#and it’s not like it’s one or 2 people either

[vinocean22]

20 Things Spanking Fetishists Have in Common

Sweet Tea

Spankos are soulmates. The fetish hardwires our hearts and minds in remarkably consistent ways that aren’t usually apparent to others, so it’s always a bit magical when we chat. “Holy shit, you get me.” I still find it shocking how much we have in common. Can you relate to this list?

1. We’ve been like this for a very long time.

“I’m a lifelong spanko.” This is common in our community and not all that surprising, as most fetishes are formed during childhood. The vast majority of spankos I’ve met have either been this way for as long as they can remember, or can pinpoint a specific age in childhood when they became preoccupied with thoughts of the act. I can’t personally remember any point in my life when spanking didn’t fascinate me and captivate my attention.

2. It’s not a choice.

For many people, spanking is a kink. They enjoy it and find it sexy, but don’t necessarily consider it a requirement for a good time. For those with the fetish, however, spanking is a need rather than an option. Some of us can appreciate and enjoy other BDSM-related activities like bondage or wax play or needles, but spanking is central to our sexuality. This thing lies at the core of our soul and we couldn’t get rid of it if we tried.

We looked up the word ‘spanking’ in the dictionary as kids, not once but multiple times. This also applied to related words like ‘paddle’, ‘switch’, ‘flog’, ‘discipline’, or ‘punish’. We knew their meanings, of course, but the act of reading the definitions was exciting—arousing, even—though we may have been too young to conceptualize the feeling as sexual. If we studied a foreign language, we sat in class and wondered in the back of our minds, “But what’s the word for ‘spanking’?”

(Is this common with other fetishes? Did foot fetishists look up the words ‘foot’, ‘high heel’, ‘stocking’, etc. at the library, bashfully looking around to make sure no one else would notice? I wonder…)

4. We have, uhhh, ‘issues’ with being around it.

Non-spankos can talk about spanking like it’s nothing, but that’s not the case for people with a fetish for it. We may turn bright red when the topic comes up in conversation or feel the need to leave the room when spankings happen in movies or TV shows. For some, this is because the idea triggers intense arousal, even more so than if straight-up intercourse were playing onscreen. For others, it’s simply too intimate and embarrassing to think about unless we’re by ourselves or discussing it in the context of a sexual encounter. When I was a kid and friends publicly proclaimed, “My mom spanked me yesterday!” I felt absolutely mortified. “How can anyone talk about THAT so casually?”

5. We think about it a looooooot.

Some researcher folks have claimed we all think about sex an average of 18-35 times a day. The fetishists I know think about spanking at least this often if not more, frequently daydreaming about the smacking of butts. A fetish is, by definition, a meticulous obsession. We live and breathe it, and never run out of things to say when chatting with other spankos. We want to meet people like us and TALK about it in detail, even if we never end up playing together. It’s our favorite means of connection.

6. Our fetish has caused us hardship.

“Do you feel like your fetish is a curse?” I’ve seen this asked quite a bit on spanko forums. Most of us had to navigate a number of challenges while growing up with this thing. We felt shame, embarrassment, and isolation after realizing how different we were, and may have worried we were crazy. Our relationships with non-spankos have likely been riddled with intimacy problems because we can’t relate to each other sexually. No matter how kinky or open-minded our partners are, they’re unlikely to understand us unless they have the fetish too. As a result, many spankos become pickier over time, ultimately refusing to date those outside of their orientation. “I’d rather be single than with someone I can’t share this with.” Until we find our people, it’s a lonely world.

7. Spanking takes priority over sex.

Every spanko I’ve ever met has put spanking at the forefront of the itinerary. It’s satisfying in its own right for a lot of folks, whether or not other sexy stuff occurs before or afterward. Some spankos identify as asexual, eschewing intercourse entirely because it doesn’t interest them in the same way discipline does. Others are extremely sexual people who focus on spanking as the main course or frequently indulge as an extended form of foreplay. This is an example of why we might experience difficulty finding balance with non-spanko partners. By the time they’re ready to move onto something else, we’re just getting in the zone.

8. It’s on our mind when we orgasm.

One of the first times I had sex with another spanko, I was blown away by the level of telepathy between us. I closed my eyes and fantasized as he licked my clit. He suddenly paused and smiled. “You’re thinking about having your pants pulled down, aren’t you?” I mean fuck, of course I was, but how did he know?! With a bit more experience in the community, I realized many if not all spankos think about it while they’re getting off. The moment thoughts of discipline enter my mind I’m aroused, but I cool off just as quickly if my focus is drawn elsewhere. If I didn’t think about spanking, I’m not sure I’d ever climax.

9. Most of us have tried switching at least once.

Some spankos like to give and receive in equal share, but many have a preference toward being spanker or spankee. I’ve noticed, though, that even the most stubborn of us who proclaim, “I don’t switch!” have tried a taste of the other side out of curiosity at some point. It makes sense to want to learn all angles of the equation. I’m in favor of the idea that everyone benefits from switching. Understanding what our partners experience makes us all better lovers.

10. We want spankings to feel as ‘real’ as possible.

Often, spankees want to cry. We want to be held down and ‘made’ to take it until our spanker is done, no matter what we say or do. This makes the experience feel more real, as if we’re truly being punished by an authority figure and have no choice in the matter. Once trust has been established, some spankees will afford their partners blanket consent and opt not to use safewords. (I don’t recommend this route with anyone you wouldn’t trust with your life. There are oodles of legitimately fucked up people out there masking their abusive tendencies as BDSM. Vet your spankers well, ladies and gents.) This all exists to enhance the pleasure of the fantasy, but isn’t an invitation to violate limits. We want our spankers to be perceptive, taking us just far enough to inspire tears and provide release, but not so far as to genuinely break or traumatize us. Finding this balance is an art form that requires empathy, intelligence, communication, and skill.

11. We all have our preferences.

What implements do you like? What are your favorite positions? What kinds of spankings are your favorite to give? Bruises or no bruises? How long do you like to go for? What kinds of behavior would earn a spanking from you? These are the sexy deets we discuss when we chat, and our answers say a lot about our personalities. It’s rare for a spanko not to have feelings about such things. More often than not, we have specific reasons for liking what we like.

12. We enjoy associated activities.

To state the obvious: spankos love butts. LOOOOOOOOVE them. Naturally, we tend to enjoy other ass-focused activities in conjunction with spanking, like anal play, doggy-style sex, enemas, thermometers, and between-the-cheeks ‘inspections’. Many of us also dig other punishment-related activities traditionally associated with spanking, like corner time or writing lines. “I will not behave like such a sassy little brat. I will not behave like such a sassy little brat…”

13. For us, spanking is its own category.

I’ve noticed a desire in the spanko community to distinguish what we like from the greater umbrella of BDSM. Clearly, spanking incorporates elements of discipline, D/s, and sadomasochism. However, what most of us mean when we mention our fetish is far more specific. We’re not talking whips, dungeons, or shibari. We’re talking traditional, domestic bare-bottom OTK punishment with hands, paddles, belts, wooden spoons, bath brushes, and other goodies found in the home. It’s a comforting, parental, for-your-own-good type of vibe wherein we call our partners Mommy, Daddy, or other titles that convey nurturing familiarity. Very different than, say, having a cold ‘master-slave’ dynamic in a relationship, which tends to be a bit too much for our taste.

14. We love every stage of the process.

A non-spanko might solely imagine the physical slapping of cheeks when we refer to our love of spanking, but that's not the long and short of the matter. Spankos adore the entire arc of the narrative. The misbehavior that led to the spanking. The threats and anticipation. Getting into position. The warm-up and removal of each layer of clothing, all the way until the spankee’s bottom is bared. The swats, first with hands, then a variety of implements. The communication surrounding lecturing and admonishment. The catharsis of tears. The slow tenderness and beauty of aftercare. The closeness the ritual inspires. The intimate drama of this entire process is deeply satisfying.

15. We distinguish between different kinds of spankings.

What is the purpose of the spanking being given? Punishment? Maintenance? Stress relief? Eroticism? This detail is important to us, for it influences the style in which the spanker spanks. Sexual spankings often involve caressing of nether-regions and start off somewhat softly, building in strength at a comfortable pace throughout a drawn-out warm-up period. Punishment spankings embody an entirely different space. They are meant to be intense, painful, and challenging to endure.

16. We watch a lot of the same porn.

My closest spanko friends and I send each other links to videos every so often. “Have you seen this one?” A lot of the time the answer is yes, for we’re drawn to the same spankers, spankees, and couples who create our favorite content. Spanking vids with a glitzier, more porny atmosphere tend to be lower on the ladder than amateur, traditionally domestic ones. Again, we want it all to feel as real as possible. The “we shot this at home while punishing actual misbehavior” setup provides more satisfaction.

17. We don’t usually watch our porn with non-spankos.

Back when I used to date vanilla and guys would ask, “What kind of porn do you watch?” I would lie and pretend porn wasn’t my thing. This is because I knew that what I watch would likely bore them. A clip with fifteen straight minutes of nothing but spanking, sans sex, would likely make a lot of people’s eyes roll back into their sockets. “So monotonous!” Once I started dating spankos, however, I found much joy in sharing, knowing we could relish each and every moment together.

18. We all want a house out in the boonies.

Ask a spanko about their goals for the future and many will answer, “I want to buy land.” This is because our activity of choice is LOUD and has the potential to disturb nearby neighbors. Nothing ruins a good time like a visit from the fuzz. The begging, screaming, and crying… they are cleansing to our souls and we wish to do them freely. It’s countryside living for us, boy howdy.

19. We’re very romantic people.

It comes as no surprise that many spankos are traditionalists. We often relish old-timey acts of devotion like marriage, opening doors, buying flowers, and cooking for our partners. Many are monogamous and like to wait to have sex until deep bonds of commitment are set in stone. Spanking is an extension of this attitude toward intimacy. We’re so deeply devoted to our partners that we refuse to turn our backs on their misbehavior, laziness, procrastination, or feelings of guilt. Instead we stay, face them, and do what must be done to help them deal with their problems, following up with plenty of aftercare involving sweetness and reassurance. Squeeee.

20. We speak the same love language.

For partners with a consensual domestic discipline dynamic, spanking is an act of love. It’s an intimate ritual centering on a potent giving and receiving of attention. A means of setting aside time to converse and communicate about the challenges of relationships and everyday affairs. A tool for strengthening the bond and balancing the energy between spanker and spankee. A way of helping one another feel “right” and “natural” in a world that so often feels like it’s tumbling off its axis. In nonconsensual or manipulative contexts, spanking is abuse. Between those of us who crave it from one other, it’s the highest form of affection.

Granted, these are solely my thoughts based on my own observations and experiences.

Anything to add, spankos?

Reach out, I'd love to hear you : https://www.the-rose-moon.com/post/20-things-spanking-fetishists-have-in-common

[mxrcurysb1tch]

‧₊˚ 🪐༘⋆ જ⁀➴ Astrology observations pt. 4 ‧₊˚🪐༘⋆

Finally back with another post… after a month 😃

⭑.ᐟ The way I like to think about the sun, moon and rising is this: Your moon is who you are when everything else is stripped away from you. It is how you process your emotions and it’s the filter through which you see the world. It is the baseline “you” that you revert back to when you are running on empty. The rising is who you are at your best. When you’re operating from your rising sign you are at your peak performance. It’s probably the you that feels happiest. It is also who you aspire to be in life, who you want to be seen as. The sun is the “middle piece” it’s essence floats throughout your entire chart. I think of it as a subtle influence that underlies every part of you. Whenever you do anything there is always a part of your sun inside that action, thought or decision. I also like to think that the rising sign is the way in which you express your sun. For example, if you’re a Gemini sun and a Leo rising, you will express your Gemini in a Leo way.

⭑.ᐟ Fire moons may have felt like they couldn’t express negative emotions growing up and had to always seem positive and upbeat. Now they might have problems with opening up or admitting that they even experience sadness and pain. They might be masters at putting on a front with people even when they are losing it completely inside.

⭑.ᐟ Venus dominant people/strong Venus ie, Venus in Taurus (or Libra) Venus in 1h, Venus as chart ruler. They might be preoccupied with looks, their own and that of their partner. They can be very picky when it comes to choosing someone to date, which can be a good thing but can sometimes stop them from making real deep connections with people. They need to be careful not to choose people just based on looks.

⭑.ᐟ Saturn and Venus conjunction can look like someone who is blessed with a lot of material wealth but feels like it could be taken away at any time. It could also look like someone who loves to be given princess treatment/spoiled but feels very guilty when receiving money and time from other people. Natives can also feel guilty about their own wealth and have a deep understanding that not everyone is as fortunate as they are.

⭑.ᐟ Women with Capricorn placements / prominent Saturn love getting tattoos and piercings. It’s something about the permanence of it and perhaps a little about the pain… as is Saturn’s “motto”; no pain no gain.

⭑.ᐟ Pluto in the 7h- extreme jealousy in relationships. Either you attract it or you are the jealous one. Also a lot of instability with friendships. Moving friend groups a lot, not having stable friendships or relationships throughout your life. A lot of projection onto the other person, mirroring back their behaviours. It’s not a comfortable placement to have especially if it’s in synastry too.

⭑.ᐟ Sagittarius moons are super extroverted and love being out in the world BUT they also really love spending time in their rooms. Maybe this is bc the 2 sag moons that I know both have earth suns but I’ve noticed that they spend a lot of time in their rooms gaming and hiding away.

⭑.ᐟ Nobody talks enough about how funny Aquarius placements are, especially moon and sun. In my experience they are the best at coming up with hilarious inside jokes.

⭑.ᐟ People with planets in the 1h (especially if it’s the sun or moon or a stellium) are so genuine and you can tell they are not hiding who they truly are, they just couldn’t if they tried. They have a kind of congruency to who they are, and not as many layers to peel back (this does not mean that they aren’t complex people, just that they are real!) what you see is what you get! Also they really tend to embody the planets that are within this house. For example, my friend is a cancer rising with her mercury in there. I always thought she was a Gemini rising because she talks so much, even more than me as a Gemini rising LOL and she’s very analytical, but she just has a 1h mercury!

[phoenixrisingastro]

🔥 ASTRO OBSERVATIONS V: THE DARKEST SECRETS NO ONE WANTS TO ADMIT 🔥

This is not your basic astrology post. This is the raw truth, the obsession, the manipulation, the taboo. These are the secrets written in your chart that you don’t want anyone to know. But I see them. And now, so will everyone else.

🔪 1. Scorpio placements don’t “heal,” they just get better at hiding the damage. You’ll never see a Scorpio truly break down. They’ll self-destruct in private and come back looking stronger, colder, untouchable.

💋 2. Venus in Aries needs the thrill of the chase—but once they catch you, they’re already looking for their next target. The fun isn’t in keeping you, it’s in making you obsessed first.

🕷 3. Pluto in the 7th House doesn’t just attract toxic relationships, they ARE the toxic relationship. If you date them, you will never be the same. You might leave, but you won’t escape.

👄 4. People with Mercury square Pluto know exactly what to say to ruin you. One sentence, one whisper, one well-timed truth—and your entire world crumbles. They don’t argue. They just destroy.

🖤 5. Capricorn moons will mourn you while they’re still in the relationship. They don’t leave when they’re done loving you. They leave when they’ve already grieved your absence in their mind.

🔥 6. Lilith in the 8th House is a walking fantasy and a living nightmare. You will crave them, you will want to own them, and in the end? You will be consumed by them.

👁 7. People with Neptune in the 1st House don’t lie on purpose—they just don’t know who the fuck they are. Every personality they take on is real in the moment—but it won’t be real forever.

💔 8. Mars in the 12th House doesn’t show their anger—they absorb yours. The more you push them, the more it builds. And when it finally explodes? It’s over for you.

⛓ 9. Venus square Saturn can’t tell if they’re in love or in debt to someone. They’ll stay in relationships out of guilt, obligation, or karma long after the love is gone.

🩸 10. Pluto in the 1st House was born with a target on their back. People sense their power before they even speak, and they either want to control them, ruin them, or worship them.

💀 11. If you have Sun opposite Pluto, one of your parents wanted to be you, but couldn’t. Instead, they spent your childhood breaking you down so you’d never surpass them.

💋 12. Venus conjunct Mars people are either irresistible or repulsive—there’s no in-between. People either can’t get enough of them, or they feel deeply disturbed by their energy.

🩸 13. If you have Mars in the 8th House, you know what it’s like to almost kill someone in bed. Enough said.

💀 14. A Moon-Pluto person will love you deeper than anyone else—until they realize you’re not worth it. And when they leave? You’ll never find that depth again.

🕷 15. Chiron in the 7th House attracts lovers who stab them in their weakest spot. Every heartbreak feels like a personal betrayal. They love hard, and they get burned even harder.

💔 16. A Scorpio Venus will NEVER truly let go of you. You will live in the back of their mind, rotting there, forever.

🖤 17. People with Mars in Scorpio never fight fair. If you’ve pissed them off? You won’t even know they’re coming for you until it’s too late.

👁 18. Neptune in the 5th House makes people addicted to falling in love. They don’t love people—they love the feeling of love itself. The moment the illusion breaks, so does their desire.

🕯 19. Saturn in the 12th House comes into this life already tired. Their soul is carrying exhaustion from past lives, and they don’t even know why.

🩸 20. Pluto in the 5th House creates artists that make pain beautiful. They take their trauma and turn it into something that haunts others.

🔥 21. People with Mars in Leo will NEVER forget the one person who rejected them. They could be adored by millions, but the ONE who didn’t bow? That’s the one who haunts them.

🩸 22. If you have Venus in the 12th House, your love life will always feel like a tragic love story. The person you love most? You’ll never fully have them.

🕷 23. Moon in the 8th House people know things about you that you don’t even know about yourself. They can read your soul, your wounds, your fears. And you’ll never understand how.

💔 24. A South Node in the 7th House was born to learn how to be alone. Every relationship will break them down until they learn to choose themselves first.

💀 25. Saturn in the 5th House people never felt like children, even when they were kids. They were born into responsibility, and life has never truly felt light.

🔥 26. Lilith in the 1st House women don’t attract attention—they COMMAND it. People will stare, obsess, and fear them, all without knowing why.

💋 27. Pluto conjunct Venus people will either be the best thing that’s ever happened to you, or the worst. They either heal you, or they leave you scarred for life.

🖤 28. Uranus in the 7th House people attract lovers who come out of nowhere and disappear just as fast. Their love life is a never-ending storm.

💀 29. If someone has Pluto square their Moon, they have an unresolved war with their mother. And it will bleed into every relationship they ever have.

🔥 30. The darkest part of your chart is where you hold the most power. Until you own it? It will own you.

👁 So? Did I hit you where it hurts?

🔥 Drop your placements. Let’s see who’s brave enough to admit the truth..

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[areyougonnabe]

do you have any book (or other media) recommendations for someone looking to go completely insane about arctic exploration now that they've finally caved and watched the terror after holding strong since 2020? i'd love to dive more into the franklin expedition and especially fitzjames and crozier but i'm also very interested in this cherry dude you've been posting about recently.

NONNY OF COURSE I DO. the last time i got an ask like this was over 2 years ago, so i am eager to deliver a refined version of my POLAR FLOWCHART...

SO YOU JUST WATCHED THE TERROR. AND NOW YOU WANT TO READ BOOKS.

A) Do you want to read more about the Franklin Expedition specifically?

If YES, go to B.

If NO, I'M OPEN TO WHATEVER, go to C.

B) Do you care about super detailed historical accuracy or do you just want a fun breezy intro book? Alternatively do you like ice mummies?

If YOU ARE KIND OF A STICKLER, go to D.

If YOU JUST WANNA VIBE AND LEARN THE BASICS, go to E.

If YOU WANT THE FUCKING ICE MUMMIES, go to F.

C) Do you want another story where people die and are sad and fucked up but also hold each other and experience intimacy in extremis?

If NO, YOU KIND OF WOULD RATHER HAVE AN UPLIFTING ONE THIS TIME, go to G.

If YOU DEFINITELY JUST WANT MORE POLAR MISERY, go to H.

D) Would you rather learn more about what happened before the expedition or what happened during/after?

If you want the JANKY FRANKLIN SHITSHOW PREQUEL, try The Man Who Ate His Boots by Anthony Brandt.

If you want the AMBIGUOUS HORROR OF DYING WHITE MEN INVADING A LAND THAT ISN'T THEIRS, try Unraveling the Franklin Expedition by David C. Woodman.

E) Would you rather have a polar-specific overview or a more general book on exploration history of the era that includes polar stuff?

If you want ICY BOYS ONLY, try Erebus: The Story of a Ship by Michael Palin.

If you want to read about GUYS HAVING A BAD TIME IN HOT PLACES TOO, try Barrow's Boys by Fergus Fleming or James Fitzjames: The Mystery Man of the Franklin Expedition by William Battersby.

F) STRONG AS FUCK ICE MUMMY MONDAY

The ONE YOU WANT IS Frozen In Time by Owen Beattie and John Geiger.

G) Is your vibe more "the power of friendship and brotherhood to overcome immense challenges" or "worst fucking rich boy gap year of all time" ?

If you want to be stirred by fine leadership qualities and hope against all odds, try Endurance by Alfred Lansing.

If you want to be entertained by awful leadership qualities and deranged crew antics, try Madhouse at the End of the Earth by Julian Sancton.

H) Would you want your dead heroes to be beloved and valorized or ignored and forgotten?

If you're all in on posthumous legends, try A First Rate Tragedy by Diana Preston or The Worst Journey In The World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard.

If you want to be one of the only ones who care, try The Lost Men by Kelly Tyler-Lewis.

BONUS RECS

If you want to know about ghosts, mediums, and the psychic ghost child Little Weesy who is one of the most legendary Franklin-adjacent curiosities: The Spectral Arctic by Shane McCorristine

Either before or after you read Worst Journey (before might be better if the full book intimidates you, but only if you've prepped with the Preston): the Worst Journey In The World graphic novel by Sarah Airriess

For after you have loaded up on Franklin and Terra Nova lore (the book doesn't hit as hard without deep emotional attachment to both imho): I May Be Some Time: Ice and the English Imagination by Francis Spufford

If you need to know more about the Discovery expedition-era Toxic Polycule (Scott/Shackleton/Wilson): Shackleton's Forgotten Expedition by Beau Riffenburgh

(very selfish recommendation motivated by wanting more people to care about him) If you want vivid detail on the day-to-day life of the Terra Nova expedition: With Scott: The Silver Lining by T. Griffith Taylor

and lastly but CERTAINLY not least:

If you are "very interested in this cherry dude i've been posting about recently" and have prepped with the Preston and/or WJ: Cherry by Sara Wheeler ... then you will understand.

[sagekjs21]

1. There are only three TV shows that I care about at all anymore: The Chosen, When Calls the Heart, and Heartland. They really don't overlap much, so I don't really have a backlog of TV that I need to watch. When these three shows are completed, I am very unlikely to pick up any new shows at all, I have pretty much lost all interest in TV other than these three shows. 

2. I don't have a favorite pair. 

3. Yes, of all different sorts. When I make my own, I always add spinach or kale because if you blend it properly you can't even taste it and it just packs the smoothie full of vitamins and nutrients. 

4. My order of preference would be dress pants first and foremost, a skirt is tolerable, and I try to avoid dresses like the plague. If I have to though I will. I literally own one dress and one skirt. 

5. In an omelette with cheese, different types of breakfast meats, and different combinations of vegetables depending upon my mood. For just plain eggs though, I prefer them scrambled with a bunch of pepper. 

6. Whatever is handy: a bookmark, a receipt, a random piece of junk mail, anything really. I don't dog ear the pages though. 

7. I've got a fairly decent mixture. I prefer black, blue, red, and white, but as far as I know the only color missing is pink and it's going to stay that way lol. 

8. No. I used to, I used to collect all kinds of things. But I've moved around enough times in my life to know that holding onto stuff is not something that I am suited for. I'm not a true minimalist, but I don't like collecting a bunch of stuff either. 

9. A cat purring, running water, birds, a music box, the perfume my grandmother used to wear, vanilla, coconut, the perfume that I wear most often

10. No opinion

11. I wear sunglasses outside and in brightly lit rooms/buildings.

12.  I've got two best friends, and I love their enthusiasm. Both of them, when they get on a topic that they love or get an idea that they're excited about, they're like little kids. 😊 @titaniumpeony @pinestripe37 ❤️

13. If I have to write by hand, pen, but I much prefer to type. 

14. Really only at my church, my current home, and the house that my grandmother used to live in which I will probably never visit again. 

15. Not applicable 

16. Also not applicable. I don't think I've owned a hoodie since around 2012. Not really my style. Not feminine enough. 

17. Food on DoorDash lol. As to which restaurant, I honestly can't remember. 

18. Lots of biblical things, particularly the good ones surrounding Jesus. 

19. Not applicable 

20. I'm good at the basics, I'm good at algebra, I'm good at geometry, and I'm good at trigonometry. I have never done calculus and so I have no idea what my skill set is there, and the only math I ever struggled with was statistics but I still managed to get an a. Barely. 

21. Definitely not applicable lol. 

22. Usually iced unless it is very very cold outside. 

23. Anything that comes up that I know the lyrics to and enjoy. 

24. Of course I am! I am seriously the best driver that anyone would ever meet. 😊 For anyone reading this that doesn't know, I'm partially blind and legally am unable to drive ever. 

25. Just the average pierced ears, and I don't want any other piercings and definitely no tattoos. 

26. Both! I've got a lot of different stuff that I think is good and a lot of people compliment me on. Probably my spaghetti sauce would be one of the top things. I can make pretty much anything though and have fun tweaking and playing around with a lot of ingredients and recipes. 

27. Just one. And honestly I can't even think of what it is lol. I know it has to do with the state of Arizona and it's some kind of picture but that's all I can remember. 😊 

28. I would consider myself an intermediate swimmer. I know more than just the basics, I know a few different strokes, I took lessons for either six or seven years quite a while ago. However I'm not exceptionally fit and so speed would definitely be my downfall and I don't know anything advanced. 

29. I had a very basic set when I was very little, and when I was maybe 12 or 13 one of my friends had a bit of a more complex set but it didn't really have a theme. 

30. Yes, from left to right: tank tops, short sleeve shirts, three-quarter sleeve shirts, long sleeve shirts, sweaters that act as shirts, pants, my skirt, jackets/sweaters. My dress is in a different closet as are my extra pairs of shoes. 

31. I have absolutely no idea. Probably one of the songs that @pinestripe37 sent me about Psalm 23. 

32. I wouldn't. 

33. Earbuds 

34. Of course. 

35. It's a black and white cat that @pinestripe37 gave me for my last birthday. 

36. I'm not really good at many of them because they generally contain a lot of visual aspects, but I do have fun playing at arcades. Haven't done that in years and now I kind of want to lol. 

37. I prefer it. It gives me someone to talk to and if they want to help out they can and if not that's OK too. 

38. I don't have any secret TV shows or musicians that I like that I'm too embarrassed to tell people about. I mean really, I don't care. My music taste very eclectic, I still like the Backstreet Boys and a few songs from the Spice Girls and I really don't mind admitting that at all lol. If people are going to judge me based on that I probably don't want them in my life anyway. 

39. Receiving a bunch of very useful information from God. But a lot of good stuff happened today, I mean tons of it! 😊 it was one of the best days I've had in a long time. 😊 

40. Probably a Christmas tree of some sort or a palm tree

41. Usually either vanilla or coconut

42. Not applicable 

43. This is a super weird question. For me most of the time I shower with the lights off but that's because light from the windows gives me enough light in my bathroom to see by. It wouldn't for people with normal vision, so this question has me wondering why anybody would shower in the dark. I probably don't want to know the answer to that. 

44. I usually give it to people, friends, street people, I may put it in a tip jar or just anything of that sort, I don't like holding onto spare change at all.

45.  definitely not lol

46. I can't think of anything specifically, but probably a book or a song. 

47. Only if I'm with someone. Going on a walk by myself is boring.

48. No. 

49. I like to go out and stand in the rain. I don't care if it's sprinkling or pouring. Yeah, I'm that crazy person lol. Smile 😊

50.  a comfortable bed for sure, a pillow that provides lots of head and neck support, the room is not too hot or too cold but the perfect temperature, and I can sleep the whole night through without waking up. 

50 Questions Just Because

What are three shows in your watchlist that you’ve been meaning to get to?

Describe your favorite pair of socks

Do you like smoothies?

What do you wear when you have to dress nicely?

How do you like your eggs?

What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?

What color dominates your closet?

Do you collect anything? If so, what?

What sounds or scents calm you down?

What’s your favorite kind of uquiz question? (Lyric, color, aesthetic, etc)

Do you wear glasses or contacts?

What’s something about your best friend that you love?

Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?

What are some places where you feel most at home?

Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?

Describe your favorite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?

What’s the last thing you ordered online?

What’s one historical event that you would have liked to have witnessed?

What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?

What kind of math are you best at?

What’s your favorite period in art history, your favorite famous work and/or your favorite style of art? If you don’t know any that’s ok!

Iced or hot drinks?

Which songs do you like to sing in the shower?

Are you a good driver?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Are there any that you want?

Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?

Do you have any keychains on your home or car keys? Describe them!

Can you swim very well? Do you like swimming?

Did you play with Legos as a kid? What was your favorite set?

Is your closet organized? If so, how?

What’s the last music video you watched?

If you could dye your hair any color, regardless of how you think it would look, what color would you choose?

Headphones or earbuds?

Can you read analog clocks?

Describe your favorite stuffed animal, either now or from when you were a kid.

What’s an arcade or table game (air hockey, ping pong, etc) that you’re really good at?

Do you mind if others are in the kitchen when you’re cooking or baking?

What’s one show you watch or musician you listen to that your friends know nothing about?

What was the best part of your day today?

What’s your favorite kind of tree?

What scent is your deodorant?

Do you have any games on your phone? If so, which one(s) is/are your favorite?

Do you shower with the lights on or off?

What do you do with spare change?

Do you have good handwriting?

What’s the last thing a friend recommended to you that you looked into and actually liked?

Do you like to go on walks?

Do you have a favorite plate or bowl?

What’s your favorite thing to do when it’s raining?

Describe your perfect sleeping conditions

[zepskies]

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

✨ Series Masterlist

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Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

Read Part 2 on Patreon! || Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 2/14

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Aftermath - Chapter 5

Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Master List

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way.

pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader

word count: 4k or something like that?

(Everyone say ‘thank you’ to @lestapiastrisgirl for beta reading and helping me through late night plot crisis so this can come out today!!)

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source It's been months since @/Lando and @/MissLeClerc have been spotted togtether and we're starting to wonder...are they even together anymore?! Lando was spotted out alone in Monaco, looking annoyed at fans calling his name while his (ex???) girlfriend was papped out and about with none other than...Max Verstappen. Again. Rumors about the LeClerc sister and Dutch driver started to swirl right around the time her and Lando stopped being seen out in public...What do we think, chat??? Has little miss leclerc finally ditched the cocky British pilot for a new Dutch beau??? user029 maybe she got tired of having to parent her boyfriend??? user220 if it's true, she's really upgraded. 4 time world champion vs...what??? 4 time race winner. please. user0298 he never supported her art or anything, i'm not surprised she's moved on. max always looks smitten with her.

“Lando, you have got to get this under control.” The head of McLaren’s communications team hisses, her glare shooting daggers at the driver who’s just walked into the the hospitality building ahead of the race in Belgium. 

Lando glances up from his phone, face pale and eyes worried. “How the fuck am I supposed to control what the gossip pages post?” 

Marina throws her hands up in the air as she paces, her McLaren team kit wrinkled from lack of sleep thanks to the British driver. In the four weeks since your argument with Lando after Austria, things have only gotten worse. You’re still not talking to him and he still hasn’t figured out where the hell you’re living. You’re not staying with Charles and Alexandra or Jade, he’s been subtly watching both buildings. He knows you’re still in Monaco because you’ve been papped out with your family and friends but most maddeningly Max Verstappen. 

Everyone seems to have noticed you’re not living with Lando anymore, your appearances in his streams have dwindled down to nothing. Fewtrell has had to start banning people form his chat because they won’t stop asking about you and what’s going on. Everyone knows that something went down but you’re straight up refusing to behave like an adult and come back to Lando, where you belong and it’s infuriating. 

“You can’t, obviously.” Marina sighs, sitting down at one of the high top tables in the middle of the suite. 

Around her, the Thursday afternoon crew of engineers and communications people buzz, all prepping for their weekends. Everyone seems to be acting normal but Lando can feel their glares on his back as he walks through the building. They all know he’s causing the entire team grief by causing so much drama with you, taking the attention away from the decent start to the year they’d had before all hell had broken loose a few months ago. 

“But,” She continues, leveling a glare at Lando. “You either need to bite the bullet and release a joint statement with her announcing your breakup or you need to get her to the track this weekend and make a big show of a united front. It’s up to you Lando, but you need to do something. I can’t keep saying ‘no comment’ whenever we’re asked about the distraction this is causing the team.” 

Lando pulls at his curls, like hell he’s going to admit that you’d left him. He supposed he could go rogue and release a statement without you. That way he could control the narrative and try to get the fans back on his side if he made something up like a cheating scandal or something. The moment that the thought flutters through his mind, he forces it out. For some fucking reason, the fans seem to have a soft spot for you and it’s maddening. Lando knew there was no way he could get public opinion on his side, not with how he was getting ripped apart on socials right now. 

“We’re not broken up.” He bites out, taking a sip out of his water bottle as he contemplates what he can do. 

Marina glances up from her phone, brow lifted in question. “That’s not what it looks like here.” She turns her phone towards Lando and shows him a photo of you descending the stairs of a private jet that’s just landed in Belgium. In front of you, already down the stairs and waiting on the tarmac for you is your brother with Leo cradled in his arms. 

And behind you? A fiery rage burns bright and hot in Lando’s chest when he sees who’s behind you. 

Fucking Max Verstappen. 

The look you’re giving him makes his heart twist and for the first time since this entire thing began, Lando actually misses you. He misses the way you used to smile up at him like that, like your entire world revolved Lando and no one else. He missed the way your eyes would follow him around a room, how your body would center towards his. The way you looked at Max was how you used to look at him and it made jealousy twist violently deep in Lando’s gut just looking at the photo. 

“I’ll take care of it.” Lando spits before stalking off to the privacy of his drivers room. 

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source Alexandra, Charles, and his little sister were seen arriving in Belgium this afternoon on Max Verstappen's private jet. It's yet another instance where the LeClerc sister was spotted without boyfriend Lando Norris, sparking new breakup rumors. Neither party has confirmed if they're still together, with McLaren PR insisting that the personal lives of their drivers are off limits. user019 honestly, I'm here for a LeClerc sister & Max relationship. >>>user028 me too. at least Max seems to actually like her, unlike Lando user0029 I mean, we all can see it. Why can't they just confirm it already??? user2333 fully on board the 'get her away from Lando train' ROOTING FOR YOU MAX!!! Get your girl!!! user029 my friend was out at the restaurant they were all at a few weeks ago and said that Lando crashed the dinner but left after a few minutes looking PISSED. >>>user029 honestly, Lando is kind of unhinged rn. get over her my man, move onnnnnnn!

“I can’t believe you got me to agree to come this weekend.” You grumble as you follow Max towards the paddock gates Friday morning before practice. 

“You’ve barely been to any races this year and it’s almost the end of July!” Max shoots over his shoulder, grinning like an idiot he’s so happy you decided to come this weekend. 

“I was at Monaco!” You protest lamely, shoving your elbow into your brother’s ribs when he laughs. 

“You live in Monaco, that doesn’t count Little Dove.” Charles chuckles, rubbing at the sore spot where you’d just assaulted him. 

“Whatever.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. 

After arriving in Belgium last night, you had gone straight to your hotel room, needing a bit of alone time ahead of what you were sure was going to be a stressful weekend. As usual, you’d been papped arriving on Max’s jet, which you were certain Lando had seen because the moment you had checked your messages in the SUV Max had rented for your little group, there had been a text waiting for you from him. 

I know you probably don’t want to see me and I get that. I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart. Can we please get together this weekend and talk? Somewhere neutral if that’s what you want…

As you settled into the hotel room that was yours for the weekend, a war was being fought in your brain. On one hand, you didn’t trust a single thing coming from Lando’s mouth. Not a single thing. He hadn’t given you any reason to trust anything that he said for months, so why should you start now? But on the other hand…

On the other hand, you and Lando had so much history. His message seemed remorseful. You knew everyone in your life would kill you if you even entertained the idea of getting back with him but somewhere deep in your chest a little voice was saying maybe you should hear him out. He was finally leaving you alone, finally backing off, why did he have to pop up right when you thought you had finally gotten him fully out of your system?

You didn’t tell anyone Lando had texted you. Had been texting you all morning as well. You knew no one would understand. But you also hadn’t returned a single text either. The energy that responding to Lando would take was something that you just didn’t have today. 

Your little group is captured by photographers as you walk in, a few even call out your name asking where you’ll be spending your time this weekend. Since dating Lando, you liked to split your time between the McLaren garage and Ferrari but this weekend was going to be different. Your VIP pass had Charles’ face and name on the back, not Lando’s. You had credentials from Ferrari like normal but this morning, Max had also slipped a Red Bull card around your neck, telling you if you got sick of looking at all that red this weekend, you could spend time with him. 

“Are you going to come to the dark side this weekend and use those Red Bull credentials to whip up some gossip?” Max murmurs in your ear, watching as Charles trots off ahead of you after Leo. 

You bump your shoulder with his, rolling your eyes and laughing lightly. “Stop.”

Mischief plays in Max’s pale blue eyes as he smiles down at you, enjoying the way your cheeks flush under his attention. Ever since the race in Austria a few weeks ago, you and the Dutch driver had been spending a lot of time together, all casual but he’d really begun to look forward to the nights you spent curled up on his couch eating takeout and watching bad reality tv with him. 

Before he has a chance to reply though, he sees the color drain from your face as you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. Whipping his head around, Max searches for what, or more accurately, who has spooked you. He already knows who he’s looking for so when his eyes settle on the McLaren driver standing just outside the sliding glass doors of the McLaren hospitality building across the paddock, his stomach lurches. 

You had known you’d see Lando this weekend. How could you not? This was literally his workplace too. There was no way to avoid him, you knew that but you hadn’t expected to see him so quickly and before you had managed to work out how to respond to his text from the night before. 

Your brother is between where you stand and McLaren’s hospitality so he clocks Lando staring after you at about the same time as you and Max. Turning on his heel, he scoops up Leo and makes a bee line back to where you stand, utterly frozen. 

“Dovie.” Max coos in your ear, twining his fingers with yours in an attempt to pull you out of the state you’re in. “Hey, sweet girl, look at me.” 

You ignore him, gaze locked on Lando’s frozen frame. 

Charles steps in between you and Lando, instantly cutting off your line of sight. This seems to yank you back to reality and your brother snaps into action. “Shit. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. I don’t want her alone.” Your brother sounds panicked, like the way you’re just staring blankly ahead is really freaking him out. 

So, he improvises. “Here, take Leo and go take a walk. There’s tons of open space on the other side of the paddock.” Charles presses the small dog into your hands and you drop your gaze away from Lando for the first time in several moments. 

Your gaze drops to where your hand is still clutched in Max’s larger one. The steady warmth from his presence grounds you, allowing you to pull in a full breath for the first time in several minutes. 

“No, she’s not going off on her own.” Max cuts in, tone sharp. “I’ve got some time before I need to be in the car. Come stay in Red Bull with me until practice, then you can watch from my garage, okay?” 

The force of his words leave little wiggle room for argument and Charles can’t help but smirk a little. He should have known Max would step right up to make sure you were taken care of. 

“Yeah.” You agree weakly, finally tearing your gaze away from Lando, who is still starting at you, light eyes sharp and observant. You can feel the way his gaze drops to where Max’s hand is curled around yours possessively. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Without waiting for Lando to get any more ideas like wanting to try to come talk to you, Max tugs on your hand. He knows you well enough by now to know that you need a distraction and you need it fast. “Come on, you said you wanted to stir up some gossip this weekend, well here’s your chance.” 

You laugh despite yourself, nuzzling your face into Leo’s soft fur. “I’m keeping the dog.” You tell your brother as you allow yourself to be led away by Max. All Charles does is nod, relieved to know that you’re in good hands while he’s busy. 

missleclerc posted

24,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and others missleclerc in my defense, I was kidnapped ☝🏻 maxverstappen1 whatever, you wanted to be there. >>>missleclerc lies. It was a hostage situation. >>>maxverstappen1 is that what the kids are calling it these days? >>>user299 chat, are they flirting in the comments??? WE CAN SEE YOU TWO charlesleclerc can't believe you subjected your nephew to this. please make sure you take a shower before dinner tonight. >>>missleclerc rude. user0209 ya know, I'm kinda here for this ship. >>>user987 did you see how utterly distracted Max was during the one interview where she walked past him? couldn't take his eyes off her >>>user0209 lando's gonna be crashing out after seeing that interview tonight >>>user3443 GOOD. bro deserves it

“I think you may need to roll me up to my room after that dinner.” You groan, rubbing at the food baby making your black leather skirt pinch painfully at your hips. 

After qualifying Saturday evening, when the boys were all finished with their media and team duties, Max had insisted that you, your brother, Alexandra and himself all go out to dinner. He’d wanted to insist it just be the two of you but he wasn’t blind to the gossip you two had stirred up in the paddock Friday afternoon so he’d figured bringing your brother and his girlfriend along would be a bit safer. 

“I think I ate my weight in spaghetti.” Alexandra groans beside you as you plod towards the front doors of the hotel. “Carry me up to the room please, Cha?” She coos, throwing her arms around your brother’s neck as if she can’t go on one step more.

 Charles laughs, snaking his arms around her waist and pulls her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead, a gesture so tender and intimate you have to turn away. Your gaze immediately connects with Max who is standing a few paces behind your brother and his girlfriend. A small smile tips up at the corner of his full lips when you make eye contact at him and your stomach swoops at the affection for you in his eyes. 

You’re imagining things, you think instantaneously. There’s no way Max sees you as anything other than a friend, after everything that you’ve endured while he’s watched. How could anyone like Max be attracted to someone who had spent an entire year drowning in a failing relationship? It was likely a pity smile, something he gives you because he feels sorry that you haven’t found what your brother has found in Alexandra. 

“There you are…” A smooth British accent interrupts your thoughts, jarring you out of your spiral. “You stopped answering my texts.” Lando says pointedly as he joins your little group in the lobby of the hotel. 

Your eyes shutter closed as you blow out a breath. You had been hoping to avoid this confrontation all together but it was just another nail in the coffin of why Max wouldn’t even want to begin to get involved with you in the first place. Why would he willingly want to be with someone who was still so intertwined with her ex still? You’ve spent so long with Lando, were so intertwined with him it would certainly be easier to just go back to him, wouldn’t it? Maybe he was all you deserved after wasting three years of your life. 

“I was at dinner, Lando. It’s rude to text during a meal.” You carefully control the tone of your voice, not wanting to instigate yet another public altercation with him. 

“Ah, yes. I’m sure the company was riveting.” His eyes flicker over to where Max stands, stiff and unmoving, the smile that he’d just been showering you with totally gone from his face. “So, what do you say, can we finally talk like two adults?” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Norris.” Charles cuts in, voice sharp and short. 

“I think your sister can answer for herself, LeClerc.” There’s a challenge in Lando’s eyes that you don’t miss and you know you have about five seconds to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. Again. 

Placing your hand on Lando’s elbow, you tug him away. “If you promise to chill out and actually listen to me, we can go to the bar and get a drink. One drink, Lando. Can you do that?” 

If you had been looking at Max then, you would have seen the light flicker out of his eyes. He’s grateful that his hands are tucked away in his pockets when he hears your words because the way the ball up into tight fists would be embarrassing had anyone seen it. He wants to say something, anything, that might convince you to not walk away with him. He wants to tell you how he’s feeling, how this afternoon with you in his drivers room and then garage was the best start to a race weekend he’d had in recent memory. He wants to beg you not to go with Lando. 

But he can’t. He can’t because he still hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you how he feels. Max is stuck in this painful sort of limbo where you two spend time together and he craves any bit of attention he can glean from you but it’s not enough for him to risk your fragile state of being right now. He knows you’re still recovering from leaving Lando. Three years is a long time to spend with someone, even if the last year was as painful as Lando had made it for you. He knows you’re not ready for him to tell you how he’s feeling but he’s afraid if he doesn’t, you’ll go running back to Lando. 

While the internal debate about what to do with his feelings rages on inside, Max watches as a cat-like grin spreads slowly across Lando’s face. He’s won. Lando’s won and they both know it. 

“Of course, baby.” 

You bristle at the name but without the energy to fight him, all you do is roll your eyes. Max’s mask of indifference somehow staying in place when he hears the nickname, but it tears him up on the inside. He’s not sure how he manages it. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Thanks for dinner, Max.” Taking a step towards Max, you fold yourself into him, enjoying the way his arms come around your waist without hesitation. The hug is firm and he holds onto you for several moments longer than necessary. 

 “I can stay down here if you want me to.” He murmurs in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of your ear, sending a cool shiver of pleasure down your spine. 

“I’m a big girl, I can handle him.” 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” He responds, looking down at you. You’re surprised to see a stark look of concern all over his face, like he’s genuinely worried about you. 

“Max, I’m fine. It’s just one drink.” 

But Max knows Lando. It’s not just going to be one drink. But what other choice does he have? Reluctantly, he releases you and takes a step back, forcing himself out of arms length. You instantly miss the grounding warmth of his body and fight to keep your expression neutral. 

Max watches you walk away, shoulder brushing with Lando’s and has to resist the urge to rub at the painful clenching sensation that wraps itself around his heart. 

“You don’t have to watch her leave.” Charles murmurs, standing off to the side with a worried looking Alexandra. They both share Max’s opinion that this is a bad idea but like Max, what else can they say?

Max scrubs at his face, suddenly so overwhelmingly exhausted that all he wants to do is climb into bed and sleep until the race tomorrow. “What am I supposed to do, Charles?” He throws his hands up in defeat as you disappear around the corner just as Lando’s arm slips around your waist. “I don’t have a single claim on her, she’s not mine to miss.” 

His stomach twists painfully at the thought of having to go back to his hotel room knowing you’re touching him. 

“She won’t go back to him.” Charles says with more confidence than Max can muster up himself. “She’s been doing so well lately and we all see it’s partially because of you, mate.”

“Don’t give up on her, Max. Not yet.” Alexandra offers quietly, stepping closer to Charles before reaching out and placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. “She’s stronger than we all think but she’s going to need your patience right now. It’ll be okay.” 

The way it physically hurt watching you walk away had alarm bells ringing in Max’s head. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become in the time since you’d left Lando and it terrified him. If you went back to Lando tonight, he had this gut feeling he’d lose you forever and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to endure that. 

Max barely sleeps that night, tossing and turning for hours trying to convince himself he hadn’t just watched you walk right out of his life again. He knew he was, once again, getting ahead of himself and that he needed to wait before going into full spiral mode but he couldn’t quite get himself there. 

By the time he’s downstairs in the hotel lobby the next morning, waiting for the car that Red Bull had hired for him, he’s exhausted and on the brink of biting someone’s head off. 

“You doing okay over there, Verstappen? You seem a little…irritated.” 

Max turns and has to stifle a groan. “Why can’t you just leave well enough alone, Lando?” 

Lando has the nerve to look confused, brows furrowing as he tilts his head to the side. “I have no idea what you’re on about, mate.” 

It takes every ounce of control Max has honed over the years not to punch the British driver square in the face. “Why are you so fixated on her now that she’s finally trying to get away from you?” 

Lando smirks, quick and ugly, before he shakes his head. “See, now that’s where you’re wrong Max.” He reaches over and pats at Max’s shoulder patronizingly. “I don’t think she really wants to get away form me anymore. Not after last night.” 

It feels like the breath has been sucked out of Max’s lungs at Lando’s words. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He hisses, heat creeping up his neck. 

“You’re a smart man, Max. Use that big brain of yours. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Lando grins like the Cheshire Cat as he shrugs. “Oh look, my ride’s here. Good luck out there today, Verstappen.” 

Without waiting for a response because he knows full well he’s caught Max completely off guard, Lando saunters off, hands deep in his pockets, without a second look back at the Dutch driver. 

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[jadagul]

It's kind of weird to me how little in the way of mass protests we're seeing in response to this Trump stuff.

I'm usually skeptical of protests. The modern, uh, left-wing protest culture seems actively calibrated to accomplish nothing other than making its participates feel good.

But this seems like exactly the type of situation where protesting could genuinely accomplish things. Trump is doing things that are (1) bad, (2) unpopular, and (3) illegal. That's the ideal case for protests to make progress!

Like, Trump isn't personally going to care about protests. But the thing they're good for is drawing attention to an issue that people either don't know about or would rather ignore, but where they'll be on your side if they have to actually think about what's going on.

That doesn't apply to most wedge issues, and especially not most of the ones that get the left fifth of society really excited. But "Trump shut down Medicaid" or "Trump handed the Treasury over to private actors who are refusing to spend money on [insert program here]" or "Trump put in a bunch of tariffs and now your groceries and phones are way more expensive" all totally apply.

[inumkii]

mha boys working at a bakery

included: bakugou, kirishima, denki, shouto, and a little dabi feature

okay this prompt except its not awwww cute baker au! inspired by my old job, it was a bit miserable but i try to look back on it fondly

bakugou’s one of the bakers, almost always opening at 6am. there's a rare occasion where you're scheduled to open with only him and he's there early, prepping the dough with faint classical music playing in the background. opening shifts with him (and shifts in general) can be quite nice because he tends to mind his own business while you cover the counter, but you have walked in to him yelling at denki for leaving the scones in the oven for too long. i would say he’s pretty quiet when he bakes as long as no one else gets in his way. feel free to talk about whatever as he bakes because for you, he’ll silently listen. for anyone else, he’s complaining that they’re distracting him- unless! two people are talking mad shit or gossiping on the clock, he’s secretly listening in.

saturday morning opening shifts are your favorite because the two baker and two counter combo is almost always bakugo, kirishima, mina, and you. the reason why you put up with the miserable opening hours is because kiri and mina loveeeee to gossip about everything they’ve learned throughout the week between your coworkers and bakugou chimes in with additional information that no one else knew. you guys are surprised every time but he just shrugs it off.

kirishima is a sweetheart who does all the tasks that you don’t want to do. ask him to cover mopping tonight? done. need the stack of 50 sheet trays carried to the back? he’s taking care of it. he’s normally baking in the morning but he’ll close from time to time and you always know you’ll be out early when you see his name on the schedule.

denki takes closing shifts more often because he likes to call dibs on the pastries that didn't sell that day. he works at the counter more than baking,,, we all know why.. but he insists he can do either!! for everyone’s sake, especially the customers, you stick him behind the register.

i do think large group orders freak denki out so you have to stand next to him and help him ring them up every time. you really can't tell if he's pretending for the sake of having you by his side or if he genuinely can’t do it. (its a bit of both)

you guys have a closing checklist where you have to sign your name next to every cleanup task after completion but you and denki both hate doing the same things. so he’ll be a pain in the ass and sign his name prematurely on random tasks so you’ll get stuck on mopping duty. sorry. this is getting self indulgent but your personal favorite task is to take the chalk board advertisement for the bakery back inside at the end of the day. after a 7 hour shift, its a nice thirty second walk outside. somehow denki finds out that you love that task so he starts beating you to it. its gotten to a point where someone will innocently ask if anyone's taken in the sign for the night and there's a split second where you guys look at each other before immediately racing out the front door to see who can get to it first.

shouto is a gentleman!!!!!! he’s always there in the daytime, takes the 9-4 shifts mostly. hired as a baker but he took the counter once and he really charmed those old ladies popping in for their morning muffin so he’s kinda been defaulted to the front. you’ve been guilty at handing the phone to him when a wholesale order has gotten too confusing and he’ll kindly take over. he’s become the face the regulars see the most when they walk in due to the nature of his shift times.

you mostly catch shouto for an hour or two when you work closing shifts, coming in around 2. some nights, by the time you realize you need to take out the trash, its already dark outside. the dumpster walk isn’t necessarily far, but its not pleasant nor does it feel very safe. but when you go to check the trash, you realize shouto silently took them out before he got off his shift a few hours ago so you didn’t have to walk out in the dark. he’s never scheduled closing shifts, but if someone needs it covered + he sees that you're the other closer, he’s quick to offer. walks you back to your car too.

there’s a coffee shop in the same shopping complex that your bakery is friendly with. by the end of the night, any leftover pastries get put into a ziplock and handed over to them in exchange for a free coffee. the mysterious barista who’s name tag reads ‘dabi’ is always the one to thank you for bringing over the treats and making your latte. he knows exactly what you're gonna get every time he sees you walking up to the front of the cafe. he sends you off every night with a wink and your coffee in hand

(you aren’t aware that dabi is related to shouto at all. its never been brought up and they're mostly on different shift schedules. so when shouto hears about your closing night exchanges, he starts shifting his schedule just so he can accompany you. and to keep an eye on his brother to make sure he’s not going to pull anything funny.)

-

additional all might as my boss: early morning opening shifts are your worst enemy just because you cannottt be bothered to wake up earlier than noon, so when you do, you come in having just woken up ten minutes before. your boss catches you one morning and stops you for a ten minute rant about how you should be more confident with your bare face! and makeup is a social construct, so feel beautiful with yourself!! and you think its sweet but you didnt even notice how you weren’t even wearing the usual makeup look. thanks greg. i guess. he means well.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Eggers confirmed in interview that Ellen wasn't a child, she was teenager at the start of the film. You can probably say there's case of ephebophilia. But there is no CSA there. Also Eggers absolutely saw it as Dark romance and ships it himself. He wouldn't be doing it if there was CSA.

And that's fine, but not everyone accepts Word of God as canon

My thoughts on Eggers' interview statements are that he should have made his intentions clearer if that's what he was going for, because a huge portion of the audience came away with the impression that it was about someone's stalker/rapist coming back to jeopardize the life she'd made for herself out from under his thumb. And like...if he wanted people to not think that, he should have made directing choices that made the onscreen story match his vision better.

You're free to interpret it however you want. What I take issue with is people saying that there's One True Interpretation and no viable way to see it in any other light. There's one interpretation that the director intended, but the movie he actually made leaves holes to interpret it a different way. He shouldn't have made it that way if he had a very specific story to tell.

How can I see it as CSA? Simple. She said she was "a child" when it started and even if she was a young teenager, it being the early 1830s (assuming she's like 20-23 at time of canon, based on statistical age at first marriage for women back then) doesn't magically make 15-year-olds adults. 15 back then was about like 17 now- not a Tiny Baby, but decidedly not a Full Grown-Up either. "Child" CAN be a euphemistic term for a naive or inexperienced adult, but it's not always

And maybe if he wanted people to not interpret her as a literal child...he shouldn't have had her characterize herself that way in the dialogue, talking about when all of this started? "I was so young," "I didn't know better," "I was a fool," "I was naive," etc. SO MANY clearer wordings there. They already didn't get a child actress to play her in the opening scene; without that line, I'd assume it had been like. A few years before her marriage, when she was maybe 17-18, and just seen it as abuse rather than arguable CSA. It's a weird dialogue choice if he wanted to convey "the vampire sex started when she was young but not unacceptably young," like many other weird choices that I felt were counterproductive to his stated narrative aims.

Doesn't mean my interpretation is objectively correct either! But you don't see me going around saying that there's No Way Anyone Could See It As Consensual And That's Wrong And Bad.

I have both been there and done that before, coming from a fandom (Crimson Peak) where there's no way to interpret a central relationship as peer CSA/COCSA if you go by Word of God, but there's absolutely space for that based on what ended up in the actual movie. And I've had to make peace with it, even though I ship that couple to the moon and back.

You like these fake people kissing in this way, and other people don't. And that's fine! You don't need a big moral justification for it, or to have the Single Correct Interpretation!

[zenbivia]

Intersectionality is a really important topic for people to learn about. None of our identities exist in a vacuum and they interact with each other a lot.

Being a black woman is different than being a white woman. And fighting for the rights of white women is not the same as fighting for the rights of all women. The suffrage movement was a very good thing but it primarily benefited white women.

There was a woman years ago who applied for a job and didn't get it because she was a black woman. This company hired black men in the factories and white women as assistants so the court argued that they weren't racist OR sexist because of this. But they didn't hire black women, they didn't want women in the factory or black people anywhere near the offices. Her case was thrown out the judge felt that it would be "unfair" if she got 2 chances to argue that she was being discriminated against. They wouldn't even consider the idea that the company could be racist AND sexist without being either one individually.

I think it is important to consider how you frame this argument to white people though. When you say that being a woman(or other minority identity) and white is easier, it feels judgemental and puts them on the defensive. But when you say that having that identity is more difficult, I believe it feels less like an accusation for them and makes them more open to new ideas and empathy.

Don't get me wrong though, you shouldn't have to change your wording and that shirt shouldn't upset people. But humans are naturally very defensive and I think more minds can be changed/informed if we make a conscious effort to not make well-meaning people feel defensive.

i dont think whites understand how being white makes literally everything easier.

it effects everything.

being trans is easier when youre white.

being gay is easier when youre white.

being disabled is easier when youre white.

being a woman is easier when youre white.

being autistic is easier when youre white.

oppression is eased when you are white, as you get extra privileges, and your whiteness is seen as a positive characteristic that in some ways counter-balances your other forms of being a minority. whiteness controls everything.

you are automatically way more innocent in your own oppression as a gay, trans, disabled person because of your whiteness.

never forget this.

[baepsays]

Love Hangover⸻ Gojo Satoru x reader

synopsis: "Call me back. Call me back. Call me back." — love hangover by Jennie & Dominic Fike

Cw: toxic relationship, emotional cheating, manipulation, just sex and NSFW stuff, choking (took something from the mv and applied it where I think they implied it :3 ), lot of back and forth, use of the word 'bitch' to refer to the reader (not by Gojo), hate sex, oral sex, fem anatomy, no particular use of pronouns for reader, lowkey angst sorryyy, they are just both pretty shitty lol. Mention of alcohol consumption and cigarettes

'Call me back' received. 2.13AM 

You and Gojo Satoru might be great people, your respective friends will agree. But when you're together it's as if all hell breaks loose. They do not understand. Neither do you two. He makes you so unlike yourself, so unrecognizable, it's often difficult for you to fathom the person you become around him. 

He becomes an unbearable prick; controlling and smothering you, simply too much for you to handle. In return you become a shady bitch; criticizing his every gesture. “Roses instead of lilies? Did you confuse me for someone else?” One day you would be joking over the dinner you made him, next day you would be wishing he was dead. Going through his phone, shouting at him and asking if he is speaking to his exes, was a regular occurrence. Then you won’t talk altogether, but just fight constantly—while lying under your covers together, while eating, on the phone, in public— just making things harder for everyone and yourselves. Until one of you goes;

‘I’m over, I'm so over.’

But you two would always end up where you started. One coincidental meeting with Gojo Satoru somewhere, anywhere, could be that you're across the street from each other; sitting in different restaurants, with different people— and that would be enough for both of you. Doesn't matter he has some girl hanging off his arms. Or the fact you are on a second date with some guy, thinking this might be something serious; a single, double, triple back from him, and suddenly the fact that he was still entertaining his date while you could practically feel his gaze burning your skin, won’t matter—not that it did not bother you. In fact, to put it simply, you do not really mind when he plays you. Because you two will always end up back in each other’s arms. 

‘One minute, we're growin' apart, and next, I'm in her apartment.’

And here you go again. Doesn't matter how many times either of you tell yourselves and your friends that ‘I swear I'll never do it again!’ But you always do it again, and again, and again. He always ends up ringing your doorbell, unannounced. Does not matter you did not pick up his calls, does not matter you did not answer his texts— One “Call me back” at 2 AM, then suddenly he is at your door. And you know he will be there. No matter what, you two always end up in front of each other’s doors. You may not answer his texts or calls; but when you open the door for him and beckon him inside, he will always be welcomed with two glasses of wine. For the sake of the pretense of wanting to have a civil conversation over wine like two grown adults, finally resolving this push and pull and drawing a firm boundary— is all a faux excuse. you still have the keys to his place, and he still has the keys to yours. And they are not being returned any time soon.  

In a flash you're on your couch, back arching off from its surface and fingernails digging in and ruining the fabric. Again. The other hand would be a tangled mess in his hair. The bigger mess would be pooled under you and around his mouth. Again. Eating you out like he has never before, or he might never again. But he knows better than that. 

So, you would start all over again. Things would be blissful for a while. Sweet talking, going on dates, reminiscing about everything which was good. Thinking this time you would take it slow. Take your time with just hanging out and getting to know each other all over again, promising to not repeat the past. All over again. Though when you two would go out for dinner, all that talk would bore you to death. It is not that you feel like staying with Satoru because of who he is, in fact the more you think about that the more it makes you want to leave him, but you want nothing more than to keep him around, forever. And Satoru knows that, hates that really. Always thinking “what's up with that?” — but just as the waiter would bring out the check, you would gaze at him all sultry and go, 

"Let's head to mine."

And all Satoru would be able to utter is , "Okay, awesome."

Subsequently, there would be just lots, lots of sex. Spending days in bed; skipping work, calling in sick, flaking on friends and practically going missing. And everyone would already know what to expect, nothing new, just the cycle repeating itself. 

Spending days in each other’s company giggling about, high on sex and the thrill of having each other back. Then the nights would pass with him being  buried, as deep as he possibly can be, inside of you. Just spending nights watching you get naked instead of watching the movie he chose himself— roaming his hands all over every ridge and curve on your body, encoding new details, leaving kisses and marks all over you. Places where everyone will be able to see, but also places only he would be able to access; tucked away safe even from your own eyes.  Letting the muscles inside your pussy hug him snug, fitting like she has never known anyone but him, because even she knows no matter who comes and goes— his shape will stay. 

As soon as he would get his hopes back up again. Just as soon the momentary bliss would be unexpectedly cut short. One day you are holding each other to sleep after indulging in each other’s bodies, the next moment you are shaking his hands off you and he is waking up with cold sweat all over him. Then you would stop reciprocating his kisses, leaving his lips cracking. Giving short and curt replies to questions, getting irritated over small things. Not that this is unprovoked. Unknowingly to Satoru, before he could delete the texts from the girls flooding his phone and block their numbers; you saw it all.

Back to square one. Fights and nights spent away from each other doing reckless stuff to provoke each other. Because why are you kissing his eyelids and calling him your one and only one moment, and then accusing him of ruining your life another day.

Soon enough you’re going to a club and letting people openly hit on you. Ignoring his calls and texts, to a point he has no choice but to pull up your location (do not ask how he got that). Then letting him drag you back to his place, shout out profanities at you, rip off every piece of clothing from your body. Doing nothing about him pushing you face down on the bed, pulling on the necklace— which he gave you—on your throat from behind and practically choking you, as the necklace leaves behind marks on top of the marks he previously left behind with his lips and teeth. As he thrusts himself inside you, mercilessly, not even letting you turn back around, putting all his body weight on yours— very literally smothering as always. One hand keeping a firm grasp on your throat while the other comes down to place slaps on your thighs and ass, from time to time. You would barely phrase something between loud moans and whines, “F- fuck you.” 

“You are. As always” all he would reply with with a singular impactful thrust. 

Next morning he would wake up to  empty, cold, and wet sheets. A singular half burnt cigarette would be lying on his bedside table, from the stash of cigarettes in his dresser, despite the fact he does not smoke. And a bottle of whisky would be gone from his collection, even though he does not enjoy whisky. All that would be left of your immediate presence, are the shredded to nothing flimsy pair of painties, which you wore last night. Not like you ever went out of his apartment with the same panties you entered through his doors with. 

Concurrently you would be drowning in alcohol, shooting glasses of shots after another to cure the hangover from the day before. You were not one to drink, but you were also not one to be irrational. Yet here you are, hungover and functioning on autopilot. If anyone asked what is wrong, you would not have an answer. Though you do know what this is, the need to never get over this hangover, instead perpetuating and fostering it. Because you know better than anyone that no alcohol will relieve the itch in your throat the way the whisky in Satoru’s cabinet burns down your chest, and alleviates you. You can buy similar whisky, the same brand even, or maybe even a wine or rum— but it won’t taste the same, it won’t get you drunk the same. 

‘I swore l'd never do it again.’

And after a month, Satoru would wake up to a singular missed call from you. 

‘you know I'm gonna do it again.’

a/n: dividers by @/dollywons & @/aquazero, header from the mv for the said song. essentially saw @jumpinglillies talking about wanting to read a Satoru fic based on this song, thanks to them for bringing the song to my attention i hope this lives up to your expectations <3

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tag list: @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @moonlitwitchdaisy @rriwyu @gojocon @aishi-toru @cuntyji @arcanarix @lover-lyn @kazupop

[maxriss]

♡ 2 AM GARAGE SESSIONS — LH44

Lewis Hamilton x reader / est. relationship

Syn. After a tough race, Lewis finds himself in the garage in the middle of the night — and so do you. [F]

The garage was laden with a heavy silence, occasional clang of metals and rough sighs piercing the vibe. The mood bleakly failing to uplift Lewis who found himself hunched over his car, left tinkering; sleep refusing to lull him asleep. The Afro beats reverberating across the room from the speaker which sat lonesome in the corner, Lewis occasionally shook his head along.

It was Lewis Hamilton — a 7 time world champion — who found himself cooped up in his garage at an odd hour in the morning of the next day to Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. He scoffed airily. Pathetic.

I woke up stirring, acutely feeling the lack if warmth around me. Checking the bed I found myself alone, Lewis’ side left with crumpled sheets and an alarm — 2 am — it read. Perched on my elbows, I knew what was up.

A few light footsteps later I stood at the garage door. A shadow of the small light inside glimmered from underneath the door, confirming a presence beyond. Lewis’ sighs and the soft music created an atmosphere which spoke volumes compared to Lewis’ silence since the Grand Prix.

I knocked on the door before pushing it open. Lewis was sat on the floor, tinkering away with the tire thinking whatever that he was. He knew I was here, just too tired to explain himself or comfortable enough for me to read the room.

Covering the few steps to reach him, I perched myself next to him. Lips coming to kiss his bare shoulders. Tattoos breathing along his arm with every movement. I felt Lewis shudder under my touch.

“People are proud of you, Lew,” I said. “I am proud of you.”

Lewis continued his movement, digesting my words. A deep sigh was all he could muster up. “That’s one way to put it.”

It was known in the silence of the legacy he left behind with the end of this season. Mercedes, the fans, the championships, the car — all of it. He had become one with the team and he saw himself be the remnants of it with the last race. The past had held a security which the future showed blurringly.

“I mean it though.” I emphasised with conviction. Lightly tracing his arms. Lewis finally glances at me, the exhaustion in his eyes softened by something else — something that always lingers when it’s just the two of us. He sets the wrench down with a soft clink and shifts so he’s facing me fully, resting his hands on either side of my thighs. For the first few minutes, Lewis resorted to weave words from the emotions he felt. The fingers mindlessly tracing my thigh. His fingers left a trail of goosebumps over my skin.

“It’s funny,” he says after a moment. “You spend years proving yourself, thinking one day it’ll be enough. But it never really is, is it?” My fingers find his, tracing absent patterns over his knuckles. “This legacy people say I’ve left behind — with racing, with Mercedes — did I do it justice with the way I left things last night?” The weight of the results of the Grand Prix had crushed Lewis. He hated that his last goodbye to his team wasn’t memorable.

it’s not about proving anything anymore.” He tilts his head. “Then what is it about?” I squeeze his hand. “Love.”

He studies me further. Searching my eyes for a hint of doubt, a sliver of distrust; he found none. Lewis blinks, like the thought has never occurred to him before. Like all the podiums, the trophies, the records — none of them compare to the simple truth of what’s in front of him.

A slow smile tugs at his lips, small but real. “I like the sound of that.” He lets himself fall onto my shoulder, leaning on me. Breathes slower and relaxed, the tension in his shoulders melting away to a hint of determination from my words. I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, the scent of motor oil and cologne familiar, and comforting. “Then maybe you should start believing it.”

Lewis hums, pulling me a little closer. “Only if you stay here and remind me.” I grin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And in the quiet of the garage, between oil stains and starlight, Lewis finally lets himself believe it.

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©maxriss please do not copy, save, or translate my stories. this is no place for hate and violence, kindly maintain love and peace.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Old enemies and spilled coffee pt.4"

Or "Something made a hole in my backyard pt 4"

Shadow the hedghog x reader (platonic)

Notes: I know I´m taking my time to actually make Shadow, well, do something, but we are right there, I swear. As always, if you want to be on the taglist leave a comment, and if you just want to leave a comment I don´t mind either.

Btw, idk if this is obvious but I am NOT proofreading anything of what I'm writing. Enjoy!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

You had already taken your alien-ish friend out of the box and laid it down on your bed so that it would be more comfortable. Once again you had doubted yourself over how comfortable it could possibly be, but as long as it couldn´t act in a way that showed uncomformity then it would have to deal with what it was given.

You had agreed to have lunch at your uncle´s house the next day. But in the meantime you had texted your aunt Maddie to ask her to come over to the house you were staying in under the pretense that you would share some pastries and talk about life for a while.

And so you sat on the couch waiting for time to pass and hoping that Maddie would be there soon. And, just like an angel sent from heaven, the doorbell rang and you sprinted to open the door.

On the other side awaited your lovely aunt with a huge smile on her face which reflected your own excitement. Hugs that lasted a little more than necessary and greetings were exchanged, you invited her inside and prepared tea, all while she talked about how much you had grown, how much she had missed you, etc.

"So how´s life? Any cute work friend I should know about or something?" Of course that would be between the questions, it was an aunt´s classic.

"No, everything has been rather boring actually, I mean, I was working at the salon back at home last month because they were short on staff, but truthfully? The gossip was the only entretaining part" You answered as you stirred your coffee, she had chosen chamomille tea.

"Uhhh, does that mean you can braid my hair now?" She asked with a smile as she sipped her tea and proceded to add more sugar to it.

That was one of the reasons you loved Maddie so much (not the sugar part) but the fact that she never juged your style of working, you were a freelance artist, so all the time you weren´t actively working on a project you would spend doing some minor jobs. Usually people would be all over you telling you to ´get a real job´ or stuff like that, but never Maddie, she was your ride or die, you could tell her that you were gonna climb the Everest and she would cheer you from the bottom.

That was why it came so handy that she was a vet. She probably wouldn´t even question the fact that you had brought a weirdly shaped animal all the way across the state. She trusted you, and you trusted her.

"Maddie, there´s something you should know, and I need you to remain calm and trust me, okay?"

She looked at you for a few seconds, her expression getting serious, and as she looked you dead into your eyes she asked softly:

"Is it that you are gay?"

"What! No!"

"OH, sorry, I thought this was like you getting out of the closet or..."

"No, I didn´t mean that I´m not gay, that was not what I was going to tell you!"

"Wait, so you are gay then?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I just thought that was the topic we were discussing"

At some point between the exchange you both had broken into laughter, and somehow half of your coffe laid then spilled onto the table.

"I-I am so confused hahaha" she tried to speak in between laughs, but you could see how she was struggling to breathe, laugh and talk at the same time.

While still in your happy state you cleaned up the coffee puddle with a rag and took in a few breaths to relax. Once there was air in your lungs once more, and she had calmed down as well, you continued.

"I brought an... animal with me from home, and it kind of seems to be in like a coma? I would appreciate it if you took a look at it." You explained.

"You brought an animal in a coma all the way to Green Hill? That could be very dangerous for it" She scolded you slightly as she got up from her seat to follow you to the bedroom.

"I know, but it´s like nothing I had ever seen before, and I only trust you for this"

"Does this have something to do with your mother not letting you keep pets? Because you are an adult, you can have pets if you take care of them"

You stood in front of the door and looked at her a little bit as if she had lost her mind.

"No, that´s not it, but you have to promise that you won´t say a word to nobody"

She answered an "I promise" under her breath and you opened the door slowly, allowing her into the room. Maddie didn´t scream, neither did she look back at you as she entered the room. You stayed a little behind, just waiting for some type of reaction.

Maybe if you had been by her side you would have seen the way she frowned, as every little detail on the creature in front of her fell in place perfectly with the description that Sonic, her son, had given her about the hedghog who tried to kill her husband.

She knew it was a dangerous being, but laying down on that bed among the fluffy pillows he just looked... so calm.

Silence reigned the room for a few moments, and for some reason you felt that as if the air had become thick. She approached Shadow and lifted his limbs one by one, making sure that none of his bones were broken, even squeezing a little harder than necesary. And then, Maddie turned around with a smile, walked up to you, ruffled your hair, told you that it was unlikely that the thing would be asleep for longer than three days and left with the excuse of having to buy groceries.

And so, after the sound of the front door closing, as you were looking the way your aunt had left you were once more on your own.

And, if you hadn´t turned back around, you would have probably missed the sight of red eyes fluttering open.

Taglist: @boogiemansbitch @vxllys @whoisgami @baby-bloos @sapphireravensworld

[potionwine]

#ethically i am opposed to monarchies and empires. i think being born into a royal bloodline is inherently traumatising #which makes for the juiciest tastiest drama in stories obviously #either you become a bad ruler and people will suffer at your feet. or you become a good ruler and you no longer belong to yourself #how much will you sacrifice at the altar of your ideals? #It Compels Me. Narratively

(tags from op)

#I read 2 stories about royalty/nobility recently #And one of the central things in both of them was like #You can't choose your own life because you were born into the job and nobody will let you be anything else #And I think the contrast between having immense power and yet very little agency to exercise it is compelling

(tags from tlitookilakin)

ok so i think that my favourite fantasy subgenre is The Inherent Tragedy Of Being Born Into Royalty. which mostly means that i like to read about gay princes but with some nuance

[lmo82]

How L is with N vs A

With N

-the looks he would give her during the whole tour

-always touching/cuddling

-always holding hands and L will bring her hand even closer to him, like towards his legs more or in Brazil his Crotch…lol

-Always being body guard Luke

-Pulls her closer to his body, like in Italy WT pictures

-they share drinks and utensils like couples do

-interviewers believe they are really in love.  The one gasp from the reporter when N caresses L hair

-they both talk about how much they love each other 

-L meeting N family.  This one is HUGE for me and the one I always go back to.  N sister crying when Mom and L hug.  SIL snapping her fingers, while patting N’s brother on the chest.  Mom nodding her head approvingly as she walks back to her seat.  And in another video it shows N wiping away tears as her mom and L hug.  

-L wouldn’t let go of N hand at the London premiere

-the ring, enough said there

-As an add on N mentioning people wanting her to marry L in Time.  She also mentions her dad who has passed and she rarely talks about him.  To me it seems like she is mentioning the two most important men in her life in a very very important article about herself

How L is with A

-NYE kiss, where maybe they were drunk and then apparently a simple kiss the next day at a tennis court(have not seen this one). This was pre WT so to me it doesn’t even need to be including per say, but doing it anyway

-she was on friend trips with L, never seemed alone, even if that was alluded to

-Was at both premieres but L avoided her, even when she tried holding his hand…claw grasp anyone? 

-A was at GQ event with R and S too.  All pictures of them together he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else

-In Sorrento he was Lifeguard Luke *

-in videos he doesn’t know he is being recorded he avoids her, like not being near each other for Rs birthday cake video or the recent Boss event bts footage

-Didn’t see them around each other since July until recently.  Just pictures alluding to them being around each other 

-Boss event where after helping her out of the car let’s go of her hand and it looked awkward.

-Inside Boss event they did look close and laughing and hands on each others backs.*

-like stated above though, bts video of the event shows that after they walked into the event they weren’t close to each other.  Another bts video of them getting drinks again not close, in fact L seem to keep his drink in his right hand to keep the space between them

In conclusion how he is with N screams love and couple.  The only thing that says couple with A are the two on my list with the * .  And both those times it appears they knew they were being filmed.  Now I don’t know why N and L would go to this trouble to pretend to be in relationships with others.  Not going to address JD because that one isn’t worth a breakdown If you look at his friends and SM.   On the other hand I don’t understand why the world tour would all be PR either…especially with N family involved.  A lot of what we got from, N and L was from the WT, so people want to ignore it as PR…I don’t.  Yesterday I kind of went down that path and it doesn’t make sense.  It just doesn’t.  So if we believe that the WT was them being them, we need to realize that 2 somewhat displays of affection between L and A are not even close to the levels we got from L and N.  Why are we holding more weight to those 2 displays.  Especially when L has never confirmed that is his girlfriend.  And the few articles written have always been about promoting A.  I know to the outside or more “realist” people we seem conspiracy level nuts, but we are looking at the big picture imo.