#all that shit and i still have to write an essay about how what didn't kill me made me stronger or whatever

[blizzposts]

me but its an email to my english teacher that reads:

"hey sorry i didn't do the reading response, five sets of workshop comments, seven daily warm-ups that could be a whole assignment on their own, and essay based on extremely vague prompts that convey nothing about what they actually expect from you (a traumadump in MLA format) that i have to read aloud to eight classmates i've genuinely never spoken to before-----

i'm too busy thinking about every step i take while getting on and off the bus so i don't collapse and faceplant into the concrete, remembering to take my adderall in the middle of a busy school day, hauling keyboards that when in their cases are legit taller than me and possibly as heavy as me, taking 2 makeup tests for gov, practicing for 2 hours a day as required by audition prep, learning how to work a needle and syringe on myself, making sure my hands aren't doing The Thing because they started tingling randomly for the third time since lunch, continuing to put away benches for jazz band despite being fully aware that all the color has drained from my face and i look and feel like i'm actually going to drop dead on the tile floor, trying not to make a face when the orchestra teacher plays one of them real high notes badly just for funzies, noticing that my teeth have moved, ignoring the random flea-bites feeling every 2-5 minutes (there are no fleas, i always check), concentrating on doing my best Normal Guy smile every time i accidentally make eye contact with someone, trying to remember anything that happened last night, trying to remember anything that happened this morning, trying to remember my interests and the events of my own life, attempting to meet the deadlines (next week) for a drawing and a painting, thinking about my sister, trying not to think about my father, figuring out how to tell all my friends i started testosterone, putting words together like legos to attempt to convey the infinitely complex thoughts in my head, saying a bunch of complex words about the kindergarten level thoughts in my head, figuring out what to do for my gov midterm, reminding myself to ask my stand partner what order the songs are in for the 2 upcoming concerts, figuring out why my music maker ipad app won't let me use certain sound packs without wifi, checking if i actually turned my headphones off or if i just thought about it, hauling my ass to bed on time, trying not to just start actually rocking back and forth in my chair in english class (source: nervous, autism), deciding if my fun fact is cool or if it will freak people out, finding out if someone actually called my name from down the hallway or i just hallucinated it, remembering that whipping out the pocket knife to cut my fingernails because they were hitting the keys when i was playing piano is Weirdo Freak behavior, apologizing to my mom for making us late to the bus stop in the morning and not changing the behavior because the behavior is called having ADHD and chronic fatigue syndrome, hauling ass out of bed every morning, trying to minimize the loud obnoxious squeaking of the (broken) wheels of my backpack shitty target suitcase, finding out which teachers know about which diagnoses, finding out which teachers give a shit, reminding the sophomores in my painting class that i am in fact several years older than them, constantly apologizing for the possibility of sounding mean because i genuinely do not know how my words and actions are interpreted by other people, holding back tears like an idiot while apologizing seven consecutive times to my mom who got mad at me for "my really mean tone" that i genuinely was not aware of, being suddenly constantly aware of my tone of voice when i'm speaking (but still having no idea if it's the Right One), and trying to remember all the dwindling reasons why The World Really Is A Good Place.

all with a brain designed to see image and make a silly noise.

tragic apologies,

-marco"

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

--

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

[nonotnolan]

Jock Cock, Part 1

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Adam Johnson, next year's star quarterback and this year's bane of my existence, looked up at me with his baby blue eyes. If he was trying to look small and unintimidating, it would have worked better without carrying 200+ pounds of muscle on a six foot frame.

Well, if he wanted to be melodramatic, two could play that game. "You know full well why I called you here, Adam." I thumped the stack of papers on my desk for emphasis. "You've been failing ECON 105 all semester, but suddenly you can score an 83% on the final exam? It's enough to get you D- in this class. It's not a perfect score, but it's still enough for you to avoid academic probation."

His face flashed with a brief moment of irritation before setting back into his normal, casual stupor. "Well, I wasn't studying before, and now I did. It's not like I scored all that great... sir."

"We both know that you don't know what 'sustainability' means, Adam. You tried to fly under the radar, you didn't cheat your way into a 100%... but it's still cheating. We both know that academic misconduct is a serious crime." I tried my best to sound stern and disappointed, but it was hard to be angry at a face this sexy.

Adam just laughed at me. "And if you could prove it, you wouldn't be calling me into a private meeting, would you?" He leaned back into a shit-eating grin, displaying his dazzling white teeth. This asshole had the upper hand, and he knew it.

"I checked every single essay!" I said, pounding the stack of papers once again. "Every essay, in every single TA's session of this class. You didn't plagiarize... but we both know this isn't your style of writing. And we watched you like a hawk during the exam itself, so you didn't cheat that way, either."

Adam leaned close into my face. "Professor Michaels has no idea that you called me in here, does he? You're just a Teaching Assistant on a power trip, and it's all because you can't stand knowing how I did it." He was right, and I hated him for it. Worse, when he stood this close to me, I could smell the musk of his body.

"Tell you what," he added, pulling off his tank top to reveal a set of firm abs. "You let me get away with this... sign off on my scores, whatever you need to do... and I'll let you live out one of your deepest, darkest fantasies." He struck a pose, showing off both his rippling muscles and his hairy pits. "We both know that you'll never get jock cock any other way. Come on, Teach. You want this."

Was I really that easy to read? "I-- I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Look, if you're going to stick to your lie about studying, then you can just leave. I don't... there's no need to insult my moral character. You're a student, Adam."

He responded by leaning in close to me, and placing his hand on top of my bulge. "Your body betrays you," he whispered, letting his fingers massage my inner thigh. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not your student. Adam and I swapped bodies so that I could take all of his final exams."

"I... yes, well..." That was the last thing I expected him to say, but it would explain a lot if it were true, somehow. It seemed much more likely than a desirable athlete like Adam coming onto me, at the very least.

"Be that as it may," I said, grabbing his hand and moving it away before my cock started leaking though my slacks, "that body still belongs to one of my students. And I still have meetings to attend today, so if we're done here..."

Adam, or the stranger in Adam's body, just laughed at me. "You're the one who wanted to have this meeting, remember? But that's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. But here's the thing-- once you submit grades at end of day, Adam's not your student anymore." He started typing something on his phone. "And honestly, I expected this from you. You're so uptight. Good thing you gave everyone your cell phone number on the syllabus at the start of the year. So if you change your mind... now you can have Adam's number, and a bonus pic from me."

"I know you don't know the real me, but trust me Kevin-- I've wanted to plow that uptight hole of your for months. And in this body, I've actually got a shot at it." The stranger slapped my ass before I could react, and swaggered out of the room. Whoever was inside of Adam's body, they knew my first name.

I looked at the retreating wall of shoulder muscles, and down at the teasing bathroom selfie the stranger sent to me. God help me, I was only human. And he was right-- how else was I going to get jock cock? He wasn't a student, not really, and that's what mattered. "You win. Tonight at 8pm, my place. Bring lube."

Check out Part 2 here. Check out Part 3 here.

[iamasimperyk]

Professor's Pet

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Taboo topic, English is not my first language

Summary: You have a crush on your professor

Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Student!Reader

You knew it was wrong, however, you couldn't help but fall for your professor.

Rafe Cameron. The hot professor every girl on campus had a crush on. You promised yourself you would not be one of those girls, save to say you failed miserably.

Another thing you promised yourself was to never fall for a married man. Fuck. He even had a child.

All the time you reminded yourself that it was nothing but a silly little crush. He had a family, and you were barely twenty.

Still, every lecture got harder and harder for you. He just looked so fine and the way he had with words—it was just too much for you.

"Alright, students, see you next Monday." Rafe smiled, finishing his lesson.

People slowly started leaving, leaving, and you took a big breath before you approached your professor.

"Mr. Cameron? Could I talk to you for a minute?" You asked, feeling how your knees had already gotten weaker.

His smile fell a little, but he nodded regardless, "Of course, Ms. Y/l/n."

"The essay from a week ago, I think you made a mistake with my mark." You said in the friendliest way possible.

"No, I don't think so. The grammar of your essay was rather weak, and I didn't really appreciate the way you chose to write about the topic. The task was to write nothing but information and nothing about your personal opinion." He told you, packing his stuff in the meantime.

"All my other professors never had something against my grammar or my use of words?" You said in confusion.

"Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I suggest you focus on your writing. I am not quite interested in hearing your little excuses." He said with a strict voice before he walked out of the room

You stood there stunned. He never had something against your writing, and he never acted so annoyed and cold toward his students.

Tears swelled up in your eyes, and you quickly left the room, wanting nothing more than to cry in your bed.

You felt like shit. Rafe Cameron couldn't know about the crush you had on him since you never told anyone, and you also tried your best not to make it too obvious—not like the other girls. Maybe he had just a bad day, or maybe, he was really not fond of your essay.

------

A few weeks later, nothing had changed. You saw how friendly your professor acted toward other students, but when you tried to ask a question, he just acted differently. Fuck, he even ignored you every time you raised your hand in one of his lectures.

At this point, you should have accepted the fact that he hated you. But you couldn't.

You stood in front of his office and knocked on the black wooden door.

After a few seconds, it opened, " Oh, you must be one of my husband's students."

There she was, Rafe Cameron's wife. She was beautiful, and she seemed to be nice.

"Y-yeah, I just wanted to ask something about the lecture today, but I will just send him an e-mail." You mumbled with a small smile before you turned around to leave.

After you heard how the door closed, there was screaming.

------

The next day, after everybody left the room, Rafe Cameron asked to talk to you for a moment.

"Ms. Y/l/n, I am sure you had a good reason for coming to my office yesterday, but I would appreciate it if you don't bother me in my free time." He said in a cold tone.

You couldn't take it anymore. It was not a crime to ask a professor a question outside of lectures.

"Mr. Cameron, I tried my best not to say anything, but I can't take it anymore. I was polite to you and handed in every assignment you gave. And you? You gave me bad marks, and everything I do is bad in your opinion," You raised your voice, but he just stared at you coldly.

"What have I done wrong? Just tell me so I can change-" You went on, before he interrupted you," You are the problem. Everything about you is the problem."

You looked at him confused, "What do you mean, Mr. Cameron?"

"Fuck, I mean look at you. The way you look, the way you dress, the way you swing your hips when you walk out of the room, the way you bite down your lip when you're thinking. I can't think about you this way. I am your professor, and you are my student." He told you, pacing around the room.

Your professor, who was also your secret crush, liked you. He liked you in the same way you liked him. But what now?

"I- I don't know what to say now." You muttered and looked away, biting down your lip.

Rafe looked at you, taking a big step forward, and put his hands on your cheeks, "Just one, please."

You looked at him innocently and gave him a small nod. That was all it took before he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.

You kissed him back, your tongues dancing around in each other's mouths.

"Please," You let out a desperate moan, and Rafe quickly picked you up before he placed you on his desk.

He took one of his hands away from your butt and brought it down to lift the hem of your black skirt. Slipping it inside your panties and pushing a finger inside your tight, now wet folds.

One of his hands still squeezed your ass as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, his eyes staring into yours, full of lust, "Who would have thought that you are such a slut for your professor?"

He started to work a second finger inside your tight cunt. Your clit grinding against his palm.

"So desperate, my little whore." He picked up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your aching pussy.

All you could do was moan and whimper. You were about to cum before you felt him retract his fingers.

You let out a sound of disappointment, which he returned with one of his famous smirks. He unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock. He rubbed it against your dripping wet slit before he buried it inside your little cunt.

"Mr. Cameron," You let out a moan that was muffled by another hard kiss.

He started to thrust his hips. Your little pussy clamping around his hard thick cock as he fucked you on his desk.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as your bodies rocked together.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, and all you could do was cry out a small 'Yes, sir'.

He kissed you hungrily, and you could feel yourself nearly at the edge. "Cum with me. Show me what a little slut like you looks like when she cums hard all over her professor's cock." He moaned into your mouth.

You threw your head back as your pussy spasmed. Your hips bucked against him as his orgasm washed over him as well, riding out your orgasms together.

He looked into your eyes again, "You did so good for me, princess. Come on, let's clean you up."

[myhamartiaishubris]

Ben Hargreeves is the worst written best character and I can prove it

This is a poorly organized meta/essay about my baby boy who got massacred. Originally posted in the discord server so some of y'all have seen it already.

Let me be clear: this is a love letter to my favourite Hargreeves boy. I could write him better. I could fix him (narratively).

Here's why Ben is a great character who, paradoxically, was very badly written.

Umbrella Ben

Listen. Listen to me. Ben Hargreeves was, from the moment I saw him, my absolute favourite character. He's already dead? Doomed by the narrative before the narrative even begins? Also, an East Asian character in the year of our Lord 2018?? I was on board. And Brelly Ben gets a lot of good moments! You know that scene where Klaus is in the motel closet, tied up, and Ben says something like, "How does it feel being helpless? This is how I feel, watching my brother piss his life away." Um, hello?? That's such a delicious line.

Because up until this point Ben's been kind of quiet, in that dead broody way, or we saw his young self being soft and reluctant. But suddenly we realize, oh, Ben isn't nice. In fact, he's kind of nasty to his addict brother, and you get this kernel of a glimpse into his character. This is a character who might have been soft-spoken in life, but death and the years since have shredded him down to all his razor edges. He's still that bookish little Ben, except he's not little and he's frustrated, angry, traumatized, and in pain.

And season 2 builds on this! He's willing to violate Klaus's personal boundaries just for a taste of life again. Holy shit that's so delicious. My problem is that, especially in season 2, this isn't explored nearly as much as it could be. Ben's possession shenanigans are mostly played for comedy, when in fact we could be delving into the implications of Ben's character and his relationship with Klaus. You have this character who's kind, who (from what we know so far) represented the "good" of the academy, who loves his brother so so hard and it hurts him so bad to see Klaus hit rock bottom every time. The little "I missed you guys" in season 2? Devastating. And yet despite his goodness he is capable of being a bad person, and he repeatedly hurts those around him (namely Klaus).

So surely this is part of his arc, right? This is going to be explored and resolved. Right?

The Season 2 Ending

So the thing is, I didn't immediately hate the way they had Ben move on / die to save Viktor. I was sad to see my favourite character go, but also excited to see where the writers would take that storyline. Because, obviously, it wasn't over. Right? Obviously Ben's arc isn't finished, he hasn't resolved his frustrations, his complicated relationship with Klaus is never fully untangled, plus the rest of the family never get a moment of real closure with him (except maybe Diego). So clearly, it wasn't over. Right?

Well, in light of season 4, I can confidently come back and say that killing Brelly Ben off here was a stupidass decision.

And here's why: you've effectively splintered his arc in half. Starting from season 3, Ben is an entirely different character, with an entirely different arc that needs to be built from the ground up. While everyone else gets 4 seasons of development, Ben only gets 2, both times. And I'm so not over the fact that his arc isn't over. We saw Ben do some reprehensible shit to Klaus, especially in season 2 with all that possession shit! And we just. Never hear from him again? That's bullshit.

But anyway, since we're here, let's make peace with being here. Hey, Justin H Min is still playing a version of Ben, and he seems interesting, if way different! Surely this will have some interesting implications.

Sparrow Ben

Oh god, Sparrow Ben. In terms of Ben's character writing, season 3 is... fine. Like I said, it suffers from effectively fracturing his arc in half and having to start over, and this isn't the complicated, kind but frustrated and prickly ghost Ben I originally fell in love with. But ok, I do like Justin, and EA rep is still a win to me, so let's go with the flow.

For the most part, season 3 does a solid job. We get some solid beats relating to Ben's ambition and inferiority complex being Number 2. There's a bit of overacting on Justin's part, but hey, that's camp. (I think. I have no idea if I'm using that word right. Am I hip with the kids?)

I really, really loved Ben's moment with Sloane as she's getting married, because it highlights the core of this Ben's character: someone who desperately yearns for family but has forced himself to be all hard shell and soldier. In a way, he's the other end of Brelly Ben's spectrum. (Like forsterite and fayalite - all Mg on one end, Fe on the other.) How much of this Ben is family softness, how much of it is defense mechanism and lashing out?

And then of course - the thing I've been craving so badly - the in-universe comparison to Brelly Ben. This was done... underwhelmingly, if I'm honest. I liked that Ben had a moment of crisis where he couldn't live up to the Umbrellas' dead version of himself, and his moment with Klaus was nice, but in light of season 4 it becomes clear that we could have had more. I wanted him to have an entire arc about it - after all, it's a pretty significant aspect of your character to be "the worse version of yourself from another timeline." (Refer to @vyther16's Gongye Jiwu fic.) I feel like there's a lot of meta you could pull from that, about how your siblings who aren't your siblings look at you and see someone different. Someone you won't be. Someone you can't be, even if you tried, so why bother trying? And they really don't dig through that at all, which is disappointing.

The tentacle samurai fight is badass, though.

Season 4

Oh buddy oh boy. There's so much dumpster fire here, but I'll start with the season 3 loose ends and then move on to season 4's own problems.

1) Sloane. Luther picks Ben up from prison, so I thought they might have an interesting bonding moment over Sloane - after all, they're the two people who cared most about her. But actually no, apparently Ben doesn't give a shit about the one real sister he actually had left at the end of s3.

2) The subway thing. Wasn't he in Korea? My grasping-at-straws ass truly thought that might have been Brelly Ben in the reset timeline, and we'd get a Ben-Ben confrontation or a battle in the minds thing. But I guess that doesn't matter.

3) The Jennifer Incident. So we all know that everyone forgetting about an incident they explicitly reference is stupid, right? Especially because the name Jennifer only exists because they reference it in s3. Ben obsessively draws Jennifer, and then he doesn't recognize or know her? Kill me.

The continuation of his arc is also just sloppy, if it even exists. No more identity crisis about being the worse Ben, no more secret yearning for family or inferiority complex about being a good soldier. Suddenly his arc amounts to, uh, being an asshole and getting hit with sex pollen so powerful it ends the world.

And look, there is a world where Sparrow Ben spiking everyone with marigold could parallel with Brelly Ben's consent problems with Klaus. There is a world where Sparrow Ben dying because of Jennifer could echo Brelly Ben's death in a haunting, tragic, destined kind of way.

But, uh, none of that happens. Here we are, finally getting a Ben-centric season, and it's this. Being relegated to a plot device in your own season. Looking back and realizing that you were always the plot device, even in season 2. Carrying all that tragedy in your little ghost body and being treated like Chekov's waterlogged gun.

And I can't help but look back at season 1, Klaus trying so desperately to prove Ben's existence, and contrast it with the literal next season where a single throwaway line from Klaus sidelines Ben for a whole season. And then he dies. And he dies again.

Fucking hell.

It feels like I'm being made a fool of. Oh, you cared about this East Asian character? You wanted him to have narrative weight and character presence instead of being a plot device for the benefit of his White brothers? Idiot.

Because you'll still be here anyway, right? You'll grasp onto your crumbs for a cool EA character, you'll let us run a character through a trash compactor and keep pretending he's a good character because you latched onto this one East Asian protagonist and you don't want to admit that maybe you should have let go years before.

[barblaz-arts]

Stephanie Beatrice had played my 3 favorite characters (Rosa Mirabel and Vaggie) and since I watched Encanto and B99 I have my head canon that Vaggie have both Rosa and Mirabel personalities.

Any way, I just want to know what is your head canon or theory about her? ( specifically about Lute calling her weak and why the other exorcist hate her)

Since she is your girl, I would love to read your essay about her.(I’m joking you don’t have to write that much I just like to read your post)

Thank you

"My girl"... Am I just "that one artist who's the biggest Vaggie stan" to you guys? (I won't mind it!)

Oh man! I do have some ideas! A lot of my headcanons were already kinda sorta mentioned in my fic/art tho, so sorry if you're not getting a lot of new info

- I have this headcanon that Vaggie's always been "softer" than the other Exorcists, which is what I assume Lute meant when she said she "always knew [Vaggie] was weak". I know it probably has more to do with how little time each episode has, but what if Lute was so ready, already behind Vaggie when she let that kid go, because she knew this wasn't the first time Vaggie spared a sinner? Maybe that was just the first time Lute actually caught her. Maybe she's always had her suspicions, when Vaggie's kill count would lower every year, and she'd sometimes find Vaggie saying a sinner got away somehow despite cornering that demon moments ago.

- although she's gotten used enough to her lack of depth perception when it comes to her hand eye coordination, especially when fighting, i like to think her reading ability could never truly go back to the way it used to be, so she has trouble reading/ writing/texting (if you notice, i always showed instances of this in my fic ;> )But because she's the hotel manager she still has to deal with them because of paperwork and shit, so she has prescription glasses that help. I'd wanted to include a scene in the First Guest where Vaggie almost cries after seeing Charlie thru the glasses for the first time, because she didn't think Charlie could be any more beautiful, but i scrapped the idea because I couldn't expand the concept enough to an actual scene that could be relevant to the overall fic. I probably should have just mentioned it in a paragraph or something, but by the time i remembered id already posted the chapter I intended to add it in. Maybe I'll use it for another fic.

- she prefers femme clothing so she doesn't really have a reason to do this, but she learned how to do all kinds of ties so that she could do Charlie's whenever

- she grew her hair to compensate for her lost wings

- she wasn't exactly a great cook before she Fell, but she was pretty capable when she lived alone in Heaven. Cooking for Charlie tho gave her the motivation to get better and actually enjoy it

- an angel trait that she could never truly abandon is being a stickler for rules. She's very strict on everyone and herself with these things, within reason. So even when she and Charlie started dating, she insisted that they can't sleep together until they've had their third date. When they're on the clock, they have to be professional and avoid flirtatious advances in front of staff and guests. Charlie didn't mind because she prefers privacy too.

- Vaggie's physical appearance slightly changed gradually the longer she stayed in hell. As an angel, her sclera was paler, her incisors duller, and her skin grayer. But as time passed, her sclera got more and more peach/pink, fangs sharper, and skin more purple toned

- i still like to think that Vaggie's old backstory back when only the pilot was out (having died in 2014 in her early twenties who worked as a sex worker in El Salvador) was still true. Maybe it's just because I've liked Chaggie since pilot, and I've grown really attached to that backstory. I also just really don't want Vaggie to be Heavenborn for some reason. Among the cast she just seems the most grounded to reality to me, so having her revealed to have never been human and born "divine" just doesn't seem right to me. I also just think it'd be cute and funny if it turns out she's chronologically the youngest in the hotel even tho she's basically everyone's strict not-mom.

- idgaf what Adam says, I wanna think that "Vaggie" is short for "Evangeline". I used to have these 2 coworkers in their late 50's to 60's who had Evangeline as their government name, but one of them goes by "Vanj" and the other "Vajee". Being older Filipino women who aren't really too fluent in English, they never thought there was anything wrong with that when they grew up with their nicknames. I like to think that the case was the same if Vaggie used to be human. I'm not sure how common English is in El Salvador, but I'm willing to bet it's possible she could have been given that nickname as a kid by an older family member who didn't know a lot of English. Also Evangeline makes more sense to have been the name of an angel cmon now...

[g1rld1ary]

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

feelings {peter parker tasm}

plot: you and peter have been friends since you were both knee height, now that you're both mid twenties you're busy navigating life and also the fact that you're both hopelessly in love with the other.

character: peter parker (tasm) x reader

requested by anon

Aunt May had always had her hopes for the two of you. She could see it coming from a mile away, honestly. She had raised Peter and had practically helped to raise you too since you were always over at the Parkers' house from when you could talk. She watched as you and Peter's friendship blossomed, watched as you helped each other through school, dealing with bullies and crushes and exams. She watched as Peter got and lost his first girlfriend and watched as you supported him through the loss of Gwen. He was there after your first relationship ended in turmoil and tears. She watched as you both got jobs and got places in college, both busy and yet both still making the effort to see each other. She watched as neither of you realised but you both started to fall in love. She had always known that there was something there.

She had tried to tell Peter just to help guide him to you when he was seventeen but Uncle Ben had told her to stop meddling in their nephew's life. "He'll figure it out in his own time, May. They'll realise soon enough." So Aunt May dropped it and continued to watch from the side-lines with a secret smile every time she saw the two of you.

Peter's leg was tapping away as he worked, he could never sit still, "You good, Parker?" You asked him. You were both busy with essays for your separate college courses but you always liked to work together. Ever since you were little you liked doing homework and the likes together. There was something about his presence, it calmed you and helped you focus.

Peter rubbed at his eyes tiredly, the stubble from neglecting to shave for the last few days was a feature you quite liked about him. Hope he keeps that beard, grows it out a bit more maybe. You frowned when you caught yourself thinking it, okay weird. He was your friend - your best friend - nothing more, nothing less. "I'm fine," Peter sighed, breaking you out of your thoughts, "hungry though... Wanna go for lunch?"

You laughed, "Think you mean dinner?" You teased, showing him the time on your phone, "We've been at this for hours."

"Shit, really? Wow... I better give Aunt May a call, let her know I'm okay. You know how she worries."

"Can you ask if I can come for dinner-"

"You're coming." Peter said, deadpan, as he called her, "Hey Aunt May, it's me. Me and (y/n) have been studying and doing essays since 11am and now it's nearly 5pm!" Peter's face scrunched, "What? No. We were writing essays - just writing essays."

You packed your bag as he finished his conversation, "She must've had a drink of something strong," Peter said as he hung up the phone, "She was convinced that we weren't studying. She kept hinting that we were doing something else like making out or something like that! Insane, right?!" Peter's laughter was loud and you didn't know why that hurt so much. Is it so awful to even think? Am I that unappealing to you? You forced a laugh as these thoughts spun through your head, "I mean, that's insane, right?"

"Absolutely." You nodded, smile falling as you grabbed your bags. Why did you care so much? You had no idea. You didn't know why you were so hurt by his comments. Peter was your friend, that was all... right? Surely there wasn't anything else there, right? Right? You cleared your throat, "Uh, you know, I actually forgot I have plans to get dinner with my family today, Pete." It was a lie and Peter could tell. He always could tell, he didn't need enhanced senses to know when you were lying.

"Oh," he frowned, "Are you okay?"

You nodded quickly, "Fine, yeah. I gotta go though, I'll see you later. Give May a hug from me." Quickly you darted out of the library before he could ask you anything else. Peter watched you go, confused and a little hurt. You had lied to him and that upset him more than anything. Why were you lying to him? Had he hurt your feelings? Peter didn't know but he was going to figure it out.

You had been avoiding Peter a little bit for the rest of the day. You were just trying to clear your head. You'd come to the realisation that you liked him... a lot. You didn't know when the feelings started or why today you were realising it but you realised as you couldn't stop thinking about him. You couldn't get Peter and his dumb laugh and stupid haircut out of your head.

Peter had been calling and texting you for the last few hours and was barely getting a response so he knew where you'd be. He knew that when you got upset and things got overwhelming, you'd be on your apartment buildings roof watching as the sun set. You knew that he'd find you, you didn't mind, you knew that sooner or later this conversation would have to happen.

He found you in your usual spot, sitting with a blanket and some coffee, "Hey," he said quietly, offering you a smile and extending his hand to show you his peace offering, "god you a donut from Sal's that you love..."

With a smile and a 'thanks', you took the donut from him and began to eat it. He sat beside you, stretching his legs out and dropping his bag to the side, "I think we need to talk," he said after a few moments.

You nodded as you finished your donut, "Yeah," you said, clearing your throat, "yeah we do."

"Look, I don't know what I did earlier but I'm sorry-"

You didn't know where the sudden burst of anger came from but the words were being yelled from your mouth before you could even realise, "Is the thought of being with me so repulsive?!"

Peter jumped back, taken aback, "Wh- What?!"

"Earlier!" You snapped, jumping up making him stand up too, "You thought it was hilarious and insane when May suggested we be together! Here I am realising that I care about you and you say shit like that- Shit." You slammed your hand over your mouth, whirling away from him as your heart hammered hard in your chest. You hadn't mean to explode like this but he'd really upset you earlier and you just couldn't keep it in.

"Are you saying that you've got feelings for me?" Peter asked, voice soft and gentle; calm despite his racing heart and despite your previous tone, "(y/n), speak to me."

"I-I-I don't know!" You wailed, head in your hands, "I don't know! I- I think so? I mean, I've just been feeling stuff that I never normally feel and I look at you and I get literal butterflies. I thought that shit was made up in Disney movies but I find myself smiling when you say my name, I feel excited when you smile at me... Yeah," you laughed incredulously, "I'm saying I've got feelings for you."

Peter was silent for a few seconds as he took in all of what you just said and then he said the most heart-breaking thing he could've said, "Oh."

And there it was. Peter's reaction. Oh. Your heart sank. Of course he didn't feel the same, of course he didn't. Why would he? The two of you were best friends so of course he didn't see you like that and now it was all fucked. You had just ruined your two decades long friendship over developing feelings for him. If you hadn't told him, if you'd have just shut up and kept quiet then you wouldn't have fucked everything up; things would be normal and you'd both be happy.

You pulled back immediately, putting your walls back up to save yourself any further embarrassment or upset, "I'm sorry, uh, never mind! Ignore everything I just said, it was a joke! Ha! Got you..." You gave a pathetic attempt laugh as tears burned at your eyes, "It was all just a joke!" Peter seemed to come back to reality as he saw you were getting upset. He said your name but you were shaking your head telling him to forget it, it was all a big joke, a laugh, it was fine. Peter knew that it wasn't a joke, he knew that what you'd said was real and he felt awful about upsetting you.

"(y/n), stop," he said loudly, cutting you off of your 'it was just a joke' ramblings, "I'm sorry for saying 'oh' I was surprised that's all! It wasn't a negative reaction or me rejecting you."

You looked at him, cheeks burning and tears slowly making their way down your cheeks, "Then what does it mean?"

"It means... holy shit, I can't believe you have feelings for me. I never thought you'd see me like that!" He grinned widely, "I've had a massive crush on you for forever."

Your jaw dropped. He had a crush on you? "Then why'd you say oh you stupid oaf!" You hissed but the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

"I-I was surprised! I never thought you'd ever like me back!"

"Of course I do," you said, "Pete, you've always been there for me. Always been so kind and you're so funny and... I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

He smiled at you, "I didn't think you'd ever feel the same... You're way outta my league, you always have been." He sat on the stone wall, patting it so you'd sit next to him, "We've been through a lot together, haven't we?"

You laughed, "You could say that again."

Silence fell and all of a sudden you were fifteen again crying into Peter's arms after your first boyfriend broke up with you for someone else. Then you were six and fake marrying Peter whilst Aunt May shook her head laughing. Then you were twenty getting into college and celebrating, ending up hungover and crashing at Peter's apartment for a night. Then you were eighteen finding out that he was Spider-Man and fainting from the shock of it.

He nudged you, breaking you out of your thoughts, "So what do we do now?" He asked quietly.

You shrugged, "I guess you take me out on a date," you suggested with a smile, "that little Italian place downtown. The one with the garlic twists."

"A date?" Peter smiled, "I can do that."

You looked at him, turning your body to face him, as his brown eyes caught the sun. You'd always known that he was handsome but my god, it was like you were seeing him in such a different light. The way his eyes looked like dark honey in the sunlight, the way his lips quirked upwards, the way the wind tousled his hair to perfection.

Peter couldn't take his eyes from your face. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmured quietly, eyes going between your eyes and your lips, "Can I-"

You cut him off by pulling him to meet your lips. It didn't feel weird. It didn't feel unnatural or anything like that... It felt... normal; right. It felt good. It was a simple kiss, only lasting a few seconds, but it was the best kiss you'd ever had. It was so full of emotion, so gentle and sweet and soft and you just melted into his embrace.

When you pulled away, neither of you could keep the stupid lovesick grins from your faces, "Aunt May is going to have a field day with this one," Peter laughed softly, "she's been trying to get us together for years."

[sidsinning]

I could write an essay about how much I love my GOAT Toji seriously

Like he represents everything a jujutsu socerer shouldn't be and uses EXACTLY those traits to solo both the socerers and the curses they work so hard to exorcise

The fact that he has NO cursed energy at all, what made him worthless in the Zenin clan's eyes, was exactly what sealed all their fates in losing to him is an INSANE twist to pull

(Yes there's Maki, but she feels more like she's trying to work within the system despite her limits (like the glasses she wears to adapt), unlike Toji who is totally free due to overwhelming raw senses alone)

His introduction opened up a whole new way to see the power system of cursed energy while making complete sense with what has been established, for me at least

(I wasn't super interested in the jjk power system personally until Toji showed how its strengths can be the user's own weaknesses if exploited properly)

He is an iconic infamous stain on both the socerer world inside of JJK and to one of the most important characters which kicked off the whole plot

He EASILY solo'd the world's most powerful socerer at the time- someone who represents everything that is the opposite of himself- with base planning and strategy

Didn't break a sweat the entire time

But despite all this power he has, despite the reputation he has for his strength, despite seemingly killing the world's strongest socerer at the time- the man was a deeply depressed and jobless bum

He is not any happier before or after his assassinations are done

Feels good in the moment then he's back to his life doing nothing but gambling his money away until the next job

This man who has beaten everyone of every age and species now in the series (he said these hands are rated E for everyone) was actually a WIFE GUY

He was living a shitty life in his clan who abused and feared him but found fucking LOVE and turned his ENTIRE life around for ONE PERSON to be a normal man, even having a child with her

And after she dies he spirals into deep depression, to the point he is incapable of being a good father; he knows on some level that his mental state is so bad he couldn't take care of Megumi properly- THAT is how DEEPLY he loved this woman

HE SOLD HIM THO WHICH IS TERRIBLE

BUT AGAIN

Showing how he's shit (making money from it) but also tries in his own way (I'm too mentally fucked up so a proper family should take care of him)

Then just looking into Megumi's eyes during his zombification knocks his consciousness back into himself, showing if there was one thing he truly cared about during his final moments, it was his son

Then sacrificing his life for his son in the end without asking for anything but his name to rest in peace

BUT ALSO HE MURDERS EVERYTHING WITHOUT REMORSE LIKE?

THE JUXTAPOSITION????

Literally kills teenagers and even during his final moments and his comeback he doesn't give a shit

Like he did a crazy anime fight to kill Gojo which was brutal but still a cool magical fight to watch

Then he fucking snipes a teenage girl in the head with a gun

A plain gun

No crazy stunts

No regrets

THE GOAT? 😭

ALSO THE WAY YOU CAN TELL GEGE LOVES HIM LOL

You could easily write his zombie ass out of the Shibuya Incident Arc but the man wanted to draw him again so bad he made room for necromancer granny to kick start the GOAT's return for a hot sec

HIS FIGHTS ARE SO COOL LIKE HE DON'T GOTTA RELY ON ANY SOCERER SHIT JUST HIS HANDS AND AN INVENTORY ON HIS SHOULDER ARE ENOUGH ITS SO RAW THAT HE CAN GO HEAD TO HEAD WITH WIZARDS AS JUST A DUDE AND WIN

[myidlehand]

I've once again seen a post on my dash about how Joey had to "fight" for Jaskier being queer this season.

I didn't reblog it cause I don't want to target one post in particular but people who make those posts need to understand this is factually wrong and just keep the hate towards Lauren growing for no reason.

It was Lauren who approached him. Joey said so himself. He praised her in many interviews for going that road. He worked with her on making sure it was done right, his words again (he seems quite aware of LGBTQA+ culture and maybe his sensibilities are a bit more "up to date" than the average straight person. If Lauren and most of the writers are straight, it seems logical for them to struggle to make it not cliché and for Joey to help make it something the community would like more, but that is just my theory).

But he never said he had to fight for it as much as people say he did, on the contrary. He said in at least one interview that it was very collaborative. From what I understand in some of his interviews he possibly wanted more control over Jaskier's journey this season but he certainly didn't have to fight for it. People seem to have gotten that idea from Joey's "essay" but at no point did he say it was to fix what they did. He obviously had an idea of what he wanted to do and asked for re writes and cuts in the dialogue to add more music. Every interview where he mentions this he pretty much says he was helping and collaborating with the writers. This sounds pretty normal to me as every actor on this show (Henry in particular) seems to be allowed to participate with the writing of their own character.

I know most of the fandom loves to believe all the good parts come from the actors and all the bad ideas come from Lauren (she obviously hasn't always made good choices and I'm not excusing her for the mess season 2 was) but this is just deforming what Joey actually said and taking some of the credit away from other people.

I love that Jaskier is pan. It's one of my favourite parts of the season. But it was not just Joey's idea it was Lauren's as well. Credit where credit's due. She's not as bad as the fandom makes her to be and she's a big reason why season 3 is so good. I don't love the way she try to sell the show as something never seen before because it still is mostly adapted from the books but nobody can argue when it comes to Jaskier that she made him a lot better than Dandelion (who I love to death but he's a little shit and I think Jaskier is a much more interesting character).

[citruscitrushope]

Why Ken Shiraishi is Still Written OK (aka why Vivid BAD SQUAD will never surpass RAD WEEKEND, and why that's a good thing)

An essay I wrote in someone's Twitter DMs as we discussed their belief that Ken's writing has been becoming out of character ever since On Your Feet, and my attempt to present a counter-argument that turned into an analysis of VBS stories up to this point.

1,089 words, warnings for swearing, spoilers, and the fact that this is barely formatted like an essay at all but was just a ramble I thought I gave some good points in and wanted to share.

So bro is openly going against the things that made rw what it was ("ok Toya make all the songs" <- that is not what happened with radder)" and I doubt bro would be full on ignoring it (nor clpl full on ignoring it seeing as they have all of the group's full stories planned from the beginning) and I personally theorize that it's to emphasize the four's strengths as well as to make them come face to face with their weaknesses to grow stronger (I think concerto is the most obvious case of this). Nagi's goal with rw wasn't to make something to be surpassed, it was to pass radder's dream to the next generation to reach the heights they couldn't (i.e. worldwide popularity) and I very much feel like the vbs story has enough backing them going in that direction (Toya's wl chapter, what I've seen of radder flashbacks, even Ken's whole reason for opening weekend garage).

For context, the preceding conversation was about how Ken has been going against a lot of his initial things (Running weekend garage to help the next generation, helping them not work as hard, etc), how he knew Taiga was gonna tell vbs the truth of RAD WEEKEND and that he should first but he didn't, and then how he's been overworking the kids and going against the team effort rw was by radder

Again, clpl kinda suck at writing vbs sometimes but dammit they ain't bad at foreshadowing, they teased Nagi stuff for a year or two before lutf and stuff after all. Plus they've never had a sudden decline with a character, it took two years for Mafuyu's mom to fully be revealed as bad, and even with Taiga that was a solid year. (Now what they do do a lot of are sudden "redemption arcs", sure the Otori brothers' was decent but all the times they've tired to have Shinodad or Toya's dad grow as people has been so bad like bro some people are just shit).

Plus vbs' story has been slower than most of the other units until this current arc (hell they took the longest to end their first arc), slow building blocks to surpassing RAD WEEKEND. So for this current arc to have them saying "our next event will surpass them" so suddenly just doesn't add up. It has to be a red herring. And again, Taiga's been this game's only true betrayal arc, others have been characters going from neutral to bad (Mafumom, one-off characters) or ones meant to be bad that eventually become allies to their respective groups (Arata, Iori, Otori brothers). Taiga going from an explicit ally to an enemy is an outlier, and I've noticed that they usually won't repeat plots and stuff in this game (well outside of Smile of a Dreamer and Our Happy Ending but I think that was on purpose).

I highly doubt that vbs' ending will involve them surpassing RAD WEEKEND, they're probably the only group who's initial goal hadn't changed over time (L/n "I wanna be with my friends again" -> "We wanna be pros that touch others with music". WxS "Let's save this stage" -> "let's travel the world to make our dreams come true" n25 "i need to save mafuyu" -> "she's seemingly saved but shits still tucked"). Even MMJ's which has seemed to always be "Let's be idols and give hope to others" has had steps to go through, it wasn't instantly "Let's perform in the dome" it was "Let's be idols" -> "let's do a live show" -> "let's do a solo show" -> "let's perform in the dome". VBS hasn't been like that, it's always been "let's surpass RAD WEEKEND" and never been anything but that, so their progression has just been them saying "this'll get us closer to surpassing RAD WEEKEND" with little to actually show for it.

It's a lofty, impossible task, and I think Ken and Taiga know that, but they view it in different ways. Taiga sees it as "you'll never live up to it give up stop trying" while Ken's is "you'll never live up to it but that doesn't change that you're still talented performers". Even though how characters always compare each other to radder (An and Taiga seeing Nagi in Kohane, Taiga seeing Ken in Akito) , they're not radder, they'll never be them, and I feel like that's what the story wants to have them and the audience eventually realize. That's what Nagi wanted, right? To have the next generation do what she and the rest of radder couldn't, to keep singing and to be known around the world. They've already contrasted how both Taiga and Ken have attempted to keep Nagi's wishes alive before (i.e. the whole "Don't tell An until she's ready" thing), and Ken handled this better than Taiga but both weren't the best at it, and vbs had to find the strength themselves to keep going. Taiga did it in a brutal and dream-crushing way, while Ken's was gentler and more honest but came too late, and I feel that they wouldn't get rid of that contrast with Nagi's other dream. Taiga ran off and became famous overseas, but never fully processed his grief. Ken is encouraging the next generation, but still isn't doing it perfectly.

So I feel that Ken's plan is to show vbs *their* strengths. The ones only they have. Not in the context of reaching radder's level, but in reaching their own, and truly fulfilling Nagi's wish. He's not doing it perfectly, he's overworking them severely, but I highly doubt that this is purposeful. Again, I just don't think they'd make the dilf have a villain arc.

But nothing anyone has done in response to vbs's dream has been perfect. Even from the main story with akitoya and Kotarou sabotaging Kohane, to Arata in sbd, to Taiga to Arata in bfby, and then lutf is obvious. It's a messy tale of unprocessed grief and unfiltered dreams, things that can lead to both triumph and tragedy. But I truly can't see any malice in Ken's actions, or even Taiga's to an extent. While there obviously was some there, to him I assume it was to protect the legacy of his sister and to not tarnish her swansong.

I don't fully know where I was going with this but all in all I think Ken has good intentions albeit with unintentional extreme expectations, VBS was never meant to surpass RAD WEEKEND, and the vbs story's messy pacing lately is purposeful

[asongofcrownandshield]

As someone aiming for a diplomatic career, and who has always studied the History of the world, more precisely wars and genocide, I must say: human beings are not learning from their own stupidity. The crisis in Rafah is absolutely expressing that and it is concerning. Frustrating. Upsetting.

What is happening is a genocide. We were upset about the Shoah. We were upset about Rwanda (and not enough). We were upset by the Uyghurs (again, not enough). We were upset about a lot of genocide. Why are we not upset against Israel, when part of their history is to be populated because of a fucking genocide??? (I know the History of the creation of Israel. The whole thing. And it sucks. I could write an essay on why the whole thing was fucked up since the beginning).

Are our countries supporting Israel because they are rich? Yes. Are they supporting them because we — ancient colonial powers and the UN — helped in the creation of their State? Also yes. And it is pathetic.

The fact that governments such as the US, the French, and a lot of Western countries are not acknowledging a genocide, is absolutely not normal. The fact that we are basically still financing and selling bombs to drop on the Gaza stripe, and most importantly today, on Rafah, is unsettling. For countries which are proud of their democracy, which are proudly saying in their foreign policies that we should not support violences, war crimes, censure, they are absolutely doing the contrary. All in virtue of money. That's how the world run but money should not be above human rights.

How is it logical that people are being killed, and no one is doing shit?

How is it logical that we are banning social media for spreading the truth on the international situation?

How is it logical that students are being arrested for protesting for basic human rights? For peace? How is it normal that places such as universities, which are supposed to support freedom of expression, we can see students and teachers are not allowed to talk? Reuniting around a common cause?

How is it logical to still defend a State such as Israel and to not acknowledge they are doing something deeply wrong, deeply evil? How is it normal that it took us, as an international community, more than seventy-five years to actually act?

1.4 million people are in Rafah. 1.4 million people have nowhere to hide. Are waiting to be evacuated. Are waiting to die because of our inaction. How is it normal?

We fucking need to act. We fucking need to speak and to shake our institutions. As a new generation with brand new ideas, Palestine should not be left alone anymore. What we are starting should still go on. Until Palestine is free, from the river, to the sea.

We need to boycott Eurovision. The Olympic Games. Because if we are letting Russia not participating because of the invasion of Ukraine (normal), then, Israel should not be allowed in moments like these when they are basically currently killing thousands of people.

As Macklemore said in Hind's Hall (all funds are going to UNRWA, please stream it):

"What if you were in Gaza? What if those were your kids?

If the West was pretendin' that you didn't exist

You'd want the world to stand up and the students finally did, let's get it"

Free Palestine. All Eyes on Rafah.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Take a Break - P.G

Not me writing my first ever shot in Tumblr while having a mental block from all my exams at Uni and how hard they are.

Anyways, English is not my first language but I try and do my best. Hope you enjoy!

-------------------

"Amor, I'm home." Your boyfriend's voice rang through the house "¿Amor, estás aquí?"

You could hear the sound of his training bag hitting the floor and it made you extremely happy but still ignored it.

Nothing was going the way you wanted. And that didn't make you happy, at all.

Waking up this morning without him by your side, wasn't the best way to wake up, you can add up the fact you were exhausted, especially since all you've been doing at College was exams, essays, simulations, more exams and more essays.

Sighing once more, you typed away the result of the Boole equation you've been doing for the past half hour

"¿Amor?" His voice came once more "Ya llegué del entrenamiento"

You knew about it, he texted you. Twice. One, when he was done and the other, when him, along with Pedri, who was once more, his ride, were on their way, to yours. And you saw it. But you left him on read.

You couldn't think anything else than numbers, precisely 0's and 1's.

You groaned when you saw another point in your exam. You've been doing this ever since you woke up, only making some coffee and going at it.

"Baby" His voice sounded closer and closer each time but you didn't care. You needed to be done with this as soon as possible before the time runs out. "Amor"

You felt him before you heard him.

His hands were on your shoulders, his chin rested on top of your head quickly leaving a kiss there.

You didn't realized you let out a big sigh when you felt his hands on your body. The tensed back, was slowly giving into him. Soon, meeting his hard chest

"Hola" He said moving his hands so they were at your waist and his chin on your shoulder, moving his head a bit so he could kiss your cheek lovingly

"Mhm" You hummed not taking your eyes away from the screen.

Your hands stopped typing, looking for his and intertwining them once you found them, slowly analizing the other questions

"How has been your day, love?"

"Mhm" You heard Pablo sigh, before detaching one of your hands and closing the laptop "No, no, no! What are you doing? Pablo, I need to finish that!"

"You weren't paying attention. I asked you, how has been your day?" He let go of you and turned the chair around making you look at him

"Sorry" You said taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. "I'm a bit stressed. Can't get this shitty exam done, I've been doing it since I woke up. And I don't even have half of it done. And it's due to 23:55"

"That sucks" Pablo said as you nod inmediately at his words. You were left in silence for a few minutes "Have you eaten?" You looked up at him "Honestly"

You closed your eyes and sighed for the hundred time, slowly shaking your head no.

"Baby" Pablo began talking but you shook your head even more, cutting him off.

"I know, I know, but I really don't want to hear it, Pablo" You say slowly "I just want to snap my fingers and have all of my homework done"

Or the semester, it sounds good. Even better, the whole degree.

"I know you want to. I want it too. It's doesn't make me happy knowing my girl is under stress and feeling unhappy because some rude professor" You hummed with a light smile on your face.

His girl. You loved it.

You leaned into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and snuggling your face into the crock if his neck, smelling the particular soap smell along with a bit of his cologne

"Already showered?" He nods acepting you in his embrace.

"Wanted to come home and just snuggle with you" That made you smile but soon it was cut off by a yawn "Still sleepy?"

"No tienes idea de cuanto, amor" You replied pulling away from him a little. Your hands going to your face "I'm so done"

"C'mon, amor. Don't say that"

"I really can't understand shit from this, Pablo. I'm just gonna let sink in the fact, I'm going to fail this exam"

"No, no, no. You're the smartest girl I know, bebé. You can totally do this. Show that ass who's the boss"

"Not me, definitely" Pablo sighs after hearing your words

"You always say stuff like this but end up killing it"

"I don't think this is one of those times, cariño" You sigh turning around to open your laptop but Gavi pulls a hand on top of it "Please, let me just open it and send whatever this thing I have here"

"You need to take a break, love, but I know you can do this. Don't give up"

"I won't take a break meanwhile I haven't submitted this, Pablo"

"But you will"

"No, I won't"

"Sí, lo harás"

That's all he needed to say to pick you up and carry you towards the couch, trapping you in between the leather material of the couch and his strong arms.

"Gavi" You whined "I'm just tired, I have done within' yesterday and today a total of two essays, two simulations and three exams, all I want is end this one soon. It's better if I do it now"

"No" He shakes his head "I know you'll be kicking yourself if you do this later, it a stressed-you who's talking. Not the super smart and applied girl I know and love. I know your exams have only one time avaliable submitment. If you load it now you won't be able to correct it later"

"I won't correct that thing ever again! I won't even look at the result! ¡Será un 0 por el pecho!" (It'll be a zero straight to my chest)

"You're stressed. You're blocked. That's all you have. Relax"

"I really can't relax, right now; Pablo. I-"

"you haven't kissed me welcome" He cut you off "Where's my kiss?"

"Pablooo" You whined once more "Let me go and load it"

"I give up" He says "I'll let you" You mentally clapped and danced of joy "...But give me my kiss first"

You fought the need of rolling your eyes.

"Will you-?"

"I will let you go and submitt el jodido exam if you kiss me"

A kiss from your boyfriend never sounded bad. So, you smiled lightly and leaned up a bit and kissed him

But you should've known better.

Gavi's kisses where everything to you, they make you weak, you loved feeling his lips against your own.

So, what started as one kiss, turned into two, three and four and out of nowhere a full on lovingly makeout session was happening.

You don't know how long you were into this but you weren't regretting it.

Feeling loved and taken care of by Pablo, was the best feeling in the world for you. You knew he was so in the right but your hard nature was fighting it so bad.

Until you couldn't take it.

His hands gripping your sides lovingly, hands moving up to your (his) hoodie and giving light touches to your naked back, meanwhile, yours danced across his clothed covered back, arms, chest and ended up circling your arms around his neck.

"I love you so much, mi princesa hermosa" He says against my lips pecking them repeatedly before full kissing you once more

"I love you too, mi niño precioso" You whispered in between kisses gaining a smile from him.

The kissing session returned for a bit, a few minutes actually, when you abruptly separated from him.

"What the-?"

"Cállate, por favor"

You closed your eyes thinking of something before you opened them with a tinkle inside them

"Get up, get up, get up, get up!"

"¿Pero qué pasa, mi vida?" (What's wrong, mi vida?)

"It's making sense now!" You yelled happily almost tripping over Pablo's legs causing you to yell a bit

"¡Cuidado, nena!" (Look out, baby!)

"¡Estoy bien, estoy bien! I'm good!" You say running up to your laptop, pencil and stuffs to finish your exam.

Meanwhile, Pablo walked over and sat in front of you, watching you with a smile on his face and slay your exam when half an hour ago you were so close to giving up.

Thank god, he knows you too well.

Let's just say, he ended up chanting in your face a big 'I TOLD YOU SO' when you told him your calification.

Both of you are so happy and in love. You cannot imagine a life where Pablo isn't there with you.

And he thought the same way.

[ribread03]

pool day. bsf!Nick(platonic) x reader x crush!Matt PT.2

warnings: Smut, fluff, teasing, Head m receiving, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

AN: Finally getting around to writing part 2 of this. Also Im doing this rather than writing an essay for my English class lol.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He suddenly pulls away looking at your neck. His fingers brush over the spot he was just attacking with his mouth. "Hope you have some make up with you" He says as he turns around and leaves you there on the counter, alone, after he built up all that tension.

Getting off of the counter you change and walk up to Nick's room to say bye to him. "Bye Nick, I really need to go. Thanks for the bathing suit again." You say before you hug him and head out to your car.

When you reach your car you remember about the deep red, and purple marks on your neck. You are really hoping Nick didn't notice them, but it's Nick so he probably did. Slapping yourself in the face you back out of their drive way.

~~

Walking into your house you drop your bag and head straight to your bathroom. Turning the shower on, -the water being a thousand degrees-. Stepping into the shower you relaxed into the hot water. Grabbing your phone you open the music app and turn on your shower playlist.

About 5 minutes go by and you get a text from Nick. "Shit" you say out loud. You open it not really know what to expect. When you open it you see a photo of Matt but its from far away. Along with the photo is a text that says "This dude has not stopped talking for the past 2 hours. Wanna tell me anything?"

Stepping out of the shower and texting him back you don't really know what to say because you cant tell Nick that his brother gave you hickeys in the bathroom, and was praising you about the way you looked in the bathing suit that Nick got you. So you just reply with a simple "I don't know why he is like that. Idk why you are asking me?"

"I DONT KNOW Y/N. MAYBE BECAUSE YOU WALKED INTO MY ROOM WITH HICKEYS WHEN YOU CAME TO SAY BYE! GIRL AND YOU WHERE ALL FLUSHED TOO..." Nick quickly responds to your lame excuse for a lie. "and after you left I came down stairs to see Matt talking to Chris and you'll be happy to know it was about you."

Walking into your room now blushing from embarrassment and the fact that Matt was talking about me, I try to come up with a good reply to send Nick but I really can't think of any before another text pops up on my phone. It's Chris, the message is not what you expected "Matt only seems to be talking about you btw, and he's really blushing... what did you do with my brother y/n?"

Not know what to say to either of the brothers you decide to tell them some. How Matt said that you looked good in the bikini that Nick gave to you and that you should like it because it made your body look good. But you didn't tell them how he gave you the hickeys and how he left you sexually frustrated and having to deal with it on your own in the shower before they wanted to start blowing up your phone.

Nick is now blowing up your phone even more than before. Asking you to tell him everything because he knows who gave you the hickeys. "Tell me everything y/n! But not to much... that's still my brother you're talking about." So I go on to tell him everything, still in my towel.

~~

Now you are fully dressed, between texting them and trying to get dressed you've lost track of how this even all happened. Deciding to text Matt to ask him what the fuck just happened, your phone pings in your hand. Rolling your eyes you open the text and smile a little when you see it is from Matt. "Im coming over, be there in 5." You didn't expect him to be this up front and out of no where with this type of text.

"Ok.. front door is unlocked just come in." You text him back. Now you're rushing around your house to straighten it up, first your living room, then your room and bathroom. Running around your house going from room to room. Changing into your nice pajamas you go to the kitchen to get a snack. Then you hear the door open. Thinking to yourself that 5 minutes went by really quick.

"y/n?" you hear Matt say from the door.

"In the kitchen!" You say loud enough for him to hear but making sure to yell.

You hear Matt start to walk over to you. Feeling his presence behind you, you turn around to face him now. "Hey." He's standing over top of you, close enough to you to feel the heat coming through his clothes onto your body.

You can feel the tension building "Hi" You say just above a whisper. Not wanting to ruin this little moment

"What are you making?" He questions.

"I was just getting a snack before I headed back to my room to watch a movie, but you text me so I didn't go back to my room." You slightly ramble trying to make up and excuse to figure out why he is here.

"Sorry, I can leave if you had plans to do something." He pauses for a moment. "They were just really starting to get on my nerves." Referring to his brothers makes you think back to the text messages you were getting not even 45 minutes ago.

"Matt, you can stay." You say stopping him before he starts to ramble on.

"You sure?" He ask just trying to be nice but now you feel like this conversation is started in drag on.

Taking Matt's hand you lead him to your room. Going to your bed you flop down with the bag of chips in your hand. Matt is now looking at you standing 5 feet away from the bed. Patting the spot next to you inviting Matt to come and sit, he does.

"What movie you wanna watch?" Trying to ignore the throbbing that is going on in-between your legs now.

"Its up to you honestly, whatever movie you planned on watching before I came over." Matt say.

"Oh, ok then." you say a little surprise about what he said because he always wants to pick the movies or he's doesn't really get into them. So putting on your cheesy romance movie you scoot closer to him so he can have some chips as well. Feeling Matt flinch when your thighs meet sends tingles up your back for some reason.

~~

About 45 minutes into the movie you feel someone looking at you. You know who it is but you still decide you look over at Matt. When you eyes meet he doesn't look away, instead he crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes go wide for a moment defiantly not expecting him to kiss you like that. Kissing him back your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, pulling lightly on the hair at the base of it.

This makes Matt moan into the kiss, sending shivers down your throat. Taking this as your chance to move so now your straddling him. Feeling is hard on under you, you pull away. "This okay?" You ask before slowly moving your hand down his chest down to his dick. Never breaking eye contact with him as he nods his head yes and pulls his bottom lip in-between his teeth.

Your now palming him through his pants. A moan escapes his lips making you clench around nothings. Watching as his eyebrows push together you slide your whole body down, so now your face is level with his dick. Unbuckling his pants you look up at him asking him for permission with your eyes. He nods yes again. You continue to unclothe his lower half until his dick springs up out of his boxers.

Your eyes get big when you see how big he really is. You have heard rumors about his size but you thought that people were over exaggerating, but you were wrong. Looking back and forth between his eyes and his dick.

His tip is red and leaking pre cum just from you touching him in his pants. Puckering your lips together you let a little drop of saliva fall on his tip. This action making him whimper and head fall back. Slowly bringing your thumb up to the slit you slide the saliva down the length starting to pump him a bit before taking his tip into your mouth.

Matts hands go right to your hair when you fully take him in your mouth gaging a bit when he pushes your head down by mistake. "K-keep go-going." He moans out when you hollow out your cheeks. Humming before you pull off of him. Matt letting out a despite cry when you do this makes you giggle a bit.

"Dont worry Matt, you'll get there." You say before grabbing his hand and bringing it down towards your heat, and where you needed him the most. Moaning when he slightly touches you through your panties.

"Can I touch you y/n?" He ask making sure its ok even tho you moved his hand there.

"Yes Matt, pl-please touch me" your practically begging to have his fingers in you at this point.

With this Matt moves you onto your back so that he is now over top of you. Pulling you panties and tiny shorts down throwing them somewhere on the floor. He brings his fingers to your clit moving them fast making you arch your back and start moaning his name.

You feel Matts finger suddenly insert into you causing you to moan his name. "Ma-matt k-keep going. Pl-please." Begging him to let you cum. His fingers move faster as he is trying to get you to your high.

"There you go. Come on, cum for me y/n" Feeling the coil snap as you cum around his fingers. Moaning nonsense as you come down from your high.

You wanted nothing more for Matt to be inside of you right now. "Matt?" you whisper

"Yeah?" He says in-between kissing your neck.

"Im ready, can we.." You trail off but Matt knows exactly what you mean as he pulls his shirt off and helps you with yours.

"You sure?" He ask again.

"Yes, just please, I need you Matt." begging for him to be inside of you once again.

With this Matt Slowing starts to play with your entrance with his tip. Slowly he starts to slide into you. At first its painful due to the sheer size of him but slowly it turns into pleasure. Once he bottoms out your both whispering messes, feeling his fill you so much. He fills you more than anyone ever has before.

Trying to rock your hips against his he takes this as a sign to start moving. Thrusting into you Matt groans as he starts to move faster. Your hands find his hair and tug lightly. Moaning his name and other nonsense of sounds coming out of your mouth.

Feeling close to a second high you squeeze around him. "Matt, Im close." You manage to get.

"Me to princess."

The word princess is enough to make you cum all over Matt dick. Moaning as he is still pounding into you chasing his own high. The stimulation is becoming to much as you try to pull away, but Matt's strong grip on your waist hold you down onto the bed. "Matt, cum inside of me."

With your word Matt is cumming within seconds. Falling on top of you catching his breath as you catch yours. Lifting his head Matt plants small kisses all over your face. Pulling out of you, you whimper with the loss of him being inside of you.

Once you two have both catch your breath, you finally decide to ask the question that's been killing you since he text you. "Matt? Why did you even come over here in the first place?"

He rolls over to face you. "To be honest y/n.. I really couldn't stop thinking about you, and Nick saw the hickeys and wouldn't stop bothering me about them because we went to the bathroom at the same time."

"I mean, you did give me the hickeys. Hes not wrong about that." you say with a giggle.

Planting a kiss on your lips Matt gets up from the bed and walks over to the bathroom. Coming back out with a damp washcloth in his hand to help clean you up. Smiling to yourself as you watch Matt pick up the clothes and throw them into your dirty clothes bin.

"Can I spend the night with you?"

"Of course Matt."

~~

After a little while you and Matt decide to watch a movie, falling asleep not to far into it. Tangled up in each other's arms, not a care in the world.

~~

Walking up to giggles in your room, you are met with a camera in your face with Nick and Chris behind it. Putting your hand up to block it you roll over and snuggle back into Matt's chest, giving Nick and Chris the finger at the same time.

Matt is awake not even two minutes after you are. Now whisper yelling at his brothers to get out so you can get dressed. This causes them so shout and whistle at Matt as they walk out of the room.

After you and Matt gets changed, Matt walks out of the room to go and talk to his brothers. You have no idea what he is saying to them so you have no choice to sit and wait for him to come back.

About five minutes go by when you hear Chris yelling your name. "YOU AND Y/N!" Now really curious about what is going on you quietly walk out of your room and peep your head around the corner.

You see Matt smiling blushing like crazy, Chris is still shocked at the fact his brother made a move on you, and Nick is sitting there fake gagging while giving his brother a high five for making a move.

You see Matt starting to walk back so you go to turn around and go back into your room like you've been there the whole time. "Where are you going to miss y/n?" You stop in your tracks and turn on your heel.

"No where.." You say with a slight smile which gives away your lie.

Matt grabs your hand pulls you closer to him. "y/n, y/l/n... Will you be my girlfriend?" You gasp at what Matt just said. Wiping your eyes you nod your head yes

"Yes, yes! A million times yes!" you say throwing your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss.

Gagging is coming from the next room. Nick... of course he is gagging at us. Running over and hugging Nick you thank him for the bathing suit that just got you a boyfriend and sex. Gagging in response he hugs you back.

"Hey! I pushed him to go into the bathroom with you..." Chris says feeling left out. You go over to him and whisper in his ear. "Did you also tell him to leave me high and dry in there?" backing away from him he's smiling. Hitting him on the arm "You're such an ass"

You feel hands grab your waist now. You turn around a meet Matt, giving him a quick kiss, and earning a gag from Nick. You say bye to the boys and walk out to the car with them. "Bye, Ill be over tomorrow."

"Okay" Matt says with a cheeky smile, winking at you.

"Bye y/n, see you tomorrow." Both Nick and Chris say at the same time.

Watching Matt pull out of the driveway you smile to yourself, thinking about how lucky you got to have Matt in your life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN pt2: This literally took me so long to write and idky but I hope you like it. This is my first time writing smut so Im not sure how I feel about writing it yet so bare with me.. anyway I hope you liked this. OKAY BYE<3

[rusquared]

drabble idea so i can enjoy the act of sharing my thoughts without the time investment of writing shit down:

han sooyoung stopped writing. she couldn't hold a pen with the same careless ease anymore. not after everything that her own hands had caused. she can grade essays and she'll even bicker with dokja about the quality of the random books he picks up. but she won't write. she still flinches when joonghyuk brushes past her and is so real. she won't write.

joonghyuk pisses her off, as usual, about something or the other. in return she leaves a sticky note on top of an embarrassing gift for him. something petty and annoying. joonghyuk tries to ignore her. so she starts leaving them on his door. "yjh is a bastard" "supreme king, 33, unemployed" etc. they increase every week and yjh, for all his cleanliness, never removes them.

sometimes she gets risky. "yoo joonghyuk will do as i, han sooyoung, command". she pretends she didn't already do this to him in two separate worldlines. "today, the supreme king shall make tteokbokki for the black flames empress" "tonight, the supreme king shall not complain about the dishes being done" "this week, the supreme king will not say no to karaoke night"

something about referring to him in the 3rd person is funny, and she keeps it up. but she finds herself leaving sticky notes in her room, too. "what does it mean to be an actor?" "young girl. creates underground fight club" "what's a good magic system in a world based in space?"

han sooyoung never prided herself for creativity, or passion. she just knew how to write, and how to write well (ignoring the one time she wrote in the sloppiest, most verbose, and most passionate way possible). so these little notes don't mean anything to her. it's nothing of note. the view from the window just looked interesting this afternoon. "kim dokja still uses government name in online forums" "yoo sangah -> sadist? enjoys arguing with senators" notes. notes. notes. she's just making observations, is all.

without the avatar skill, and with the system barely there, her mind is quiet. no predictions being made. whatever plot comes to mind is no longer the most probable or best written.

one day, dokja bursts into her room to complain about something or the other. she's asleep at her desk. in front of her, the wall is a rainbow of colors. dokja can't peel his eyes away. what he had always reached for. what none of the other books, as good as they were, could give him. tls123's writing.

it's disjointed and mixed, multiple plot ideas picked up and dropped, no coherent order to it all. but he gathers as many as he can without her noticing, and tiptoes to his room. joonghyuk, watching from the doorway, says nothing. he places the tea he had prepared next to sooyoung's sleeping figure and covers her with a blanket.

when sooyoung slips into dokja's bedroom on another sleepless night permeated by what if he's not there?, she freezes. he has placed all the sticky notes he could gather on his own wall. lovingly arranged in order. some even having miniature sticky notes of their own with his thoughts and questions. the boy so hungry for her stories went ahead and pieced them together on his own. han sooyoung won't write again. but kim dokja will always be her #1 reader.

[divinelolita]

i wanna laugh and i wanna laugh rn😪

its been so long(literally a few days) since i sent smthhh

ill boost u bae dw

AHEM

mk so the whole band(um seperate fic duh) with a bf who be freakishly nice n shit(i feel like ivd sent this bf dont expose me if i did) like if a band member accidentally hit him in the face he would say sorry and say some dumb shit like "im so sorry i shouldn't have been in the way of your elbow. " like what💀💀

or if someone was trying to confess or smth he'd be like "i really don't want to hurt you but no." maybe even as a band memeber is right next to them

and arguments with this mf is probably hell like if it was a band members fault he would accidentally make them think it wasn't and it was his(sometimes its on purpose but they figure it out later) OFC these r examples use what u want🧍🏾

BAHSBDKDBDO I CANFT STOP LAUGHING ON THE FIRST ONE

THE BAND X EXTREMELY NICE READER

teehee i have an essay to write but ummmmm that doesn't matter rn 😇 uhh also if it's bad sorry idk what's going on with me

BILL:

・He's so confused how you can be nice all the time

・He really does try to be nice but he just snaps sometimes omg 💀

・He wonders when your breaking point is

・Like if he turns around carrying something and wacks your fucking face he's so confused why you're not YELLING at him

"Yeah and then- *WHACK* -OH SHIT M/N I'M SO SORRY ARE YOU OKAY?! -"

"No, no Bill I'm fine! It didn't hurt that much."

"..what."

・He just stares at you with his jaw dropped low, slowly nodding to himself

・Or like if he knocks something over and you apologize for it

(I've done that so many times...)

・Reassures you it's not your problem 🤞

TOM:

・nahh you got him FUCKED UP bae.

・He doesn't understand how you can be so nice, I feel like he's a brutally honest mf 💀

・If your in public and somebody is being rude to you and you're just kinda standing there, still staying calm???

・He's just looking at your features trying to find ONE small piece of anger or frustration

・I feel like y'all are couple opposites.

・Like he'd obviously have a soft spot for you 🤗 but he doesn't see the reason to be nice to others when he knows it's not his fault

・Arguments with him oh my god...

・If you keep apologizing and saying it's your fault he eventually sits next to you to comfort you, assuring you everything's okay.

"It's not your fault, M/N. I promise.."

・You'd somehow warm him up a bit, he barley notices himself becoming more kind and carefree.

GEORG:

・was his color green or blue omg i can't remember

・He's...so confused.

・Like if he accidentally smacks you with his elbow and you aren't crying or cursing

"M/N? M/N ARE YOU-"

"I'm okay! It just stung for a second haha..!"

"..."

"..."

・He gets you but he doesn't.

・He just can't see himself being so giddy and happy and nice.

・Anger turns into confusion in arguments, why are you so mad at yourself?

・Loves you so fucking much though, always reminding you that you are amazing and didn't do anything wrong.

GUSTAV

・AHHHH HE GETS YOU!!!!!

・He understands you so much oh my god, he just loves you even more now.

・He'd also try to keep you from blaming yourself.

・Like if he knocks something over and you apologize.

"Oh shit I'm sorry I should have moved it-"

"No honey you're fine, I should've looked where I was going.."

・MWA MWA HE LOVES YOU

・Very slightly confused on how you never snap, how you always keep calm

・He wishes he could be like you bae 💔💔

・In arguments he just tries to calm himself and you down, actually sitting down and talking about how you both feel

OH SHITTT I NEED TO DO THAT ESSAY