical at the time.

I know he was a Victorian man and while I fully admit I very much enjoy his writing and work, I'm not hero worshiping him. I do have many criticisms for him, but surviving under capitalism in a way where he tries to make some positive impact is not one of them. I know every write up on him loves to paint him doing business as a hypocrisy and a point of criticism, but I find that very silly. He never became rich with his business, though it did most of the time bring him enough money to live a comfortable life (though there were times during which the business was not as great and he lived a less middle class life), because he despised commerce and did it enough in order to do arts in his own terms and survive. This whole criticism feels so much like that meme "you criticize society yet you live in society, curious, I'm very smart".

I would much rather criticize him for his racist attitudes. Even though he was anti-colonialist and opposed the British Empire and he didn't believe in inherent biological racial qualities, he did accept the premise that there were distinctions between races, he just thought those were caused by the living conditions of different peoples both environmental and the material conditions forced upon them. It's still racist. He was also clearly ignorant about many different cultures, especially non-white ones, and did sometimes engage in cultural supremacy. He also was part of feminist causes, but he very much did uphold very binary gender roles evident in the way he wrote about men and women, even as in some ways he tried to oppose them.

Edit: I took this comment in a way it wasn't intended, understanding now better the point, I can agree that it would have been better if I had brought up some of those valid criticisms too in the original post. For context, here's the additional exchange we had!

The Morrisian case against fast fashion

Today I discovered that H&M made a William Morris collection some years ago. The heath death of the universe can't come quickly enough. We can stop now. Satire is dead and we killed her.

It's not just the whole concept of H&M using William Morris' designs for their fast fashion which is insanity inducing, but also the critical response it garnered. Like sure, people did realize this is insane and there was a lot of think pieces about it at the time, but I read several of them and they all seem to still miss the point in spectacular way.

The basic premise of these think pieces go along the lines of: "Would William Morris spin in his grave with a speed of light because of the H&M collection of his designs? A difficult question indeed. William Morris was a complicated man. He wanted art to be affordable to everyone. Isn't H&M affordable? That kinda fits. Though probably he would have some concerns about H&M's practices."

On the surface - yes - but like in reality - fuck no. There's no nuance in this particular issue. He talked about many times what he though of the H&Ms of his time, the retailers selling poor quality industrially produced "fashionable" bullshit. We know exactly what he would have thought of H&M. Here's couple of quotes from his 1884 lecture "Art and Socialism", which makes it very clear.

"It would be an instructive day's work for any one of us who is strong enough to walk through two or three of the principal streets of London on a week-day, and take accurate note of everything in the shop windows which is embarrassing or superfluous to the daily life of a serious man. Nay, the most of these things no one, serious or unserious, wants at all; only a foolish habit makes even the lightest-minded of us suppose that he wants them, and to many people even of those who buy them they are obvious encumbrances to real work, thought and pleasure. But I beg you to think of the enormous mass of men who are occupied with this miserable trumpery, from the engineers who have had to make the machines for making them, down to the hapless clerks who sit day-long year after year in the horrible dens wherein the wholesale exchange of them is transacted, and the shopmen, who not daring to call their souls their own, retail them amidst numberless insults which they must not resent, to the idle public which doesn't want them but buys them to be bored by them and sick to death of them."

He is describing the birth of consumerism, which was taking form during his lifetime in the late Victorian Era, which fast fashion is the extreme logical conclusion of, and he fucking hated it. He specifically railed against endless consumerist products, which H&M is the perfect representation of. It was definitely not the art and beauty he believed everyone required and deserved. He makes the distinction often.

"Now if we are to have popular Art, or indeed Art of any kind, we must at once and for all be done with this luxury; it is the supplanter, the changeling of Art; so much so that by those who know of nothing better it has even been taken for Art, the divine solace of human labour, the romance of each day's hard practice of the difficult art of living."

"And here furthermore is at least a little sign whereby to distinguish between a rag of fashion and a work of Art: whereas the toys of fashion when the first gloss is worn off them do become obviously worthless even to the frivolous—a work of Art, be it ever so humble, is long lived; we never tire of it; as long as a scrap hangs together it is valuable and instructive to each new generation. All works of Art in short have the property of becoming venerable amidst decay: and reason good, for from the first there was a soul in them, the thought of man, which will be visible in them so long as the body exists in which they were implanted."

When he thought of popular Art he thought of the craftsmanship of the common people. The art people have made from useful everyday objects with skillful handicrafts. This is what he means by "divine solace of human labour". It's not reverence of Puritanical work ethic, on the contrary, it's the reverence of creation, of the earnest joy people feel when they get to express themselves through their creative pursuits. He certainly didn't believe in work for work's sake, work needed to be worthwhile and enjoyable. He summarized his own position on what labour should be thusly:

"It is right and necessary that all men should have work to do which shall be worth doing, and be of itself pleasant to do; and which should he done under such conditions as would make it neither over-wearisome nor over-anxious."

He urged his middle class audience to reject consumerism (the lecture was for a very much middle class atheist society):

"For I say again that in buying these things: 'Tis the lives of men you buy! Will you from mere folly and thoughtlessness make yourselves partakers of the guilt of those who compel their fellow men to labour uselessly?"

I think it's glaringly obvious H&M and fast fashion in general is what he would consider luxury. Rags of fashion that are just churned out and discarded without thought and produced by compelling people to labour uselessly. It's not popular art that's made by workers and craftsmen, who are able to express themselves through it. There's no agency for the abused workers in H&M's sweatshops, they are not expressing their joy of creation, they are simply labouring uselessly.

Morris didn't shame workers for buying affortable things even if they weren't Art with big A, because that's the problem he despised the whole economic system for, for taking away the popular Art from people, making it inaccessible, and selling back mass produced products with very little practical or aesthetic value. So I don't think he would have problem with people who can only afford fast fashion today. They are the victims of capitalism too, because Art has been taken away from them. But the idea that some of these think pieces had that perhaps the H&M's Morris collection can be good actually if you squint, that H&M has the capacity to bring the art and beauty Morris advocated for for the people, is level of stupidity that's hard to express in words.

Morris didn't believe anything made with exploited labour could be truly beautiful, truly art. In his 1879 lecture "The Art of the People" he put it like this:

"That thing which I understand by real art is the expression by man of his pleasure in labour."

The way I understand this, is that art is communication. Through it we communicate feelings, ideas and thoughts, that is it's purpose. So for that communication to work, for it to be imbued with message, the person making it needs to feel passion and love for it's creation. How can there be love and passion if the hands making the garment belong to a tired exploited worker who has no egency what so ever in their work and can only think about survival to the next day?

Beyond the fundamental exploitativeness of H&M and fast fashion, this collection would still get zero points on aesthetic values from Morris even with his own designs. Because the work itself was such an important part of art for Morris, good design was nothing without good craftsmanship. Good design in his mind was always relative and dependent on it's purpose.

"For everything made by man’s hands has a form, which must be either beautiful or ugly; beautiful if it is in accord with Nature, and helps her; ugly if it is discordant with Nature, and thwarts her; it cannot be indifferent." (The Lesser Arts, 1877)

Here when he says nature, he means the nature of the thing that is made - basically it's purpose and function - and the nature of the materials it's made from. Basically, the design must always be made to bring out the function of the art and the qualities of the material it's made from, not fight against them. This is because he believed handicrafts were uniquely suitable for expressing the love of creation, therefore superior labour, and to really bring out the qualities of the craftsmanship and enjoy the creative process, the design should be suitable for that craft. The other side, which was the joy of using and experiencing art, required the craft to be selected for the suitable purpose. Using poorly functioning furniture for example is not very enjoyable, nor is using clothing that's made from materials that are not suitable for the climactic conditions it's supposed to be used in.

H&M of course utterly fails in this. They use Morris' designs in fully unsuitable ways. They print patterns made for example for wall papers on poor quality fabrics with synthetics dyes they weren't made for. This line from one blog post I came across really got me: "Therefore, without cheapening the artistic value of Morris’ designs, H&M’s collection offers an unparalleled potential for accessibility to them." No. Fuck no. They do in fact cheapen Morris' designs in every single way possible. Literally this is atrocious.

Despite the popular depiction, Morris wasn't in fact against industrial machinery or industrial art even, or at least he wasn't once his views on art and politics matured. He did think technology was useful, but he thought the people should use industrial methods for the benefit of all, not be enslaved by the industrial machine.

"I have spoken of machinery being used freely for releasing people from the more mechanical and repulsive part of necessary labour; and I know that to some cultivated people, people of the artistic turn of mind, machinery is particularly distasteful, and they will be apt to say you will never get your surroundings pleasant so long as you are surrounded by machinery. I don't quite admit that; it is the allowing machines to be our masters and not our servants that so injures the beauty of life nowadays. In other words, it is the token of the terrible crime we have fallen into of using our control of the powers of Nature for the purpose of enslaving people, we care less meantime of how much happiness we rob their lives of." ("How we live and how we might live", 1887)

However, he thought that the designer should approach it the way they approached any craft, by designing for the strengths of the machine work.

"But if you have to design for machine-work, at least let your design show clearly what it is. Make it mechanical with a vengeance, at the same time as simple at possible. Don't try, for instance, to make a printed plate look like a hand-painted one: make it something which no one would try to do if he were painting by hand..." ("Art and the Beauty of the Earth", 1881)

He did use some machinery for fabric and wall paper printing, but he was very intentional about their use. Still his designs weren't made for the type of methods these modern H&M machinery uses and he did for example use natural dyes. Particularly insulting is that some of the H&M clothes are made from viscose, rayon made with viscose method. Viscose method is extremely toxic and is known to cause long term health consequences for the workers and the people in surrounding areas. This has been well proven knowledge for ages. William Morris' wall paper factory in the beginning used the typical method used at the time which involved arsenic, but once he learned this could pose risks for the workers, he changed the method. Many of the new synthetic dyes were toxic at the time, which is the major reason he so favoured natural dyes, known to not cause health issues for workers or pollute the environment.

The question many of these think pieces about the H&M Morris collection posed was, would Morris disapprove and should we care? The first part of that is very easy to answer. Yes. Of course Morris would disapprove. He is currently powering the whole of British isles with purely the kinetic energy his grave-spinning produces. Should we care though? If you care about Morris' art, if you want to see more of that kind of art in this world, you should care. Morris' art is not about the superficial qualities. Copying his designs and aesthetics and styles, will only lead to hollow imitations, that are exactly what he described the rags of fashion to be; as the shininess of novelty wears off they will reveal themselves to be soulless, useless and utterly empty. This collection is just that. To see more of the kind of art that makes you feel like his art makes you feel, not just something that reminds you of that feeling, you should focus more on the way the art is made and less on the specific aesthetics. If his vision of labour and art was realised, all art produced of course wouldn't be loved by every person, but all of it would be loved by someone, even if that someone was just the maker. And that would be more worthwhile than every single rag of fast fashion.

I will stop William-Morris-posting now and return to my thesis.

[toraoistired]

let's talk about project 2025 and smut.

bc I've seen some of my favorite authors already state they aren't writing any more smut due to the mere threat of project 2025 going into effect. And hey, I'm a simple person who likes to read abt sexy times.

pls read through all the way and share if ya like any of what i wrote here - i don't want panic to be spreading through the writers of tumblr/ao3 like wildfire unchecked.

qualifications: BA in political science focusing on domestic policy, activism and ethnic studies.

Part I - what is it?

project 2025 at its core is a roadmap. it was created by the Heritage Foundation (an extremely far right disgusting think tank), and plenty of people associated with the previous and incoming Trump presidency. its like 900 pages of alt-right, christian nationalist bullshit.

but its not uncommon.

think tanks like the Heritage Foundation often create roadmaps like this to plot out what they would most want to see in a future presidency or period of political control. it isn't even particular to right-wing think tanks; left wing ones do it too! the difference in this case is the magnitude and attention paid to the manifesto.

the heritage foundation is a vast organization with a lot of money, and has had a part in US politics for a long ass time now. because of this, what they say/do carries a bit more weight. combined with the fact that dems in the past election used project 2025 as a common refrain (instead of like, developing their own policy but whatevs), you get a general public who is aware of the buzzword "project 2025" but not knowledgeable about what it contains.

what it does actually include is certainly worrying, but among the new freaky shit is a ton of stuff that has been on the republican party's to do list since day one, like dismantling the department of education. just reading that seems really shocking, i know, but if you look back to when the department was created, you will find evidence of republicans trying desperately to dismantle it.

i find the media flurry around project 2025 to be a bit concerning, because while i understand dems wanting to show voters how dangerous this shit can be, its also made it into something far more important than it could actually be. as i stated earlier, these types of policy blueprints are extremely common among think tanks. its like their entire job!! and yes, this one is scarier and more visible than others, but it

a.) isn't the official policy of the incoming admin (and if you look at their actual policy statement, its very clear they don't rly have policies, so who knows what that's gonna look like)

b.) isn't united states federal law

Part II - what's it gonna look like?

i'm not gonna sit here and say you shouldn't be worried about project 2025, bc a lot of whats in it is freaky asf. but that freakiness is what (in my opinion) will be its primary challenge. since its so out there, the extreme right wing republicans are going to have to work their asses off to get the votes they need to pass these things.

which brings me to another point-- project 2025 is a whole list of proposals. its not like republicans can put forth one bill that has the entirety of project 2025 in it and pass it all at once. for a whole laundry list of reasons, that's not possible. the process of getting one bill passed through the house and senate is an excruciatingly long one, and doing this process for 900 pages worth of plans ain't gonna be easy.

i should mention that donald trump has yet to endorse the plan as his own, so there's the real possibility that he wont even want to implement any of the ideas included. i could 100% see him ignoring the entire plan because he doesn't like that someone else came up with it tbh. and while i don't believe he has never heard of the heritage foundation, as he has claimed in the past, i think it is important to note that there hasn't been any confirmation from him that project 2025 is his roadmap.

the plan includes rollbacks of rights for every minority group possible, restrictions on immigration, access to morning-after pills, restructuring of the federal government to allow for easier hiring and firing based on little/no evidence, etc. all in all, not great.

but again, project 2025 isn't united states federal law

Part III - what does it mean for fanfic authors?

the section that has the fanfic-consuming/creating world in a tizzy is the bit about outlawing pornography. this is a concerning policy propsal, but not because of possible fanfic bans. rather, bc project 2025 and the heritage foundation at large sees queerness as inherently and exclusively sexual.

"pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children" (The Heritage Foundation, p.5)

thus, if they ban pornography (with a definition that includes/focuses on queerness), they can effectively ban expressions of queerness in the united states.

that shit is scary. and while i never want to rely on foundational documents when the people interpreting those documents (court justices (esp those appointed by the previous and incoming trump admin)), i will hesitantly say that this is gonna be a tough sell. both from a constitutional standpoint, and from a broad base support standpoint.

for the first of the two points, arguing that the first amendment doesn't "apply" to something is always a slippery slope, and defending that point is extraordinarily difficult. obviously this isnt always the case, but especially relating to pornography and obscenity, proving that a work fails the Miller test (a three part test created in Miller v. California (1973) to determine if something is obscene or not) is, like, really hard (heh).*

while the miller test is precedent for specific cases that come up in the court system, if some version of the porn ban goes into effect, the US court system is going to be dealing with challenges from every state, every form of media, every fandom.

which brings me to the second point. broad base support.

while the headline about Grindr crashing in Milwaukee during the RNC wasn't true in 2024, republican events in previous have brought an influx in users to the area in which the events are held if ya know what i'm sayin👀

on a real note though, getting a pornography ban passed in the united states would be exceedingly hard (no pun intended). especially one that includes forms of media like written pornography, not just visual. in terms of feasibility, a ban on video pornography is incrementally more likely than one on all forms of pornography. arguments against porn are weak at best, and the anti-porn movement in the US (usually religious) has been trying, and failing, for decades to ban pornography. most content about porn bans also refers primarily to video-based porn, not written smut.

let's just say worst case scenario something like this does go into action. anything you've written before the law goes into action cannot be used as a way to prosecute you. that would be an example of ex post facto punishment, which is explicitly prohibited in the constitution and by court precedent.

*note: i'm not endorsing the way the US court precedents around porn/obscenity look, as they are another symptom of purity culture and anti-sex culture created in the US

Part IV - what do we do?

well, giving up before a bill has even been proposed ain't it. it makes me deeply sad to see so many writers saying they wont be writing smut anymore because of the vague possibility of this plan. not only does it make me sad, it makes me angry. because that means people have seen so much misinformation about what project 2025 is and how it works that they are too scared to do anything about it. let me repeat again.

project 2025 is not law in the united states of america, nor is it in the process of becoming so. act accordingly.

so go forth, write smut, be gay, do some shit to make the heritage foundation angry today. and don't give up before the battle has even started. bc that's how they win. and i know shit seems really scary, but community and mutual aid is how we are gonna make it through this, so do your due diligence and research what you're scared about! knowledge is power and you gotta wield that sh*t.

i'd like to end with a quote from Timothy Snyder, who everyone and their mother has been quoting recently, but i still think it has value.

"Do not obey in advance. Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do. Anticipatory obedience is a political tragedy." (Excerpted from On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder, 2017)

[Note - i have cited sources where appropriate, but this is also based on my (important to note, informed) opinion. please treat it as such, thank you]

[sweetheartsaku]

(BLLK) just say the word.

𝜗𝜚 MIKAGE REO: RANUNCULACEAE.

a/n: [fem!reader] OMGG exam szn is finally over gais i am free!! i still have so many tests to do tho🙁 AND YES the title is a keshi reference

when mikage reo has a crush on you, he’s the type of boy to use your initials as his math variables. you’re all he ever thinks about, ever since he’s been rotted by the sugars of your kindness and presence. you were like his first and last breeze of air mixed in with love and refreshments. he had been enchanted by your soul, knotting his head and heart with yours. you’re all he ever wants to be around, and you have unconsciously seeped into his life like blood into a white sheet. a love that just keeps leaking, changing its colour completely.

SAY THE WORD, AND I'LL BE YOURS

when mikage reo realises, he can’t help but stare at you lovingly. his eyes are glued to you focusing on your tutor work he had given you, your pencil rapidly yet gently moving across the paper. his eyes are so tender and earnest, staring at you like you had hung up the stars yourself. reo finds himself instinctively caressing a stray hair from your face, his violet eyes still endearingly gazing. instantly, a pink hue graces across his face as his eyes meet yours.

THE LOOK YOU'RE GIVING ME GIVES YOU AWAY

when mikage reo steals your heart, he’s the type of guy to take his time into untangling your silver necklace. the one he had gifted you on your 6th month anniversary, that glistens in the sun. it’s chains are pristine, yet tangled tight, just like the way he had found himself when he fell for you (and does everyday). he smiles at the thought as his tongue sticks out slightly in concentration, one of your favourite habits of his. as a tease, you like to kiss the spot his tongue is before he can pull away. he loves to feel your face close to his, because it feels like his soul is too. he takes the time to untangle your necklace with his initial on the simple charm, even before the date’s expensive booking, he is gentle in unstringing every weaved chain.

YOU FINALLY FOUND THE HIGH THAT YOU'VE BEEN CHASING

when mikage reo falls impossibly deeper, he calls you all the time. not texting, because he knows you won’t listen. reo will call to make sure you eat lunch. reo will call to make sure you have your medicine. reo will bring you your favourite beverage and makes sure to remind you to take a break. reo will do everything he can to take care of you, because to him, when you came into his life, time is definitely more expensive than money. reo will take the time to make sure you are well fed and rested. his favourite part though is when you’re apart. don’t get me wrong, he hates it, but when you’re calling him and quietly telling him you miss him, his heart pounds against his chest a little more. and yes, he lets out a boyish chuckle once you’ve fallen asleep.

ONLY ONE MORE CHOICE YOU GOT TO MAKE

when mikage reo who never forgives himself when you have your first fight. after 6 gracious years, he finds himself living the day he could never fathom. yes, he had forgotten to buy your favourite snack at the convenience store, and he says he swears he will never forgive himself. how could you ever love him again? is what runs through his mind as he curls up against the couch, knees on his chest not feeling privileged enough for a blanket, nor feeling privileged enough to lie down with you in the bed in the room nearby. till then you, realising your fiancé’s absence, cluelessly searching for him, you gasp softly as you find reo all small on the couch. you sit next to him, but he inches away. he can’t help but confess his sins, but it all melts away when you lightly giggle at his silly habits.

I NEED YOU TO TELL ME 'CAUSE I

when mikage reo gets to be held in your arms, he melts completely. he feels his body go putty, his eyelids struggling to stay open to stare at your stunningly sculpted features. his teeth feels like he’s rotting, and his heart aches with an abundance of love. reo nestles his head in the junction between your chin bottom of your neck, absorbing every molecule of love he can. there is nothing he would want more than to unwind, cozily tucked into the embrace of his most beloved, sweetheart, and future wife.

IN MY ARMS FOR A SECOND

when mikage reo finally has you for himself, his brows twitch at the sight of your gorgeous figure, walking down the aisle. tears brim at the bottom of his eyes as you smile at him, taking your last steps in front of him. glitter highlighting the apple of your cheeks, lashes fluttering through the brown mascara and the necklace he untangled 5 years ago dangling off your collarbone. there was not a single moment in the world he would trade for this one. he finally smiles through the tears that stream down his cheeks, sliding the silver ring across the hand that once wrote tutor worksheet answers. it glistens in the sun, he thinks, just like you do.

BABY, SAY THE WORD, AND I'LL BE YOURS

mikage reo’s breath hitches. this is where he is. he is currently playing with his one-year-old, her incoherent babbles filling the silence strung into the air. reo finds himself laying on his stomach on a soft carpet next to scattered toys and various oils and creams for his little version. everything about this surreal moment had all gathered together to grasp onto the base of his neck, clenching onto him as tight as they can, making a lump form in his throat. his little version gently pats his nose, confused why her dad suddenly stop activating. he can’t help but tenderly smile at her, swallowing the lump as he lets a tear fall. your one-year-old innocently wipes it away. she must’ve got her kindness from you. he smiles, because thats what made him fall for you in the first place.

now, your initials have changed. guess he’s gotta fix those math equations, huh?

JUST SAY THE WORD.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Hailee Steinfeld

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: Yall see what I did with that title?? Her song Starving? Hahahahaha me

Eddie had had one too many…okay, maybe 12 too many—but who was counting? The nice bartender loaded him into a Lyft with the only address he’d managed to babble out and sent him on his way. 

He’s lying across the backseat when the car stops, nearly sending him rolling off onto the floor but he manages to stay snuggled into the surprisingly clean upholstery. He can hear voices outside the car but he doesn’t care, he’s comfy. He’s nuzzling his face into his jacket/pillow when the door opens.

“Hey big guy,” You say sweetly, rubbing his thigh and Eddie perks up a little 

“Y/N?” He sits up and looks around slowly, first around the car, his entire head moving as he trails his eyes up your body.

“Yeah it’s me, you wanna come inside?” 

“Why are you at my house” He mumbles and you blink for a moment because you’re not at his house… he was sent to yours.

“Are you sure you have the right address?” you ask the man who volunteered to help Eddie get inside.

“Yup. Wouldn’t stop talking about you either” 

You managed to coax him out, and he fell right into “Jake’s”arms. You grabbed his feet, and you both carried him in and straight back to your bedroom. As soon as he’s hanging somewhat off the bed, you turned to Jake, panting lightly.

“Thanks so much” you reach for your purse “How much does he owe you?” 

“He can just pay from the app tomorrow, it’s fine. I’m just happy I could help”

“Well, you have to at least me tip you” You pull out your wallet and he shakes his head, putting his hands out as you both walk back to your front door.

“Nope, no way, I’m not accepting any money from a lady. Besides, you’re going to have your hands full tonight, I can already tell. You’re gonna want him to tip you” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’ll see!” 

You watch as he gives you a wave and drives off, okay… whatever that meant. 

You walk back to the bedroom and Eddie is standing… sort of. He’s staring at the mirror in front of him, an irritated glare on his face.

“Eddie? You okay?” You ask cautiously and he turns to you.

“Do you always have men over?” He scoffs as he eyes the mirror up and down. You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a breath. 

“Eddie that’s a mirror. Why don’t you get back in bed huh? I can bring you some water.” 

“I’m not thirsty” He’s pouting, and you have to bite your lip to keep from giggling at him. 

“You sure?“ you reach out and put a hand on his arm and he stares at it, he stares so long you think you’ve offended him, but when you go to move away he takes your hand into both of his, pulling you closer.

“I’m sure, don’t- don’t leave okay?” 

You blanch for a second, staring at his pleading face before you nod slowly.

“I’ll stay… it’s okay baby boy I’ll stay” 

You watch him absolutely melt when you say that, his cheeks burn bright as he rolls his eyes and goes to move away from you.

“D-don’t say that” 

Eddie decides he’s had enough of whatever this moment he created is and walks away, you silently groan and walk after him. 

“Eds, hey I thought you were gonna- oh okay oh my god.”

You swipe Eddie’s shirt up from the floor as you come around the corner, he’s searching through your fridge while pulling at the front of his jeans and you lean against the counter. He somehow found your cowboy hat you kept in the hall closet from an old Halloween costume, you’re not even sure when he freaking went in there…

“Whatcha doin' there buddy?” Your mouth drops with his jeans as he kicks them to the side 

“Just hot” he shrugs “I thought…. I could have sworn I bought more eggs” 

Maybe he had, you know, in his own house.

“Nope, fresh out. You hungry? Why don’t I make you somet-“

“You don’t have to baby me you know” He frowns deeply and turns his head away, you set his shirt on the counter and come to wrap your arms around his torso, you lean your head against his back and he freezes 

“I didn’t mean to baby you,” You say quietly. His hands tap yours gingerly before he rests them on your arms, you can feel a little tremble in them, maybe it’s from the alcohol. 

“S’okay” He mumbles and pulls you around to face him. 

“You okay?” You whisper and he looks like he’s about to pass out and you’re sure you’re going to have to carry him back to your bedroom. 

“Have… you- have you always been this pretty?” 

“What?” You laugh a little when you say it, his hands come up to the sides of your face, scrunching uncomfortably like he doesn’t know what to do with them. 

“I like your stupid face” He mumbles more to himself and your eyes widen as he stares at you like you’ve hung the very moon shining through the window. 

“It’s so stupid. It’s so…I like it. Can I touch it?” 

“C-can you what?” You ask breathily and he steps forward, pinning you between the counter and his body… a rock and a hard place. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks softer this time, there’s a little growl to his tone and you nod dumbly trying to understand whatever the hell is happening but not exactly opposing it. 

He cups your face so gently like he’s afraid he’ll break you. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones first, feeling your smooth skin. They trail across the shape of your nose and down to your lips. He likes how soft and plump they feel under his fingertips. 

“You’re so fuckin pretty” He whispers and you hold his waist, squeezing lightly.

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed cowboy” 

“Will you come with me?” He takes the hat off, putting it on your head and you blush when he smirks at you, tilting your chin up toward him. 

“If that’s what you want” 

His hands slide under your thighs and he picks you up, kissing your neck when you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist securely.

“That’s all I want” He sighs, nuzzling into you before unceremoniously dropping you onto the bed, your giggle gets caught in your throat as he pulls at the hem of your pajama pants and slides them off. 

“Hold on there Mister what do you think you’re-“ your palm hits his hard chest as you hold your hand out. He pulls your hand away, kissing down your arm before laying on top of you fully. He sighs loudly, settling in on you, and nuzzles his head into your chest.

You lay still with your hands in the air before he whines a little and your heart melts in your chest. You reach out, stroking his hair, scratching his scalp and he moans softly, his body fully relaxes against yours and you know you’re stuck there for the night. 

“Love you pretty girl” He purrs, and you blink slowly, taking in the words you’ve always wanted to hear from this idiot. 

Eddie wakes up with a raging headache, he reaches blindly to grab his phone from the nightstand but instead, it hits a lamp. He immediately pops his head up, looking around the room.

“Ohhh my god” He whispers, sitting up quickly. He holds his head as he grabs his phone that’s plugged in further down and dials Buck’s number.

“Hello??”

“Dude. Dude dude dude find me on Life360” 

“Bet”

Eddie grabs his pants from the end of the bed and yanks them on, Buck gasps wildly, dramatically, annoyingly, and loudly. 

“What?! What is it?! Did someone kidnap me??? Are they gonna use my body for sex?!”

“You’re at Y/N’s house”

The entire world stops spinning as Eddie drops his phone, he can hear Buck screaming that he has to give him every single dirty detail. He can’t even wrap his head around the fact that there MIGHT be dirty details that he!!!! Can’t remember!!!!

“I have- I have to go I’ll call you later I promise!” 

“I’m gonna text Y/N” 

“Don’t you fucking dare”

“….”

“You did, didn’t you” 

“I don’t think we need to talk about that”

“Jesus fucking-“ Eddie hangs up and gets out of bed, he holds his head in his hands as he takes the medicine that’s there and then downs the glass of water. Now to find you. 

If he hadn’t been freaking out so hardcore he’d have noticed the smell of bacon sooner. He wanders out of your room and down to the kitchen where you’re just plating it up. 

“Oh, hey! You’re awake” Your voice is soft and he’s so incredibly thankful. He sits down at the island and you slide the plate over. 

“Uh…yeah,” he said uneasily. How the fuck does he go about this? Hey girl of my dreams, did I finally cream in more than just my pants?? He toys with his bacon and you look at him.

“Somethin’ wrong? Did I not cook it enough?” 

“Huh?” he shakes his head fast “No- no no no no no it’s great it’s- it’s so good” 

“Uh huh…” you narrow your eyes suspiciously before going back to eating your food. It’s quiet for a little bit and you can just feel Eddie’s uneasiness, you can practically see him sweating.

“Eddie? Are you sure you’re-“

“Did we have sex?” He finally blurts out, his eyes squeezed shut “Please please tell me we didn’t”

You set your fork down and he puts his hands out “Now- now don’t get me wrong! If we did, I’m- shit I’m so so into that and I hope I get the memories back!! But- I- if I don’t remember I’m so sorry really Y/N”

He just sounds so distressed as he’s telling you and you scrunch your face up, feeling secondhand embarrassment and also really freaking bad for him. 

There’s also that… little piece of you that’s kind of sad he doesn’t remember snuggling you all night and whining every time you tried to pull away. 

“We didn’t have sex Eddie” 

Eddie caves in on himself, sighing in relief “Oh thank god” 

“You did tell me I was pretty tho” You lick the yogurt from your spoon as his mouth drops. 

“Said my face was stupid, that ya liked it” 

He slaps his hands over his face and groans, melting into the chair

“Are you shitting me?” 

“Nope! Oh, I fully expect you to grovel when you take it back too. I’m thinking of breakfast in bed. Maybe I’ll make you pay for a massage too… oh and-“

“Who said I was taking it back?” 

You’re taken back for a moment, blinking at him 

“Uh-“

“It… fuck it wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you exactly” He laughs awkwardly “B-but uh- no. I don’t… I don’t want to take it back” 

“You said something else” You swallow awkwardly and he braces for the worst. 

“What?”

“It- it was- it was just you know… a goodnight…”

“Okay? What did I say?” 

“Um-“ You poke at the eggs on your plate “You just. You said uh-“

“What the fuck did I say?” He whispers to himself trying to figure it out and you turn to grab another cup of coffee 

“You said “Love you pretty girl” “You clear your throat as you take a minute to not look at him. 

“Oh” 

You turn to face him, oh?? That’s what he had to say. You sigh as you stir the creamer in and come back to the counter. 

“Ha-ha yeah… yeah pretty uh- pretty weird right?? That’s- that’s the one I want the massage for. You know, saying-saying you-“

“I’m not taking that back either,” Eddie says firmly, his cheeks are blushing, he looks like death and like he’s about to keel over from pure embarrassment but he means it. 

“I do love you” 

He comes around the counter, shoving his anxiety down as hard as he can, and eases the cup from your hands. He puts them on his shoulders before putting his hands on your hips and pulling you close. 

“I’m sorry I was so fucking wasted last night, I’m sorry I somehow ended up here and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you sooner” 

You look at him, clasping your hands behind his neck and standing on your toes, he bends down and smirks, nuzzling his nose against yours as you pull him closer to you, your heart beating wildly. 

“You gonna say anything?” 

“Maybe instead of paying for a massage… you can just give me one instead” 

You press your lips to his, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. He grabs your thighs again, lifting you and splaying his hands across your ass. 

“Sounds good to me”

[accio-victuuri]

THE Life of Us/Drifting MUSIC VIDEO IS AMAZING 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

I think one can make an entire essay long post trying to explain what the scenes could mean. I’m glad that XZ was able to meet and work with a director like LIN who was able to execute this. I can only imagine the creative ideas XZ had for this and to have someone understand his vision and bring it to life is special. It’s so obvious the time, effort and money spent on this and we got it for free. The entire album is free to listen to. I just. Everything about this drop is such a slap to the antis who said it will be 9 covers and 1 original song but XZ goes bitch hold my beer lemme give all original songs and high quality music videos. oh wait, let me write some of the songs too. let me put in some details in my life there just to make it fun. how about that?!

which leads me to those said details/references that someone has compiled. i’m gonna share it here. 📝

P1: the person climbing a ladder in the clouds is something he drew before. I’m proud of him cause this idea of his has been realized. this reminds me of jack and the beanstalk!

P2: the books are design related. i’d like to think it’s his favorite go-to books!

P4: Knitting yarn! XZ knits!

P5: this is pretty obvious and recurring theme when it comes him - the little prince 🌹

P6: more of a comparison from when he was designer xz to now. he was wearing something similar.

P7: Life of Us = Life of Pi. Which is explained more in P8. OP mention that the main character Pi said when writing in his diary: "Everything has become chaotic and broken, I can no longer distinguish between daydreams, sleep, and reality.” The movie/book is a story about a young man who survived a shipwreck and drifted on the sea.but the deeper level seems to be a discussion about human nature, animal nature, and divinity. It’s about the struggle between ego, id, and superego.That tiger may be Pi's heart. What is drifting on the sea, for Pi, is me and "I"; and Pi, It seems to be the epitome of every "us". Finally, Pi told more than one version of the story, and he asked: "Which version do you prefer?" In fact, the choice of the story has always been "me".

"Life of Us/Drifting" sings "What is a dream, what is my greatest fear" "What is a dream, what is what I want most" It’s a question about your own heart, and only you can give the answer.

P9: that scene in the movie ET

additional ones, his favorite paper plane making an appearance and a similar shot from the animated film castle in the sky.

and i noticed that one take where you can see some vintage things like the telephone, but i realized that xz is almost the same age as me so these are things we grew up using!

i’m sure there are more details here and not to mention the hidden meanings too. but that is what makes this video so fun to watch multiple times! you can discover something new each time! I hope they release some behind the scenes on how this was created and all that. i think there should be a documentary of sorts connected to this album if i remember correctly. so yeah! so much more in store for is when it comes to this album 😊