#Women in Translation Month 2024 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

demensrage · 1 month ago

Text

c for creampie fantasy ⚊ •. with toji fushiguro

summary: between drinks and fun with your best friend in your apartment, the truths come to light. he is willing to help you with each of your fantasies, you just have to be a good girl for him.

cw: bestfriend!toji, unprotected, praise kink, nipple play, overstimulation, mating press, big dick!toji, fingering, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, 69 position, hickeys.

wordcount: 8.6k

note: english is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit

The doorbell to your apartment rang insistently; you sighed in stress, all you wanted was a moment of peace. To eat something delicious, take a relaxing bath, and stroll around your house naked.

But whoever was interrupting at that moment had other plans. It wasn’t enough for them to just press the doorbell; they also started banging on the door insistently.

“Wait a damn moment!” you exclaimed angrily. You took off your apron, wrinkling it in your hands before throwing it on the kitchen counter.

But the doorbell kept ringing, and the knocking was starting to pound in your head. Tired, you opened the door, and there he was, with that sly smile, still pressing the doorbell.

“Finally, you have the decency to open the door for me, darling.” Toji didn’t wait for you to invite him in; no, he had self-proclaimed himself the second owner of your house. He walked in, leaving you standing there, mouth agape.

You looked at the wall clock in your living room and said, “What the hell are you doing at my place at 9 PM?” You closed the door, which made a loud thud. You didn’t even wait for a response from him; after all, he wasn’t planning to give one.

He left the two boxes of sake on the coffee table in the living room, settling them on the huge L-shaped furniture. He was utterly shameless, having taken over your space while insisting on having a copy of the key to your apartment.

“Stop looking at me with that pretty face of yours and sit with me,” he said, looking at you, studying the outfit you were wearing.

You had known Toji for several years through a mutual friend. Since then, as you got to know him better, you realized that no matter what clothes you wore, he would always manage to make a lewd comment about how you looked.You were certainly used to that, so you didn’t even care about how much clothing you had on. But that night was different; you were barely wearing enough fabric—shorts that barely covered your backside and a loose, short top that only hid your breasts.

He couldn’t judge you; you were at home on a Saturday night, and the last thing you expected was visitors. Much less his presence.

“This is supposed to be my night,” you complained as you walked toward the kitchen. “You can’t just take over my life for existing.” Toji seemed amused by your response; his deep, hearty laugh filled the space you lived in. “Because I can, that’s why I’m doing it,” he replied.

You could hear his footsteps approaching the kitchen, and when you turned around, he was leaning against the counter.

You were unaware of the mixed feelings he had for you. You had always seen him as someone very open about things, which included his midnight conquests. Toji didn’t commit; you repeated that constantly—not for yourself, but for the women who sought your advice as the closest female to him.

But there he was with you, as he had been for the past four months,waking you up with a good morning text. Goodnight texts before sleeping, unexpected outings, and visits. As unexpected as tonight.

His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, resting his chin on your head. Toji was big—in every sense of the word. You admired his physique; he didn’t work out much, but somehow he had achieved that wall of muscles.

“That smells delicious; did you really think you were going to eat that all by yourself?” His husky voice caressed every part of your system, making heat rise up your neck and settle in your now-blushing cheeks. “Uhm, did your tongue get eaten or something?” he asked when he saw that you weren’t responding.

Shamelessly, he brought the bottle of sake to your lips so you could take a sip. Obediently, you did, savoring the sweetness of the drink and feeling it refresh your system.

“Since you’re here, I have no choice but to share with you,” you said resignedly, slipping out of his arms to continue with your work.

If anyone saw you both like that, they would say you were a couple, that you had been together for years. That’s not true; Toji was a sweet talker, or so you thought. Even though you had been friends for years, you didn’t know all his facets.

On his part, he had found fascination in holding your body in his arms; you were soft in comparison to him. Everything about you was a counterpart to himself, and he loved that.

Yes, he loved, because Toji loved many things about you: your sarcasm, your intellect, your kindness, your breasts, and your smile. He realized that at the least expected moment when you were at a friend’s house, who had invited you both for dinner. You looked beautiful in that pastel pink dress that hugged your body perfectly; he was unable to take his eyes off you.

At that moment, he wasn’t even looking at a friend; he was looking at you as if you were something much more than that. He knew it when his friend pointed out that he looked like a lovesick idiot when he was staring at you.

Now, after four months since that incident, he feels like a true lovesick idiot. One who is lovesick and confused, because even though you give him obvious signals, you keep unconsciously dodging them.

“The best night of all will be this one. Alcohol, food, and a lovely little kitty just for me.” You only laughed at his comment; he always had you all to himself. After all, among the entire group of friends, you two spent the most time together.

You were already on your fifth bottle of sake and felt like you couldn’t stop laughing. The TV was on; Toji had put on that comedy show he loved to watch in his free time. But as a bad drinker, you weren’t measuring the constant intake you were having. Your body was hot; you didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol in your system—though the percentage was lower than regular sake—or if it was due to the caresses of your companion.

Your legs rested on his lap; at this point, you didn’t care about anything—literally, anything. The way he kneaded the flesh of your thighs and then alternated with soft touches made you slide more onto his lap, and he showed no resistance in holding you.

"You’ll be my downfall, kitty," he murmured as if you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but you did, and now you were curious about why he said that. You leaned forward a bit, your body more relaxed than you thought due to the warmth of the drink and Toji’s attentions. Your half-closed eyes looked at him, trying to focus your mind through the alcohol haze enveloping you.

"Why do you say that?" you asked, your voice somewhat softer and more hesitant than usual. Toji looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours for a moment before a lopsided smile crept onto his face. His fingers continued tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin, as if he never wanted to stop.

"Because you drive me crazy," he replied in that deep, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. "Look at you… How do you expect me to control myself when you’re like this, all for me?"

His words ignited something in you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the intensity of his gaze, but you felt a growing desire to know how far his words and actions would go.

“I don’t plan to be another one of your fleeting conquests,” you denied, setting the sake bottle aside. “That would ruin our friendship.”

You were oblivious to what he felt for you. Toji had stopped treating you like a friend a long time ago, but you kept insisting that you were just best friends and nothing more. He slid his hands a little further up your thighs, massaging and caressing.

Leaning in enough to brush your nose with his, he whispered, “No, not at all. That would strengthen our friendship; it would go to a more… deep level.” His warm breath caressed your face, and for a second, you wondered if it tasted the same as what you were drinking. You slightly shook your head to clear the lewd thoughts from your mind.

“You always want to go deeper with every woman you meet,” you said, looking him in the eyes, pulling your face a little away from his. They were too close for your sanity, for how quickly your mind was wandering.

Toji let out a low, rumbling laugh, his hands never leaving your thighs, deliberately stroking your skin as if he were tracing every inch of your body in his memory. "Not with everyone," he replied, his voice laden with a tone you hadn’t heard before. "You’re not just any woman, kitty."

His words made you frown slightly. There was something different in his tone, something that sparked a mix of unease and curiosity in you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the situation, or just Toji, but your heart raced, your thoughts clouding with the closeness of his body and the heat of his hands.

“We’re friends, Toji,” you insisted, though your voice didn’t sound as firm as you wanted. “I don’t want to ruin that for something that might mean nothing tomorrow.”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite identify, as if he were debating something internally. He leaned in a little closer, his nose brushing against yours once more while his hands tightened softly on your thighs. “That’s what you don’t understand… This does mean something. You mean something. And I won’t let you keep thinking otherwise.”

The silence between you was so thick you could almost cut it. You were caught between what you knew was safe—the friendship you had built with Toji—and the uncertainty he presented with every touch and every word. You knew that if you took one more step, there would be no turning back.

“It’s just the alcohol talking for you.” You preferred to deny it, to deny what you didn’t see at first but that he had confessed to you at that moment. But even so, you didn’t yield; you remained still by his side, the edge of your backside brushing against the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

You ran both hands through your hair, pushing aside the rebellious strands that had fallen over your face. You had consumed every part of him with that simple act. His eyes devoured you, savoring every part of you until they once again stopped at the breasts he longed to have in his mouth.

A strip of surrounding skin was exposed for his delight; he could feel himself getting hard in his pants, all because of you. "It's not the alcohol, babe. I've been wanting you for way too long, long before this bottle." His hoarse voice was laden with a raw sincerity that made you shiver, while his intense gaze continued to explore every corner of your body, especially that skin you had unwittingly left exposed.

You swallowed, trying to maintain your composure. You knew your words weren’t stopping him, but you also didn’t want to admit how each touch and each of his words was melting your will. You felt trapped in the tension that was growing between you, as if the air in the room were heavier, laden with unconfessed desires.

He didn’t move much, but you could feel him against you, his erection pressing lightly against the edge of your rear. It was impossible to ignore. "You don’t have to keep denying it," Toji murmured, his lips barely brushing the edge of your ear, sending a chill down your body. "You know as well as I do that this isn't just a whim. I'm not a man of whims... not with you."

Your hands remained tangled in your hair, trying to find some kind of distraction while Toji's words penetrated you, eroding the barrier you had built. You played with your hands, searching for the right words. “You know I'm not open to anything right now,” you murmured, turning your face to look at him, his gaze holding yours. “Uhm, I have to…”

His hands slid a little higher up your thighs, firm but not aggressive, as if he were testing you, gauging your reaction. You bit your lip, your mind trying to organize itself amid the chaos he had unleashed within you. You knew Toji had always been direct, but this moment was different. The intensity in his eyes, the firmness of his touch, the way his words seemed so definitive... it all made you feel an internal vertigo you couldn't ignore.

"You have to... what?" Toji asked softly, leaning in until his lips almost brushed against yours but didn't touch. He was waiting for a sign from you, a confirmation, though every fiber of his being seemed on the verge of losing patience.

“I’m a hard person to please, uhm, you know that.” You lied, trying to form an excuse at all costs.

Toji raised an eyebrow, his smile twisting into a gesture of pure disbelief, almost amused. "Hard to please?" he repeated, his tone low and teasing. "Don’t lie, kitty. You know I can make you feel things you haven’t even dared to imagine." His hand slid higher up your thigh, almost daring you to keep denying it.

You felt a knot form in your stomach, a mix of nerves and anticipation. You were playing a dangerous game with someone who knew your limits too well but also how to push you beyond them. The air around you felt denser, almost suffocating, as if it were waiting for you to make the decision that you both knew you would come to, sooner or later.

"It's not about what you think you are," Toji continued, leaning in closer until his lips barely grazed the edge of your ear, the warmth of his breath making you shiver. "It's about what you need... And I can give you everything you desire. You just have to be a good girl for me."

The very idea of Toji, of having him to yourself, of letting go, made you feel a heat between your legs that you couldn’t ignore. You bit your lip, trying to suppress what was happening to you, but the wetness in your panties betrayed you.

Toji noticed, of course he did. His gaze dropped to your bitten lips, and then his eyes roamed your body with a hunger that made your skin burn even more. "Ah, I see..." he murmured, his voice rich with a low, dark tone that made you tremble. "You don’t have to say anything. Your body has already told me everything."

You bit your lip harder, trying to hold back, but Toji wasn't going to let you escape so easily. "You don’t need to search for more excuses. I know you feel it, that you want it... Just admit it, kitty," he whispered, his face getting closer and closer to yours.

His fingers slid up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to the edge of your panties, his touch sending an electric current throughout your body.

"Tell me what you want; I won't judge you. I know the idiots you date don’t fuck you right. Damn, a cute little slut like you should be fucked until there's nothing left to give," he whispered in your ear, settling you on his lap, your thighs on either side of his hips.

"Don’t play the good girl and be a naughty for me."

His words, raw and straightforward, made you shudder. The heat built up inside you, and while you tried to cling to the idea that you needed to stand firm, the way he looked at you made everything crumble. The way his voice resonated in your mind, making you envision a scenario where you existed solely to please him, unleashed every fantasy you had tried to hide.

Your body responded to him, to the desire that was beginning to grow uncontrollably. It was an internal struggle: on one side, the resistance of reason, and on the other, the primal urge to surrender to what he offered you. You felt trapped between desire and fear, and Toji knew it.

"Tell me. What would you like to do with me?" As his index finger glided over your exposed abdomen until it touched the edge of the piece of fabric you had as a top, he gently lifted it, revealing your breasts, firm and round. Toji was sure they fit perfectly in his hands, and the way his eyes darkened as he looked at you made you feel even more exposed.

"Come on, kitty, I need to hear your voice. Tell me what you desire," he insisted, his gaze fixed on you, as if every word that came from your lips were the only permission he needed to proceed. There was a mix of urgency and patience in his voice, a palpable tension in the air.

You bit your lip, struggling between the need to fulfill his desire and the fear of what that meant. The way he touched you, the warmth of his hand, and the desire emanating from him made you question everything you had believed about yourself. You knew he was willing to take you to a place you had never been before, but only if you dared to take the first step.

"Don't play games," he whispered, pressing a little more, his fingers barely touching the skin of your breasts. "I need you to be honest with me. Tell me what you really want." His voice had a tone of authority that made you feel trapped in his game, and the desire he had ignited in you seemed to flare even more.

And you had dreamed of it. Several nights you had closed your eyes and imagined Toji between your legs, turning you into a mess, immersing you in the pleasure you craved so much. You had seen yourself, lost in the whirlwind of his caresses, filling yourself with him until you felt him spill out of you, as if you couldn't contain it.

The intensity of those dreams had left you with a mix of longing and frustration. You woke up with heat coursing through your body and the feeling of emptiness between your legs, wishing those nocturnal visions would become reality. Now, in this situation, so close to him, that desire was more alive than ever, pushing you to cross the line you had been trying to maintain.

The idea of being completely vulnerable before him, of letting him take you to the brink of ecstasy, was starting to seem more and more tempting. "I want you to fill me," you managed to murmur, feeling how shame and desire intertwined in your chest.

Toji smiled, satisfied, as if he knew he had won. "That's all I needed to hear," he said, his gaze fixed on you, before smashing his mouth against yours in a disorganized, wet kiss. Toji leaned closer, his eyes filled with desire. His tongue claimed your mouth, exploring every corner, while you could only gasp against his lips, letting pleasure overwhelm you. You felt his fingers move firmly, pinching and rolling your nipples, pulling them with an intensity that made you arch your back.

The kiss grew more passionate, more ravenous, and every brush of his hands intensified the fire within you. His body pressed against yours, and in that instant, the world around you faded away. There was nothing else but him, the taste of his mouth, and the sensation of his hands, making you lose yourself in a spiral of pleasure.

"That's it, kitten," he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with an undeniable desire. "Let go." His hands continued to play with your body, and every movement made it feel more real, more intense.

Toji left your mouth, leaving a trail of desire on your lips as he began planting wet, short kisses along your jawline, quickly descending towards your neck. His lips were demanding, as if each kiss claimed your skin as his own. When he reached your neck, he began sucking with force, leaving hickeys that marked your skin, evidencing his possessiveness.

"You’re so delicious," he murmured against your skin, while his hands moved with determination, exploring your breasts with a firmness that made you shiver. His touch was possessive, overwhelming, and each tug of his fingers on your nipples sent electricity coursing through your body.

With a swift motion, he pulled your top, leaving you exposed before him. "Look how you react," he said, watching you with a satisfied smile as his lips devoured your nipples, alternating between sucking and biting, not caring about how you might feel. The hickeys were raw, marked by the intensity of his desire, as if each one was a promise of what he was willing to do to you.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his dark eyes fixed on you, filled with hunger. “Do you like it?” The tone of his voice was dominant, and there was a certainty in his gaze that made you feel as if you were completely at his mercy. The line between pleasure and pain blurred, and all you could do was let yourself be swept away by the intensity of his control, wishing it wouldn't stop.

You nodded immediately, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him toward you, pressing him against your breasts. “Suck them, please,” you whispered, feeling the mix of desire and urgency flowing between you.

Toji smiled, pleased, before pressing his lips in a possessive gesture against your skin. The pleading in your voice ignited him even more. His mouth closed around one of your nipples, sucking hard, while his eyes remained fixed on you, watching every reaction.

“I like it like this,” he murmured between kisses, leaving fiery marks that would tell the story of his possession. His tongue played with the tip of your nipple, swirling and teasing, while his hands seized your hips, holding you exactly where he wanted.

Each pull of his mouth and each flick of his tongue made you gasp, and the pressure in your abdomen intensified. Toji was making sure you understood who was in charge, and every moment of pleasure he gave you was a reminder that he had claimed you.

Your hands began to explore eagerly, traveling over his covered chest until they slipped between the folds of his shirt, searching for the warmth of his skin. As you brushed against his muscles, you felt the firmness and hardness of his abdomen, sculpted to perfection. Every line and curve of his torso was a work of art, and the desire to see and feel every inch of him intensified.

You needed more. To see the body you had secretly admired for so long. The mere thought made you burn inside, and now, with Toji latched onto your breasts, sucking and claiming every part of you, you couldn’t help but feel completely hooked.

His body was exquisite, and it entrapped you just as much as he did you. As you caressed him, every contraction of his muscles beneath your fingers only fueled your need. Your mind was filled with images of him above you, filling you in ways you had only dreamed of, and now you had him here, his dominance palpable in every movement.

His hands cupped your ass firmly, pushing you against his hard cock, and the gesture didn’t let your surprise go unnoticed. Toji was big, too big. You could feel his size even through the clothes, pressing against you, and the moisture in your panties was undeniable, soaking the fabric that separated you from him.

The friction of his body against yours heightened every sensation, making you aware of what was to come. Every movement he made, every squeeze on your hips, was a reminder that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Toji effortlessly lifted you off his lap, settling into the armchair while you remained completely open for him. He knelt between your legs, keeping them apart with that strength and dominance that left you breathless. His large hands slowly traveled up your inner thighs, rising with caresses that seemed to ignite your skin.

When his thumb finally reached your pussy, still covered by fabric, he began to massage your clitoris with firm, controlled movements. The friction, even through the cloth, made you shudder, and each of his caresses seemed to mock the barrier that still separated you from him.

“Look how I have you,” he whispered, his tone filled with twisted flattery. “You’re perfect, getting wet just for me. I haven’t even touched you properly and you’re already soaked, little cat. This is what you needed, right? Someone to fuck you like you deserve.”

You nodded at each of his words as your hips pressed against his thumb, chasing a release he was willing to give you, to see you tremble with pleasure until you could no longer bear it.

His finger slowly left your pussy, leaving you with a sense of emptiness, only to grab the edge of your pants and panties, sliding them down in one swift motion. In an instant, he left you completely exposed to him, vulnerable under his intense and dominant gaze. A searing heat coursed through your body, and the urge to close your legs overwhelmed you, wanting to hide from the way he devoured you with his eyes.

But he wouldn’t allow it.

His broad shoulders blocked your escape, firm and confident, preventing any attempts to pull away. Toji pressed his large hands against your thighs, forcing you to stay open, displaying you as he wanted, with no possible resistance. “Don’t hide from me, precious,” he growled in a low voice thick with desire. “You’re going to let me see all of you... you’re going to let me devour you like the good girl you are.”

His fingers slowly glided over your pussy, expertly parting your folds while his eyes feasted on every detail. He watched in fascination as your skin glistened, wet and slippery under his touch. Toji’s intense gaze was fixed on you, as if he were etching every second of your vulnerability, of how soaked you were just for him, into his memory.

“Look how you drip,” he murmured, his words laden with lust.

His fingers traveled to your hole, collecting your juices with a torturous slowness, as if he wanted to prolong your agony. Then, with the same calmness, he spread the moisture all over your pussy, smearing your own fluids in every corner, making you feel even more exposed. “You’re perfect… so ready for me. Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?”

He didn’t need to spit on your pussy to lubricate you, not with you. You were so incredibly wet that his middle finger slipped in effortlessly, gliding into your depths, causing a muffled moan to escape you. The feeling of his finger inside you was intense, but not enough.

“Toji... three, please,” you whispered with a trembling voice, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, but desire dominated you. One wasn’t enough; you needed more, and he knew it.

“Three, huh? What an ambitious little slut.” Toji smirked, clearly pleased with your request. Without hesitation, he added two more fingers, sliding them in with the same ease as the first, feeling how your walls adjusted to his size as your hips arched, seeking more friction, more depth. “You’re going to beg me for more before I’m done with you. I promise you that.”

His fingers felt incredibly good inside you, making it impossible not to clench around them, wishing he would never stop. The lewd sound of your wetness filled the air, each movement resonating like a symphony of desire and pleasure.

But Toji didn’t stop there. He knew you needed more. His fingers deepened their rhythm, moving with a perfect blend of rawness and delicacy, just as his tongue joined the party. It slipped between your folds, enveloping your hard bud with insatiable voracity. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured against your skin before beginning to suck and lick your clitoris, playing with it as if it were his favorite toy.

Toji nibbled gently, alternating between sucking and teasing, making you tremble under his dominance. Every touch, every movement of his tongue pushed you closer to the edge, filling your entire being with a pleasure so raw and intense that it was impossible to maintain control.

You mewled in pleasure, one of your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him against your pussy, as you rolled your hips against his mouth in desperation. His fingers curled inside you, searching for that sweet spot that would bring you to the edge of ecstasy, making you delirious with pleasure. “Ah, ah!” Your cries filled the space, echoing in the room and encouraging him to continue, to take you even further.

Toji reveled in your response, increasing the intensity of his movements. His tongue moved fast and agile, dancing over your clit as his fingers penetrated you, finding the perfect rhythm that made your entire body tremble. “Fucking sweet, she has a delicious pussy sweetness,” he whispered between licks, his voice heavy with desire and lust. You felt completely at his mercy, becoming more lost in the sensation, wanting more than he could give you.

Before you could process the moment, Toji pulled away from you, bringing two of his glistening fingers up to your lips. “Open that pretty little mouth for me,” he commanded, his voice deep and commanding, making it clear that there was no room for resistance.

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, feeling your full lips envelop his fingers, tasting your own desire on his skin. Toji watched, fascinated by the sight you offered. The sheen of your saliva on his fingers made him want to fuck your mouth, a desire that intensified with every second.

As he continued to devour your pussy, his pace became more frantic, and his gaze was fixed on you. “That’s it, kitten, feel how I want you,” he said, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, filling it with his essence as his tongue continued to lick at your clit.

He left one last kiss on your pussy, a soft caress that made you shudder before he stood up, admiring the scene before him. You looked so fucking hot; your flushed cheeks and bright eyes of desire gave you away. You were completely open for him, pussy glistening with your wetness, while your tits and neck were marked by bites and hickeys, traces of his hunger.

Toji took a moment to enjoy the sight, knowing that he had driven you to the edge of madness and that he wanted you like never before. “You look perfect like this,” he murmured, a sly smile revealing his satisfaction. He moved closer, letting his hands roam over your body, feeling the warmth of your skin and the softness of your curves as he gave you one last look full of promise. “It’s time for us to play some more, kitten.”

That hint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable as he dropped his pants and boxers to the floor, revealing his fat cock, a sight that made you hold your breath. You hadn’t been wrong to think he was big; he was more than you had imagined.

Precum glistened on his bubblegum pink tip, and his heavy, full balls were ready for you, as if they knew they were meant to satisfy your darkest desires. The skin of his cock, the same milky hue as his abdomen, was an exquisite sight, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight, an instinctive response that betrayed your growing need.

“Like what you see, sweetness?” he asked, his voice deep and teasing, as he took a step closer, daring you to give in to temptation. Toji grabbed your hips, lowering you against his mouth, giving a playful lick. “Fuck the view is even better from here.” and without a second thought, he forced your hips to crush his mouth, opening it to devour you.

You mewled in pleasure once more, resting your hands on his abdomen. You were so turned on, you hadn't cum once and yet the feeling of pleasure was so good you wanted to stop time to feel it forever.

You rocked your hips with him, but Toji tightened his grip, immobilizing you as he plunged his tongue into your dripping hole. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling like your hands weren't enough to cover it completely. Toji's growl ripped through your nerve endings, causing a shiver to run through your body.

Meanwhile, his hands slid down to your ass, spreading your ass cheeks to continue enjoying you. The combination of his mouth and his attention was driving you to the edge of madness, every caress and every lick making you want more.

You felt desire run through your body, an intense burning that wouldn't leave you. His words, soft but firm, confirmed what you longed for. "Do it, let me feel that pretty mouth of yours on my cock," he murmured, as two of his fingers slid inside you, intensifying the pleasure that was already consuming you.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile as you moved closer to him, feeling the electricity in the air. With one hand, you stroked the length of his p0ll4, enjoying the soft, warm texture between your fingers. His muscles tensed, a soft growl escaping his lips as you enveloped him with your mouth, wetting every inch of his skin with your tongue.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Toji whispered, his raspy voice filled with desire. You gave in to lust, making slow movements at first, enjoying every moan that escaped his mouth. His breath grew heavier, each sigh turning you on more.

Your head bobbed up and down, taking more of him into your mouth.

His fingers tangled in your hair, gently guiding you as your lips worked at his base. “That’s it, baby. Keep going,” he said, his voice filled with need. You felt his cock grow harder in your mouth, the pressure of his desire making you want more.

You struggled to keep up, matching the pleasure of his cock with your tongue, teasing the tip of his member, causing his body to shiver. But when his mouth returned to your pussy you moaned around him.

As your lips slid along his length, you began to play with his balls, stroking them with your fingers and massaging gently, feeling the tension build in his abdomen. The mix of pleasure you shared was almost palpable, and it filled you with desire to know you were bringing him to the edge. His balls were ready to empty, and you knew you wanted to feel him completely, flooding you with him.

“That’s it, sweetness,” Toji said, his voice a whisper laden with need. “Don’t stop.” His words were like fuel to your fire, and you pushed yourself to make him feel as good as possible, intent on leaving him completely satisfied.

Toji’s tongue began to move faster against you, forcing you to let him moan. The sounds coming out of your mouth mixed with the rhythm of his tongue, a symphony of pleasure and need. Each lick was a wave of sensations that coursed through your body, driving you to the edge.

“Ah, Toji!” you gasped, unable to hold back your moans as your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. The way his tongue teased your clit made you lose control, and your hands gripped his thighs, pushing your pussy closer, wanting to feel every part of him.

With each flick of his tongue, your moans became louder, filling the space with the echo of your pleasure. Desire and need intertwined in a crescendo, bringing you ever closer to the edge.

“Toji, don’t stop,” you begged, feeling the tension building inside you, preparing to erupt in a wave of pleasure.

You flicked your tongue out to lick the tip that was squirting his precum, eyes closed and wet from the overstimulation, you closed your lips against the head of his cock and sucked hard. Hearing him growl as he pushed his hips into your face. One last lick was enough to make you come undone in his mouth. You bit your lips hard before crying out in pleasure.

Toji softly asked you to get off of him, and so you did, feeling the need and anticipation coursing through you. You were more than ready to be fucked. He settled himself on top of you, and you felt his tip press against your hole, dripping with desire.

He claimed your lips again, the kiss fierce and demanding, as his hands slid down to hold your knees, pulling your legs tight to your chest. “Keep your legs up for me,” he ordered, his voice a soft whisper laden with authority.

You let yourself go, obeying without hesitation. The feeling of vulnerability turned you on, and your eyes met his, filled with desire and determination. Toji positioned himself, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the tension palpable in the air.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice a low growl that made you shiver. You nodded, knowing what was coming next would be the culmination of all that anticipation, the connection you so craved.

With a teasing movement, he let the tip enter your hole, and that alone was enough to make you roll your eyes and rethink whether his entire thickness would fit. “It’s not going in, you’re big,” you whispered, your gaze fixed on that spot that joined you. “You’ll get used to it; if I have to fuck you every day to get you to do it, I will.”

He went in a little further, just a little further, then back out. He was teasing you, enjoying the desperate look on your face, the way your pussy was throbbing to be filled by him.

“Please, Toji,” you begged, like a desperate, lustful whore for his cock. “Don’t leave me like this, I need more.”

His lips curved into a teasing smile as he reveled in your desperation. “So you like being treated this way, huh?” he muttered, as he thrust again, this time a little deeper.

Your body reacted instantly, a moan escaping your lips at the feeling of that warm, dirty pressure. “Give me more,” you insisted, feeling your desire grow, the need for his thickness filling every corner of your being.

“I just want you to get used to it,” he said in a deep voice, almost a growl, as he pressed a little harder, making your body arch, wanting to take him in completely. The way he laughed at you only fueled the lust burning inside you.

“That’s it, hold on,” he ordered, taking your legs firmly and holding them up. He moved slowly at first, enjoying the ride, milking out every inch of pleasure before pulling back and thrusting back in. “This is how it’s done.”

“What a greedy cunt,” Toji said, his deep voice filled with mockery as he watched your cunt swallow him, clenching around him as if it didn’t want to let him go. The way your body wanted him turned him on even more.

“I’m sorry, I know I can take it. I don’t need to get used to it, Toji, please,” you whimpered in pleasure, your eyes shining with the tears that threatened to fall, every movement of his sending waves of satisfaction through you.

Toji smirked mischievously, feeling your body react to his thickness. “So you’re ready for what’s next?” he said, picking up the pace, driving deeper into you with each thrust. “Let me hear those moans, baby.”

His hips moved hard, thrusting deeper and deeper, as his hand settled on your hip, holding you firmly in place. Each thrust was a reminder of who was in charge, and you welcomed it, giving yourself over to the intensity of each moment.

You cried out in pleasure, each thrust of Toji sending electric shocks through your body. You were so full, so drunk with pleasure, that the outside world faded away with each stroke. His thickness filled every corner of you, and every movement had you writhing and moaning, unable to contain the cries of satisfaction that escaped your lips.

“Toji, more… give me more!” you pleaded, the words spilling out of your mouth like a mantra. Your body arched against his, wanting to feel him even deeper, wanting to lose yourself in the madness of this moment.

“You like it, baby?” he murmured, a teasing smirk on his face as he quickened his pace, making the sound of his skin slapping against yours echo through the air. Each thrust was a shock of pleasure, making you feel more and more eager, more desirous.

Toji wouldn’t stop, and you knew he would enjoy every moment of your surrender, every moan that escaped your mouth. You were completely at his mercy, and you loved it.

One of his hands traveled to your tit, squeezing it firmly as his fingers rolled around your nipple, pulling on it in a precise motion that made you arch your back. The overstimulation made you moan even more, each touch of his fingers stoking the fire inside you. Your tits swayed with each thrust, his slaps against your body echoing in the room, resonating with the sound of sloshing that filled the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass with each movement, adding an extra sensation that made you lose your sanity.

“Toji… yes! Don’t stop,” you cried out, feeling the pleasure building up in your abdomen. You were caught in a storm of sensations, unable to think of anything but him, his body against yours, and the desire that consumed you. The pace intensified, and with each thrust, he made sure to take you further, to a point where there was no turning back.

The curve of his cock was so perfect that each thrust hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Toji growled in pleasure, his expression a mix of concentration and delight as he watched you, enjoying how your body responded to every movement.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on you as he increased the pace making you feel every inch of his thickness. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with your moans.

“You’re so tight, so perfect,” Toji said, his voice low and heavy with desire. His gaze intensified as he focused on you, enjoying the show you put on. “I'm going to make you forget about everything else.”

Moans escaped your lips, each one louder than the last as he dug deeper, searching for that spot that would make you lose control. The pressure in your abdomen built, and you knew you were close to exploding.

“Toji, don’t stop,” you begged, feeling the combination of his thickness and steady pace drive you to the edge. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore.”

With a teasing smile, he looked into your eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here to make you feel good,” he said as his hips slammed into you harder, each thrust a direct hit to your pleasure.

You clung to his back, dragging him towards you as you bit his neck to silence your cries of pleasure. Each thrust from Toji was like a jolt of electricity running through your body, and the need to hold back those moans became more and more difficult. His skin was hot under your lips, and the mix of his sweat and yours created an intoxicating sensation.

“Toji,” you gasped through your teeth, feeling the pressure build up inside you. Every time his hips slammed into yours, the friction drove you closer to the edge of insanity. His hands were firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move to the rhythm he set.

“You like it like this?” he asked in a playful tone, his breath hot on your ear. “Because I can make it harder.” His voice was a whisper filled with defiance and lust, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he made you feel: completely his.

You nodded, unable to form words as you looked up at him, eyes filled with desire. “Yes, please…” you pleaded, feeling the tension inside you begin to boil over.

He complied, increasing the speed and depth of his thrusts, each stroke echoing in the air as your bodies came together. The combination of his pace and the way he looked at you, full of confidence, sent you over the edge of euphoria.

“This is just the beginning,” he murmured as he thrust into you harder, the sound of his skin clashing with yours filling the room. “Get ready for what’s next.”

The words excited him as much as they did you, and your body reacted instantly, feeling like you were about to fall into an abyss of pleasure.

His hand slid between you, searching for that spot that would make you lose control. With an expert move, his fingers found your clit, applying perfect pressure that made your body shudder. You clung to his back tighter, feeling each brush of his fingers add to the intensity of his penetration.

“See?” “I can make you feel so much better,” he said, a teasing smile revealing his satisfaction at watching you lose yourself in the mix of pleasure. His fingers worked in circles, as his cock continued to hit that sweet spot inside you, taking you beyond any limits you had ever known.

Your moans became louder, unable to be suppressed as he made you experience waves of pleasure. “Toji, I can’t… I’m close,” you managed to say, the pressure building up, taking you to the edge of ecstasy.

“That’s what I want, baby,” he murmured, increasing the speed of his fingers as his hips continued their intense dance. “I want you to melt for me.”

You felt like a whirlwind of sensations, and each thrust along with his caresses made you lose track of time. The room was filled with whispers, moans, and the sound of skin colliding, creating a symphony of pleasure that only he could orchestrate.

With every movement of his hand, the pressure inside you grew, and you knew you were close to exploding. “Yes… please…” you begged, feeling the need consume you.

“I’m going to cream you so good,” he said, his voice deep and confident, as his hand and cock worked together to bring you to the top. “Fuck, I want to see my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy of yours.” And when you finally came, the climax washed over you like a wave, leaving you breathless as the pleasure engulfed you completely.

You felt Toji tense up on you, his breathing becoming faster, almost like a warning of what was to come. Each thrust was more intense, and that spark of pent-up desire that had grown between you was about to burst. His hands gripped your hips tightly, making sure there was no escape as he lost himself in the pleasure.

“I’m going to…” he murmured, his voice husky and full of desire. “I’m going to fill you up.” His eyes shone with a mix of lust and satisfaction, as if every movement brought him closer to the edge of that abyss of pleasure. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as he gave himself over completely, the muscles in his body tensing as you felt his cock grow even harder inside you.

With one last deep thrust, Toji let out a growl, a primal sound that filled the room. The world around you faded away as he reached his climax, filling you with his seed, letting his desire flow inside you, mixing with your own ecstasy. You could feel it staining your rubbery walls, the warmth of his cum inside you,

You clung to his body, feeling every wave of pleasure wash over him, every spasm sending waves of satisfaction across his skin. His eyes closed for a moment, letting out a heavy exhale, as if releasing all the tension built up inside him.

Toji leaned forward, his eyes locked on you, watching every little movement. He wanted to see it, he wanted to witness how everything he had given you flowed out of you, that moment when his desire mixed with yours. The look on his face was a mix of possessiveness and satisfaction, almost as if he was enjoying the show you were putting on for him.

“I want to see,” he murmured, his voice low and heavy with desire. With one hand, he took your chin, forcing you to keep your gaze on his eyes, while his other hand slid between your bodies.

Feeling vulnerable and exposed, a wave of pleasure and excitement ran through your body as you watched his liquid slowly slide out, dripping from your pussy, leaving a visible trail connecting it to you.

“That’s right, baby,” he said in a teasing tone, enjoying the sight. “Watch it slip away. You’re so greedy, swallowing everything I have for you.”

An involuntary moan escaped your lips as the feeling of his cum dripping down your body caused you a mix of shame and arousal. The sight of his body still shaking in pleasure, the glistening drops sliding down your skin, and the way he looked at you, it was all a heady combination that kept you in a state of pure ecstasy.

Toji smirked, his eyes fixed on you as he scooped up some of his cum with two fingers, making sure not a drop was wasted. The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the center of his universe, and the mix of shame and desire sent a shiver through your body.

“Save it for me,” he said in an orderly tone, as his fingers slowly slid down your body, right where you wanted him most.

He looked at you with an expression that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. With one precise movement, he brought his fingers to your pussy, carefully inserting them while maintaining eye contact. The combination of his scent and the touch of his fingers made you moan, forcing you to feel every inch of his presence.

“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice low and full of mischief, knowing exactly the effect he had on you.

With a slight movement, he withdrew his fingers, leaving a void that made you moan for more. The air between you was thick with tension, and you couldn’t help it: desire took over you, wanting him to fill you again, wanting every inch of him.

“Yes, please,” you replied, your voice cracking, feeling your body preparing to receive him again. You clung to his torso, your legs shaking in anticipation, as he settled himself better on top of you.

Toji leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours as his lips curved into a provocative smile. “Then get ready, because this only gets better.”

Without further warning, he guided his cock into you, pressing the tip against your pussy. With a firm motion, he began to enter you slowly, enjoying the way your body received him, eagerly absorbing him.

“Ah, that’s it,” he murmured, feeling your body take him in as he began to pump in a controlled but intense rhythm. Each thrust was like a wave of pleasure that spilled over between you, driving you closer to madness.

The sensations intensified, the sound of your bodies colliding, filling the room as your moans and his grunts blended together, creating a symphony of shared desire.

“You’re perfect,” Toji said, increasing the pace. “I can’t get enough of you.”

#jjk toji #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #—demensrage.

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 3 months ago

Text

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Summary: He's been gone for 4 months. 118 days without a phone call or a text. What happens when he finally shows back up to work? Will he give Kaela the answers she's looking for?

Parings: Roman Reigns x Black OC

Word Count: 2.2k

EDIT: I Forgot to give props to my girl @paigereeder ! She helped me out tremendously! Without her, this jawn would not have gotten done lmao.

youtube

Friday Night Smackdown August 2nd, 2024

Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me

Kalea Crawford stared down at her phone in shock. She could feel Jade and Bianca's gaze on her so she tried to school her features but the bold headline at the top of the page made her furrow her eyebrows. She felt like she was about to throw up.

“Girl, are you okay?” Jade asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Kalea replied a little too quickly, her eyes still focused on the phone. All three women knew it was a lie though. Kalea was anything but ‘fine’. If there was a word to describe how Kalea felt it was devastated. The longer she stared at the tweet the more she wanted to scream in frustration and anger. How could he do this to her?

“When’s the last time you talked to him?” Bianca spoke up this time.

“It’s been a while.” Bianca and Jade shared a look.

“How long is ‘a while’?” Jade pressed.

“I was giving him time, you know? He’s been dealing with so much these past couple of months, and I just thought.” Kalea trailed off with a shrug.

“Lele -”

“The day after Wrestlemania.” She kept her eyes cast downwards so as not to see the disappointed look on Jade and Bianca’s faces.

“Wrestlema- Girl that was four months ago!”

“I know,” Kalea whispered. She knew it was dumb but like she said, she was giving him time. He had just lost the Universal Title and had a bunch of personal shit going on. Every time she texted him, he either responded with one-word answers or he didn’t respond at all.

I don't blame you You should be done with me I don't blame you You should be done with me

Was it naive of her to think he was still her boyfriend after not speaking for four months, Yes. But, she was in love. Kalea finally looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I just didn’t want to push him,” she admitted softly. “I thought he needed space to figure things out.”

Jade shook her head in disbelief. "Lele, I get trying to be understanding and all, but this is next level. Four months without a single proper conversation? That's not space, that's practically radio silence."

Kalea let out a humorless chuckle as she looked back at the pictures of Roman and his ex-wife. “Well, at least now I know why he hasn’t been answering my calls.”

“You don’t deserve this,” Jade whispered and Bianca nodded, agreeing with her. “You are a bad bitch! You can get any man in here that you want.”

“Aht!” Bianca cut Jade off, holding up her index finger. “Not any man.” Kalea laughed as she wiped away her tears.

“Girl, you know what I meant. Don’t nobody want Kenneth's ass but you.” Jade pushed Bianca’s shoulder. “Anyway, fuck Roman.”

I should've waited somehow I shouldn't have pushed so hard I always push too hard And now it's just a blackout

Kalea was grateful for her girls, but in the back of her mind, there was this nagging thought that his ghosting her was all her fault. She should have waited. She should have peeped game. Maybe if she had kept her mouth shut she would have been the one in his arms at the beach.

What the fuck was she thinking? Why had she sent him that fucking text message? She kept replaying the moment she hit send on that message, wishing she could take it back. He had already told her not not fall in love with him, but how couldn’t she?

“Unh-Uh. No!” Jade exclaimed, knocking Kalea out of her thoughts. “You are not gonna sit there and wallow. Him being a dickhead is not your fault!” Even though she and Jade had only been friends for about 4 months, she could read her like a book. “I will not sit here and let you cry over him! No, wipe them tears, and go fix your makeup.” Kalea scoffed out a chuckle as she looked at Bianca who held her hands up defensively.

“You heard her. Go get yourself together.”

SummerSlam August 3rd 2024

kalea_wwe

liked by jadecargill, biancabelairwwe, and 193,867 others

kalea_wwe: so, if I don't win, y'all gon riot right?

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↪kalea_wwe : 🤫

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I should've treated you better Used to deal with lames 'til she ran into a stepper

If looks could kill, Joe would have dropped dead where he stood backstage talking with Paul Heyman. He could feel their glares as he stood there going over tonight's plans. He knew he was an asshole for what he did to Kalea, but he was scared. Her love scared the fuck outta him. Being in love with her scared the fuck outta him. To everyone else, he was Roman Reigns, The Tribal Chief, The Head of the Table, but to her… to Kalea, he was just Joe.

Kalea didn’t care about any of that. She didn’t care if he was the Undisputed Champion or the face of the company. She saw him for him. And that terrified him more than any opponent he had faced in the ring. The vulnerability Kalea stirred in him was a weakness he couldn't afford to have, not with his reputation on the line. He had pushed her away to protect himself, but all he had done was push away the one person who truly saw him.

“Big Uce!.” Joe felt a genuine smile come over his face as he turned to see Josh approaching with his usual easy-going grin.“Whats good man!” Josh then turned to Paul. “OG,” He saw Josh’s eyes shift from his face to behind him. “Wassup with them?” Joe sighed and turned his head slightly to look at Bianca and Jade who still looked like they wanted to kill him.

“Nothing just-” Joe replied, stopping short as he felt all the air leave his body when he saw Kalea walk up to Jade and Bianca dressed in her ring gear. This was the first time he laid eyes on her and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. Kalea's presence stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within Joe, his heart aching with regret and longing. Her eyes met his briefly, a flicker of hurt and disappointment clouding her gaze before she turned her attention back to Jade and Bianca.

He couldn't bear the weight of her gaze, the silent accusation piercing his soul. Joe clenched his fists, trying to suppress the overwhelming guilt. He knew he had to make things right with Kalea, to explain himself and beg for her forgiveness. But would she even listen?

Kalea had a timid smile on her face as she looked at her two best friends. “Girl you look bomb!” Bianca said and Kalea let out a breath.

“How you feeling?” Jade asked, her eyes flickering behind Kalea’s head before flicking back to Kalea.

Kalea’s smile faltered a bit. She went to turn her head to look behind her, to see if Joe was still there but Jade grabbed her cheeks and held her head. “Jade,” Kalea trailed off with an eye roll.

“How. are. you. feeling?” Jade repeated.

Kalea sighed “I feel fine, a little nervous but I got this. You are looking at the newEST WWE Women’s Champion. ”

“Alright now!”

“Oh fuck.” Jade whispered, her smile had dropped and now a panicked look was on her face.

Kalea’s brows furrowed. She opened her mouth to ask what the problem was, but before she could get it out, the problem spoke.

“Kalea, can we talk?” Kalea felt her heart start to beat faster as she turned to look at Joe. He had his hair slicked back into a bun, his new OTC merch, some sweatpants, and a pair of Air Jordan 1s.

“I-”

“She can’t” Biance spoke for her, arms crossed over her chest as she and Jade mugged Joe. Joe sucked in a deep breath already annoyed with Jade and Bianca.

“Kalea?” He ignored Bianca’s statement, keeping his eyes on Kalea.

“I won’t be long.” She said softly to Jade and Bianca. Bianca looked like she wanted to protest but Jade placed a hand on her shoulder and led her away from Kalea and Joe.

I was fine with you bein' one of my hoes, for sure She said she seen us bein' somebody goals, what are those? I thought about givin' you the key to my heart, but it's froze

Kalea walked a few steps away with Joe, a mixture of nerves and curiosity swirling in her stomach. This is it. She thought. She kept her eyes downcast as they made their way to an empty part of the stadium. She could feel his eyes on hers but couldn’t find it in her to look up at him.

“Kalea, can you look at me please?” The emotion in his voice shook her to her core. As she slowly lifted her gaze to meet Joe's, she felt her heart skip a beat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination, making her breath catch in her throat. “I’m sorry.” He finally whispered after a moment of them just standing there, staring into each other’s eyes. “I should have responded to your messages.”

“Why didn’t you?” The pain in her voice damn near broke him. “An ‘i’m alive’ would have sufficed Joseph.”

“Kalea –”

You know the love was X-rated, it's how we made it

“It was because of my text message wasn’t it?” She cut him off. “You –, Because I told you I loved you? That’s why you ghosted me?” She wrapped her arms around herself as if she was bracing herself for his response.

Joe’s face fell as she shifted on his feet, his guilt apparent. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself against a storm. “It’s not that simple,” he began, but Kaela cut him off.

“Not that simple?” She scoffed, her arms falling to her sides. “So fucking me was simple, but loving me isn’t?”

“Kalea that not –”

“No, I totally get it.” She cut him off with a chuckle but wasn’t shit funny. “You were okay with the physical part, but when it came to actually feeling something, that was too much for you.”

Joe took a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain control over his emotions. “Kalea, it’s not that I didn’t care. It’s—”

“Not that you didn’t care?” Kalea rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you cared, you would have faced it head-on. Instead, you just ran away, like a coward. I understand you told me not to fall in love with you, but you shouldn’t have been doing all the right shit for me to fall in love.” Kalea angrily wiped away the tears that fell. “All the dates and the – the little gestures. The way you looked at me, the way you held me. How was I supposed to not fall in love with that!?” She was damn near shouting now and she was grateful the part of the arena they were in was empty besides the two of them.

She needed angles, I need angels, I'm fightin' Satan Leave me faded, I feel painless, I go out gracious I'm tryna feel a shade of greatness by celebratin' Bring entertainment, goin' brainless, like goin' dumb on my hiatus

Joe knew he messed up. He knew it when he ignored her first phone call. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He just wanted her to know how fucking sorry he was.

Kalea shrugged "Sorry doesn't cut it,. Not this time. "

She turned to leave, but Joe reached out, grasping her wrist gently. "Wait, please. Let me explain."

Kalea pulled her wrist out of his grip. “It’s a little too late don’t you think Roman?” Joe’s heart fell to his ass. Roman? She was calling him Roman now? “You had four months to explain. But you didn’t want to explain to me then huh? You didn’t want to answer any of my text messages or phone calls. No, I wasn’t good enough for you. But I guess you’re ex-wife was.”

Joe furrowed his eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute.” She pulled her phone from out of her bra and went to her Twitter, going to her bookmarks page and pulling up the tweet from TMZ. She shoved her phone in Joe’s hand.

If Joe didn’t feel like shit before, he definitely felt like shit now. He hadn’t even seen anyone with cameras that day. Before he could say anything, before he could explain and beg for her forgiveness, she snatched the phone out of his hand.

Kalea's eyes were burning with anger and hurt. "Four months. Four months of silence, and then I see this?” She scoffed, shaking her head as she started to back away from him. “Just –, leave me alone.” She whispered, giving him one last longing look before walking away from him.

Joe’s heart ached as he watched her leave, the depth of his mistakes more apparent than ever. He wanted to call out to her, to explain, to make things right, but the weight of his actions left him paralyzed.

Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done- 'Til further notice 'Til further notice 'Til further notice (we'll keep you posted) 'Til further notice (I'll keep you posted)

WooHoo! Finally

I'm debating on making a part two. But I kinda like how I left it. .. sike, y'all know there's definitely gonna be a part two.

Lemme know what y'all think, this was my first time really sitting down and writing Roman (hope it's not too OOC)

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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*Im sorry if I missed anybody*

#Youtube #roman reigns #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x fem reader #roman reigns fanfic #wwe x black oc #wwe x black reader #wwe x fem reader #wwe fanfiction #roman reigns angst #wwe angst

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gladiatorcunt · 26 days ago

Text

- GUESS | XIII.

you wanna guess the color of my underwear, you wanna know what i got going on down there

cw: kinktober prompt (ass worship), yoga trainer!oikawa, fem reader, rimming, body hair, scent & piss mentions, light implied yandere, public sex (?), hinted possibly one sided iwazumi x reader, light dub con, mentions of fisting, implied that oikawa’s been into reader from the start, semi obsessive behavior, porno plot, self degradation, food play mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Mmh, just like that cutie, lift those hips up for me.”

You’ve been coming to the new yoga class that just opened up at the gym for a while now, a couple months a few times a week, you’re a bit of a homebody otherwise and yoga is the one physical exercise you don’t mind doing often. You like being flexible, able to bend your body in shapes and ways another person would have a harder time doing. And you’re not having sex, so any physically strenuous activity that leaves you sore until you’re put back together by your healing body does wonders for you.

Plus you like the way the leggings hug your well endowed assets, so do a lot of the men in the gym. You wear the form fitting workout clothes for yourself first and foremost, but you can’t lie that a little attention from afar (sometimes too close up by one of the trainer’s usually steps in to help you) boosts your ego. If there’s one thing in life you have to be proud of, at least you have your ass. Squishy and round, jiggles when you walk and never disappoints you unlike everything else in your life.

The same ass that’s raised high in the air in front of your yoga trainer, a more than handsome man in his late 20’s with wavy milk chocolate colored brown hair and a smug twinkle in his eye that’s connected to his smarmy always on his face (even when he seems pissed) grin. You’ll never forget the confidence in his posture, standing tall at the front of the class and introducing himself. Tooru Oikawa, just moved here from japan, his best friend owns the place so it wasn’t too much trouble to get hired, and SO excited to start this journey with you all!

You’ve stayed at the back since then, anxiety swirling in your belly when he’d make the rounds to correct your forms and check on you all. But he’d only pass by with a brisk touch to your back and a ‘good job’, maybe a semi solid pat if you were one of only ones who had a good form, and not to brag, but that’s been the case on more than one occasion.

Now you’re undergoing a little one on one session, he asked you to hang back, noticing you’ve been holding yourself back. You’ve never made much of an effort to talk to him and despite the fact that you’ve never needed this kind of focused attention, he’s been feeling a bit bad that you keep to yourself so much. He doesn’t bite you know, not unless you want him too.

It’s an odd flirtation, something you’ve noticed he never does with anyone else in the class. Oikawa’s attractive enough that you’d balk at him abusing his privilege to drown himself in quickies in the gym’s showers, as off putting as it’d be. But he’s very professional, chuckling at one of the older women making a pass at him and politely turning her down.

So you got in your own head and knew that since there was always room for improvement, surely there must be something he could help you with. So here you are, going through basic poses first before he pushes you into the more advanced ones. You told him that other than increasing your flexibility, you weren’t really sure what other areas would be best for you to get better at.

Oikawa smiled and squeezed your shoulder, no worries, he’ll walk you through a little assesment mini program. Since you mentioned not having done yoga seriously until now, there could easily be something you didn’t even realize needed to be attended to!

“Remember, we want to really feel that stretch, arch your back and lower your head. Breathe in, breathe out.” He instructs, settling a wide palm on your lower back. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’s so close, if you backed up to regain your footing your ass would press up against his bulge. Not that you can tell if he has one right now, but you’re kind of hoping he does. It’s just another part of the fantasy, that’s all this is, you tell yourself. You’re going to soak up the attention, make more small talk as you gather your things and leave, and sit at home suffocating your vibrator until your legs turn into jelly.

“Am I doing this right? My legs feel stiff.” You shift your weight from side to side, your hips gently sway, you could be too in your own head but having Oikawa’s pretty eyes scrutinizing every detail of your body is fucking with your confidence.

He hums, a trail of heat sizzles down your back as he slides his palm down to cup your hip. “If something seems off then it probably is, just widen your stance and put your feet further apart, loosen up your hips. You’re definitely a little tense, cutie.”

Okay so he’s definitely flirting with you, but you don’t startle and shoot back up so you can get out of here. Instead you internally cringe at the squeaks your yoga mat produces, adjusting your ankles to line up more with your shoulders. You keep breathing, in and out, letting your energy flow through your limbs as you maneuver them into the different positions.

Oikawa Tooru burns like a furnace in hell, you realize. Despite having a firm grip on your hip, he’s standing a respectable distance away from you as you bend over. You can still feel the heat radiating from him, his sleeveless muscle tank and his black shorts.

“I think that’s better. Sorry, it's hard for me to relax, I guess.”

“No worries, I totally get it, you do seem like the type to be wound up but that just means we get to unspool your thread and unravel you so we can get to the start and rebuild.” His free hand curls around your other hip, his thumbs absentmindedly stroke the crease where they disappear into your thigh.

This private coaching session is steadily becoming what you’re afraid of, and so horny for you could shoot off into the sky like a soda bottle chocked full of mentos. You didn’t notice when Oikawa got even closer, his blunt hip bones cradling your ass in between them. Could he just be weirdly, and grossly in most people’s eyes, friendly? Does he even see what he’s doing as being the tentative first step into fucking you in a public gym yoga studio?

“Um, yeah, thank you by the way. I’ve felt so much better since I’ve started taking your class, you’re a lifesaver even if I still have a lot to learn.”

“Oh, we all do, including me, believe it or not. I remember you from back then you know, so shy and fidgety, like a baby bunny.”

“You’ve really filled out too. Excuse me for saying this but I know this ass wasn’t always like this, so pretty and plump.” Toned hands drag over the swell of your cheeks, not digging in and kneading the globes, only ghosting their touch along the clothed flesh.

You subconsciously wiggle your hips, Oikawa’s breath hitches behind you, and that is perhaps the most monumental thing you could have achieved today. Flustering the man who gets hit on a billion times per day and gives it back tenfold, a competition of who can keep their cool, that’s how he operates in most things you guess. Like he’s always competing against somebody even if they don’t know, and he just has to win or it’ll be an ugly spot on his record. A record only he keeps and only he sees, but you sense that that’s more important to him than anything else.

“Oh, thank you. I just do a lot of squats every morning and every night after class, nothing crazy. Yoga’s the only other kind of workout I do consistently, anyway.” You're still in what feels like a perverted version of downward dog, briefly taking stock of the strain in your legs now trying to hold the position.

Oikawa makes a surprised sound, “Really? You have such a great body, I’m shocked you’re not a gym rat like me and all my buddies. Some people are just lucky, huh cutie?”

He says it, humble and charming, like he doesn’t also consider himself one of those people. Your cheeks heat up at the idea of a musclehead like Oikawa complimenting your curves, your chubby gathering of fat even in places some people would find ugly, your wideset bones and plush tummy.

A pin drops, “Alright. I think you’ve been in that position long enough, why don’t you go ahead and lower your knees into the table top pose, bring your head up slowly and remember to breathe. In, out, good girl.”

His hands guide your hips down, he steps back to let you settle your knees on the mat. You hear the foam sink behind you, he’s sort of kneeling too, halfway sitting on his legs, the backs of his feet facing the ceiling. Oikawa looms over you like this too, he has a presence you can be lost in before you actually see him, which you definitely can in the wall to wall mirror in front of you. The yoga class was a dance studio before Iwa decided it didn’t fit with his vision, you remember Oikawa telling you all on his first day.

He must feel your wide eyed stare, because he looks up too and suddenly you’re locked in a charged moment.

Neither of you says anything as his feather light touches on your ass become firmer, he’s outright groping you and pulling you back to be flush against his crotch.

He grinds his half hard bulge against you, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror.

“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to notice me, cutie. Been wanting to do this for so long, you have no fucking idea.” He huffs, adjusting his clothed cock to rest between your cheeks. “You’re so hot, every time I saw you bend over I wanted to cancel class and take you right then and there.”

You gasp and rock back into him, shaking your hips and digging your knees into the mat. You have half a mind to look around the room for the camera and porn filming crew but reality is clearly stranger than fiction, your hot yoga trainer’s stiff cock is sandwiched in your ass crack.

He takes his sweet time dragging his length up and down, the tip catches in the divot of your leggings where your hole is, you’re a little disappointed that he’s not humping you like a rutting dog but you suspect that that’s part of the fun. Oikawa knows you want him so bad that he’ll restrain his urge to fuck you through the floor all the way to the center of the Earth just so you can endure some teasing. You’re so shy and withdrawn but those girls are usually the best kinds of freaks, all he’s doing is bringing it out of you, call it another one of his famous coaching methods.

The door’s locked, so if Iwazumi catches on to what’s happening and tries to rain on your parade, he’ll have to listen to a symphony of moans and slick sounds of bare sweaty flesh slapping against bare sweaty flesh. Oikawa laughs and tells you that Iwa’s been eyeing you too, when you check in at the front desk, when you’re getting water, when you head into the changing rooms to get ready for his class, it’d be helplessly cute if you weren’t already taken. Or, you’re gonna be, at the very least.

“When we’re done, I'll clean you up with my tongue and we can go on a little date. I can take you out properly this weekend but I'd hate for you to think that I was just trying to hit and quit it. I’m not the type to pump and dump, not anymore.” He speaks into the divide of your ass cheeks, having sunk to floor fully and doing some bending over of his own to be at eye level with your lower half.

You bite your lip when he starts nipping at you through your leggings, he smiles into the fabric and bites down harder, soothing the sting with slow licks. Oikawa kisses all over the swell of your behind, sniffing the scent of your perspiration and your body oil in between, medicinal vanilla and natural musk. You can see him hump the mint green yoga mat as he reaches up to hurriedly tug your leggings down enough to expose your ass. Your black thong frames it perfectly, but Oikawa pulls them off too and stuffs them under the waistband of his shorts.

He groans at the sight of your bare skin as it bounces free to say hello, taking a handful of each cheek and squeezing the life out of them, the thick flesh bulges between his fingers so he swiftly smacks each one, for tempting him and making his cock so hard it could explode into a blood filled mess of cum and sticky pubes in his pants. You cry out, rocking forward only to be immediately pulled back so he can keep kissing your ass.

He dotes on it like he would your face or mouth, almost giggling before and after quick pecks that develop into long slurps at your rim. He runs the tip of his nose over the hair on your crack, wetting it in messy swipes of his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good, baby, better than pastry i’ve ever had, and believe me, you don’t even want to know how much money i spend at the bakery across the street from my apartment. You’d love it.” He moans, saying hello to your winking hole by dotting barely there kisses right in the center before toying with you, dipping the tiniest bit of his tongue in your walls, then dragging his saliva all over your pucker. “It’d be fun to eat something off you, we could make a date out of it. Go up to the counter and pick which ones would taste the best when I eat it off your fat ass, but I think they’d all be amazing, don’t you?”

You nod rapidly and throw your ass back on his tongue, burning in shame with every smug laugh and grunt as Oikawa beats around the bush so to speak, doing everything under the sun with your ass but properly eating it. You wish you were in your shitty apartment, sitting on his face and drowning out the sound of your arguing neighbors with your slutty moans. He looks up from behind you to check on how you’re doing, and thank heavens because he finally buries his face in your ass and slurps at your puckered hole.

You lose yourself to the experience, feeling his wet tongue fuck into your ass hole and carve out little pieces of you for himself. He pays zero attention to your pussy, which is why it’s so wet and dripping onto the mat beneath you, it’s like he’s too obsessed with your thick globes to even notice, but you don’t hate it. It’s hot to have a guy be eye socket deep in your ass but also have him neglect where you really need his attention, there’s a dichotomy between being the mousey way you’ve gone about your life and the whorish behavior this man is urging you to consider.

You looked fucked out already, hair all over the place from how much you’ve messed with it and lips dropping open on drawn out squeals and whines. Oikawa is eating your ass out like it’s his main job, the one he puts in overtime for and goes above and beyond to be employee of the month at. He thrusts his tongue a few more times before apparently deciding that’s not enough and slipping in one of his absurdly long fingers alongside it.

You whimper, clenching around both as you just sit there in that damn table top pose and let a man you barely know play your ass like a well oiled fiddle. He shakes your cheek in his hand as he digs his tongue into you, delicately fingering your hole until it goes slack enough for him to insert another. You’re impossibly tight, as much as your clit is howling for it you know perfectly well that any serious penetration isn’t possible. From the impressions you got, Oikawa’s packing enough to tear you until you bleed if you don’t use lube or prep thoroughly beforehand, which you’d do anyways but it’s a shame.

Your clit throbs painfully but Oikawa pulls back with a gulp of air to level you with a warning look in the mirror, which only gets you wetter, you twitch again because he’s one of those. There’s a brief flicker of defiance, you could pout and touch yourself anyway, you don’t owe this ridiculously attractive man anything and he’s the one motorboating your ass cheeks and not the other way around, so shouldn’t you be the one in charge?

Then his eyes darken, you get another sharp smack and you table the discussion for some far off occasion.

Oikawa smiles, gently kissing the apple shaped swell of both of your cheeks, “See, I know from your time here that you can be such a good listener, you’re so sweet for me, I know it. You can’t hide that from me just because you want to throw a fit, I said we’d get to know each other afterwards, didn’t I?”

You scoot your ass back in apology, silently begging him to get back to it. He must really be horny too because he dives straight back in, groaning into your rim and french kissing your hole. The hand not doing its best to push its entirety into you kneads your fleshy ass cheek, molding it like dough and separating it from its twin, giving him easier access to your pucker. He ‘tsks’ not even a second later, crooking his two fingers and letting go off your cheek, humming in contentment when it bounces against his face and he’s smothered again.

He wonders if you’ll let him fist you, give you a unique one of a kind rose to swoon over and keep tucked away inside you later, the perfect first date gift from your future boyfriend.

You can even do couples yoga in the morning after your first night together!

“Let’s see if you can cum just from getting your ass played with.” Punctuated by a fourth finger sliding into the knuckle in your ass, he scissors his fingers to stretch you out and playfully acts like he’s gonna sink his whole fist in, pulling out his fingers to curl them into a ball.

The barest hint of blunt pressure on your hole sends a flood of your juices down his arm, smelling somewhat pissy which gives Oikawa truly the most impish grin imaginable.

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spacelazarwolf · 1 month ago

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Qinat Be'eri (A Lamentation for Be'eri) by Yagel Haroush

youtube

Yagel Haroush is a singer, a kamancheh and ney player, a poet, a composer of piyutim (traditional religious songs) and a teacher of Middle Eastern music. After completing his studies at the Jerusalem Academy of Music, Yagel earned a master’s degree in philosophy at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, and was awarded the Daoud Al-Kuwaiti Scholarship for musical excellence. Yagel specializes in performing and composing music based on maqam, the Middle Eastern modal system. He studied the Persian form of maqam, known as dastgah, with Prof. Piris Eliyahu and his son Mark Eliyahu, and Arab maqam with Prof. Taiseer Elias. As a child, he absorbed the liturgical poetic tradition of the Moroccan piyut (religious song) at his grandfather’s home in the southern Israeli city of Dimona, where every Shabbat, a group of paytanim (composers and singers of piyutim) would gather. Later, he delved into the secrets of the baqashot (“supplications”), a Sephardic mystical singing tradition practiced by Moroccan Jews. Yagel’s ensemble, Shir Yididot, performs original reinterpretations of this tradition that situate the baqashot within the broader context of Middle Eastern mystical song. The group released its debut album in 2016. Yagel is also the founder of the Study Center for Makam and Piyut, where he teaches composition and performance, as well as theoretical performance studies based on Jewish sources – philosophy, Kabbalah and Midrash. He also founded the School of Oriental Music in the Negev in the town of Yeruham, and Kedem, a school for composition in the spirit of maqam in Jerusalem.

Qinat Be’eri was written by Yagel Haroush in the month of Marḥeshban after the massacres on 7 October and disseminated on social media. (The text of the qinah here is as shared on the website Kipa on 7 January 2024.) The initial English translation and notes was shared by Yosef Goldman and Josh Fleet. (These notes were very lightly edited for clarity.) On Tishah b’Av, a second English translation was offered by Dr. Susan Weingarten. –Aharon Varady

Eikhah [1] – Alas! my well [2] has turned into my grave. And the day of my light [3] has become my darkness And all fruit has been destroyed and my singing overturned. My eyes pour forth water [4] from the depth of my brokenness.

Eikhah — Israel on a day of calling to God. Life was requested but chaos received Elder and infant wallow in blood. [6] His festival desecrated by a merciless enemy. My eyes pour forth water from the depth of my brokenness.

Eikhah — mothers, girls, and young women Taken into captivity as in the days of pogroms And fences were breached righteous sheep And the dancing ceased and the songs of my singers My eyes pour forth water from the depth of my brokenness

And eikhah — I wonder, you who enobled her — How long shall a nation live in upheaval How long shall her stature be brought low to the ground And now, arise to kindle my lamp [7] And from the wellsprings of your mercy heal my brokenness And my eye [8] that pours forth will water Be’eri

The opening word of the Book of Lamentations, “איכה” — translated as “alas!” or “how?!?” — is often used in Jewish poetry of lament — ḳinnot — that memorialize the Jewish people, from the liturgy for mourning the Temple’s destruction to today.

Be’eri means “my well.” [Be’eri here also refers to Kibbutz Be’eri, the site of one of the massacres that took place on 7 October 2023. — ANV]

A reference to the festival of Simḥat Torah on which the massacres took place. In TaNaKh and Rabbinic literature, Torah is compared to both light and water. “For the commandment is a lamp, the teaching of Torah is a light” (Proverbs 6:23) and “A flowing stream, a fountain of wisdom” (Proverbs 18:4). Also find Shir haShirim Rabbah 1:2.

"For these do I weep, my eyes flow with tears; far from me is a comforter who might revive my spirit; my children are forlorn, for the foe has prevailed” (Lamentations 1:16)

i.e. Simḥat Torah.

Find Ezekiel 15:6, “When I passed by you and saw you wallowing in your blood, I said to you: ‘Live despite your blood’…”

It is you who light my lamp; YHVH my elo’ah lights up my darkness” (Psalms 18:29).

Hebrew, עין (‘ayin), means both “spring” and “eye.”

#jewish #jumblr #jewish music #Youtube

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architect-2015 · 10 months ago

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living the fast life - Alexia Putellas

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‘la reina’ and ‘il prescelto’ two women dominating their chosen sport.

Alexia Putellas a two-time ballon d’or winner Carmen Blanc the current formula one world champion.

Two women compared in the media could not be any close together.

(whenever they are speaking english besides in posts is spoke in spanish, it’s easier to write it this way than to translate everything!)

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June 23rd 2024 (day of the Spanish Grand Prix)

@alexiapnews

alexiapnews: Alexia Putellas seen walking to the ferrari motorhome a head of the 2024 Spanish Grand Prix!

Carmen Blanc (ferrari driver) and the Barcelona midfielder have been linked multiple times during the duration of the last two years, no comments have been made in these rumours.

@yn.alexia: OMG THEY HAVE TO BE TOGETHER!

@fanusername1: girl let them live their lives.

@fanusername2: if they are together imagine the f1 x barcelona crossovers we could have!

@ferrarixfootball: 💙❤️🏎️

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January 31st 2021 (Day of El Clásico)

It was winter break for Carmen Blanco, coming off the back of another successful season in Formula One, second in the Drivers Championship and Ferrari coming third in the Constructors Standings.

Unlike the other drivers on the grid, the Spaniard like to return home to her beloved home city of Barcelona instead of travelling to all four corners of the world.

Being born and raised in Barcelona, her love for football was a big factor in her off season. The Estadi Johan Cruyff might as well be her second home during the winter and summer off season.

Due to her status in the sport community, specifically women in sport, Carmen had been invited to meet the teams after the game.

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Following a staff member towards the locker rooms, the young lady began to feel her palms sweat. She would be meeting one of her idols.

Carmen had always admired Alexia, her loyalty to Barcelona mirrored that of Carmen’s towards Ferrari. Both women being part of breaking the barriers for women in male dominated sports.

Once she had reached the door, she reached up and knocked three times on the painted wood. Cheers and shouts of joy were heard from inside the changing room as the door was ripped open.

Standing face to face with ‘la reina’ was something she couldn’t believe she would be doing.

“Hola, you must be Carmen. I’m so happy we finally get to meet!”

@carmen.blanco

liked by alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 231,567 others

carmen.blanco: always a joy to be back home, this team has my heart. Forca Barca! ❤️💙

alexiaputellas: thank you for your support, it was amazing to meet you.

carmen.blanco: you too alexia, i was completely star struck!

fanuser1: ALEXIA AND CARMEN CROSSOVER!

carmenxf1: the two best women to do it.

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Over the past three months since being introduced Carmen and the players of Fc Barcelona Femení have all stayed in touch, but specifically the spanish captain and the driver.

Having met on multiple occasions for coffee and dog walks with Alexia’s pomeranian Nala and Carmens Dalmatian Lulu. The two had grown increasingly closer to each other.

Currently laid out on a sun lounger in the backyard of her Barcelona home, Carmen was trying to soak up the last of the Spanish sun before her race season begins. A ding interrupts her peace and she leans over to check her phone.

a delicate blush spreads across her cheeks as she rushes into the house to begin getting ready for the night, nervous for what the future holds for her and Alexia.

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oops i realised that for the amount of social media posts i’ve made this is going to have to be a multiple part series.

This spans from January of 2021 to June if 2024 so we’ve got a lot to cover!

i can’t wait to get to Alexia’s first ballon d’or win and Carmen claiming for first formula 1 world championship.

I’m a sucker for a secret romance so 🤭

#alexia putellas smau #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso masterlist #woso one shot

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hairiths · 10 days ago

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𝘼 𝘿𝘼𝙐𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙀𝙍’𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝘼𝙔𝙀𝙍

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝙉𝙀𝙒 𝘽𝙀𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝜗𝜚 (part one)

Cecilia has always been a daughter of God; her family, her past, and her future will always include Him.

However, her family despises her, treating her poorly simply because she is a woman. “They’ve always dreamed of having a boy,” she says, staring at the floor and playing with the fabric of her vest. She then looks up, adding, “and then they got me.” A tear falls down her rosy cheek.

It was mid-June when the Jones family moved to this small town in America, seeking peace after their chaotic life in New York—no more city noise or drama. Cecilia brings her suitcases into her room before running downstairs, where the food is already on the table, ready to be eaten. She sits down and takes her mother’s and sister’s hands, all of them holding each other for a prayer. “May God bless our food. Amen,” her father says. “Amen,” they all repeat.

Gwen, her sister, has never been obedient; she is anything but ordinary. She hates the church, her family, and her life. While chewing the exquisite lasagna their mother made, she is glued to her phone. “Gwen,” Cecilia whispers, referring to the phone and how their parents are looking at her, “put that down.”

“Girls, eat quickly and get ready for bed. I don’t want to be late for church tomorrow morning,” their mother instructs. “And Cecilia, please compose yourself; you’ll look like a boy if you sit like that.”

“Yes, Mother.” Cecilia looks down, straightening her posture.

The sun is shining when Cecilia wakes up and walks to her bathroom to wash her face and do her makeup. She starts with a small amount of concealer, softly patting it onto her face, followed by some blush and brown mascara, finishing with a touch of gloss on her rosy lips.

While getting dressed and doing her hair, the door to her room suddenly bangs open, making her jump. “Where’s my fucking eyeliner?” Gwen screams, rummaging through Cecilia's makeup bag. “Gosh, Gwen, you scared me,” Cecilia whispers. “Here.” She rolls her eyes and hands Gwen the makeup product as her sister snatches it and quickly leaves.

After a little while, both sisters are ready and head to the exit, where their parents are already waiting. Their mother hugs them with a huge smile, while their father opens the door for the three women.

Once in the church, they take a seat and listen to Father Charlie’s sermon. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” Gwen whispers. “Shut up, Gwen,” Cecilia replies, smiling at her.

Cecilia quickly wipes away her tears. “Then my sister came to life and saved me. Even though we had conflicts, we always stood by each other,” she begins to sob. “I miss her.”

Father Charlie looks down. “Is this the reason you haven’t been attending my sermons anymore?” he asks, looking through the privacy screen. She nods. “I see,” he continues, “you’ve missed many of my lessons as well. But I understand; you’ve been through a lot. However, it’s been months already, Cecilia, and you need to be on the same page as the other girls, or you’ll never become a nun.”

“I know…” she nods. “What can I do?”

He looks up again. “Hear me out: you can come here any time after my sermons, and I can give you private lessons. How does that sound?” he speaks softly.

Cecilia’s smile widens at his words. “Yes,” she nods. “Thank you, Father.”

“8 P.M. here, okay? I’ll be waiting.”

EXPLORE THE ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE🤍

© hairiths 2024 — I own only this story and some characters I have created, including Sister Cecilia Jones, Gwen Jones (Cecilia's sister), Lenny Jones (Cecilia's mother), and William Jones (Cecilia's father), among others. I give credit for the remaining content to the series "Grotesquerie" by Ryan Murphy. This is the only platform where I have published the story. Please do not copy or translate it without permission or proper attribution.

#short story #father charlie smut #father charlie x reader #father charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #smut

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eroselless · 5 months ago

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PATO - FIVE

series masterlist | part 3 | part 4

[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]

warnings: pregnancy, angst, breastfeeding, spanish and google translated french

note: Yikes, the way I wrote charles is lowkey toxic, mb lol. This part reminded me of a picture i saw ages ago about how men and women deal with breakups, dudes moving on immediately and end up being sad after a few months and women being sad for a bit and then moving on after a few months.

Anyways, shoutout to my baby sisters for being my main inspiration behind Lucero and for helping me figure out what babies do at 13 months lol I apologies in advance if some things don’t make sense, I tried my best to imitate the way they used to speak and use that for Lucero.

Although not necessary, I listened to this playlist while I did all my writing and editing. It’s a nice bittersweet blend. If you guys wanna give it a listen, I think it would enhance the feelings in this part :)

We’re bouncing a little with the time jumps again but as always, they have the dates so its easier to track :) Happy reading!

MEXICO, OCTOBER 2024

Charles staggers into the hotel room, chest heaving as if he’s been sprinting miles without rest. His chest constricts, each breath coming out in shallow puffs as he struggles to recompose himself.

“Mon cœur?” he hears come from the bedroom and he no longer has it in him to hold back. Alexandra peeks out, eyes full of concern as she approaches the sobbing man. His face is buried in his hands and he would give anything to blend into the wall he’s leaning on. Guiding him to their room, she sits him down, slotting herself between his legs as he grips tight around her middle. His tears soak through her shirt as his body wracks with loud sobs.

Frustration, anger, sadness – they all jumble together in his mind. Alexandra runs her fingers through his hair, murmuring comforts and feather light kisses into his hairline and waits for the sobs to soften before speaking.

"Mon cœur, que s'est-il passé?" she asks, gently pushing his face away from her torso. My heart, what happened? She cradles his face as he looks up at her, silent tears staining his face. “That little girl we met today... she's my daughter. I didn’t know.” His voice is hoarse when he whispers, full of regret and guilt.

Alexandra’s eyes widen at the admission. “Charles, comment a-t-elle pu te cacher quelque chose comme ça? C'est... impardonnable," she says, her tinged with sympathy and indignation. How could she keep something like this from you? That's... unforgivable.

Charles shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut, a few tears still escaping down his cheeks. His sobs are fading in quiet hiccups as he slowly regains his breathing. “No, Alex. It’s not her fault. I’m the one who wasn’t there, it’s all my fault. I didn’t care enough, I left.”

She’s puzzled at his confession, lost in the depth of his sorrow. “What?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

MONACO, DECEMBER 2022

You’re lying partially on your side, arm draped over your bare chest as it rises and falls at a steady pace. He watches as you turn away, hair cascading over your back. The sheets are wrapped just over your middle, your upper body completely exposed to the air. The soft morning light filters through the room and Charles can’t help but think of the events last night.

He can still hear your voice as it echoes through the room, begging him not to stop. He can feel the crescent moons you’ve pressed into the thick muscles of his back. The ghost of your lips still lingers on his skin, like the stain of red lipstick on the collar of a white shirt.

He leans over your sleeping figure, dragging his nose over your shoulder and pressing a ghost of a kiss there. It rouses you just enough to murmur a drowsy protest. “Don’t go,” you whisper and reach out for him, the tips of your fingers barely catching his skin. He is already on his feet.

"I'll be back soon," he lies, slipping out before you can say anything else. He busies himself with mundane tasks, filling his day with errands that could be left for later. He thinks of you, all on your own, in your shared apartment waiting for him to come home. As you always did. He drives across the city, glancing at his phone as your messages roll in, swiping them away almost as quickly as they came.

The truth was, being at home was proving to be increasingly difficult as time went on. His home with you, once a sanctuary, felt like a pressure cooker ready to pop. He loved you, doted on your every move but the constant fear of his career and unrelenting scrutiny of the public had slowly started to suffocate him. He couldn’t bear to break your heart and burden you with his overwhelming amount of feelings. What if he’d never be good enough for Ferrari, good enough for you? With every moment he spent away, he kept sinking into his own mind, choosing to ignore you and your attempts at breaking down his walls. He hated being away from you but he couldn’t help but pack you away into a corner of his mind, where he knew you’d be waiting for him, day in and day out.

He comes home late that night, the guilt of having to face you gnawing at him. It's well after sunset and the night air is cool, the breeze turning icy. He walks through the door, expecting the lights to be off but is surprised to see you leaning over the sink, rinsing off dishes.

Your face lights up when you see him, a tender smile he knows is only for him.

“Cha, you’re back,” you exclaim, turning to face the counter closest to the wall. You pick up a plate, filled generously with a meal that he could tell you spent a great deal of effort on. It’s gone cold in his absence.

He only gives you a small smile, pressing a light kiss to your temple. He can’t help but feel a little surprised at your good mood. But he can’t bring himself to match the enthusiasm you carry in your voice.“I’m not really hungry,” he mutters, eyes not meeting yours. “I think I’ll just shower and head to bed.”

Your smile falters as he moves towards your bedroom, hurt flickering across your face. “But.. I made this for you. You’ve been out all day, I thought we could eat together.”

He forces a smile, trying to appease you and end the conversation quickly. “I appreciate it amour, really. I’m just really tired.”

He can feel your eyes on him as he turns away, heavy with unspoken words. If he knew then what he knows now, he would've stood in that room and held you close. He would’ve tried harder to keep you by his side. He would’ve told you that he loved you. But he didn’t.

She’ll come back, it’s okay, his thoughts echo while he stares at the door as you run into the night. You’re his rock, his anchor. His home. Weeks trickle by slowly and he can feel you slip away as more time goes by. He eventually stops thinking that he can hear your keys jingle in the lock at the front door. Your scent no longer clings to the bedsheets and the lush scented detergent you would buy gradually runs out. He slowly begins placing your things in boxes and taking them into storage where he hopes one day you’ll come to get them. Soon enough, he erases you from the apartment completely and it's as if you were never even there.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles shakes his head, his breath hitching. “I would do that often when I was home. I would lavish her with affection, trying to make sure she knew that I loved her with my whole being but…” he stops, pressing shaky fingers to his lips as if his breath is completely depleted. “I would find reasons to leave, seeking comfort in anything that wouldn’t make me think of what I was feeling inside.”

"Why?" Alexandra asks softly, her hand gently stroking his back.

"I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of losing her, of not being enough. I thought keeping my distance, both physically and emotionally, would protect the both of us, but it only drove her away."

Alexandra's heart aches for him as he confesses. She knows Charles loves her but as his emotions spill out before her, she can’t help but feel like the other woman. She feels guilty as this new feeling is born and grows quickly. He’s confiding in her and the only thing she can think of are the doubts beginning to spiral in her mind. Trying to mask her discomfort she wraps her arms around him, his body relaxing against her as his breath gets smoother.

"You did what you thought was best, Charles. You made mistakes, yes, but now you’ve learned and can move to find a better way forward," she says as her hand rubs up and down his back.

Charles shakes his head. "I was selfish, Alex. I was so focused on my fears that I ignored her needs. I wanted to build a life together, to have a family. I pushed her away, and now... now I have a daughter I've never met."

Alex swallows hard as tears begin to bead in her eyes. She tries not to think too much about what he’s saying. She tries not to think about how this could make or break them. Would he still want to build something with me? Have the family he’s always wanted with me?

“But you're here now and that’s all that matters. It’s not going to be easy but you can still be part of Lucero’s life and maybe, in time find a way to make amends.” She meets his gaze once again. The whites of his eyes are now red, only making the green around his iris look more brilliant than it did before. “Thank you, mon amour. For being here, for listening. I don’t deserve you.”

She gives him a small smile, pushing away the feelings of insecurity that are now growing in the back of her mind. “Nous allons nous en sortir. Juste… ne m'exclut pas, d'accord ? Je ne peux pas t'aider si tu ne me laisses pas entrer.” We’ll get through this. Just… don’t shut me out, okay? I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.

“Je promets,” he nods, pulling her into his arms again. I promise.

Charles is exhausted as he lays in her arms later that night, face pressed into her chest, snug against her heart. Alexandra lies awake in the darkness, the thought of you overtaking her mind. Her hands tenderly brush over Charles’s hair, his deep breaths tickling her skin slightly. There will always be a part of him that belonged to you. And it makes her wonder, with Lucero and you beginning to take your places in his heart, would there still be room for her?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun gently peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You stir from your sleep, eyes heavy as you turn to the sound of Lucero’s cries. You begin to pull yourself up, pushing the sheets off of you. You hear a string of tsks next to you, Carlos gently pulling you back to bed.

“Tu quedate aqui,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “Yo voy por ella.” You stay here, I’ll get her.

You mumble a slurred ok, nodding with eyes still very heavy as you settle back down. Eyes still puffy with sleep, you settle on now propped-up pillows. Pulling at the straps of your sleep shirt, you slip the top off. You watch hazily as Carlos moves to Lucero’s makeshift crib, his steps quiet and measured. He coos at her and you can see her little hands reach out for him, legs kicking in frustration. “Buenos días, mi patito,” he says, cradling her close. “Ya vamos con la mamí, no te preocupes.” Good morning, my duckling. We're going with mummy, don’t worry. It makes your heart flutter as he stares at her with his gentle eyes, pressing a kiss to her hand as it goes to poke at his chin.

He makes his way back to the bed, watching as you adjust yourself in your spot. Lucero babbles, her initial upset fading into a groggy murmur as she nestles into the crook of Carlos’s neck. Her thumb catches on her lip as she tries to suck on it.

Carlos chuckles as he watches her latch onto it, gently pulling it from her mouth. “No, señora,” he says teasingly. No, ma'am. “No thumb-sucking, little miss.” His gaze is warm as he hands her to you.

The room fills with a peaceful silence as Lucero latches on, her small body relaxing in her mother’s arms. She holds on tightly, almost insatiable as she feeds. Carlos climbs back into bed, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze is fixed on the two of you, eyes soft as he sees how devoted you’ve become to your little one, the love and connection strong between you.

He can’t help but feel a sense of awe as he continues to watch you. He can’t help but admire how far you’ve come, the bond between you and Lucero beautiful and pure. The feeling of protectiveness and devotion to the two of you grows every day. He catches him thinking of the babe as his own, his daughter. She meant everything to him and he can’t bear to even imagine his life without her in it. Yet, he knew that Charles had a right to be a part of her life too, no matter how much it hurt to have to share that role. It's a thought that fills him with warmth but follows with a pang of bittersweet reality.

With Lucero’s cries ceased, you gaze down at her. You're engrossed with how peaceful she looks, her little nose pressing into the flesh of your breast, little hands holding you as close as she can. Her eyes are beginning to droop again as her tummy fills up. She sighs in her stupor, pausing briefly before continuing.

You can feel Carlos’s gaze on you. He looks at you in adoration, fingers ghosting over Lucero’s chubby legs. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, sitting up as he does. Taking a deep breath, he breaks the silence. “Do you wanna talk about last night?” he asks gently. “And what comes next?”

The question hangs in the air briefly, heavy with the weight of this new reality. You take a deep breath, mind coursing with different thoughts and emotions. “Not really, no.” You confess with a dry chuckle. If you could stay in this moment, just the three of you, you would without a second thought. “But we need to.”

He takes another deep breath, nodding. His expression is thoughtful as he threads his fingers through yours, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I know,” he says quietly. “I was thinking… If we’re going to do this, maybe we should also think about involving Alexandra.”

You blink in surprise, your eyebrows furrowing. “Alexandra?” you repeat, voice uncertain.

Carlos nods, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I know its complicated, but she’s a part of Charles’s life. If he’s going to be in Lucero’s life, she might be too.”

Your expression is still a puzzled one as you respond. “I hadn’t thought about that,” You admit. “Do you think it's a good idea?”

Carlos sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But I think we should at least be open to it. Lucero deserves to know everyone who loves her. And I’m here, i know it’s not the same but I feel that because of that, she should be there too. We can’t ignore that.”

Your heart aches slightly at the thought, fear and hope swirling in your chest. “I’m scared, Carlos,” you say, voice beginning to tremble. “I don’t want to make things harder for her.”

Carlos leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know,” he whispers, eyes trained on her little figure, still sucking away. “But we need to think about what’s best for her in the long run. We’ll take it slow and be there for her every step of the way.”

Your eyes begin to fill with tears, your grip on Lucero tightening slightly. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if it hurts her?”

Carlos’s eyes soften, and he cups your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “We’ll do everything we can to make sure she’s okay,” he says firmly. “We’ll protect her. But we can’t shield her from everything. She deserves the chance to know her family, even if it’s complicated.”

You nod slowly, heart heavy with the weight of the decision. “Okay,” you say softly. “We’ll try. But we have to be careful. We have to make sure it’s what’s best for her.”

Carlos smiles, his eyes filled with love and pride. “We will,” he promises. He presses his forehead to yours.“We’ll figure it out together.”

Lucero had finished feeding, her eyes now drifting closed as she snuggles against your chest. You look down at her daughter, feeling a swell of emotion as you cradle her closer. Her jaw trembles slightly, a sign she was tired once again. “I just want her to be happy,” you whisper, voice breaking slightly.

Carlos wraps his arm around you, pulling the two of you close. “She will be,” he says gently. “She has you. And she has me. And now, she has a chance to know her father too.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

BRAZIL, NOVEMBER 2024

The sun is high over Sao Paolo when you arrive to the paddock. The air is electric with excitement, spectators slowly filling up the stands around the track. Their conversations create a gentle buzz that echoes above the garages.

Carlos makes his way into the paddock, smiling at photographers and journalists as they wait for his entrance. They don’t miss the small body he holds in his arms and the woman that trails closely behind him, fingers intertwined with his.

Your eyes scan meet the people waiting for you to enter, a delicate smile gracing your lips. Once in the Ferrari garage, you take release a breath, one you didn’t know you’d been holding back.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” you ask Carlos as you’re settled in the back of the garage. A sudden wave of nerves washes over you as you can see a couple photographers clicking away around the garage. “Bringing her here?”

Carlos leans on one of the tables with you, nodding, fingers gently brushing over her wispy tufts of brown hair. “She seems to like it,” he points out as she squeals happily, pulling at the wire that connects to the big headphones Fred passed to her as you entered. “Besides, it’s good for her to see where Charles and I spend so much time.”

You smile, the concern still evident in your eyes. “I just don’t want her to feel overwhelmed.”

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Carlos says, fingers going to lovingly pinch at your arm. You know he’s referring to her but the look on his eyes makes you think he might mean you too.

Lucero spots the red car being worked on and babbles excitedly as she sees the garage technicians checking around the car.

“Cah-loh!” she exclaims, her voice a mix of wonder and determination. “Sí, Lu, un carro,” you correct gently. Yes, Lu, a car. Her attempt at say carro was endearing, the R sound still elusive for her baby tongue. Car. “Es rojo. Puedes decir, rojo?” she claps her hands, ignoring your request. Its red. can you say red?

Carlos chuckles, leaning down to kiss her head. “Lolo’s going to drive el carro rojo, mi amor.” he says to her, pointing to himself and adding a soft vroom as he begins to imitate a car with his hand. He makes almost a flying motion with his hand in front of you before gently whooshing it towards the bubbly baby, tickling her tummy. She giggles, managing to grap his hands and pulls at his fingers. She holds them up to her face, a soft gargle of buh buh buh falling from her lips.

Lucero catches the eye of Charles as he makes his way into the garage, his eyes lighting up as he approaches you. He’s wearing those god-awful bleached jeans again, the odd stripes something you always teased him about. You just don’t see the art yet, he’d often say.

He gives Carlos a side hug before hesitantly leaning over you and wrapping his arms around you. It sends a wave of nerves through the both of you. He lets go quickly before he can think much of it and crouches slightly to meet Lucero’s eyes.

“Bonjour, ma petite amour,” His voice is soft as he speaks to her. Hello, my little love. There’s an eager smile on his face, one that masks the nerves that were bubbling just beneath the surface. It’s one you recognize.

Lucero looks at Charles, suddenly clampering into your arms, tucking her face into your neck. Charles’s heart clenches at the sight. “Muñeca, dile hola a Cha,” you say, his nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. Doll, say hi to Cha.

You poke gently her little tummy, pulling her attention to her father. He smiles at her as she peeks out from behind your hair. You guide her hand gently towards Charles and she meets him in the halfway, her little fingers wrapping around his. “She’ll warm up,” you reassure. “It’s a lot for her, all these new faces and places.”

Charles nods, a slight flutter of uncertainty vibrating through his chest. “I understand,” he says. “I’m just happy to see her.”

Carlos observes the exchange, emotions swirling in his chest. He can’t help the protectiveness and understanding that bubble up as he sees this. He moves away from the table only to have Lucero reach her arms out for him.

“Vienes conmigo, estrellita?” he asks as she pulls away from you and Charles, oblivious to the emotions of the adults around her. Are you coming with me, little star? She points excitedly at the car again, prompting Carlos to get near it. Buh buh buh she tries quietly.

“Bah bah,” she finally manages, voice loud as she proceeds to bury her face into Carlos’s shirt. He lets out a giggle as she does so. “Baba, bluum.” he looks at her with wide eyes, bouncing her in his arms. He glances over at you, jaw slack as he identifies what she’s trying to say.

Charles’s smile falters momentarily. She means papa, he thinks. He masks his broken-heartedness quickly and turns to you. “She seems to really like the cars.” He comments, trying to keep his otne light.

“She does,” you say, glancing between the two men. “Maybe she’ll be a driver someday, like her father.”

“Maybe,” Charles says, his voice sounding like it’s far away. The word father hangs in the air, shrouded in a veil and he’s not sure if you mean Carlos or him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Unraveling the Ferrari Enigma: Carlos Sainz Arrives with Mystery Woman and Baby, Spotted Again with Charles Leclerc at Brazilian GP

In an unexpected twist at the Mexican Grand Prix, Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz was seen arriving hand-in-hand with a mystery woman and a baby, sparking widespread speculation and intrigue within the F1 community. The woman, identified by sharp-eyed fans as Y/N L/N, the elusive former girlfriend of Sainz’s teammate, Charles Leclerc, has rarely been seen publicly, adding to the mystique surrounding this revelation.

Y/N L/N, who maintained a low profile throughout her relationship with Leclerc, has remained a figure of intrigue among fans and the media. Leclerc, known for his privacy regarding personal matters, never publicly acknowledged L/N, making this unexpected appearance alongside Sainz and the child even more startling.

Adding to the speculation, L/N and the baby—whose identiy remains undisclosed—made a second appearance at the Brazilian Grand Prix, further capturing the attention of the F1 world. Observers noted that not only were L/N and the child seen with Sainz, but they were also frequently spotted around Leclerc, intensifying curiosity about the current dynamics within the Ferrari team.

The repeated public appearances of L/N and the child have ignited a flurry of questions regarding their connection to Sainz and Leclerc, and what this means for the Ferrari drivers off the track. Could this development cause tension between Sainz and Leclerc? With the high stakes of the racing season and the close-knit nature of the F1 community, the unexpected appearance of L/N and the baby has undoubtedly raised eyebrows and sparked numerous questions.

a/n: Hi friends! If you’ve gotten this far, thank you so much for reading! Any feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated, they seriously keep me so motivated <3

What do you guys think about this little news item? I enjoyed coming up with the one I made back in part 2, I thought why not make one for this part? Should I keep adding them in every now and then?

tags: @kravitzwhore @janeh22 @apollosfavkiddo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @tremendousstarlighttragedy @sltwins @bwormie @marshmummy @honethatty12 @staplerrrr @smithieandy @loloekie @musicheaux @jeondeluxe111 @dessxoxsworld @xoscar03 @emryb @yl90 @poppyflower-22 @a-distantdreamer

strike through => tumblr won’t let me tag you!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc imagine

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vettelsvee · 7 months ago

Text

BEE HOTELS | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

sebastian vettel x wife!journalist!reader

summary: seb's suzuka biodiversity project goes according to plan... or will he have some surprises that he might reject at first?

word count: 1983

warnings: none of it really! just seb being the standard, as i always write him (almost always, oops). use of y/n y/l/n

taglist: @celemilii bc i wrote this for her as a birthday present! i recommend you to read her works bc she's just like me: we write about the oldies.

The painting in yellow and black tones increasingly filled his hands. Sweat dripped from his forehead, not only due to the sun that was blazing that day in Suzuka but also because of the stress he was feeling to ensure that the project turned out as planned: flawlessly.

Sebastian had spent months not only brainstorming and meticulously preparing for that Japanese Grand Prix weekend but also dedicating himself wholeheartedly the night before to build each of the hotels that his former colleagues were now painting.

He was exhausted, but the feeling of happiness he was experiencing at that moment was immense. The conversations among the other drivers couldn't be more positive. They seemed to be enjoying the process, constantly sharing laughter and jokes among them as they continued with their task the best they could.

While the German was focused on ensuring that everything was going perfectly, he could gradually see, out of the corner of his eye, a figure he knew perfectly well in any form.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?"

Her husband's tone surprised Y/N, who lowered her arms, disheartened, knowing that the hug she was about to give would most likely not be reciprocated.

"I came to see you. What else would I do?" replied the journalist, ignoring Seb's behavior. "And to interview you too, but you already know it."

The blonde frowned, feeling a bit confused by the situation. Interview him? How could there be nothing he wouldn't know?

"Interview me?" he innocently asked.

"Didn't Britta tell you?"

Sebastian shook his head once again. Y/N’s gaze shifted to Roeske, who averted his eyes at the mess he knew he had caused with the couple. The former driver's PR knew that if he had said anything beforehand, Seb would have likely rejected the offer and, most importantly, gotten upset. Besides, he knew that such a refusal would upset Mrs. Vettel, and that would end up in a pointless argument between the couple.

"Well, you know how Britta is. She didn't mention anything about interviewing me today, especially not by you. You know, with so many things she has to keep track of..." Vettel tried to excuse her.

The journalist shook her head and once again looked at the PR, seeking confirmation from his side. A single nod was enough to acknowledge that her client was right.

"Y/N, schön, we need to maintain professionalism," Vettel stated firmly, seeing that neither of the two women responded. "I don't think it's very appropriate to mix our personal life with the professional one. We've always done it this way, and we should..."

"To hell with professionalism, darling," she interrupted, raising her voice. "We've been pretending to be professional for too many years to keep doing it. You've been retired for almost a year, living the life you've always wanted with our children and me," she explained, trying to convince him. "It won't hurt if you let go and be yourself, if we just are ourselves."

Sebastian remained silent for a few seconds that felt eternal for the woman. He knew Y/N was right, he knew nothing would happen if they showed themselves as the couple they were in private, but his shyer side, the most introverted one, the one that wanted to protect his privacy above all and, above all, his family, felt a kind of fear that this would end up making him completely vulnerable to public scrutiny.

"Alright, let's do the interview," the German finally said, causing his wife to start hopping around before pouncing on him and kissing him all over his face.

"Where should we start, Mr. Vettel?"

"What about giving Mrs. Vettel a kiss?" he replied, playing along with the game the journalist had started. "You know, to help ease any tensions..."

Sebastian didn't need to say anything more for his wife to take his face in her hands and pull him towards her, giving him a kiss that lasted not only longer than they would have allowed on another occasion, but also longer than they themselves expected.

They ended up pulling away after a few seconds, just as they began to hear cheers, applause, and comments from the other drivers, who were watching the couple enthralled, as they had never shown themselves in such a way during their years in Formula 1.

"Carry on with what you're doing!" the four-time world champion shouted, trying not to sound angry. "I don't want anything left unfinished!"

Y/N couldn't help but blush and lower her head in embarrassment at all the attention she was drawing.

"Um... shall we start now, darling?" the journalist spoke again, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Yes, yes, of course. Go ahead, ask me anything."

She quickly pulled out her notebook, where she had written down a large number of questions to ask her husband as if she hadn't actually worked hand in hand with him on the project. She tried to maintain professionalism despite the still uncomfortable situation they were immersed in.

Seb, who seemed to notice how tense the woman was, decided to do things a little differently, although it was more than obvious that it took him some effort to take the first step.

Quickly and with trembling hands, he wrapped his right arm around his wife's waist and slowly guided her to sit on the ground next to him. She resisted at first because, deep down, she was also afraid to show herself as she truly was with the love of her life; but when she saw how the German also invited the cameraman who was filming them to sit on the ground, she knew there was no choice but to listen to the guy who initially meant nothing to her but ended up becoming her everything.

"More comfortable like this, right, schön?" Sebastian wanted to know, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, I think it will be more comfortable, darling," she replied, allowing herself to be guided by her husband's behavior, although once again blushing slightly.

With her head resting on his shoulder, the journalist took her notebook in her hands again, flipping through the page where she had the first question of what would undoubtedly be the most fake interview not only she had ever done but probably would do in her extensive career as a journalist.

"Well, let's start, darling. What inspired you the most to start this biodiversity project?"

"Well, as you know, I've always felt a special connection with nature and the environment. Do you remember the conversations we used to have, like, I don't know, about twelve or thirteen years ago?" she nodded. Of course, she remembered. How could she forget when he revealed to her how much the issue mattered to him at his home in Monaco, even before they had started dating? "I wanted to do something to show the importance of biodiversity, so these bee hotels seemed perfect to me."

"And why Suzuka, Seb?"

"Do you really need an answer to that question?" the man countered, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you already knew."

Now it was Y/N who looked less than pleased. Of course she knew why he had chosen Suzuka, it's just that the viewers, possibly, didn't.

"Suzuka is a very special place for me, both professionally and personally," the German continued. "This place has witnessed many important moments of my life, and I wanted to somehow give back everything it has done for me. Its people, I mean," he hastened to add. The journalist laughed at the incoherence of the response, earning herself a playful punch on the arm and some affectionate insults.

The interview continued in such a way that, more than a recording that would be broadcast on various media later, it seemed like one of those informal chats the couple used to have in their room, lying on the bed they both shared, after reading a story to their children and leaving them completely asleep.

Laughs, knowing looks, and even some intimate memories that ended up being revealed to the camera flowed effortlessly. Sebastian couldn't stop playing with Sally's hands and hair, caressing them so delicately that she seemed like a porcelain doll. The journalist, on her part, couldn't stop running her index finger up and down her husband's arm, writing invisible messages about how much she loved him.

"To finish I'd like to know something, darling. How was the process of designing and building each one of those bee hotels?"

"As you already know, and for those who are watching, I was lucky to work with a local carpenter yesterday. We worked on them all day long, and even part of the night. There are eleven in total: one for each team, and one for me," replied the German with a big smile.

His wife started laughing, and her lips twisted in a way that it wasn't hard for Vettel to recognize that his wife was hiding something.

"In fact, there are twelve, Seb," the journalist said with a playful tone.

"What do you mean twelve?" he asked, quite confused. "Love, you were there yesterday. There were eleven. One for each team, one for every two drivers, and another for..."

"I made one myself and I painted it too. Well... some parts are already painted because I asked the kids, secretly, to paint them so you could have a little piece of them here..."

The former driver was impressed by his wife's confession, and he couldn't help but feel emotional. Even a couple of tears threatened to leave his eyes when he saw Y/N, completely excited, getting up from the grass and fixing her clothes before reaching out her hand to him.

"What are you waiting for, Seb? Come on, you have to see it!"

Seb followed her, feeling a mix of very strange emotions after sharing life with this girl for so many years. When they arrived, they stopped in front of it, Britta taking photos from every possible angle and then starting a video call with the couple's children, who were staying with Seb’s parents.

"Schön, this is... God, I have no words. It's incredible."

Y/N smiled proudly before heading towards the structure and start explaining him everything.

"I've drawn us here, right in the front," indeed, there were two larger figures next to three smaller ones, surrounded by flowers and trees. "And here are the kids' drawings. Honestly, I don't know what they've drawn, but... I knew it would make you happy to have a little piece of them too."

The blonde bent down in front of the hotel made by his wife, examining it carefully as he traced with his fingers the strokes that Emily, Matilda, and Ben had made who knows when, and that seemed to have been well hidden. They were simple, clumsy, but he knew that behind them there was something much more important: the purest love he had ever experienced and that nothing and no one could surpass, not even his wife.

"It's wonderful, Y/N. You have no idea what this means to me."

Y/N could only approach her husband and give him a chaste kiss on the lips, not caring this time what happened next.

"I did it for you, Seb. I love you, we love you," she corrected herself, turning towards the mobile phone in front of them that Britta still held, referring to their children, who could be heard excitedly. "You are the sunshine of our lives and you deserve much more than this."

Sebastian didn't hesitate to, once again, kiss Y/N, and then hug her tightly, continuing to give her kisses on her temples.

"I wouldn't be the sunshine of your life if you weren't in it," he whispered in her ear. "You are the sunshine of my life. I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

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deanbrainrotwritings · 9 months ago

Text

month of love 2024 | MASTERLIST

most of these will be 18+ stories that include sexual or dark themes, individual warnings will be added for each one

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 3 FEBRUARY

dream boy [smut, 2.9k]

description — bathrooms can be interesting sometimes.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 5 FEBRUARY

my you [smut, 1.9k]

description — part v of gimme half. the first valentine’s day with dean winchester and he is just absolutely adorable… for like the first half of this fic, the other half is filthy.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 9 FEBRUARY

hero of the half-truth [smut, 3.7k]

description — you can’t decide whether it’s a punishment or not when you go to see soldier boy knowing that he’s trying to keep you safe from everything in his life

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 12 FEBRUARY

hand of blood [fluff, 1.0k]

description — after being forced to be something you didn’t know you were, Dean comforts you as you start learning to live with your new abilities.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 14 FEBRUARY

keep the lights on [smut, 2.9k]

description — I think we should all understand and accept the fact that dean loves women of all shapes, colours, and sizes. because he is a king. my beloved.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 21 FEBRUARY

demonology and heartache [smut, 4.9k]

description — dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 24 FEBRUARY

same book but never the same page [fluff, 5.6k]

description — part III of the love letter collection. still dreamwalking. chasing after someone who can destroy worlds. and dean is jealous of his variants. what could go wrong?

taglist

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

soldier boy masterlist

jensen ackles masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#month of love 2024 #month of love 2024 masterlist #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n

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anxious-witch · 4 months ago

Text

Results and analysis of this survey I did few months ago about the perception of Eurovision among young people. I know some people were interested so here it is. I couldn't post it sooner so it wouldn't look like I plagarised a random tumblr account so! Here we go. These are more or less directly translated from the research part of my thesis.

I apologize for any mistakes made since the whole thing, including graphs and tables were originally in croatian, and given tumblr format, it's bound to be messy.

The age of the participants was 18+ due to ethical rules, but most of the them are young people in the age bracket 18-35, precisely because the opinion of young people who cannot physically be present at the event itself is often ignored. The research question was "How do young people perceive Eurovision?", and the goal of the research was "To see what kind of view young people have of Eurovision, and what they consider its most important aspect, entertainment, politics or something else entirely."

Considering all of the above, the participants, who were 559 in total, were asked 22 questions through an anonymous online survey that was conducted in the period from March 21, 2024 to April 5, 2024.

From this, three hypotheses were distinguished before the actual research;

H1: Young people view Eurovision more politically than the older generation.

H2: Young people focus more on the performance and the message of the song than on the quality of the vocals.

H3: Young people think that Eurovision is a competition for the audience, not for the jury, and that the winner should be decided by the audience.

For the sake of transparency, most of the data is expressed in percentages and due to the amount of data, some of the questions are additionally crossed referenced and compared to see how they interact.

Graph 1 shows the age of the participants, which was important for determining the dominant age group. As can be seen on the graph, the largest number of respondents are aged 18-24, followed by 25-35, which corresponds to the aim of the research, as the focus was on the opinion of young people about Eurovision.

Graph 2 shows the gender of the participants, in which it can be seen that the largest number of them were women, over 65%. The data on the second largest group of respondents was unexpected, as over 20% of them declared themselves non-binary. This percentage was certainly contributed by the fact that the respondents received the survey via social networks, especially Tumblr, and considering that the topic is Eurovision, which is known for its openness towards the LGBT community. Men made up less than 10% of respondents, and the Other category referred to respondents who either did not want to share information about their gender identity, or their gender identity was not part of the first three categories.

Table 2(changed it to graph here because of tumblr) shows the countries from which the participants come from, and this answer to this question was open, that is, the participants had to write it themselves. To make it easier to navigate through so many different answers, they are presented in a table.

Table 2 shows that the majority of respondents are from the UK, Finland, and Germany. USA and Croatia. The number of responses from Finnish respondents is at least partly caused by last year's competition, where their representative was the crowd favorite. As for the large number of respondents from the USA, it can be assumed that with the inclusion of voices from the rest of the world, they became more active in the Eurovision virtual spaces last year.

Graph 3 shows the answers to the question "Are you part of the LGBT community", where participants could answer with "Yes", "No" or "Other" in case they did not want to declare themselves.

As shown in Graph 3, it can be seen that the percentage of respondents who are part of the LGBT community is also influenced by the collection of data from social networks where the LGBT identity is more pronounced, but it does not deviate much from the Eurovision name "Queer Olympics". This is also important information that can be obtained through an anonymous survey, as most of the previous research was conducted on respondents from live events, so this question was often avoided due to doubts about the sincerity of the answers. Thus, over 80% of respondents identify themselves as part of the LGBT community, which confirms previous research on the importance of connecting with other queer people through ESC as an event.

Graph 4 shows the answers to the question "Do you watch Eurovision" where there were three answers; "Yes", "No" and "Ocassionally".

According to Graph 4, it can be seen that the majority of respondents (over 70%) watch Eurovision regularly, while another 23% watch it occasionally, probably depending on external factors. Only 6% of respondents do not watch Eurovision at all, which is logical in the context of solving the questionnaire about Eurovision itself.

Graph 5 shows the three associations the participants had to Eurovision. Sets of three words each were divided into positive, negative and mixed associations, and for the sake of simplicity of presentation, thus entered in the graph. It should be noted here that the majority of respondents still have positive associations related to Eurovision, while slightly less than 17% have negative associations, and only slightly less than 2% have mixed associations. It is also important to note that each association was separated before sorting, so it is possible that someone had both positive and negative associations that were added to one or the other, but if the separate ones were not in a mixed category, then they were not added.

The full question for participants was to choose from 30 songs in the last 10 years (with 3 answers offered for each year) who they thought won that year. The real winners each year are highlighted in yellow in Table 3.

Regarding the recognition of winners in the last ten years, Table 3 shows that the majority of respondents knew the winners. However, it should be taken into account that these are respondents who mostly follow Eurovision regularly, and for this reason every artist who was not the winner that year and has more than 10% of the votes is relevant. This group includes Zlata Ognevich from 2013, Dami Im from 2016, but also Sergey Lazarev from 2016 (most likely because the predictions were in favor of Russia that year, and Austria was the original audience favorite), Kristian Kostov from 2017, and Käärijä from It will be in 2023. Therefore, it is important to look at this table with the predictions of the winners for each year, and to compare it with the difference between the votes of the jury and the audience, but every passing of 10% in this survey is significant.

The full question for the participants was; Did the backstage content (i.e. preparties, interviews, socializing between contestants that is published on social networks) influence their decision on who they voted for. Answers were offered on a scale from "It had a lot of influence" to "It had no influence at all".

Considering the fact that Eurovision organizers invest a lot of money and time in the organization of content even before the competition itself, especially in their famous preparties, it is relevant to see that according to Graph 6, as many as 37% of respondents admit that watching this content directly affects who they vote for, although it is to a lesser extent. Of course, it should be taken into account that 31% of respondents are not influenced by this content at all in their decision to vote, but if we add neutral respondents and respondents who were not influenced by this content, we get about 53%. On the other hand, the total number of respondents on whom the content had an impact in general is about 47%, which means that the content is still quite relevant and good marketing for Eurovision itself, but also for the contestants.

The question for the participants was what they perceive as the main point of Eurovision. Answers to this question were offered, but respondents could also add their own answer. The responses "A mixture of more than the above" and "Political/economic gain" were written by respondents.

According to graph 7, most participants believe that the main point of Eurovision is entertainment (36.31%), and almost the same number think that the main point is for the competing countries to unite around something fun through the competition. While only about 8% of people think that the political and economic part is the main point of the competition. Considering the age of the respondents and the fact that many say that Eurovision is a very political event, it seems that most still focus on the main point as a kind of entertainment and unity between countries.

Graph 8 shows the answers to the question "What should voting look like?".

The answers confirm one of the set hypotheses, which is that young people think that deciding on the Eurovision song should have primarily been the decision of the viewers who vote, and not the jury. It should be noted that the answers offered to this question were "Only viewers should be able to vote", "It should be half-and-half", "There are different winners for the jury and the audience" and "I don't know/Neutral/On my own". In other words, the answer that both of them vote, but that the votes of the audience have more weight, is the answer that 20.57% of respondents wrote under "Other" in different forms.

The question shown in Graph 9 was what participants think the current Eurovision slogan is. There the answer was open and they had to write it themselves. Graph 9 shows that the majority of participants know the Eurovision slogan, which coincides with the number of respondents who regularly watch ESC. It is important to note that for the first time the slogan is the same as last year, which certainly contributed to the respondents' accurate recall of the slogan, which was the goal of the organizers when they decided on this move.

The question presented in Graph 10 logically follows on from the previous one, where participants had to answer which slogan they think best describes the idea/meaning of Eurovision as a brand. In Graph 10, it can be seen that the majority of respondents also agree that the current, permanent slogan of the ESC is the most suitable for representing Eurovision as a brand. Here the answers were already offered, and the slogans offered to the respondents were those that had been used in the last ten years, most of which alluded in some way to community. "United by music", however, incorporates both music and togetherness in one slogan, and it seems that it is precisely because of this that it is memorable and easy to associate with Eurovision.

In Graph 11, participants were supposed to express their general opinion about ESC. Here the answers were also offered on a scale from "Very positive" to "Very negative".

In Graph 11, it can be seen that the opinion of the respondents is mostly positive, over 50%, and even 22% of them are neutral about the view of ESC. Given that these are respondents who mostly watch Eurovision regularly, the assumption would be that their opinions are more polarized, either to one side or to the other. However, through the questionnaire, it can be seen that respondents gravitate more towards "predominantly positive/negative" when the more accurate answer would probably be "strongly positive/negative" when comparing their answers with the other associations and answers provided. When the divisions are narrowed down to positive/negative/neutral, the ratio of positive view of ESC is even more prevalent, and despite a lot of talk about political aspects and contest rigging, less than 1% of respondents have a very negative opinion about Eurovision.

In this question, participants had to answer what they consider the most important part of the contestant's performance, which is shown in Graph 12. This question touches on another hypothesis, and from the answers received, that hypothesis can neither be fully confirmed nor rejected. The answers confirm that the performance is a very important aspect, as predicted in the hypothesis, but the second most important aspect for the respondents is the melody of the song itself, which we assumed would not be so important and that the message of the song would be more important, which is not the case with the respondents . It should also be noted that the answers to this question were again only semi-structured and the respondents could write their answers. "A mixture of all of the above" and "Be a special feeling" are answers that were not offered, but were included by the respondents themselves as their answers.

Graph 13 shows participants' answers to the question of whether they prefer competitors from neighboring countries. Answers were offered on a scale from "Yes, I strongly prefer songs from neighboring countries" to "No, I never have a preference for songs from neighboring countries".

This question was relevant due to the media's frequent reference to the preferential voting of certain countries for their neighbors. The respondents show that this is a rare case, and that only about 11% of them had preferences for neighboring countries. This also coincides with the selection of the song for its performance, as most of the similarities between neighboring countries come through the melody of the song.

This question showed for how many participants the contestant changed their view of the country they represented, which is shown in Graph 14. The offered answers to this question were only "Yes" or "No". There are several studies on Eurovision as a mega-event and an event through which better diplomatic relations can be achieved. (Zahavi, Ariely, 2024) It can be seen that here the distribution of influence is more balanced, but almost 60% of respondents, most of whom regularly watch the ESC claim that their view of at least one of the countries has changed by watching their performance at the ESC. In other words, the large investment of countries in their representatives has its purpose.

This question is a continuation of the previous one, that is, if one of the contestants changed their opinion about a country, was it a positive or negative change of view. Answers are offered on a scale from "Strongly positive" to "Strongly negative".

As can be seen from the presentation on Graph 15, if the 42% of respondents who were not influenced by the competitors are put aside, the positive influence prevails again. However, it is important for which countries there are which impressions, for which reason these data were compared with the following question, which was: "If this influenced your opinion about a certain country, for which country was it?" Then we divided the countries that were repeated the most and compared the positive/negative impressions. For the sake of clarity, strongly positive/negative and mostly positive/negative are added together in the same column and put in percentages.

In Table 5, the data on the positive/negative opinion and on the countries for which the participants changed their opinion are cross-referenced. From Table 5, it can be seen that Slovenia and Finland are the countries most often cited by respondents as those whose opinion has changed to a positive one. Also, a large number of respondents left the country for which they had a positive change of opinion unspecified. It is important to add the popularity of Finnish and Slovenian competitors from last year to the very context of the analysis. As for the negative impression, it is evident that Israel is in the lead, even though 4.29% is still much lower than 11.45%, which is the biggest positive impression, that is still important data. It is an important fact that despite the large investment, Israel has such a negative level of impression, especially as the main sponsors of the ESC. However, this can be added to the hypothesis that young people still see Eurovision through its political aspect, and that the recent conflict between Israel and Palestine has only increased this negative view.

Graph 16 shows the answers to the question of how many respondents discovered a performer through Eurovision, and that they continued to listen to him after Eurovision. From Graph 16, it is clear that this was exactly the case for over 90% of respondents. The answers offered were only "Yes" or "No".

Table 6 shows which performers the participants continued to listen to after Eurovision. The answer to this question was free, and most respondents answered with more than one contractor.

These answers also confirm that positive impressions about the country are closely related to its representatives and fans who follow them even after Eurovision. Here again, you can see the huge influence of the Finnish and Slovenian representatives from last year, who greatly raised positive impressions for those countries. Måneskin also greatly raised the rating of Italy after his victory in 2021, but it should be taken into account that after a few years, fans of a band or an artist have a smaller association of them with that country. It should also be noted that many of the aforementioned artists are not winners, and many of them were not even in the top 3 at Eurovision itself. From this, it can be concluded that there is a difference in what is considered a Eurovision song, and what the interviewees consider in their everyday life to be the songs they want to listen to.

Graph 17 shows the answers to the question about what the participants think about the direct passage of the "Big Five" to the finals. Answers were offered on a scale from "Strongly positive" to "Strongly negative".

From the answers shown in Graph 17, when separating the answers into only positive and negative views about having a direct passage to the final, it is evident that about 55% of respondents have a negative opinion about it, and slightly less than 40% a neutral opinion. This confirms again that the majority of young people do not have a positive opinion about the privileged position of some countries, which is a direct influence of politics.

Graph 18 shows the answers to the question "Do you plan to boycott watching Eurovision this year" with the answers offered "Yes", "No" and "Maybe/I haven't decided yet." Here, of course, it was meant boycotting specifically because of the participation of Israel and the current conflict between them and Palestine.

The question about boycotting Eurovision was deliberately put last, so as not to affect associations and positive and negative impressions. The question could have been more properly asked in the form "Are you planning to watch Eurovision this year" as the word boycotting still came out as suggestive. As can be seen from the responses from Graph 18, more than 50% of the respondents said that they would boycott Eurovision, which does not fit in with the majority's positive impressions about the event itself, which we analyzed in the previous responses. In any case, this supports the hypothesis that young people view the ESC more politically than the older generation, as the majority of younger respondents were more inclined to answer the question about boycotting in the affirmative.

However, it was interesting to compare some of the responses with the respondents' decision to boycott. That is why in Table 5 we have combined the data of the General opinion on Eurovision presented in Graph 11 and the data from Graph 18 on boycotting watching the ESC.

Table 8 shows that almost 30% of participants with a positive opinion of Eurovision planned to boycott watching because of Israel's participation, while only slightly less than 10% of those with a negative opinion planned the same. It can be seen that this trend continues with other answers as well. The fact is that a positive opinion about Eurovision prevails among respondents, but almost 10% more of those with a positive opinion plan to boycott than those who plan to watch. For the same reason, data on respondents' viewing consistency were combined with their response on boycotting in Table 9.

Table 10 compares the age of the participants with their answers about boycotting. The percentages were taken from the number of each of the age groups, and not the total sum, as there were the most respondents in the first two groups, that is, from 18-24 and from 25-35. Nevertheless, this table is important to us because we can see a reconfirmation of our hypothesis that young people look at Eurovision more politically than the older generation.

Now, this is of course, very, very brief look into the whole thesis, without literature citation to back it up and without discussion because it's already way too long. That said, I don't wish to imply that people who said they are boycotting on the survey lied about it, I just thought it was an important look into why someone with generally good opinion on the event would decide to boycott and if age had anything to do with it.

If anyone has any questions, regardless if it has to do with smth being translated confusingly or about the data itself, please let me know! Also consider that this data, while it was overwhelming done via tumblr, also took participants via facebook and instagram and ofc people I know irl and people those people know, so this is not only tumblr mentality reflected either. Hope this satisfied everyone's curiosity!

#eurovision #survey #käärijä #joker out #putting it in the tags if anyone who saw it there the first time wants to read it #y'all!!! I am graduating on the 10th I am shaking fr

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