#and have the same person writing everything

[fading-event-608]

photo by @ChuckModi1 on twitter, link to the original

I'm writing a new post because old ones don't get reblogged as much - as if the need for donations goes away the moment post is 4 days old. And even if they do get reblogs, they don't translate to donations.

So. This is a new post for Falastin even though nothing changed. There's literally nothing new to tell, all the horrors are still the same as they were a week or a month ago and they still could die any moment. But saying everything once again:

24 family members

displaced more than 50 times

family has many martyrs, last one less than a month ago

need funds for daily essentials (food, water, medicine) and tent materials + clothing for the winter

have raffle for hand-made Palestinian thobe (!! link !!) - 6 days left as of posting this

There have been 9 donations in the last 24 hours, and 3 the 24 hours before. 125 and 17 usd raised respectively. THAT'S 3 USD PER PERSON FOR ONE DAY. The donations usually come up only when there's another martyr or another displacement so please make a pleasant surprise for Falastin's family (they haven't got one in more than a year) and donate if you can.

Preferred way - Gofundme (in SEK, 10 USD = 106 SEK):

PayPal (in USD):

Vetting info: #282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here], #957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [here] Falastin's account: [link]

[columbidaehypoxia]

Learning more and more there is no "together". Life is a beautiful and horribly stressful collection of moving parts and shifting things and all you really can do is try and make the best day you can.

Sometimes if I look at everything in my life, my partner's life, the world, and I feel like I'm drowning. Now I'm not the only one. And i know that if I stay there, looking down at everything that is,could've been, wants that never manifested and needs that were never met, I could get lost in it all forever.

But at some point, you know there are things you can't change and things you can't do or didn't, but you can't go back. You have today and these moments, and I've really begun to learn to live, or enjoy, the moment, the present. You can't change how much you hurt and wasted 7 yrs of your life being hurt, but you can pause and choose a little bit of peace for today.

And I mean this for goals too, you can achieve almost anything if it's genuine. If you wanted to paint and never learned how, do it now. Make your paint from mud if you don't have the money to buy paint, but make yourself a fucking masterpiece. Write music and do whatever you want with it. Make creepy short films on your phone that you may or may not ever publish. Enjoy the doing and the feeling of choosing you, of choosing the action of love, because you cannot love something if you regret it, and I don't think ppl should carry this regret around. Take a moment to be proud of even the 'small' accomplishments.

There is always hope, every and any day, and we all are doing the same thing, trying to find out how not to carry the weight of regrets with us wherever we go. (Except maybe that 1 person who definitely has it figured out, we don't know what to say about them. They probably don't have laundry to do when they get home either. This is irrelevant. )

Anyways no one asked for this sorry to rant on ur post I'll stop talking sending love

everyone from childhood seems to have carved out a life for themselves. i still feel 15 and completely hopeless

[dottieisdotting]

TREAT ME LIKE A SLUT - SVT- hip hop unit

requested?: no

pairing(s): HHU unit x AFAB!reader

Genre: smut (MDNI)

warning(s): fivesome,dom/sub dynamics, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), blindfolded reader,bondage,use of butt plug,vibrators,dildos, deep throating, spitting (fem!rec), overstim, degradation (slut, whore,cockslut, cumslut),praise (good girl, sweetheart, sweet girl,gorgeous),squirting,Dacryphilia,clit stimulation,nipple play,hair pulling, oral (m&f!rec), creampie, size kink, slight choking (fem!rec - on Gyu’s behalf),spanking, masturbation, begging (fem)

Summary:you always had a fantasy of your boyfriend (Wonwoo) and the rest of his unit to treat you like a slut

word count: 4k (give or take a little more)

A/N: so, I don't know what possessed me to write this but I've been thinking about it for a couple weeks, debating and whatnot. So go finally have this up and published feels relieving and i hope you all enjoy just this smutty mess for the hip hop unit xoxo – Eva

To say your sex life with Wonwoo was vanilla would be a complete lie. In the years of dating him, you have explored just about everything that you've been interested in but one thing that you guys have never done was invite another person into the bedroom.

It wasn’t that you weren't into the idea or anything but sex with Wonwoo was struck out of random places and times. To invite another person it would take time and commitment and both of you to agree on the said person who you’d fuck. So when you slyly mentioned that you wouldn't mind being treated like a slut by Wonwoo and the rest of his unit, he was delighted and secretly started to plan the long night out.

He got Vernon’s, Mingyu and Seungcheol schedules and figured out a day when they all got off together at the same time. He texted you that they were gonna come around for a couple hours. You were completely fine with it because they would normally come around too when they left work together.

You wait until they get there and welcome them all accordingly as they all trudge into the living room and take a seat on either the chairs or couch. You sit on the end tucked up to Wonwoo’s side as you listen to the conversation and sometimes talk. Wonwoo mindlessly strokes your side as a sign of love but you couldn't help but feel aroused. He looked so manly with his fit and hair styled like that, and the pièce de résistance, the glasses that sat on his face so perfectly. God, you could've cum right there and then but you had dignity and (some) self-control.

You look over to Vernon, his black hair, small comforting smile and casual outfit, Mingyu and his bulging muscles and puppy eyed expression and then the leader, Seungcheol and his lazy eyes and small smirk. It made you needy but you were able to control it - for now.

Wonwoo looked at you and saw your flushed cheeks and ears and how tightly your legs were clenched together. He smirked, reaching his hand to your thigh and rubbing it gently, showing no motive for sex but you knew he was only teasing ”Wonu” you whisper and he hums to you already knowing what you were going to say ”need you, Wonwoo”, the words coming from your mouth set a spark of fire through Wonwoo’s body and he groans softly, shifting in his seat as he feels himself becoming hard.

He grips your thigh tightly. His other hand leaves your side and slips under your leggings tracing your hip and down to your panties. You squirm slightly making Mingyu look over and ask if you are okay, you nod and hum as Wonwoo cups your pussy in his hand making the 3 other men look over and down at your mewl. Wonwoo smirks as he feels the slight damp patch on your panties.

He pulls his hand away and sits you on his lap, legs spread. You blush and look away, he told them about your fantasy and they were here to fulfil it. ”don't be shy, sweetheart,” you hear Mingyu say and he shifts and stands up walking to you and kneeling on the floor, in between your spread legs

Your breathing increases as you see Mingyu kneel. You thought it was a dream, him on the floor whilst you sat on your boyfriend's lap, panties soaked. ”Please” you beg, wanting something from any of the four men that were sitting in your living room. Wonwoo patted your hip and removed his hand from your panties. You stood and went to the bedroom, waiting for them to follow.

They were taking too long so you strip from your shirt and leggings leaving yourself in your bra and panties but you wanted to be fully bare so you remove your bra,letting your tits free and shimmy your panties down. You were now completely naked except the buttplug in your ass, courtesy of Wonwoo and his schemes.

You were soaking and no one seemed to be coming to you so you decided to grab a dildo from where they were kept and some lube. It was an average purple silicone dildo, not massively long and girthy but enough to get you to your orgasm when Wonwoo wasn't at home. You uncap the lube and put some on the dildo, letting it coat it. You sit on your knees and position it so you could just slide down it and so you did. Inch by inch you move slowly down the toy until you are at its hilt. You moan, not caring how loud, as you get used to it.

You lift yourself and move back down, hearing yourself and seeing yourself through the mirror that was on the wall in front of your bed. You keep moving, switching from rolling your hips to bouncing as you feel your stomach tighten, you were already close because you were so worked up. You moan out and cry out a different name every time making sure you were loud enough for everyone to hear. You shut your eyes and keep your mouth open letting all the noises fly out from expletives to whines and whimpers.

Your orgasm ripples through you,leaving you heaving and breathless. You open your eyes and see four pairs of eyes staring at you, you instantly blush and remove the dildo from inside you now covered in your cum and juices.

You hear someone tsk and walk over to the bed. It was your boyfriend, Wonwoo. ”Look at you being a naughty little slut, you couldn't wait for us, hmm? What a bad girl. Turn around, gorgeous, let me see the plug in your cute little ass” the praise and degradation in his words make you mewl and follow his instructions. You turned around so you were facing the wall on your knees. You lean down so you are face down ass up and wait ‘patiently’ for your decided punishment. You knew it was spanking but you didn’t know how many you’d receive. There were four of them after all.

Suddenly a hand comes down, hard, on your left ass cheek making you jolt forward and yelp. You look back and see Mingyu ready to bring his hand down again. You close your eyes and wait for the impact. It comes down again. Seungcheol says ”Be a sweet girl and take the punishment, yeah? 5 from each of us to learn your lesson” you whimper in response whilst, for the third time, Mingyu’s hand smacks your arse. He lays his last two on your left cheek and switches with Vernon.

He spreads your legs a little more so he could see your glistening pussy, juices leaking out. You whimper and look behind you. Vernon’s eyes were only looking at your pussy, almost admiring it. He lifts his hand and leaves a small smack on your pussy. You jolt with that. You’d never had your pussy slapped before but it felt oddly nice? For some reason you wanted it again so Vernon did it again, directly on your clit another 4 times, quick and easy.

You were half way through your (possible) neverending punishment. Your left arse cheek was hurting and your pussy was soaking and needy. Next up was Wonwoo who was also quick with his punishment,leaving your right arse cheek red too. You felt overwhelmed in pleasure and you couldn't get enough, you needed more, so much more. Seungcheol was the final one and you were quite scared for his turn.

He sees the slight fear in your face and leans down to press a kiss on each ass cheek and clit before bringing his hand down twice on each cheek then his final on your clit making you flinch hard and fall onto the bed. You were a trembling mess who was fighting for a release.

”poor little whore, can’t even deal with one spanking” you shake your head in protest. ”I can, I can, I swear!” you turn around and look at them all. They were all sporting either semis or full hard-ons. To know that you made them like this through only spanking you felt a little bit of pride with a shitload of smugness. You bite your lip and get off the bed and kneel in front of Wonwoo,looking up at him with your pretty doe eyed look.

He looks down at you,reaching out to caress your cheek softly. You reach up to his belt and unbuckle it,pulling it off, undoing his pants and pulling them down and off. He was left in his boxers, bulge noticeable in his CK briefs. You were practically salivating for his cock whilst the other three stood/ sat, cocks aching for your mouth,hands, pussy. They all needed you so badly but you were going to please Wonu first.

You pull his boxers down, cock being freed as you wrap your hands around it. You hear his breathing increase as you look up, moving your hands and kitten licking the leaking tip. You take the tip in your mouth and suck it softly, teasing him with your tongue. A hand comes down to the back of your head, carding through it before pushing your head down to take his cock further down your throat. You gag and Vernon looks worried but Wonu brushes it off ”she’s a little cockslut, loves to gag on my dick, don't you gorgeous?”

You moan around him and bob your head, up and down, up and down continuously. You cup his balls and remove his dick from your mouth, going down to suck his balls and jerk him off. Wonwoo groans and moans as you work your mouth all over his cock and balls. His hand tightens in your hair and bucks his hips forward ”gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours, sweet girl, take all of it and you can have the other cocks” you get back to bobbing your head, licking and swirling your wet appendage all over his length.

Wonwoo gets all whiny and whimpery when he gets close and with a few firm sucks on the tip, his cum was coating your throat, thick ropes eloping down your oesophagus. You didn't stop moving your head until he was pulling your mouth off of him from oversensitivity.

You pull off him with an audible pop and swallow thickly,looking up and Wonwoo with your watery eyes.He strokes your cheek and tells Seungcheol to lie down and for you to climb on his face. Your sopping pussy was now in direct contact with Seungcheol’s mouth as he licks and sucks softly at your clit making you moan and roll your hips.

You look up and notice Vernon and Mingyu at the foot of the bed with their cocks out, hard and ready. You take both of them in your hands and jerk them off. You keep your hips going, Seungcheol’s nose bumping your clit as he eats you out like a starved man. You tighten your hands and move them quicker,leaning forward to suck and lick Mingyu and Vernon’s tips one at a time. The scene was already filthy and the night has not properly started yet. If this was the starter, you were in for a fucking treat all through tonight.

”Cheollie, m’gonna cum!” you moan as you feel your orgasm start to build. It started at your toes and top of the head, compressing down to your stomach, feeling like you needed to pee. You knew you were gonna squirt, the telltale signs so obvious to you now that Wonu had made you do it so many times in the past. ”oh shit,shit, shit” you moan out loud as your liquid squirts into Seungcheol’s mouth, down his chin soaking his shoulders. You throw your head back. Your chest heaves as Seungcheol moves you off of his, now soaking, face so you could continue pleasuring Vernon and Mingyu.

You tease them by licking their tips. They were desperate for a release and so they came. Mingyu was louder than Vernon, moaning and groaning as you jerked him off through his orgasm whispering sweet things such as; ”so good for coming all over me. I love it Gyu, more, gimme more” Vernon on the other hand was quiet but he bucked his hips to get over the afterwaves of his orgasm. You release their cocks from your hands and go lay down, waiting for what is coming next.

Wonwoo walks over and ties a black, silk blindfold over your eyes. Next was Vernon with a belt ”hand to your front, sweetheart” and so you follow, hands on your stomach as Vernon ties them together in a makeshift handcuff situation. ”My sweet girl, are you gonna let us fuck you now, all of us in your tight little pussy? Can you take all of us, gorgeous? Let us fill you nice and full like the little cumslut you are” you nod your head and respond verbally. ”yes, i'll be your cumslut, i'll take it all like a good little cockslut”. You couldn't see but you knew all of them were smirking at your obedience just for some cock, you were desperate and aching to be filled up, to be taken and used by 4 hot men.

Someone pulled you so your legs were dangling off the bed, a pillow got situated under your hips and small kisses were left down your body. You giggle at the softness and hear Mingyu’s chuckle. You spread your legs further as one of them ends up on Gyu’s shoulder and he jerks himself,lining his cock up with your sopping needy little hole. He slowly pushes in, feeling your gummy walls stretch to his size

You moan at the intrusion. You try your hardest not to clench as he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust before he begins to move. Mingyu pulls out just until his tip is inside you then slams his hips forward quickly, making your body jolt. He holds your legs to his chest,together so you’d be more tight for him. His pace is relentless,hard and fast, not slowing down and putting his thumb on your clit rubbing small figure 8’s on it,driving you mad already like you didn't have another 3 cocks to take tonight.

”Gyu, so good, you're so deep and’ i’m so full” your eyes were half shut, pupils blown out with pleasure as you get fucked raw by Mingyu. He was loving every second of it too. Your soft walls are practically suffocating his fat cock, wanting to be milked dry by you. He moans, not shameful but very vocal on how good your pussy was. He kisses your calf as he moves your legs so you are folded in half as he speeds up more (if that was possible). He moves his hands to hold your legs to keep you folded.

Your orgasm was coming quickly as you moaned as loud as you wanted. You couldn't see anything but you felt the tears running down your soft cheeks. Nails indenting your palms as your breathing irregular as your impending orgasm makes your body tingle ”Gyu, please, please. M’gonna cum!” he hums and mumbles (in the jumbled moans coming from him) that he was getting close too.

He lets your legs go and they fall back down onto the bed as you try to move your hips in time with the brutal pace Mingyu had set for you since you were so desperate for cock. ”gonna take it all for me, huh? Be a good little cumdump for me, nice and deep. Fill you till your stomach is full, sweetheart” Mingyu yet again praises and degrades you just how you like it and it makes you continuously clench until you reach your peak and come around his cock.

You moan, whimper and whine and lift your hips, as Mingyu comes too, filling your pussy with white ropes of his come. You loved it, the feeling of being helpless, bound and blinded for your boyfriend and friends to use. You felt dirty, whore-like but it's what you wanted. Mingyu eventually pulls out of you, a string of his and your cum leaking out onto the sheets below, like you cared.

He leans down, kissing you softly and praising you for taking his cock so well and how wonderful you felt. His words brought you a splash of pride and you thank him quietly. The blindfold gets removed and you see Vernon as soon as it was lifted ”Nonie” you whisper and he strokes your head, peppering your face with small kisses. He answers to the nickname and undoes the belt on your wrists, kissing the slightly reddened marks. ”Need you to roll onto your stomach, sweet girl,” you nod and do just that, adjusting the pillow but Vernon removes it and lifts your hips ”ass up, gorgeous”

You leave your ass up and feel Vernon get behind you tying the blindfold once again before he lines up quickly not wanting to waste his time to have you to himself. He slowly pushes in and lets out a small huff as he bottoms out feeling immense pleasure already unmoving. He lets you get used to it, not wanting to go fast and bring you to the limit right away, he wanted to go slow and drag it out as much as he could before he came.

”Move, Nonie, you can move” Vernon pulls out slowly to slide right back in, finding a slow pace, deep strokes making you feel every inch of him. You whimper every time his tip kisses your g-spot. You struggle to keep your hips still so you claw the sheets below you. ”mm, feels good” his deep, slow strokes were bringing you to ecstacy

It was a lot different from Mingyu's but you didn't mind one bit in fact you loved this after the rough relentless pace You endured. Vernon kept this way the entire time it took you to reach your peak, his hand reaching under to rub your clit making your orgasm more intense,longer lasting. Your legs quiver as your hands relax on the sheets.

Vernon pulls out,kissing down your back and rolling you over to your back and sitting you up. He unties the blindfold and the light makes your eyes squint. Your boyfriend,Wonwoo, had gotten you a drink and a little pack of Haribo cherries to bring your energy back up for him and Seungcheol, knowing you get tired quickly.

You eat them and drink half the water before you are ready again. Seungcheol sits on the bed coaxing you over to sit on his lap ”got enough energy to ride me gorgeous girl?” You look at Seungcheol, still slightly tired. You nod anyway and sit up on your knees, gently grabbing and lining his cock up with your hole. Seungcheol was long and girthy, you knew it’d be a stretch but you could cope, maybe. There was only one way to find out so you slide down his cock slowly,careful not to hurt yourself.

You had to relax yourself so you could bottom out which took some time. Finally you sat fully on Seungcheol’s cock feeling full as you looked down to see where your bodies connected. He notices and gently lifts your chin, bringing your lips closer to his so he could kiss you. Seungcheol lets you set the pace, rocking your hips,circling them before lifting up and bringing yourself back down onto him. He mostly groans quietly along with your gentle moans and mewls,speaking degrading praise into your ear,pressing kisses down your neck.

Seungcheol had one of his hands on your hip,rubbing it and the other on your tits, squeezing, sucking,licking,kissing them,showing them attention. You speed up your movements and that's when Seungcheol begins to meet his hips up to yours. He leans back so he could punch up to your tight, dewy cunt. You let your mouth stay open. You couldn't give two flying fucks if you started to drool. You already had 3 dicks including Cheol's inside of you.

”mmh, ngh” you weren't making any sense, your brain was mushed as your body moved by itself bouncing on his cock chasing another mind blowing orgasm quickly. You lean down and kiss him sloppily, not caring. You loved it, he loved it. Seungcheol started to rub your clit to bring more pleasure to your shaking body. ”ahh, ahh, oh God, yes Cheol, yes!” He smirked loving every sound from your slutty mouth.

You couldn't anymore. You lean forward still moving your hips whilst your head rested on his shoulder. At this point Seungcheol was doing all the work as you chased your release. Seungcheol was also close, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, he was panting and kissing anywhere he could reach. His tip graced your g-spot making your walls spasm and tighten around his cock milking you to your release and his.

You sit up and rock your hips to ride out your highs. You were spent and still had one more cock to go, your boyfriend's cock.you lift your hips and let Seungcheol slide out of you. Your legs felt like jello and ready to collapse at any moment. Seungcheol moved off of the bed,letting Wonwoo take his place and lay down on it. You crawl to him and lay down so your back is against his chest. He holds your legs open. You clench around nothing, letting the other 3 mens cum drip out of you.

He lines his cock to your slutty hole and sinks into you, you clench around him instantly,your cunt welcoming him back. You whimper and rest your head on his shoulder as he pumps up into you. You couldn't help but just moan out how good it felt. Wonwoo makes you hold your legs open for him as he rubs your belly and clit.

”feels so good, baby, love it. Love your cock so much” you feel his breathing in your ear. He kisses it softly and keeps his hips going. You roll your hips downwards as much and you could ”there we go, such a beautiful cumslut for us all. Want to be nice and full of all of us” you whine at his words only for him to praise you. ”gorgeous girl, took all of our cum, so well so proud of you”

Those words spurred you on to your last and most powerful orgasm, body trembling as you squirt,pushing his cock out of you. His cum leaks down his tip and around his glistening cock. Wonwoo's cum smeers onto your folds as your body shakes from the aftershock

He moves you off him and lays you on the bed. He kisses down your body,slowly soothing your shakes. He turns you on your side to remove the buttplug, you shiver and whimper but Vernon comes in clutch to kiss you to comfort.

Mingyu, now dressed with boxers, comes back with a damp towel for Wonwoo and you. Mingyu strokes your hair and kisses your forehead and cheeks repeatedly whilst Wonu cleans your thighs and pussy. You shiver and feel Seungcheol pick you up bridal style and take you to the already run bathtub due to Vernon running it.

It had a bath bomb in and rose petals. He had lit some candles making it cosy. You lay back and relax. You sip some water that was provided by your boyfriend as he joins you in the bath to soak for a while.

After nearly an hour the water turned colder and it was time to get out. Wonu wraps a towel around his waist before helping you dry off. He guides you into your shared room and dresses you in pj's. He lays you down in bed and gets in beside you, kissing you goodnight. ”did you enjoy it sweet girl”

You nod sleepily and cuddle into him closing your eyes ”I wanna do it again sometime, i love you” Wonwoo smiles and holds you close ”One day baby, but not soon, let's get you rested up. I love you”

[itaipava]

— charles leclerc being a simp for you.

he quietly learns your routine and tastes: your coffee orders, your favorite comfort food, and even the little things that brighten your day. when you’re too busy or stressed, he’s there with your favorite things, making your day easier without needing to be asked.

he follows the release dates of your favorite authors or artists, always surprising you with a new book, song, or art. sometimes he leaves it on your doorstep with a little note, so it feels magical when you find it.

he makes a physical or digital “map” of places you’ve mentioned you’d like to visit or things you want to do, like hike a specific trail, try a new restaurant, or visit a certain country. little by little, he plans little trips to check off items on your list and make your dreams come true, surprising you with spontaneous and memorable adventures.

whenever you say something funny, inspiring, or deeply personal, he writes it down. over time, he creates a little book of “quotes of you” that he can look back on, remembering all the unique things that made him fall in love even more with you.

every week, he sends you flowers or with a handwritten note. he never signs his name, leaving it as a “secret admirer” gesture, which adds mystery. even though you know he’s the one sending them, he never admits it. sometimes even joking around like, “what beautiful flowers! who gave them to you? a secret admirer?”

he creates different spotify playlists based on your mood — one for when you’re happy, one for when you’re sad, one for when you’re feeling nostalgic. each playlist is filled with songs that resonate with your emotions, showing that he really pays attention to you and uses music to demonstrate his love and care for you.

whether it’s a specific recipe you love or a new hobby you’re interested in, he dives into learning to surprise you. one day, he’ll show up with a homemade version of your favorite dish or casually mention that he tried that new hobby you’re obsessed with. he loves to participate in your hobbies and share the same emotions and ideas with you.

he has a scrapbook of all your best memories together, including date night tickets, photos, and little memories. it’s a visual journey of your relationship that he updates with new pages as you continue to make memories.

one night, he’ll take you stargazing, showing you a custom star map he commissioned that shows the exact sky from the night you met, your first kiss, or another significant event. it’s a physical reminder of your history together and how the stars have witnessed your love.

he notices what makes you feel better when you’re feeling down or stressed, whether it’s a specific movie, hot chocolate, or a fluffy blanket. when you need a pick-me-up, he’ll quietly set up your favorite “comfort zone” with everything you love to help you relax.

[sarahreesbrennan]

Thank you for writing Long Live Evil.

I'm no cancer survivor, so I haven't been through the horror that that must've been, congratulations to enduring and surviving, and my sincere condolences that you had to go through it.

But I am chronically ill (cystic fibrosis, genetic defect) and have so far lived for 5 years longer than my prognosis allowed. My health's been good and stabile for a long time now, but I remember times where I couldn't walk alone, had a 18/6 nasal cannula and a 24-hour IV drip instead of school or a future.

Now I'm working at university, an archaeologist, chipping away at writing stories for years and years, and incredibly glad and privileged to see the world. All this to say that seeing how hurt Rae was in the beginning (and again throughout the story, while also never truly forgetting her true roots and motives) and how she grew around it like a gnarled tree, was like catharsis for me. Having miraculously given a second chance, no matter how hard the fight to keep it will be; I haven't ever read any story talking about this in a way that made me feel seen and understood like this. Thank you also lots and lots for taking the time to mention Rae's appreciation for Rahela's curves — it's been the same for me, since I've managed to get out of the underweight-trap. It means a lot to me, and I guess to many others in similar situations, including you of course. Thank you for sharing this with us, it must've been hard to touch on a deeply personal experience like this in writing that's simultaneously removed from oneself through fiction (at least that's what I'm imagining).

Thank you, and I wish you nothing but the best, health, and lots of good days to come. Deeply curious to see how Rae's story will continue!

Thank you so much for this.

I am so glad you are alive. Thank you for that, too - for living on even when you couldn’t see a way forward and everything was helpless despair.

I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, either, but it’s a privilege to have shared adjoining experiences trapped in darkness, and to share gladness and the wide world with you now. I’m so sorry it happened, and so happy you have archaeology and stories, and the world has you.

I will be totally honest and say it has been hard sharing Long Live Evil with the world, and I’m so grateful to you for knowing that, and for sending this message because you knew. This book is highly personal to me, but it’s also meant to be a wild celebration of messiness, escapism, and finding humour in art and darkness. And that means to some it’s just a joke, and in the words of Joanna Russ, ‘she’s not really an artist and it’s not really art.’ And so it gets dismissed, and it does hurt to see my most important story dismissed sometimes.

I was with other writers in a public space at one point and they were talking about how their books were about serious issues while ‘Sarah’s book is just for fun, and that’s fine too!’ (I had to take a minute before I could lean into my microphone and say ‘My book is about cancer’ in a cheery tone.) I’ve seen readers saying ‘this book’s just fluff, just silly, I’m ashamed of myself for reading it, there’s nothing to it’ about the book I wrote about almost dying.

My Rae, while of course she has bits of me in her (every character I’ve ever written does), and evil queens I’ve loved, and characters with wild hubris going on in the Greek plays I mention often in the book, and readers I’ve seen and I’ve been who are blithely confident they know what’s going on without doing more than surface reading and while forgetting key details… she’s also bits of women and girls I’ve mentored, been mentored by, befriended. And some of them are dead. So seeing the bits that were them particularly scorned or judged, seeing her pain dismissed or the discussion of her body sneered at…

That has been hard.

But.

In the end I believe I am really an artist and this book is really art, and art is there for the wide world to judge - to be mocked and dismissed, yes, as a price that comes with the opportunity to also be truly seen and appreciated, to get to influence real people’s real lives. Art is the gold that comes from the crucible in which we put all our pain and all our love and all our joys. I believe it deepens and transforms.

I wrote this book about how deeply unsympathetic people actually are to sufferers of illness, chronic or otherwise, and especially to women expressing pain. How the world villainises imperfect victims—which means all victims. How the world villainises bodies, and robs us of our joy in them—even when there’s horror in a body, too. I did know that by putting this book out into this world, that attitude would be reflected back by the world onto the book. And that attitude has hurt me in the past, and hurts me when I see it now.

I still think it’s worth calling out that attitude, even if it means getting more of that attitude reflected back onto me - because it means readers like you see it, and know others have been through this, and it was never okay, and you were never alone. While I know there will also be readers with chronic illnesses and/or cancer whose experience doesn’t overlap with mine at all, that only means there need to be more stories. So everyone who needs it gets the map into fantasy lands.

And I do hope some able-bodied readers read it, and think twice about adopting the world’s attitude to the people in their lives who are already going through enough. Some readers have told me the book helped them sympathise with and understand the cancer sufferers in their family and friend circles, and that’s meant a great deal. What do we write for, if not to learn to love each other better?

Long Live Evil has also given me my life back, as truly as chemo did, in a way that makes the pain worthwhile - I think I would have kept telling stories in some form, but Long Live Evil was my last throw, for as far ahead as I could see. Now since the book’s done well so far I’m hoping I can write more books, and my life can be the storytelling shape I always wanted it to be.

I read your message and I regretted nothing. I remember the pain and the way so many of us laughed or tried to laugh our way through it, and I know this was my way. Jokes, like stories, are the golden thread we follow through the dark labyrinth of our own agony and incomprehension.

It really has been hard, and it’ll stay hard. But like living, it’s worth it.

Please know two things.

I am so happy I wrote this book. Ultimately more than any other feeling I had so, so much fun writing it, and I’m having even more fun seeing the book be read by the people it was meant for.

2. This book was written for you.

[not-so-local-lesbian]

I accidentally just wrote a mini essay in the fucking reblog 😭 I’ll just take out the first paragraph and rearrange the rest in order if I never need a personal essay I guess…

Holy shit this is what I basically said in a cover letter I had to write for a school project! (I want to do this for a living)

We’re taught from a young age to recreate how we think to fit the same system of everyone else. When we are shown a shred of acceptance for fundamentally thinking differently, it astounds us because we aren’t being forced to think in a harmful and sometimes genuinely painful way.

It may not seem actually painful to use a different system, but it is. It mentally hurts, and it can end up physically hurting because I am literally fighting against myself.

Autistic coping is accepting that you have a different system and allowing yourself to explore what that may be. It means treating yourself with kindness, patience, and with the understanding you deserve.

It is not fucking easy. It is however, worth it. You are worth the effort you are giving to yourself. You are worth the effort others will give.

(If you ever need some tips, I can try to help!)

(Story time!! Technically this is first, then it goes to the paragraphs after the “holy shit this is”)

I also said this to my friend who was struggling to do an assignment, and he cried. Told him I’d help with the assignment, He showed me the VAGUE instructions, and I said: “well, I guess you could do ___________, but there isn’t that much structure in their wording, which is why that way is really vague and confusing. Is this why a no?”

He said yes. I gave him the way I did it, and I explained it. He said: “ I can’t do spreadsheets and it doesn’t work for me, but it kind of makes sense, and I’ll just try it out and it’ll be fine!! I’ll use it. You’re already trying to help me, and I don’t want to just say no to everything and make it hard.”

After hearing that, I told him: “We won’t use the spreadsheet. If it doesn’t work for you, that is completely okay. I suggested the spreadsheet because that is how I formatted it in my brain in a specific, all be it tedious, way to work with those vague instructions. I worked with my way of thinking/autism instead of working against it in order to make the assignment less excruciating and painful. I want to help you. Giving you a different way that doesn’t help you, even though it helped me, isn’t helping you. I want to help you find a way to work with yourself instead of against yourself. You aren’t being difficult, lazy, or uncooperative. You asked for help, which is a sign you are trying. You aren’t being lazy. Hell, you just wanted to go with a plan that didn’t work for you to make it easier on me, despite me being the one trying to make it better for you. You aren’t being difficult. Also, uncooperative is far from the truth! You told me what you found confusing, a bit of why, that the spreadsheets don’t work, and a bit of why they don’t work. That’s a lot of cooperation if you ask me. Continuously working against your way of thinking/autism isn’t going to help you. Sure, you can do it the other way, but it’s harmful and excruciatingly painful. I want to help you work with your way of thinking, yourself, and your autism. If we try a thousand ways, and they all don’t work, that’s okay. We can try another way. I quite literally want to help people with disabilities, autistic folks especially, allow themselves to find and think in their own way for a living. I’m so glad you’re letting me help you”

He said he never heard anything like that in his life. He literally cried.

I said it in the last post but I’m going to say it again because it’s important so LISTEN UP!!!!!

COPING WITH AUTISM ISN’T ABOUT FIGHTING YOUR AUTISTIC TRAITS!!!!!!! IT’S ABOUT LEARNING TO WORK WITH YOUR AUTISTIC TRAITS IN A WAY THAT ISN’T HARMFUL TO YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

[inmyheaddd]

✦ sparks fly (and so do waterbottles!)

a/n: as a certified clutz myself i couldn’t just write one clumsy!reader x percy fic 🙈🙈 wc: 757

you were carrying a box full of camp gear—rope, quivers, sparring gloves, a couple of water bottles—as you carefully made your way through the trail towards the archery range. percy had offered to help earlier, but you’d waved him off, saying that you’d be fine, it was a one person job. 

the one second you weren’t looking down at your feet, you tripped on a long tree root. 

you tumbled straight over onto your knees, dropping the box box with half of its content spilled all across the ground. you watched a quiver roll extra dramatically downhill in your moment of shock. 

seriously?

percy jogged over from somewhere behind you, as if he was waiting to see it happen, trying and failing to hide his grin. “you know, i offered to help you, like, two minutes ago.”

“i was fine,” you muttered with your cheeks heating up, crouching down to gather everything you had dropped.

he held up one of the water bottles he’d caught, that flung halfway down the path behind you. “clearly. you’re doing wonders for the camp’s inventory.”

you huffed, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “it’s part of the training program. it builds resilience.” you said, “it’s like… the gods way of keeping me humble or something.”

unfortunately for you, this was not the first time this has happened. 

he chuckled lowly, leaning down to help you pick up the remaining gear. “hey, you could even say they’re trying to keep you grounded,” he said, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he grinned. “literally.”

you stifled a smile as you both stood up, swatting his arm as he took a few of the items from you. “you’re so unfunny.”

you picked up the box and you and percy began walking forward to all the other items that rolled away.

“y’know, i’ve been thinking, do i need to get you, like, some armor?” he teased, nearly snorting as you almost stumbled on the same tree root once again.

you shot him a look. “its not my fault! i’d be just fine if everything in here didn’t have like a personal vendetta against me…” you mumbled under your breath as you stared at the box in your hand. that was the only possible explanation for how often you dropped things or tripped on them.

“right,” he said, grinning as he raised his brows. “i should get you a safety vest, or something... bright yellow, so all the supplies know to steer clear.”

“oh, yeah. you’re hilarious,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you carefully reached for another bottle you’d missed. you tried to ignore the way your palms stung slightly after you’d scraped them on the gravel, but you couldn’t help but wince slightly.

percy’s brows furrowed as he looked at you, then to your hands. “are you good?” he asked, but he was already taking the box from your arms and putting it on the ground. then he took your hands in his and inspected them. 

“i’m literally fine, perce. it’s just a scrape.” you said with a chuckle as you tried to retract your hands, but he only held your wrists firmer.

he turned them over, checking the backs of your hand before rubbing soft circles with his thumbs in an attempt to soothe them. you wanted to laugh at the sudden switch up, but also cry out of the sweetness of the small act. 

“okay, so,” he said softly, “i’m adding protective gloves to shopping list along with the armor— do you think you’ll need safety glasses too?” percy was grinning now, but he made his joke in such a serious tone, sounding like a concerned mother, but you knew his sarcasm all too well.

“oh yeah, for sure.” you rolled your eyes as you took your hands out of his and picked up the box. “i’ll be looking like a minion by the end of it.” 

“hey, it’s a good look on you,” he said with a grin, walking alongside you, still carrying half your load in his hands, making the box a bit lighter for you. 

“you’re the only person who could pull it off, trust me.” 

“no way,” you shook your head as you laughed, “if i was ever going to wear that, you’d have to wear it with me.”

“i’d look like an idiot any day if it meant you not getting injured, sure.” he said casually. he then nudged your shoulder carefully, giving you that soft smile of his. ”someone’s gotta keep you from tripping over yourself.” 

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23

@hermesenthusiast

[uriswhumpchamber]

I'm here to bring y'all some living doll whumpee propaganda - and I mean living doll, not conditioned whumpee who thinks of themself as an object (those are good but y'all write them better than me).

And I do mean propaganda.

No mess, no proof of someone living having been hurt. Blood splattered means violence happened, but... What is a bit of broken porcelain, or whatever other material left on the floor, if not something to just sweep away and put with the trash?

No chance at salvation. Who would try to save Whumpee, after all? It's not like they're an actual, living, thinking being - yes, anyone else in their situation could (arguably, but in every setting there's at least one revolutionary) be argued as a person, someone could want to save them. But Whumpee is a plaything. Nobody will come for them.

Being made for someone else. Being made, their purpose defined from the start, whatever it may be. Specially good when that purpose is "take a beating without dying or breaking that much". Specially good when it very much isn't, but that's what happens anyway - with Whumpee not being able to even expect it, no matter how clear the signs, because that's just not how it's supposed to be.

Failing at that purpose, when it's the second - because now they're in pain, now they're suffering, and so it doesn't matter anymore what they were meant to do - they can't. And who- what even are they, at that point?

No chance for adaptation. Whumpee isn't a living being, after all: they can't get used to pain, to overstimulation, to discomfort, to stress. They can't grow around things, can't have their body change to save them, in whatever little ways a living being can make themselves survive - no scar tissue, no numbing of the feelings when it gets too much. Whatever happens, they can only take it - and keep taking it, their body responding in the same exact way each time.

The way conditioning works for a being that's meant to be obedient. It's no longer a matter of Whumpee breaking down and becoming obedient, it's a matter of them refusing to be reprogrammed to Whumper's whims - even if everything in their brain is trying to cave in.

The chance for dehumanization to hit even harder. After all, if Whumpee believes themself to be a person, in whatever way "person" can be defined to include them, then what happens when they're shown just how different they are to a real person? What happens when Whumper decides to correct them, no matter what it takes?

[vivid-dreamscapes]

pls omg a part 2 of the halloween party fic with katsuki where reader wakes up in the morning and remembers everything that happened that night

i loved it!!!

OH MY GOSH YESSSSSS I WILLLLLL. Everyone, see, THIS is a person you should all take after. GIVE ME YOUR REQUESTSSSS, I WILL WRITE THEMMMM (unless they are smut).

Okay, in all seriousness, TYSM FOR THE REQUEST. Having severe writer block constantly makes it hard to write for yall on a regular basis, so having a prompt or being asked to continue smth makes me super happy and motivated! The squeal that I let out when I found out the notif in my inbox was a request and not someone trying to sign me up for something was hella loud.

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Pt.1

Tw: Cursing, hungover!Reader, slight angst, insecure!Bakugou

not proofread!

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . . Spooky Season

The sun beamed through the window, light shining directly in your eyes. You awoke with a terrible headache, whole body aching from the night before. Your memory was a little wonky, slowly sitting up in bed and rubbing your forehead. “Agh, my head…”

Katsuki was still in bed next to you, sleeping on his stomach. One arm was slung over your lap as his face was buried in his pillow. He snored quietly, his blanket only covering his lower half.

The stupid wolf ears Kirishima had convinced him to wear was placed crookedly on the top of his head, and his green jacket tussled quite a bit. You looked down at him before rubbing your eyes. And then you remembered. Everything.

"Oh f*ck.” You muttered to yourself, the memories of the night before hitting you like A-Train. You glanced down at the sleeping boy, your breathing becoming uneven. You thought about what he said to you last night. You decided to test the waters. After he woke up of course.

You got up carefully to find some pain killers for your hangover—he always had some on his dresser, a habit, or perhaps just a tip, you’d picked up. All the training caused his muscles to be hella sore, so he always had a full bottle, and eventually, you had started doing the same.

Once you took them though, you looked over to see the blonde boy watching you groggily, propped up on one elbow. Oh shit. Had you woken him up when you got up? Had he just been staring at you?

(He totally had, but had stayed silent because he was just sleepily entranced by you and how gorgeous you looked in the costume he had been too shy to change you out of.)

"Good morning." His voice was gruff, his red eyes watching your every move as if he was a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. He yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes as he watched you. Katsuki noticed the look on your face and raised a brow. "What?" He asked with a small grumble, stretching his arms up.

“Heyyyyy…” You said almost awkwardly, sitting back down on the bed next to him. You weren’t really sure how to start this conversation, considering it wasn’t a typical way to start the morning, but your curiosity was killing you. “About last night…what did you mean?”

He raised a brow, his sleepy eyes staring at you as he tried to clear away the sleep clouding his sight. He then looked over at his nightstand, grabbing a face towel and cleaning off the smudged the natural makeup look Sero had given him last night. It came off easy—it had been cheap makeup after all.

"What do you mean?" He asked after tossing the towel in the laundry bin in the corner of his room. He seemed almost oblivious to you asking about the conversation both of you had the night prior. He looked at you with a small, tired sigh, and raised a brow. To be fair, he wasn't fully awake yet. Maybe he just needed some time to fully process.

“When you said you were scared? And didn’t wanna fuck anything up?”

It took him a second, but it seemed to finally click in his mind. "Oh, yeah. That." He said, his voice quiet as his face began to turn pink. He groaned and buried his face in his hands, the blush evident on his face due to his pale face. “How much do you remember?"

“All of it. I think.” You mumbled, looking down at your lap. After a moment you snapped your head back up, waving your hands frantically. “Shit, sorry, I should be apologizing for coming onto you like that last night, not drilling you about something you said.”

“No, it’s fine. You were drunk, and drunkenness typically pushes one to act on desire. Hence why people call it ‘liquid courage’.” The blonde said with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. You both sat in silence, him looking down at the floor, you looking down at your lap. But he eventually broke the silence.

“I was scared if you saw my body…you’d leave me.” He mumbled and you looked up in surprise. You wanted to immediately protest, but you knew Katsuki. If he was opening up, it was best to stay quiet and let him finish speaking before saying absolutely anything.

He exhaled through his nose, looking away as his body started shaking a bit. “I…have a lot of scars." He whispered. But that was an obvious statement, you could just look at his face and see the deep scar on the side of his right cheek, or the burn mark on his forearm.

“And honestly there are a lot of reasons recently swirling around in my head on why you should leave me.” He said, fiddling with his calloused fingers. His brows were furrowed, like always, forming a grumping look on his face. But his crimson eyes glinted with worry, hurt.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down before letting go of a shaky breath, staring at the pattern on the blankets. “And my biggest reason is that I have severe mental issues.” He mumbled quickly, refusing to make eye contact. He clearly meant all the fights the class had been put through, all of the pain and damage he had endured.

There was a small pause. Then;

"I'm a fucking freak."

You looked over at him, clearly upset he would think such a thing. He wasn’t a freak. Not for having mental issues, or having trauma or PSTD, or scars, or anything from events that would obviously cause such things, or in general. Hell, you and your own fair share of mental issues.

You didn’t even know if he was done or not, but you leaned over and gave him the biggest freaking bear hug you could muster. He looked at you in surprise as he felt you nestle into his neck, followed by a dampness on his skin.

“Why’re you cryin’?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as you kept your arms wrapped around him. He was surprised—he felt like if anyone was supposed to be crying, it was him. That’s what happened in movies and shows anyways. But here you were, letting tears fall over his words.

“Cause I don’t want you to feel like that…” You mumbled against his skin. You didn’t know if this was the hangover or what, but hearing such a strong, unbreakable man say that you made him scared, worried, all of that hurt. Because you didn’t want to make him feel that way. You wanted to make him feel loved. “Cause you’re not a freak. You’re my boyfriend. You’re a future pro hero.”

You looked up at him, wiping away your tears as you locked eyes with his own glossy ones. You knew he wouldn’t let his tears fall, but it was still obvious he was emotionally touched. You gave him a lopsided, hopeful smile before quoting a show you guys had watched early into the relationship. “You’re Katsuki fuckin’ Bakugou.”

“Okay nerd.” He said with an eye roll and a small huff, the corners of his mouth turning up as he tried to push you away a little. You smiled and let go of him, leaning into him after a moment. You could wait however long to do anything with him. Sex included. You just wanted to make sure he felt happy. That you both did.

“…besides, I think scars are sexy.”

“Oh do you?”

“Mmmmhm.”

[waffle-runian]

Not to diverge much, or to hijack the conversation, but I'm gonna write about "translating art" a bit. I hope that it makes sense.

So, this feels like when I first started reading fantasy. Writing is a form of art that I love very much, so I remember a lot about my first impressions and all. I specifically remember reading a book about magic, the first book I bought because I wanted to read and nothing else. It was in a world where magic would be a focal point, get described with care and detail. Then idk, a popular book series about a demigod teenager that could control water, and what do you know? The water was described in full, the friendship, different dialogues, puns, the color of the eyes.

Then I read another series, this one about a boy with a dream and with a reality that made it difficult for him to pursue it, of course, the description of his sadness was longer too, his physical attributes were important, and they got a lot of attention, but not all the time either, and not really that in depth. What got the most attention were the comparisons, where he came short, and where coming short of something was being ahead on other things.

I remember reading a book following the story of a bard. It was art about art itself, in my opinion. Everything was described vividly. Stunning visuals, I could almost hear a song that doesn't even have a melody, I could grasp the process of creation without creating. It was something I was very bad at, after all. The author could make anything look beautiful and magical, even when it was the most ordinary of things.

Then came the magic. Well, part of it. It was logic, almost physics-like, followed hard rules, and you guessed it, the process of creation through it was also interesting. But then came the magic. Again. The magic that was hinted at, the soft kind, the magical kind, the one you have been preparing for up until now. The one that would require you to appreciate the art in order to understand, to appreciate everything as an artist. To see beyond what it is, what it is made of, what it looks like. To see inside, to see what it can be, what it represents and what it wants. In a way, to see it for what it _is_ (a different "is").

From top to bottom

Mage - Raymond E. Feist.

Percy Jackson - Rick Riordan

Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan

The name of the Wind - Patrick Rothfuss.

Rothfuss' writing isn't for everyone in a different way than the others. I don't know if I could explain it if I tried, but honestly? I feel great that it's something fewer people appreciate. This is, obviously, my take on those books. The actual intent behind it may differ strongly, but I don't think it matters, since art is something normally made to provoke thought and feelings. We hope the audience can get close to what we meant to say, but when they don't, we are happy that they got to experience something positive from our words/drawings/songs, etc.

I see his as the most complex out of these, the one that resonated the most with me, I guess? Probably because of the main character being the most relatable. And if just the eyes that tell the story can change so much about it, shouldn't we put much more thought into what our art could look like for people that can't "see" it the same as us? Like I already said, most of the time, your meaning will be lost, so, if you're "translating" art, how can you get close to this new audience's heart?

I mean, translating is all about that too. You can't just use the best words you think of and be done. Brazilian dubbing is famous for making jokes almost never fall flat.

If you localize the joke, you get a better reaction than when you explain the joke that only works in the original language (even though I am the kind of person that learns a language to appreciate the original material instead, and that's the reason I speak english.)

Anyway, if I got something wrong, just correct me, and if I don't get it, I'll ask.

"In recent years, there has been a rush on the internet to supply image descriptions and to call out those who don’t. This may be an example of community accountability at work, but it’s striking to observe that those doing the most fierce calling out or correcting are sighted people. Such efforts are largely self-defeating. I cannot count the times I’ve stopped reading a video transcript because it started with a dense word picture. Even if a description is short and well done, I often wish there were no description at all. Get to the point, already! How ironic that striving after access can actually create a barrier. When I pointed this out during one of my seminars, a participant made us all laugh by doing a parody: “Mary is wearing a green, blue, and red striped shirt; every fourth stripe also has a purple dot the size of a pea in it, and there are forty-seven stripes—”

“You’re killing me,” I said. “I can’t take any more of that!”

Now serious, she said it was clear to her that none of that stuff about Mary’s clothes mattered, at least if her clothes weren’t the point. What mattered most about the image was that Mary was holding her diploma and smiling. “But,” she wondered, “do I say, Mary has a huge smile on her face as she shows her diploma or Mary has an exuberant smile or showing her teeth in a smile and her eyes are crinkled at the edges?”

It’s simple. Mary has a huge smile on her face is the best one. It’s the don’t-second-guess-yourself option."

--Against Access, by John Lee Clark, a DeafBlind educator

[anadiasmount]

Could you write something about jude realising he’s in love with you (so just his pov)

Just him alone in his room maybe and after so much time denying his feelings he lets himself feel for a little and then realises there’s no back to normal, he’s completely head over heels for you

wait i actually love this?? lmk what you think for future purposes 🤭🤍

while jude always denied to idea of love, falling in love, being in love, there was certain exceptions he made just for you. only you. how he could deny that bubbly and tingly feeling when he saw that smile crawl up to your face?

hear you constantly gush, praise, and adore him about how incredibly he was to you. what you didn’t know is that only you were the only one he was doing this too. he should’ve seen it coming after the first month of him in madrid, new, afraid, yet excited to take on his first season.

while jude sometimes felt shy, with you it was like being a whole complete person. his friends would see it, mom and dad, he’ll even jibe was asking what made this new persona in him suddenly change. it was your effect.

yet here was jude sulking with the biggest frown on his face, his thumbs brushing against the screen debating whether or not to send you a message or just say fuck it and call you. jude knew you would be busy studying on a saturday night, especially since your mid terms were coming up. thinking about how you forced him to help you study your flashcards and he took the whole act seriously.

jude felt out of place, and all he wanted was to be with you so desperately. the longing feeling, to feel how you curl up next to him, blabber about the tiktoks you see or your professor who seemed to teach the opposite of what they were supposed to. why did he feel so desperate, the itch becoming more difficult to the point where his chest would begin to pang with pain at the thought of you not there.

“just call her bro, what do you have to lose?” jude’s teammate encouraged over the phone, jude sideyeing him before he gave up and did just that. he typed out your number, wanting to remember it because he never knew when he may need it. the bubble of excitement yet nerves built insides him, jude sipping on his tea before he heard your tired voice.

“hi jude, to what do i owe this pleasure?” you teased, jude holding back a chuckle before replying. “ha ha, very funny. what are you up to right now?” he asked playing with the strings of his hoodie, “i just finished studying for the night, i couldn’t focus properly but it was the same material from this whole week,” you sighed. “is everything okay?” jude asked, practically seeing your nod over the phone. “yes it is now.”

“do you want to come over?”

if jude spent another hour debating he would’ve lost it. but now that you were here, right where he wanted, he wasn’t going to let you go. “okay cookies are made!” you said excitedly, jus expressing behind you and kissing your head. his normal and lovey habit. which you didn’t refuse either. “i picked out a few movies we can watch in the mean time,” he said dragging you to the couch.

jude’s heart couldn’t stop racing. he felt like he could’ve exploded any second now. your scent, the homey feeling, your smile, your touch it was driving him insane. he knew it was beyond playful feelings. he was head over heels for you, and if he didn’t confess now he would regret it later on. he shifted in his spot, making you pull away from him while still watching the tv. “come back here,” jude pouted.

“you’re so needy,” you joked but it was the whole truth. “y/n?” jude’s voice trembled, your eyes drawn to his immediately to ensure he was okay. jude felt a cold tingle spread down his spine, feeling more alive then ever. “what’s wrong-”

“you know you mean the world to me right?” jude started shifting up and getting closer to you, your touch hot against his hands. “i do?” jude nodded, tracing his initials against your skin. “you’re my whole world, y/n…”

“jude stop joking like that,” you pulled away, looking him up and down, but you could tell something felt different from this, from usual times. “i’m not, im being serious right now. i’ve avoided it forever with fear of hurting you or what we have but i don’t care about that now. i’m done waiting and avoiding how i feel,” jude stressed.

“what are you saying,” you asked, jude’s heart wrenching and pounding louder then when he played a game. “i’m saying that i love you and i have for the longest now,” jude said staring into your eyes but all he heard was laughter escaping your lips. “yeah you’ve lost it now,” you got up and went to the kitchen unable to get rid of the gut feeling.

jude was more nervous then ever, your small rejection getting to him more then it should’ve. “y/n why would i lie to you about something like that? you’re all i think about day and night. during training, when i see those silly panda stickers all over my room, or that damn scent you have engraved here,” he pointed to his chest.

“i’m so incredibly in love with you y/n. im tired of just pushing my feelings away because i was being selfish. im ready now, im ready for you. for us. i want to whatever it takes to make you happy with me. all i want is you, you y/n,” jude cried out, his voice pleading the hear him out. to take him out the misery he felt. for you to confess as well.

“jude-”

“y/n please say you love me back… that’s there’s a chance for us, please my love…”

[mustainegf]

Hi Elena!

I took a deep breath and assembled my guts to send a non-anonymous request 😂.

It’s the classic trope of being James’s controversially younger GF. She has a secret insta account so she occasionally checks the comments. And many people criticize her for being a gold digger and using James to get famous (despite she got no official social media accounts and doesn’t do events, unless she’s there with James). But she’s mostly saddened because they criticize him and call him a pervert for being with a much younger woman. So she decides to break up with him for his sake and public image, but never tells him it was because of cyber bullying.

And maybe a few weeks after the break up, one of other band members shows him the comments and some fans are celebrating that they broke up. And he realizes the true reason for the break up? And in the end, they reconcile and maybe he makes a statement asking everyone to respect his personal life?

I’m a big fan your blog, so hopefully you’ll like the request sgd will consider writing a story 😊. No pressure though))

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ²⁰²³

Just all attention that I never wanted, and people obviously stared, judged, and picked apart everything that I was doing, making me super exposed in the most unimaginable way. But yeah, that is a given when you're dating somebody like James Hetfield. Perhaps his name fills up stadiums and blows up newsfeeds.

So looking back, I didn't know what lay ahead as I met him. It was obviously just me and him at first, laughing at little stuff and having a good time over music and life. It was like finally, here's someone who understands me in a way nobody ever has. But man, it all flipped once we went public.

It just seemed like, overnight, it wasn't just us anymore. I never thought it would blow up this bad. People thought I was in it for all the wrong reasons, that I was a gold digger trying to leech off of his fame. But to be honest, the worst of it all wasn't even what they said about me, it was the stuff they said about him.

"He's a pervert."

"How could he be with someone so young?

"They look ridiculous together."

All that that was commented on, I could have completely avoided. I didn't have any social media other than this private Instagram for my use. Yet, honestly, I'd be lying if I said that I never went onto it. I would scroll through and read the comments of some random fan posting in search of some sort of acceptance. But of course, it was just the same brutal tale, the fans tore into James, calling him a creep for even dating anyone of my age.

Man, that hurt. It was not about me, the rumors and all the whispering around, I could handle it. It just was for him, you know? He was a legend, he'd given so much to the world with his music. And now, it felt like people were just using me to take shots at his legacy.

He had totally missed those comments. James wasn't the type to spend too much time online. The real world was sufficient for him.

He had been so nice to me, really supportive, and utterly clueless about all the hate coming our way. He was of the opinion that what we had was strong and would get us through anything. I wanted that to be true, too. Yet, with every post claiming him a creep, or that he's lost all his dignity, I was just simply ruining his reputation.

I liked him so much, and because of that, I made the toughest decision: I broke up with him.

I didn't tell him what it really was for. I just told him I needed space. Of course, he didn't get it. How could he? Everything was all right; there wasn't a fight or at least any huge issue.

I could definitely see the confusion and pain in his eyes as I walked out that day. It really got to me, but I kept telling myself, it's all for his good. He would be much better off in the long run rather than having me holding him back in front of his fans.

The weeks that succeeded seemed to be like a vacuum. I missed him more than I had ever thought I would: how he hummed a tune of some old song while cooking or how he stared at me as though nobody existed in a room full of people. I never changed my mind but kept my distance and followed his movements through whispers of mutual friends, sometimes in the news and other media.

So, one day, this was the fan post I came across from my secret Instagram feed: an appreciation post due to our breakup, saying, "Finally, James can move on and find someone better." Plenty of those comments, cheering on the end of us and acting like they knew what was good for him. Well to be frank, part of me was relieved; I did make the right choice.

But another part of me kinda felt gross, I guess. These people didn't know him like I did. They didn't see the dude behind the music, the one that'd hug me tight after a long day and make everything feel okay.

A few weeks passed, then finally I heard from James himself, by that time I had thought he'd moved on, found his peace in the break up. One of the band members showed him the comments, Lars, if I can recall. I didn't expect that. I thought all the poisonous words of the fans would never find their way to him, that he would never have to see just how cruel people could be. But Lars showed him, and suddenly everything came back.

I got his call pretty soon afterwards. His voice sounded just like it was then, chilled yet serious, in a continuous effort to sort out something big.

He asks, "Why didn't you just tell me.?"

Well, I played the role of clueless well, like I didn't know what he was talking about, but James really wasn't buying that. He got it, saw comments, accusations, those low remarks, judgments, and thus put them together. He knew why I had bailed.

"I thought it was best that way," I finally managed to respond.

"For who?" he asked in a voice that was slightly hoarse.

"For you," I said; my voice was all choked up. "I didn't want people constantly putting you down because of me."

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the line for a long period of time. Then he spoke again, "I don't care what they say, you know?"

All I wanted was to just have the ability to trust him, but I knew words cut, even when people act like it did not hurt. I knew how committed he was with his legacy, how the fans looked up to him. I just did not want to be that to ruin it.

"I care," I said softly. "I just can't handle them ripping you to shreds because of me."

After some time, the reply came in the form of James's soft, subdued voice, "I want you, not them."

This well of my tears, you know the ones that almost spill but hold back. He was too good, you know. He was so understanding, and all the time. Yet, I did not know whether this could mend that which already was messed up.

Days later, James gave a statement to the public. He did not name anybody, but it was like you could read between the lines. He was asking for respect, not just for himself but for the people surrounding him, he owed no one explanation for whom he chose to love, this is his own thing. And honestly, if people are not able to handle it, then maybe they were never true fans to begin with.

The weight of his words was much heavier than what I could ever have imagined. Just words, but powerful words,he was defending me, defending us, in a manner I couldn't even have imagined, and it suddenly felt like this cross of public opinion wasn't weighing on me as much as I thought it had been.

After that statement, James called me up again, and this time I didn't give it a second thought. We met, and the very moment I saw him, everything fell in place once again, the stress, the distance, just gone in his arms.

"I never wanted to hurt you," I said, my voice all shaky.

"You didn't," he said, reaching and pulling me close. "I only wish you had told me sooner."

Of course, people judge and whisper behind our backs, but honestly, that doesn't weigh me down like it used to, since now I have James with me, and I know what we have is tougher than anything those random people can say.

This time I am definitely hanging on.

[promptcorner]

My first grade teacher did this to me when I was in elementary school…

It was October, so we had a themed project. Her Teacher Help (I forgot the name of this teacher job) handed out a piece of paper to each classmate. On the paper was a story a few sentences long, four I think, so a paragraph, about trick-or-treaters going to get candy. I don’t remember the story that well, but it was a couple of kids doing a Halloween thing.

We were told to write the same story, word for word underneath it where some blank lines were. This was to practice reading, spelling, and handwriting. I didn’t catch any of it and immediately wrote more of the story from where it left off. I wrote so much that I filled the back side and wanted more paper.

When I raised my hand and asked the Help to get me more paper, she said, “Oh, you did the project all wrong, you have to write down what’s there. You’ll have to re-do it.”

So, she gave me a blank piece of paper and sat with me to make sure that I did it. I refused at first, because I liked the story that I wrote. It had an unknown creature hunting them, but they were about to be saved! But I had to scrap everything and write down the same thing as everyone else.

I did write it, but I had wet eyes while writing. I didn’t make eye contact with that person or my teacher for the rest of the day.

That event broke me in such a way that I refused to write anything for that school since. Since I was in the special needs group, I had to have several special Ed teachers by my side. My hand writing was shit, so I never had the chance to write by myself. If I had to write a story, mostly in the computer lab, I would throw a fit. I only wrote stories at home. I never felt comfortable there.

I think I escaped this type of molding because I was stubborn and refused to take part in writing for so long. And re-started homeschooling. It got to the point where I didn’t believe that I was good at it. But I found comics and started writing again in middle school.

I was lucky, looking back. But I’m still carrying that moment in my head, “Your doing it wrong, start over.”As a child of teachers, loving teachers, they would never say that. I was lucky.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[tune-on-in-folks]

Angry Sex with Ex!Vox? They’re both secretly still pining for each other but are too stubborn to admit it so it builds up until one day they’re fighting and it snaps and smut ensues??

BEHOLD, I HAVE RETURNED. Just two weeks late as to when this should have been posted on the 18th of October. For some reason this prompt killed me, and in my brain I wasn't allowed to write anything else until this was done. Well it's done! So, let's all ignore the fact that it's November.

Thank you, anonny, for this prompt, it's a good one, I apologize it took so long. (Also I'm posting this now so I don't try to rewrite this. This version is the fifth rewrite.) Haha! I hope you enjoy~ :D

Tags/Warnings: Smut, P in V sex, fingering, fem!receiving multiple orgasms, angry sex, arguments, sex as punishment kinda?, dub-con for that reason solely, squirting, possessive Vox, jealous Vox. Word Count: 2,988

Vox was insufferable.

It had been two months since the two of you had broken up. You had grown tired of being second best to his company, to the Vees. You were his partner, his lover. Why did you always get overlooked? Why did you always have to fight him just to get him to go on a date with you? It had happened enough that you had started wondering if he actually loved you. Or if you were nothing more than an excuse and a convenient fuck. So you had broken up with him.

He had broken your heart, but you still fucking loved the man. Worse than that, you missed him. It didn’t help that you were surrounded by reminders of him daily. You woke up everyday in your VoxTek issued employee apartment, put on your uniform that had his symbol on it, and had to preach about his products and company day in and day out. You had tried quitting, tried getting another job. But every attempt was moot because he was the one who had the say if you stayed or went. Instead, he had made certain that you would always have to report to him personally. Which you hated. Because he consistently made it a point to argue with you, to try and guilt you because you had left him.

 Vox was hurt. In fact that was an understatement, he had been absolutely gutted when you had broken up with him. You had marched into his office two months ago, told him you were tired of being second to his company and that you were done. He had laughed, because you couldn’t possibly be serious. But you had been, and he realised it that night when he had come home to an empty apartment, all of your belongings gone. He had been a wreck privately for days afterward. Two months later, he missed you and as much as he denied it, he still loved you. He had spent the last month reflecting on why you had left, taking everything you said in your near daily fights, into account. A part of him still wanted you, the part of him that still loved you. But the other part of him, that was angry and hurt, wanted nothing more than for you to suffer. Especially when he caught wind of the fact that you had a date tonight. Which is why he called you up to his office, using your latest report as an excuse.

He sat up when you entered, pushing down the excitement he felt whenever he saw you. You had broken his heart, why it still beat for you, he didn't know.

He says your name softly, before clearing his throat. “Your latest report is absolute garbage.”

It wasn't.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you lean your weight on one leg. Great, he was picking a fight immediately. 

“No the fuck it isn't. That's the same format I always use. The one you said you like.” You sigh, rubbing your face, already expecting a bad argument, “Seriously, Vox, what's the real reason I'm here?”

You were certain he had caught wind of the fact that you had a date tonight. Which was precisely the reason you didn't want to be having a conversation with him. You were trying to move on, that's what you told yourself at least. But the truth was that you had no interest in your poor date. Your heart still beats for Vox and only him, regardless of if you wanted it to or not.

He leans back in his chair, his expression hardening. “I heard you have a date tonight.”

Ah, so he had heard, at the very least he didn’t deny that was the real reason he’d called you up.

“Yes I do, actually-”

“Cancel it.” He cuts you off.

A baffled laugh escapes your lips. “Excuse me?”

“I said cancel. It.” He growls, eyes meeting yours as he leans forward.

You shake your head, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh yeah, sure, let me just cancel my date because my boss said so… Go fuck yourself.”

You turn away from him, intent on leaving. You didn’t have the energy to have another fight, to push down what you truly wanted to say. Vox’s brows furrow, his left eye gaining the black spiral, betraying his rising anger. Sparks of electricity arc off him.

“We’re in the middle of a conversation, so don’t you even think about leaving. What do you see in this guy anyway? He’s undeserving of you.” He hisses, his eyes never leaving you once.

You turn back around scoffing, “So are you! You never deserved me, Vox. So no, I will not ‘cancel’ my date just because you’re pissy I’m moving on.”

You take long strides towards his desk, slamming your hands down against the surface as he grits his teeth. You were in too deep now, the words had already started and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop until you were completely burnt out.

“I broke up with you, I’m moving on, let me go and stop perpetuating this.” You meet his gaze head-on, steeling yourself against the anger in his eyes. “I. Don’t. Love. You.”

A flicker of hurt flashes in his expression but it’s gone in an instant. “You expect me to believe that? That you don’t love me?”

You break eye-contact. You were angry and hurt, but you’re unable to keep looking him in the eye as you force yourself to lie. “I don’t. Haven’t in months, why do you think I broke up with you?”

He laughs in disbelief, but you can hear the sadness. He considers your words, wondering if they were true. Had you fallen out of love with him months before you even broke up?

“Months?” There’s disbelief in his voice when he finally speaks, but underlying it is a fear that it was true.

“Months.” You confirm ruthlessly, the words spilling from you, “Why would I love a man who makes no time for me? Who lies to me, makes excuses, and gives me empty apologies?”

You begin to pace, ignoring the lights flickering around you both. You were accustomed to his powers messing with the power whenever the two of you bickered. He stands up, approaching you with every word you speak.

“Every missed date, it was another half-assed reason why you couldn’t make it! About why your company was more important than me, why you had to be at work instead.” You rant. “I eventually stopped trying. It was easier than having to feel the sting of disappointment-”

Your voice catches in your throat, the emotion hitting you full force. You hadn’t stopped for a moment in the last two months to sit and process your feelings after you had left Vox.

Swallowing, you force yourself to finish your thought, “As once again, I wasn’t important enough!”

“Not important enough?” He growls, “Of course you were fucking important! You were always more important than my fucking company! But I was working because I wanted you to never have to work another day in your after-life. I was doing it for you! For us!”

You laugh, tears spilling down your cheeks, the warmth of them startling you. “Yeah, real fucking nice of you, Vox. I didn’t want or need that. What I wanted, what I fucking needed, was the man I loved!”

You take another step back as he continues to advance on you. “But what could I expect from a man married to his job? I doubt I was even a thought in your head. Did you ever even love me?-”

Your back hits the wall, expelling the air from your lungs as he slams his hands above your head, boxing you in. There’s genuine anguish on his face at your words.

His voice is low and dangerous, “Don’t you ever question that I loved you, doll. I loved you with all my heart and soul. I still love you.”

He doesn’t give you anytime to respond, crashing his lips down against yours in a bruising kiss. He kisses you like a man starved, desperation evident in every moment. He moves his hands to your waist, dragging you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You whimper, feeling the walls you had meticulously built around your heart shatter in an instant. With his mouth on yours, his body pressing against you, you could almost forget how hurt you had been. Could almost pretend that everything was okay, that neither of you had hurt each other. But the truth was ugly, forcing you to break the kiss.

“Vox..” You pant, eyes fluttering close as he trails kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at your skin.

He squeezes your waist, his grip hard enough to hurt. You can feel the anger simmering underneath the surface of his body, can feel it in the way he’s tensed. You can tell with how the lights continue to flicker around you both. He slides a hand to your ass, squeezing hard, his claws bite into your skin, drawing blood. He grinds against you, pressing his growing arousal against your stomach.

“I’m going to make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” He growls.

It’s a threat that you take seriously even as it sends heat pooling between your legs. He grabs your skirt, tightening his grip around the material and pulling. The sound of it tearing meets your ears before it falls to the floor in tatters, exposing your cyan panties to him. A pair he had gifted you.

His eyes flash with anger, the room suddenly plunging into darkness, save his face. “You were wearing these for that fucker, weren’t you?”

His claws slice through your panties, causing you to gasp.

“Vox, no, I-” You try, a whimper escaping you as he slices through your shirt, exposing the matching bra.

“You thought you could just wear a set I gifted you for someone else?” He shredded the bra in turn. “Well now you can’t.”

You groan, anger flooding you anew. “You asshole! That was my fav-”

His fingers slip between your thighs, rubbing against your clit harshly, cutting you off. He slips two fingers inside your already dripping entrance.

“So wet already.” He mutters, “You really were expecting to get fucked tonight, weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t, actually.” You gasp, rolling your hips down against his hand.

It had been months since he had kissed you, had touched you. His touch on you felt electric, your body responding readily. He curls his fingers up against your g-spot, massaging the spot with barely contained anger. His thumb presses into your clit roughly, each touch against it in time with the increasing speed of his fingers pumping into you. You can feel your pleasure growing, the coil in your gut winding tighter with every passing moment.

“Yeah, right.” He growls, “Look at you, you’re already about to cum.”

You whine, annoyed at the fact that he could read your body so well. Could tell by the way your walls fluttered around his fingers that you were close.

“Oh, fuck-” You cry out, your release slamming over you. “You.”

He chuckles, the sound deep in his chest as he works you through your release, reaching to free his erection. “Oh, I’m going to, babydoll.”

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he frees his cock, stroking it a few times. He groans at his own touch, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He spins you around, pressing your chest against the wall as he lines his cock up with your entrance. He doesn’t wait, slamming his cock into you forcibly. You cry out at the burn of his cock stretching you. Your body tries to pull away from him as he drags you down onto his length. But you can’t deny how good it feels to have him back inside you.

“Fuccck.” He groans, rolling his hips into you, pressing deeper. “So fucking tight. Your pussy was made for me and only me.”

He pulls out slowly only to sharply thrust back into you, setting a bruising pace immediately. Your moans fill the air, mixing with the sounds of skin against skin. The wet slap of his cock pummeling in and out of you is nearly deafening. He tightens one of his hands around your hip, holding you in place as he reaches for your neck. He pulls you from the wall, forcing you to arch your back, his hand squeezing around your neck tightly. He grunts, feeling your walls flex around his cock. You close your eyes, whimpers falling from your mouth as he continues pounding into you. The coil of pleasure was wound tightly in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment.

“Please.” You choke out, tears biting the corners of your eyes.

You were so close and he knew it. He shifts his hips slightly, hitting your g-spot over and over. His mouth brushes against your ear, his hand around your throat tightening.

“Look at you.” He growls, “So desperate for my cock, so desperate to cum.”

You reach for his hand around your throat, clawing at his skin as he cuts off your airways. He loosens his grip slightly, allowing you to catch your breath. His pace never falters, his balls slapping against your clit with every punishing thrust.

“What will your date say when you show up dripping with my seed?” He growls, sliding his hand from your waist to rub your clit.

You whimper, focusing on your pleasure, on the fact that you were right on the precipice of your release. He grunts from the effort of his pace, his cock twitching inside you as his own release grows closer.

“Cum for me, babydoll.” He commands, “Let me feel how much you still need me.”

“Fuck!” You scream, a particularly hard thrust from him sending you off that edge.

Your walls squeeze around his cock, your body quaking as a rush of liquid erupts from your body. Vox moans as you squirt, slamming into you roughly as he fucks you through your release. He grunts, burying himself as deep as he can go. His cock twitches, ropes of hot cum flooding into your womb.

“That’s it,” He groans, “take every drop, you’re mine, all mine.”

His hand squeezes around your neck once more before falling away. He rocks his hips against you, breathing heavily as you both come down. His cock begins to soften, slipping out of your abused hole. His seed mixed with your own release runs down your legs. He steps back, releasing you. Your legs give out from underneath you at the lack of support. Just before you hit the ground, Vox scoops you into his arms, holding you close to him. 

“Damn, I’m sorry, doll.” He apologises, no anger left in his voice, only remorse as he brushes hair out of your face.

His touch is soft, no anger simmering beneath it. You meet his gaze in the low-light of his office, his seed dripping out of you.

“You know,” You whisper, your voice hoarse, “You can’t fuck me and expect everything to be okay.”

“I know.” He mutters, sadness filling his eyes. “I fucked up, I took you for granted, and I hurt you. I’m truly sorry, I never meant to break your heart, doll. I know you probably won’t forgive me, but I can’t live without you. You’re everything to me and I don’t know what I’ll do if I’ve truly lost you. Please tell me, I haven’t.”

Your expression softens, as you search his gaze, finding only sincerity shining in his eyes. His apology was late, and you wished he had said it sooner. Wish he hadn’t fought you so much the last two months, but late was better than never.

“You broke my heart, Vox. My trust.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I know I’m not blameless in this, but… I need you to try. I can’t be second to your company, I won’t wait around for you if all you have to offer me is empty promises.”

His heart skipped a beat, hope filling him, it wasn’t much but it was something. It was enough.

“Let me win you back.” He says quickly, “I swear to you, I will work to win back your heart, to earn your trust again. I will put you above everything else. I love you.” 

He presses a gentle kiss against your lips, pulling back to whisper, “Let me show you that.”

You take a deep breath, wondering if you were about to make a mistake, “One chance, Vox. That’s all you get. No matter how much I love you, I can’t let you break my heart again.”

He smiles, a large genuine smile that has your stomach doing flips. That was the smile you had fallen in love with.

“That’s all I need.” He murmurs, brushing his lips against yours again.

You feel a rush of warmth surround you as he teleports you both through his cameras, coming out in his suite. He carts you towards his bedroom, the bedroom the both of you had once shared. The bedroom you’d share with him again.

“Now,” He smirks, dropping you onto his bed. “I think it’s about time I make love to you.”

You roll your eyes, feeling your heart skip a beat regardless as he crawls over you, nudging your legs apart. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a loving kiss. You didn’t know if you’d regret giving him another chance; To love you, to regain your trust, and to prove to you that you were more important than his company. But you also knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be than in his arms.

So maybe he was worth it.

[spiderb00]

Can I request reader surprising Lara from Katseye for her birthday? Thanks

Nights like this - Lara Raj

Lara Raj X reader 

Synopsis: Surprising your girlfriend isn't so easy, but you soon discover that everything with her is amazing 

Genre: Fluff 

a/n: Lara is so… I love her. well, that took a while, but I think I'm happy with it. I don't know if it's as you imagined, but I hope you like it <3

(I may have made a mistake in the writing, but I think nothing too big).  

Yn was freaking out. She was never the kind of person who followed a routine or made a schedule to follow. She was a free soul, whatever had to happen would happen. 

That was why she was losing her mind over the birthday of her girlfriend, Lara Raj. For the first time in her entire life, Yn wanted everything to follow a script, for everything to be perfect and for her to be able to make her girlfriend feel loved and important. 

What at first seemed easy and quick became a total mess in Yn's hands. The plan was for her to take Lara to a nice dinner where they would have fun and be the extremely cute and powerful couple that they were, and then Yn would take her home, where her family and the Kats would wait for her with a surprise. 

Yn's desperation began to set in when she was in the car, going to pick up Lara. Her phone rang with a call from Dani, who was talking too fast for Yn to understand. 

"Dani, Dani! I'm seriously not understanding anything you're talking about." 

Yn heard doors closing on the other end of the line, and imagined that Daniela was going to a more private place. 

"Yn, the cake is not here!" 

Yn felt her heart stop. 

"WHAT? What do you mean the cake is not here?" 

"Exactly what I meant you idiot, the cake is not here. You said it would come this morning." 

Yn ran her hand over her face, frustrated and thinking about what she was going to do, there were less than ten minutes left for her to arrive to pick up Lara. A thousand thoughts in her mind and none seemed enough to solve this situation. 

That's when Yn pulled the steering wheel to the right and entered a completely different street. 

"Okay, pay attention Dani. I'm going to get the cake, and you're going to have to be as fast as you can to get it out of my car without Lara noticing. Is that okay?" 

"It's okay, I'll talk to the girls. Be quick, Lara is going crazy here." 

So as soon as Dani hung up the phone, Yn did everything she could as quickly as possible. Luckily for her, the cake was ready and the attendant apologized a thousand times for her order not being delivered as it should. 

When she stopped at the Kats' house, her stomach dropped. The nervousness not only for everything to work out with the surprise party, but the emotion and butterflies in the stomach of seeing Lara. 

When Yn got out of the car, Lara was already coming towards her. Her blue dress highlighted her curves and the contrast with her jewelry made her look like the most beautiful woman in the world, which she was in Yn's eyes. 

"My God, you are the most beautiful woman in this whole world." 

Yn said as she caught Lara in a hug, twirling the girl in the air as the birthday girl laughed. 

"You're the best girlfriend in the world." Lara said while laughing at the surprised expression on her girlfriend's face. 

"Well, I have to have done something very good to deserve you." Yn said as she approached Lara to give the girl a kiss. 

"Hey, not in front of my child!" sophia said as she covered Yoonchae's eyes. Lara and Yn with a smile on their faces. Sophia giving Yn a look that made her look back.

Looking now at a Daniela and Megan trying to carry a large box of cake while Manon tried to close the door of her car silently. These girls were supposed to win a prize, Yn had never seen them being so sneaky in her entire life. 

"Well, can we go now?" Lara says as she tries to turn towards her girlfriend's car. 

"NO!" Yn and Sophia screamed at the same time, causing Lara to stop and give them both strange looks. 

"I mean, I have to tell Yn not to come back late." Sophia says, Yoonchae holding her laugh by her side. 

"It's okay Sophia, I'll bring her home early." Yn says strangely, trying to get into Sophia's story to buy time. 

"You guys are very strange." Lara says as she takes Yn's hand and drags her towards the car, which was now free, Daniela, Manon, and Megan hiding somewhere.

In the restaurant everything seemed to go the way Yn had planned. When Yn and Lara were together, nothing could be bad. 

"I really want to spend the rest of my life with you," Yn says, taking Lara's hand. 

Lara smiled, she seemed to be delighted with everything. The restaurant looked perfect, with a view of the sea and wonderful food. She couldn't take her eyes off her girlfriend and they never ran out of topics, talking all night about silly things to deep conversations about the future. 

"I love you so much. This is all just incredible. Thank you for doing this for me.” Lara says, her thumb drawing circles on Yn's hand. 

"I just want to make you feel like the queen you are." Yn says kissing Lara's hand. 

The two stood there, admiring each other's every detail. The love in their eyes spoke more than any words. 

In the car, everything seemed calm, familiar, almost as if everything was domestic. Yn driving with one hand on Lara's thigh, the girl in the passenger seat with her arm outstretched caressing Yn's hair. They were always connected, physically and emotionally. 

Parking at the Kats' house, Yn turned off the car and unbuckled her belt. 

"Are you going to stay for the night?" Lara, asked with enthusiasm, her eyes shining with her girlfriend's actions. 

"Well, I was going to ask to go to the bathroom, but if you want I'll stay." Yn says with a smile, she would do anything Lara asks. 

"Great, so you're staying." Lara said with a smile, leaning in to steal a kiss from her girlfriend. 

when they arrived at the door Yn's heart raced, this was the moment, Yn wanted everything to be perfect. So when Lara opened the door it was as if everything had stopped. 

"SURPRISE!" 

Everyone screamed, everything was beautifully decorated, the Kats were as excited as Lara's family and Yn's heart calmed down to know that everything had worked out. 

Lara looked at everyone with teary eyes, running to hug Rhea and her parents, thanking not only them but the Kats. She didn't know that her night could get any better, and when Megan told her that it had all been her girlfriend's idea, Lara wanted to cry in love. 

pulling Yn to a corner Lara hugged her without saying anything. 

"I love you so much, I've never loved anyone like I love you." Lara says looking into Yn's eyes. 

"You deserve the world, Lara Raj." Yn says, hand on either side of the red-haired girl's face. "I'll give you everything." 

Lara closed the distance between them, the salty taste of Lara's tears of happiness did not hinder the couple from transmitting the love they felt for each other. The two girls thirsty for each other, yearning more by the second. 

"I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you." Lara says. 

"I'll love any day by your side, especially nights like this."

[fangirl-erdariel]

I was gonna put this in the tags but it's gonna get too long to put there easily, so sorry, I'm replying like this

But my answer is, it really depends a lot on the media in question?

Like, the thing is, I've been a Tolkien fan for ten years or thereabouts now, and I've spent most of that time being at least to some degree also a Silmarillion fan. And with Silm fandom, sometimes even with relatively major characters and relationships, there's not that much information actually given about them. Like, there's a lot of filling in blanks involved with the Silm fan experience. So subsequently, in Tolkien fandom, you can persuade me to ship just about anything if there's even a tiniest hint of emotional resonance that can be inferred from something adjacent and I happen to be in the right mood.

Like, I sort of ship Celebrían and Isildur's wife! I've never gotten around to drawing or writing them but I sorta do ship them.

And like, these are characters where... Celebrían.. we know her name, we know who her parents are, who she married in canon, who her children are, and where she lived in some time periods, and the whole "getting kidnapped by orcs and sailing to the West" thing. No personality, hobbies, skills, etc. And Isildur's wife? The fancy word, I believe, is "textual ghost". She technically exists, but we don't even know her name, let alone anything else about her. For fanfic writing purposes, she's a Schrödinger's OC. Evrrything about her, you gotta either make up yourself from scratch like making an OC, or borrow from someone else's fic or headcanon. So we have a background character of whom very little is known, and a character who is for all intents and purposes an OC that happens to slot into a hole in canon. So why do I ship them? Because both of them were (presumably; technically I'm not even sure if it's confirmed that Celebrían did but it seems the most likely option) staying at the same place during a major war that lasted the better part of a decade, and once or twice I thought about what it would be like to be in their place, waiting, far from the fighting and yet knowing that everything about your future hinges on the outcome of the war, and your loved ones are there fighting and even if the war is won you don't know whether they'll survive. And I thought about how those two characters are kinda in the same boat in that regard, and started thinking about how they'd probably talk about it and help each other bear it. And from there it just quickly evolved into shipping. I basically tricked myself into finding emotional resonance in the gaps left by outlines that weren't ever developed into full detailed stories.

So yeah, Tolkien fandom? There, if I'm in the right mood and you introduce me to the concept in the right way, you can make me ship just about anything, up to and including characters that aren't so much characters as holes where a character should go.

But then in a lot of other fandoms, that's not the case? There's some fandoms where I only ship, or could even be persuaded to ship, characters that have a fair bit of on-screen chemistry/whose dynamic is in some way fairly important in the story.

Like, BBC Musketeers? I only really ship a couple of the central canon ships and sorta Porthamis. I probably could be persuaded to ship any of the main boys, and a few major supporting characters wirh established on-screen dynamics, though

Robin of Sherwood? Honestly I barely even ship either Robin and Marion or Robert and Marion, and those are like. Canonical very plot-important ships between the main leads of the show. (Like, to be clear, I don't like mind those romances, I just wasn't super invested in them and my interest was much more in some non-romantic character dynamics and other aspects of the show). I could maybe be persuaded to ship like. some of the other major dynamics between some of the outlaws, but I'm not even sure about that.

So yeah idk it just depends so wildly from fandom to fandom that I struggle to give a definitive genersl answer. Sometimes you can just give me a theme that resonates with me and two barely existent outlines of a character to explore with it and I'll ship it, and other times even getting invested in the most central canon ship is an effort. I've yet to ever ship characters from two completely separate medias. Anyway I would say that even with fandoms where I have ships that I like toying with, shipping is never really the main angle I tend to approach the thing from

Hey, I wanna talk about how we do fandom! I've come to realize that I, personally, tend to differ from many others in that I highly prefer to only engage with a text as it's written, so I don't tend to really like fanon/extremely ooc characterizations and I find it hard to get invested in ships that aren't canon. My way of doing fandom isn't better or worse than anyone else's, but I am curious about how much of a minority I'm in! So:

*We've all seen ships of characters not from the same media and stuff like shipping the concept of ennui with the color blue, okay, I'm asking what you, personally, find compelling!