#and that’s as good a reason to keep going as any

[dollfacefantasy]

caleb x fem!reader

you and caleb used to play fight a lot, but things are different now that you're older

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fauxcest, dry humping

a/n: um hehe just a small drabble cause i've been thinking... also i like the pipsqueak thing idgaf kiss me about it. imagine this takes place when she’s staying with him.

"isn't this around the time you'd usually cry mercy, pipsqueak?" he breathes, his smooth voice warming the air next to your ear.

a small grunt escapes you as you try to lift your arm to shove him off. your effort is pointless though. his grip tightens around your wrist, and he brings your limb back down to the floor without much effort.

“caleb, quit it!” you whine.

he just laughs at you. his body doesn’t move away an inch. he stays right where he his, hovering over your smaller frame.

the two of you used to play fight all the time as kids. you’d squabble over the remote or your toys. whiny arguments would morph into a small scuffle, a test of wills. so it felt natural today to lunge at him when he held the book you wanted to read just out of reach. getting physical made sense. you’d been so agitated with him keeping you here, you needed to blow off some steam. it just didn’t feel so good when reality set in as he wrestled you down to the floor like always.

“it’s not funny,” you say and try to jam your knee up into his abs.

he dodges the move and continues to smirk at you. “maybe not to you. but it’s pretty funny from up here. pretty cute too,” he teases.

you scowl, squirming some more. in your younger years, you’d always been able to fight back a little. you’d lose in the end, sure, but victory had been in reach a few times. now, caleb is stronger. he’s bigger, and he doesn’t fight like a scrappy high school kid but rather someone with training. you’re starting to realize you have no chance now, and part of you wonders if you ever did. or maybe he’d been going easy on you.

as if to taunt you, he slides your arms up above your head and grabs both your wrists with one hand. even with his other one free, he keeps you pinned with the same amount of force. it’s fucking humiliating. you feel your cheeks starting to heat up as he drags the back of his fingers along your jaw, cooing at you.

“you always used to get so angry like this too. so frustrated. you’d think you would’ve learned not to start fights you can’t win,” he mocks.

his thumb comes to sweep along your cheekbone, back in forth in slow strokes. he stares into your eyes while he does, almost studying you. it gets you heated for a whole other reason you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“get off of me,” you squeak, your voice much less aggressive now.

“maybe i will if you beg enough,” he taunts, “if you use your manners and say please like a good girl, i’ll consider it.”

“shut up!” you say. you kick a few more times and buck your hips to try and get loose.

in response, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams it back to the ground. you let out a little growl, assuming you’ll have to restrategize. but then he pushes his pelvis down on top of yours.

you gasp. all the fight leaves you in a harsh blow because now, unlike any of the other times you play fought with him, you feel a solid bulge pressing between your legs.

your eyes widen, and you sputter. you’re sure you look totally stupid right now. but you don’t know what else to do. there’s no question about it. he’s got a boner, and he’s rubbing it right up against you.

“i told you. you’re not gonna win. might as well surrender,” he says. he speaks in a completely even tone, as if nothing is different.

“c-caleb. what are you doing?” you start, “don’t be weird.”

“i’m not being weird,” he defends with feigned innocence, “we always used to mess around like this. what’s got you all shy now?”

you know why he’s asking. because he knows you won’t say it. the answer is so easy, yet you can’t bring the words to leave your lips.

“you know what,” you whine softly.

he chuckles and leans in even closer to your face. “maybe i do. but i don’t think that it’s weird. we’re not kids anymore. you can’t whine and wriggle around like that and expect me not to react,” he murmurs.

your heart beats harder in your chest. you can feel every thump. before you can say anything in return, he grinds his hips again, rolling his hardened length right up against you. and this time, it feels good.

“i- caleb- we can’t,” you whimper, biting your lip.

“we can’t? we can’t what? we’re not doing anything,” he says before grinning at you, “it doesn’t count if it’s over the clothes.”

you want to smack him, but both your arms are still immobile.

“it’s still weird. we’ve never- i don’t see you like this,” you insist, though the last statement is a complete lie.

he tsks and shakes his head before pushing his erection between your legs for another time. this one draws a whine out of you. his hips jump forward at the sound, but he doesn’t let his face show that burst of desire.

“what do you see me like then?” he whispers.

silence fills the air between the two of you as you fail to answer. you know what you see him as. you know your crush on him goes back years. you know what fantasies fill your head at night when you’re alone.

but you also know how you want to see him. what you’re supposed to see him as. what you’ve tried to limit his role to for so long.

“it’s ok,” he finally says, “i won’t make you say it if it’s that hard. but i know you like this. i know you, remember?”

he grinds against you again, but this time it’s not only once. now he sets himself into a rhythm, consistent swings of his hips against your center.

“i know when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re ashamed,” he says, “i know when you want something, but you’re too scared to ask.”

ducking in, he kisses your neck. you moan in response, putting no effort into suppressing the noise now.

“that’s right, princess. your big brother knows you better than anyone, doesn’t he?” he coos mockingly.

“caleb!” you whine. you internally cringe at both titles, but outwardly, your face still contorts with pleasure.

“what?” he laughs, “that’s what you were gonna say before, wasn’t it?”

“but i didn’t,” you whimper.

“but you thought it, and it’s all the same to me,” he teases.

he refocuses his mouth on your neck again. his lips move over the column of your throat while his cock continues pressing right on your pussy. it feels better by the second. maybe it’s because he’s kissing your neck too, you’re not really sure. all you know is the hot, sparkling feeling in your stomach is building.

nipping at your pulse point, he then sucks on the skin like he wants to leave a mark. his tongue laves at it for a few moments before he pulls off.

“i’m gonna let go of your arms. you’re gonna behave, ok?” he mumbles against your skin.

“mhm,” you whimper and nod. the overt submission feels pathetic, but losing the feeling of him would be even worse.

“good girl,” he praises.

he keeps his word and releases his hold on your wrists. the air feels cool on your skin that’s all warmed up from his hands. now with his other arm in use, he can snake one around your ass and boost your hips. the new angle allows him to thrust against you harder.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts. you feel his lashes brush your neck as his eyes flutter.

your arms loop over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. more little mewls spill from your lips. you can feel his stiff length sliding right up against your folds through your clothes. every swipe brings a blissful burst of friction to your poor throbbing clit.

“there you go. i got you. big brother’s got you,” he mumbles mindlessly. he chokes out a moan into your shoulder as his hips move like they have a mind of their own.

your body starts to squirm more. that hot feeling inside is reaching a boiling point. you clutch at his shirt, your nails digging in so hard they threaten to tear the fabric. the constant push and pull of his lower half is nearly hypnotic. it seems like you’ll be under him forever while also on the brink of letting go.

after a few moments more, he pulls back to look at you. his eyelids hang low, heavy with his desire for you.

“god, you’re so pretty. so fuckin’ beautiful now,” he says and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes shut while your breaths mingle. “i knew you wanted this too. just look at you. almost falling apart, and i haven’t even really touched you. i knew no one else could do this better.”

all you can do is whimper softly and cling to him harder. you pull on him as if trying to pull him into your body, to meld your two beings into one. the pressure down below feels dull and muted, but it’s blooming nonetheless.

“yeah… you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties,” he mutters, “get ‘em all nice and wet so i can have some fun with ‘em later.”

“caleb…” you whine, useful words falling out of your grasp in this moment. one of your hands flies up and laces in his hair. your fingers clench into a fist, giving the strands a sharp tug.

he groans and bucks his hips extra hard. “c’mon. cum for me, baby. let me make my sweet little angel cum,” he murmurs.

it really doesn’t take much to get you there. the friction burn he’s rutting you both into works, and you feel yourself hit the high. euphoria rushes through you. a little breathy whine erupts from your lips. your back arches off the floor, but he keeps you cradled against him securely.

the whole time you’re cumming, he’s still humping you like his life depends on it. it’s when you start to come down, that he finally explodes. he buries his face in your neck, letting out the loudest moan you’ve heard so far. his arms tighten up around your frame as his fingers dig into your malleable flesh.

his hips jolt forward in random twitches now, chasing the last remnants of release while he spills inside his pants.

when he’s done, his breaths are harsh and labored. he nuzzles the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek and receding off your body. his palm runs over his face lazily.

“fuck, i gotta change now,” he says, not bothering to look down at the dark patch at the front of his pants.

without even really thinking about it, you reach forward for the waistline. you’re already craving more of him. but before your hand can get there, he takes your wrist.

“not so fast, pipsqueak. i think you should actually beat me before i let you have the real thing,” he smirks.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

As a dog owner myself, this drives me fucking bonkers. Because, first and foremost, forcing retail workers or friends to put up with your dog when you have not previously agreed to do that is bullshit. It's rude. It's uncaring. And, especially in retail spaces, it makes shit harder for people with service dogs.

We recently went to a yarn store that had previously been welcoming to all dogs. We took Bean because we'd been able to before. There was a sign on the door saying "service animals only."

So, Sean and Bean went back to the car while I did my shopping.

Because we're not assholes, and our dog is not required to be the center of everyone's fucking universe.

I do NOT bring Bean to anyone's house without first gaining permission because that's fucking rude. No one's ever turned us down, but if they did, fine. It just puts a minor limit of how long we can stay since she'll need to be crated while we're out of the house, and we prefer she not be crated for more than about four hours if we can manage it (she has proven she can be crated up to eight hours if necessary, but we would rather not make her do that on the regular as it is not the regular routine).

She is a very dog-reactive dog. We keep this in mind in all places we bring her. She is less reactive if we pick her up, but if she starts barking before we can, we have to make her follow the rules of "You fucking know you're not supposed to be acting like this" before we can scoop her, and it's stressful to everyone. It's why she is NOT allowed in houses with other animals because she will bark at any other dogs and try to fight any other animal. So, we won't even ask if we can bring her if we know you have animals, and we will ask if you have animals and let you know she's an ass if we don't know.

I'm not writing this out as a "Haha I'm so much better at dog ownership than you idiots." I'm writing this out because I think Sean and I do a good job of wanting to be with our dog but also not being dicks to other people, and these are the ways we keep that balance. If you don't want my dog in your house, that's 100% fair. It's your house. She can hang out safe and warm in the crate while we enjoy your company.

If you come to my house, you know we have a dog, and if you don't want her to cuddle up on you, we will do our best to keep her from deciding you are something to sleep on. Yes, it's her house, and she's our pup, but you are also our guest, and it's our job to make sure you are comfortable. We're lucky she prefers to sleep with us when people are staying over, honestly. It takes a whole issue out of the equation.

Also, shout out to @infiniteeight8 who is great at refusing to let Bean do whatever she wants because then it lets us watch Bean go into 'cat mode' in order to get pets. Basically, Bean will do all her cute dog shit to try and get pets, and inf will go, "No. Not interested." and Sean and I will distract Bean away as well. But she will always try again, and Inf will refuse again and make it clear she's not into it, and finally Bean will just lay down next to her, and Inf will go, "Yes, this is good. Be a cat," and pet Bean, and then the rest of the time Inf is visiting, Bean will just go cat mode to get the attention she wants.

But the only reason it works is because Sean and I, as Bean's people, reinforce that Bean doesn't get to do whatever she wants just because it's her house. You are responsible for your dog, and part of that responsibility is not forcing your dog onto other people.

We gotta do something about the way dog owners behave. No other pet owner is just bringin the pet wherever the fuck they go all the time but for some reason with dog owners they think its fine if they bring their dog to the gym and taco bell and whatever. And you invite a dog owner to your house where youve got your own pets youve got your dog and your cats and whatever it is you have and this dog owner shows up at your door like "oh i brought my dog i hope thats okay hes so sweet youll love him" and it is always the most untrained poorly behaved agressive animal that has ever lived. And we all have to pretend like its acceptable behaviour well im sick of it

[pricegouge]

shovel talk

it's not even six in the morning and yet the shovel grates across the walkway, grit of pebbles beneath its steel edge scraping and catching. it balks in unsteady hands, tries again with another drawn out rasp before meeting the wall of the bank. trembling as it rises, it spills a portion its spare load back across the pavers before being tipped meticulously atop the mountain of snow that runs parallel the walk. she lets the shovel fall carelessly ahead of her and grits her teeth, rises an inch and scoots forward minutely, dragging the cheap lawn chair she's been perched on along by a hand shoved between her knees, gripping the seat. it scrapes just as much as the shovel, heavy with implication. she's not even wearing a proper jacket, just a flannel over a zip up hoodie, the wool weave of her button up already beaded with melted snow.

she looks ornery and mulish, but so are you and you can't just keep walking past.

clear blue eyes turn on you when you call to her, ask if you can help. her hands might shake but her gaze is level, taking you in from head to toe before scooting herself along another inch. "shouldn't be doin' that," she advises, voice croaky in her old age.

"neither should you," you counter, nodding at her makeshift mobility aid. it teeters when she turns to chuckle at you, though she hides it in a cough. stubborn old bat, you can already tell.

"anyway my son will be here soon."

pursing your lips, you look the walk over properly. the poor woman's already done over half of it - how late is the son exactly? but you don't comment on it, step closer when her shovel catches on a shelf of ice instead. "give it here, please," you offer rather diplomatically. she frowns apprehensively but does as told, shuffling her seat back a smidge to give you room to work. it takes a couple tries but you catch the bottom edge of the ice, ply it back and huck it over the bank easily enough. it thunks as it sinks through the snow, a real ice breaker.

"and here i'd pegged you for some soft, sweet thing," she laughs, sheepish.

"must've loosened it for me," you shrug, and turn to finish the walk while she's distracted, laughing herself into a minor coughing fit. "should you go inside?" you offer, unsure if it's a good suggestion seeing as that would leave some strange woman alone on her front lawn.

thankfully she just waves you off as she calms herself down, heavy breaths clouding around her like the smoke that's probably catching up to her. "can't. gotta take credit for your work when my son gets here."

"oh, i see how it is," you snark, and purposefully leave a good quarter inch on the paver, a base level that will freeze solid soon enough and create another sheet of ice for her to struggle with in the future.

she just eyes you, thin eyebrow pulled low on a once-heavy brow. she may be old and frail but it's a sort of sternness that doesn't dull with age and you can only smile to yourself as you fix it. no wonder her son still comes by to help. "he running late?" you ask conversationally, nod up the path where she's already done most of the work by way of explanation when she hmm's at you.

"oh, no. he'll be two hours early, probably. which is why i'm out here three hours early. a woman's got to have her pride, after all."

you nod along as if that's reasonable. "well what's he gonna do when he gets here, then?"

"fix my water heater," she gripes. "say, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

it earns an unladylike snort from you, but you don't think she's the type to mind. "'fraid not."

the stoop is easy enough, just a quick swipe to clean the steps. you note the name above the door with some interest, a misplaced desire to keep tags on her, come back and check maybe. "got any salt, mrs. price?"

she motions you toward the open garage behind her but sticks a hand out for help as you pass. her grip is surprisingly strong on your forearm, the fingers of her other hand digging into your tricep almost cruelly when she uses you to drag herself up. you snatch the lawn chair up before she can even try it, nod toward the garage questioningly.

"next to the overhead, please," she agrees, and you find the bucket of salt right beside it, an empty coffee can already filled and ready for dispensing. when you emerge from the garage, there's a truck parked out front.

"give me that," mrs. price hisses and you jump to find her so close, already snatching the can from your fingers. old bat can still move.

the driver's door creaks when it closes. you can only see the top of a blue beanie from over the roof of it but mrs. price doesn't wait to see him before hollering at her son. "i thought you wouldn't be here until nine!?"

tall and burly with his mother's same stern brow, price junior rounds the corner of his truck and frowns between the two of you."and i thought you didn't like when other people shoveled for you," he counters before tacking on a quick hi pet towards you.

"hi -."

"who's shoveled for me?" she demands, motioning up the walk with another spray of salt. "did this all on my own."

he hums as he comes closer, boots crunching over the thin dusting of snow that still coats the driveway. you sincerely hope mrs. price didn't shovel all that, but judging by the banks that line the drive you suspect a service was likely hired. why they couldn't take an extra two minutes to clear an old lady's walkway you'd never know. you think maybe the son is wondering the same, the way he's inspecting the short stretch critically, but when he opens his mouth it's not at all meant to insult the snow removal service. "you're losing your touch, woman."

you're unsure who's more offended, yourself or his mother. "what's wrong with it?" you blurt, unheeding of the way mrs. price elbows you again.

"i've done a fine job," she supplies, trying to save face.

he just tilts his head at her patronizingly, rocks up onto his toes to appear unnecessarily bigger. "you've forgotten we're expecting more snowfall soon. you'll want to widen the walk to push the banks back, make it easier to shovel out the next storm."

this ass. "well if you'd wanted it done right, you should have shown up on time," you huff, unreasonably defensive of the quick job you'd done.

he's still got that insufferable expression on when he turns to you, but you think you see an edge of something playful glimmering in his clear blue eyes, that same expression his mother had worn when she'd asked if you could perhaps also take his job fixing her water heater. "'on time' would be hours from now," he reminds you. "would you have had this all fixed by then?"

the worst part is, calling him out on the insult would mean admitting you'd done it, and you're suddenly very aligned with this man's mother re: his versus her pride. instead you turn his own words back on him, leaning close to your new friend to ask her if she's going to take that.

she chuckles. "oh, don't mind him. john here's just scared because he knows his job is at risk."

you watch john frown between the two of you, the furrow between his brows deepening in a way which brings you too much pleasure. part of you wants to stay, keep carving away at his pride, but you're now running late for work and you still have a few blocks to walk. "well, it was lovely to meet you, mrs. price," you say with an overly formal shake of her hand.

"pleasure doing business," she agrees with a wry smile. "see you again bright and early next snow storm."

john doesn't budge to let you pass, instead squints down at you in open assessment. you note his cheeks are rosy with the cold and you briefly hope he gets stuck outside fixing the damn walk, cold wind stinging the chapped apples of cheeks which his ridiculous beard doesn't quite cover. they scrunch up when he affects a smile, lend a sort of disarmingly childish quality to the patronizing tone he still can't quite drop. it just pisses you off even more. "didn't actually catch your name," he prompts, gloved hand extended, as if attempting to continue the ruse.

"that's because i didn't give it," you chirp in your best customer service voice. you brush past him when he can only blink in confusion, the contrast between your words and your tone evidently too much for him to process so early in the morning.

"she usually pays me with breakfast if you want to stick around!" he calls after you, far too late to start acting sweet.

you nearly slip in your haste to spin around and fix him with an overly saccharine smile. "oh, i already ate. got here at five," you lie, just to watch his face crumble into genuine concern.

behind him, his mother's thin mouth twists into a cheshire grin and you stumble away before she can solidify any real plans.

too bad she's just as stubborn and ornery as you.

too bad john's worse than both of you.

[httpsserene]

hi can i please send a request for the kink list rating? for franco, oscar, charles, lewis and carlos with begging. also congrats on 3k!

🧽🪣 would you like a complimentary car wash? — send me any five (5) drivers and one (1) kink from this list, and i will rank the drivers in order of who i think is most to least likely to participate/avoid, or love/hate that kink !!! each driver will have a small blurb written xxx

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. this one is a lil shorter but i think it's actually better quality? don't ask mehow i wrote this in the middle of my 9 am lecture...i'm not proud of that either. happy 3k🤍 lovely !!! tysm for requesting xxx

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

𝐦𝐭𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 fem!black!reader x cl. 16 | fc. 43 | lh. 44 | cs. 55 | op. 81 cw under the cut.

implied bdsm dynamics. teasing. overstimulation. hinting at the existence of a safeword in carlos'. charles' praise kink. oscar is a lil weird maybe. sir kink for lewis...my fault y'all, i can't help it.

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭

Franco’s not going to give you what you want until you beg for it. He loves to watch you grow desperate, your voice whiny and eyes watery as he begins to tease you with the faintest brush of his thumb on your clit after he’s been shallowly thrusting two of his fingers within you nowhere near long enough to satisfy himself but for what feels like forever to you. Franco’s aiming to bring you to the point where his name becomes a synonym for please in your thesaurus. The purpose of his teasing behavior is to make you delirious with pleasure when he chooses to give it to you in full force—your orgasms are substantially more satisfying when he makes you earn it.

Carlos thinks there are very few things more attractive than you begging. He finds you endearing as you push at his chest, your voice slurring as you plead for him to give you a break, that you can’t take what he’s giving you. He knows you don’t mean it though, not yet, at least—because while your hands are half-heartedly trying to bat him away, your legs are locked around his waist, keeping him firmly pressed inside of you to disallow him from slipping away. Carlos gathers both of your wrists in one hand, pinning your arms above your head as he continues his deep grinding rhythm, muffling his rumbling groans into the crook of your neck—you know what word to use if you need him to stop. In the meantime, he’ll keep basking under the sound of your overwhelmed begs.

It depends—Charles doesn’t have sex with the intention of having you beg for him most times. Honestly, he prefers to make you forget how to speak during sex, he wants to hear you gasping for breath as he fucks the air out of your lungs. If you are going to say anything, let it satisfy his endless desire for praise. Tell him that he’s doing a good job, that he looks hot with his head between your legs—his praise kink wins over his begging kink any day. Occasionally, there are days where Charles is going to make you ride his thigh and keep you on the edge, your throat will ache from the amount of times you beg for him to let you cum—but, he’s not in the mood for that often.

Oscar doesn’t consider his particular affliction as a begging kink. With him, it’s more of a kink for good manners. It’s not like he’s making you ask his permission to do anything, no—it’s how you stare up at him with deceivingly innocent eyes right before you say, “Can I suck you off, please?” Or, “Oscar, I wanna ride your face, please?” It’s not like any man would deny any of your requests, but it’s how the word please sounds rolling off of your tongue—it has Oscar ready to do anything you ask of him. You think his arousal stemming from politeness fits his personality perfectly; he can only think it’s kind of embarrassing. 

You’re going to be happy with what Lewis gives you. There’s no reason to beg because you know that he has your best interests at heart. Doesn’t he always deliver? You don’t have to worry about what you want because Lewis is going to give you what you need—your focus is to sit pretty while he handles the hard work. Let him eat you out to his heart’s content, let him mold your walls to the shape of his cock through numerous rounds of sex—All he wants to hear from you while he does it is, “Yes, sir,” and, “Thank you, sir.”

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. mdni divider by @cafekitsune.

[littelovelunette]

Hiiii. I have a very unhinged request .. but g!p sevika and bratty reader. She fucks reader pussy to the point of overstimulation but she still wants to keep going but reader is sensitive there so sevika takes readers ass instead :^

Two Holes For A Reason

G!P Sevika

Contains smut, anal, overstimulation, squirting, spanking, nipple clamps, hitting, degradation, creampie

You had been extra bratty with Sevika lately pissing her off way past her limits, teasing her in public, getting her riled up sexually and doing nothing about it, wearing the shortest dresses known to mankind.

You were going all out because you knew all her punishments on the back of your left hand, that's how predictable she was.

However, this time Sevika had something else planned out completely.

Sevika had your wrists tied up with ropes that dug into your skin creating red abrasions, sore nipples clamped tightly making every little jiggle hurt your tits, and she was fucking your pussy out so hard that you were afraid she'd break your pubic bone.

Hips thrusting and pistoning her huge cock into your tight little cunt making a wet slapping sound with each thrust. Her balls slapping against your skin with every single thrust, she was close but she wanted to make you cum before.

She didn't care how loud you screamed and what the neighbours thought. "I'ma break your hole," she grunted and got even faster making your eyes roll into the back of your head, pinching your little clit between two of her thick fingers and pulling it roughly as if to make her point.

"Daddy, it hurts!" You screamed out in pain and pleasure, tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes which were starting to squeeze shut in the overwhelming feelings.

She pulled back a little, landing a slap on your face making you whine even more as she continued pounding your pussy, "Shut up and take it, you dirty little whore," Sevika hissed out, gritting her teeth when you clenched over her invading shaft.

Sevika's cock slammed against your cervix with each thrust creating a tight familiar knot in your stomach, her muscular arms grabbing both your legs and folding you with ease so she could hit deeper into your sopping wet pussy. The new position hit somewhere deep and hard that made you scream out in pleasure, unable to form any proper coherent words, choking on your own saliva as you struggled to contain your own sounds.

"DADDY! DADDY!" You could only cry out and moan loudly as you squirted all over the dildo, body trembling and pussy convulsing as you did. A white ring forming around the meaty length buried in your warmth.

The muscular woman let her movements slow for a second before she started ramming deep into your hole again, hands, both mechanical and flesh, finding their way at each of your side as she fucked into your hole movements almost desperate to bring out her own release.

With a final thrust, she filled your pussy up, milky white hot semen dribbling out of your tight cunt, staining the sheets below but she didn't give a fuck.

Sevika loved the sight of your pussy filled up with her cum, she wasn't tired of course her stamina was unlike any other and unmatched.

Sevika pulled back with a grunt, cock slipping out of your pussy with a plop, "Such a slut," Sevika said with condescension aiming a slap on your overfilled pussy making the red handprint etch onto your skin

You yelped slightly at the sudden contact of her hand on your pussy. Sevika lined her cock against your pussy again but you blabbered out, "Daddy, no, please, I'm sore, I can't anymore," you said your voice a whisper and throat sore from screaming so loud.

Sevika folded you again with ease and thrusted her dick in your asshole this time. Your tight asshole stretched around the huge shaft trying to accommodate to such a huge length at once because you knew she wouldn't let you up anytime soon.

"Oh, goodness, Sevika, it hurts!" You let out a loud whimper and Sevika slapped your pussy, shoving her dick balls deep inside making you gasp, "S-sorry, daddy..." You corrected the title.

Sevika grunted, "Relax girl you're tightening up around my cock a bit too much," she said and squeezed your boobs making the nipples ache in between the clamps.

"H-hurts.." you whined as her dick started drilling into your ass making semen spill out of your pussy, "Oh my gosh daddy you're fucking me sooo good!" You screamed out hands grabbing the rope that held your hands in place as your legs threatened to fall back down.

Sevika sensing that grabbed a hold of your fleshy thighs to keep you folded while her cock pounded deep into your rectum, making the rim of your hole swell red.

"Fuck doll you're so wet," Sevika said, her breath shuddering a little you knew she was close to cumming.

Sevika's fingers dug into your your thighs and Sevika's veins bulged in her muscles and at the sides of her neck, shimmer scars glowing as she filled up your rectum with her warm semen

When she pulled her cock out semen, squirted of your asshole making Sevika chuckle a little, "Not good at taking it up your ass huh?" She slapped your thigh, "Keep the load in, slut."

"Yes, daddy..." You could only mumble tiredly making the harshness in Sevika's eyes soften, she reached forward untying your wrists

"Come on, my lovely," Sevika helped you up, guiding you to the bathroom and sat you down to the toilet, kneeling down in front of you so she could take the nipple clamps off, "No more being bratty, okay, my obedient doll?"

[arc-misadventures]

Team Leader Woes

Glynda: Hello, Mr. Arc. Do you know why i called you here today?

Jaune: Noooo...

Glynda: It's because you fell asleep in my class. In fact, you have fallen asleep in a multitude of class other than my own.

Jaune: I'm sorry, Professor Goodwitch...

Glynda: Would you care to explain why you keep falling asleep during classes?

Jaune: I haven't been able to get a proper good nights sleep for the past few... weeks...

Glynda: Weeks? What is happening, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: My... Yawnnnnnn... My teammates aren't giving me time to sleep...

Glynda: Your teammates? What are they doing that keeps you awake at night?

Jaune: My partner... Neo...

Glynda: Yes, Ms. Politian, what of her?

Jaune: Well... When I go to bed, Neo comes over to me, and... and...

Glynda: And...?

Jaune: Uhhh...

~~~

Jaune: Huw, what?

Neo: 😁👋

Jaune: Neo? What is it?

Neo: 👌🍆💦😁

Jaune: Oh come on, Neo, I need to get some sleep... And, not with you...

Neo: 😠

Neo: 🤔

Neo: 😀☝️

Jaune: Neo, what are you...

Neo:

Jaune: ...

~~~

Jaune: She's been trying to sleep with me, and she's been keeping me up at night with all of her attempts...

Glynda: What is wrong with that? She wants to sleep next...

Jaune: ...

Glynda: You're talking about sex, aren't you?

Jaune: Yes... She's been rather... thirsty... and, keeping me up late at night with her advances... She's been whitling me down until I snap, and... do her...

Glynda: I see... And, unless you sleep with her, you won't be able to get any sleep?

Jaune: Yes...

Glynda: Any idea why she is... doing this to you...

Jaune: I uhh... I triggered a kink in her...

Glynda: You what?!

Jaune: She was being a brat, so I grabbed her by the neck, and slammed her against the ground... She blushed like a ripping tomato, and has been trying to seduce me ever since... Short stacks like to be man handled it seems...

Glynda: Oh... okay... Well... Despite all of this, your combat grades have improve drastically! Why you even beat, Ms. Xiao Long the other day. When you first started she would, pardon the expression, mop the floor with you. Now you can hold your ground with the best of them, and even win. You should be proud of yourself, Jaune.

Jaune: Thank... Yawnnn... Thank you, Professor... but, that's most because of the twins... threats...

Glynda: The Twins threat? Are you talking about your teammates the, Malachite twins?

Jaune: Yep...

Glynda: What exactly are they... threatening you with?

Jaune: Yawnnn... The pair agreed to train me, but if I fail... They'll...

Glynda: They'll...?

~~~

Jaune: Thanks guys! I really appreciate you guys training with me.

Miltia : Think nothing of it, Jaune!

Melanie: It's our pleasure!

Miltia, and Melanie:

Jaune: Alright! I'm ready!

Miltia: Oh! Before we begin, Jaune we have to tell you something.

Jaune: Oh, what?

Melanie: If we beat you!

Miltia: Whoever beats you gets to have sex with you on the spot!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: What?!

~~~

Jaune: ...

Glynda: S-Seriously...

Jaune: Yeah... I've been running on fumes trying to stop both the twins, and Neo's advances... I am absolutely exhausted...

Glynda: Oh... Those are certainly some... understandable reasonings on why you haven't been sleeping...

Jaune: Yeah... pretty much...

Glynda: Are you falling asleep, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: I've been falling asleep for the last two weeks...

Glynda: Oh~? Come here, Jaune. Place your head down here...

Jaune: This is.. this is your lap... Are you giving me a lap pillow...?

Glynda: Yes, I am?

Jaune: Why...?

Glynda: Because, you're such a brave student, trying to hold out as long against those little sluts. Here, rest your head upon my succulent thighs for as long as you want I'll keep those horny brats away from you~!

Jaune: Oh... okay... Thank you... Professor...

Glynda: My pleasure, Jaune~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: ...

Glynda smiled as she watched, Jaune's resting face as he slumbered across her thighs she looked up, and saw the rest of, Jaune's teammates before flipping them the bird.

Glynda: He's all mine bitches~!

Neo: 🤬💢

Melanie: Fuck!

Miltia: I knew we were pushing him too hard!

///

I think the punk aesthetic would have looked better than the gothic lolita in my opinion.

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your tension with Joel comes to a head as you make a confession that will change your relationship with him forever.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Langauge, oral (F receiving) , one thigh slap, p in v, Joel being super into boobs

Word Count: 3.5k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

July 2024

Joel stands a mere five feet from you. His chest heaves a bit, like he's dashed out of the bar to catch you. His hands rest on his hips as he leans on one leg.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to leave a man on the dance floor?"

You look down at the grass and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

"Sorry." You say earnestly, "Just needed some air."

Joel shakes his head, "It's alright, sweetheart, Y'just scared me it's all. Thought you might've been getting sick or something."

You shake your head. No, you're not sick. He's considerate to ask though. Ellie had a nasty stomach bug a week and a half ago, you had become her in-home nurse and spoon-fed her thin chicken broth until she could eat solids again.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong then?" Joel asks

You curse him. He always seems to know when something is off with you. Even here in the low light of the streetlights in Jackson, he could see you were thinking.

Yeah, thinking about him.

"It's nothing." You brush him off, "I think I'll just go back home and take a shower. You should go back to the party, though, I bet Tommy misses you."

Joel catches you by the elbow as you go to turn away from him again.

"Now, hold on. It's clear I've upset you, tell me what's wrong." He prods, "Lay it on me, I can handle it."

You scoff. Yeah right. He couldn't handle it in 2003, what made him think he'd be able to accept it now.

"Just let me go." You huff, pulling at your arm

"No, Not 'til you tell me what's wrong." Joel's grip tightens, not enough to bruise, but firm enough so you feel his fingers leaving indents in your skin.

You struggle again for a moment before relenting. Fine, if he wanted to know, he was going to know. No sense in hiding it until one of you dies or gets munched on by a Clicker.

"It's you, Joel." You say

"Me?" He asks, dropping your arm, confusion taking over his stupidly handsome face.

"You're the fucking problem." You point your finger into his chest for good measure, "Giving me all these nicknames and letting me sleep in your bed. You're under my fucking skin and I can't get over you."

Joel is looking at you like you've lost it. Good, maybe if he thinks you're crazy, he'll leave you alone, and you can get over him.

"You don't like it when I do those things for you? Want me to stop, cuz I will." Joel says, his anger beginning to rise to meet yours.

You groan, deep down, you really don't know what you want. Maybe you do. God, it was all so fucked up, falling for him again, you were losing it.

"No! I just...I don't..." You huff, wrapping your arms around your body, "I can't keep going like this. Pretending like it's all platonic because it's not."

Here goes nothing, no taking this one back.

"I'm in love with you, Joel. I'm fucking obsessed with you, and your nicknames, teasing, and constant worry over me aren't helping."

Joel is quiet as he takes it all in, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. You squeeze your arms around your body, digging your fingers into your arms til it burns.

"I-I know you dumped me for a reason, I get it, I do." You stammer, "I can get over my feelings again, I'll do it again, I swear..."

Joel finally finds his voice as he gives you a one-word reply, "No."

You ignore him and continue your warpath, "Look, let's just pretend I never said any of this, okay. I'll move back to my house and we can keep being friends."

Your voice practically dies in your throat as you add, "Please, just don't...leave me again."

"I'm not goin' anywhere." Joel sighs deeply and takes a step forward. His natural scent invades your nose as he takes your face in his hands.

"You're crazy, y'know that, girl."

"If you're gonna ridicule me, you can let go and do it further away." You huff in annoyance. You'd just laid your soul bare for this man, and the first thing he does is call you crazy. The audacity he had.

"Now, let me finish." He says sternly

"You can't take your confession back," A small smile plays on his lips. "Because I am just as fucking obsessed with you, baby."

You scoff, yeah, right, he was fucking with you. Joel's thumb runs a soothing path across your cheek,

"I'm not lying, scouts honor." He says

"You weren't even a boy scout." You remind him. thinking back to what you knew about Joel's childhood.

"Hmph, you're right about that one," Joel gives you a coy smile, "Guess I'll just have to show ya then,"

His voice drops a bit and you swear your heart skips a beat,

"Let me show how fucking in love with you I am, baby..."

Before you have a chance to blink, his lips are brushing yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you tilt your head a bit to deepen the kiss. Joel lets out a deep groan when your hands come up to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

Joel pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, "Still think I'm lyin' to ya?"

A giggle escapes your lips as you shake your head, and he steals another kiss from you.

"I was in love with you again the moment I saw ya shoveling horse shit when I first got here." He confesses, "Couldn't believe you were still alive."

You snort and pull back from him to look him in the eye, "Cuz the overalls and rubber boots I wore are so attractive. Besides, if you were so into me again, why'd you say you didn't know me to Ellie?"

Joel's eyes soften as he takes in your determined look, you want the truth, not some half-assed excuse.

"I dunno," Joel mumbles, his eyes dropping down to the neckline of your dress.

You scoff as he looks away, here he is not owning up to anything.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Joel? You're a fuckin-"

"I'm sorry." He blurts out, "For all of it. I'm sorry for dumpin' ya before the world ended, I was a real dick, baby. Mailing your shit back like that. I shouldn't have done that."

You hum, in acknowledgment, looking up into his deep brown eyes.

Joel leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, "Shouldn't have said I didn't know ya to Ellie when we got here either, don't know what I was thinking."

"I get it, if ya change your mind. I'll let you go, just say the word and I'll let you go, I swear. You deserve better than I can offer anyway, I had my chance and blew it already."

You shake your head, no you don't want that.

"What part of I'm fucking obsessed with you, don't you get?" You breathily ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Joel smiles, basking in your forgiveness. Here you were, finally standing in front of him, your feelings laid bare to each other. It's a small step, just letting your fears of the past go yet you feel infinitely lighter now, wrapped up in him.

Your hands fiddle with the buttons on his shirt and curl into the soft fabric. You suddenly feel unbearably hot but you get it now, why love drove so many people mad. Joel's soft gaze on you had your chest buzzing with and excitement you couldn't quite name.

"You wanna go back to your house?" You ask hopefully

"You mean our house?"

"Right, our house." You softly correct yourself

Joel gives you a nod and a smile, Course I do, darlin' lead the way."

You and Joel nearly faceplant three times as the two of you fumble your way up the steps to your shared bedroom. Joel catches you after you stumble over a pair of his discarded jeans from earlier.

"I'll clean that up," Joel says apologetically, kicking them to the side.

"Later." You breathe as his lips tickle the soft skin on your neck

"Later." He parrots with a smile into your skin

You let yourself fall onto the bed, welcoming it's softness and the way it smells of Joel. Before you can miss him, he's hovering over you, stealing kisses from your lips and letting his hands begin to wander across your form.

"Fuck..." Joel sighs as his hands squeeze at your chest.

"You alright up there?" You tease, he sounds so utterly wrecked and you've barely begun.

Joel gives you a playful glare, "You don't fucking know how long I've been waiting to feel these, baby. Been thinking about it since we went to that Macy's."

"My bra shopping got you going, huh?" You tease

Joel grumbles in annoyance and presses a kiss to the skin of your collarbone,

"You're real mean, y'know that."

"You poor baby," You laugh, throwing his nickname back at him, "You'll be alright."

You want to tease him some more, he's so easy to make fun of like this. Your words die in your throat when Joel presses his knee against your core through your dress.

"Not laughing anymore," Joel notes as he fixes his attention on your neck, his hands pulling your cardigan off your body.

Your hands undo the buttons of the shirt he's been teasing you with all night, and you push it off his broad shoulders. Finally, at long last, his torso is all yours to admire.

"Quit staring." Joel orders, "Nothin' there to admire."

"I beg to differ." You smile

Joel scoffs as he leans down to let his lips capture yours as hands roam up your back, searching for the zipper to your dress. Your resolve loosens as your hands curl against the soft skin of his chest, fuck you were really going to do this.

The loud hiss of your still zipped dress as you break the kiss, your eyes begin to swim with fear. That's right, sex with Joel also meant being naked with Joel.

"You want me to stop?" Joel asks, freezing

"No, I don't." You honestly say, "I just..."

"Take your time," Joel says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, and then to your cheek

Your breaths come out shaky as you speak again, "Just scared you won't like what you see. I don't look like I used to."

"Are you fucking with me?" Joel laughs

"No." You groan, thinking of how your scars ruined your skin, and how age had filled your curves out.

"Baby, you could be neon green under this dress, and I wouldn't care." He presses a kiss to your cheek, "l love your scars, I promise."

Your face warms in embarrassment, how did he say stuff like that so easily, "You haven't even seen them yet."

"Don't gotta," Joel promises, "They're a part of you, I know I'll love them."

It isn't much just a simple sentence, but that's all it takes for fear to be banished from your mind as you smile up at him.

"Take my dress off, Joel." You say

"Yes, ma'am." Joel teases as his fingers find the zipper once more.

Joel pulled your dress from you, delighting to see that you'd forgone a bra with said dress. His hands ran over the raised pink lines and gently caressed your hips and soft belly.

"Even prettier than the last time I saw ya." He assures

Your clothes disappeared onto the floor as Joel disappeared from above you, only to reappear between your thighs, kneeling in front of you. One big hand snuck between your legs as he teased you through your panties. His fucking mouth locked onto the skin of your thighs whispering dirty things into the skin there.

Bold as ever, he slipped his hand under your panties and let his thumb brush over your sensitive clit while two fingers slipped lower and teased your hole.

"Fucking soaked." Joel comments as you blush, "Can I take these off?"

You nod, eager to get out of the suffocating underwear.

Without the restriction of clothing, he was able to latch his mouth to your needy clit. His fingers teased your slit as he ran them along the soft flesh there, teasing but never entering.

"Joel..." You gasp, your hand wrapping around his wrist, unsure if you want him to stop or keep going.

"All mine." He whispers as you cry out, your orgasm washing over you quicker than you expected, your hips nearly flying off the bed. It'd been so long since you felt pleasure like this.

Joel straightens up and rejoins you on the bed, lying beside you as he runs a hand across the scars on your belly, murmuring something about them being beautiful.

"Can we keep going?" You ask breathlessly, looking over at his handsome face

"Course we can." He smiles, sitting back up

You hum in delight as his hips lift and he pulls his pants off, finally exposing the rest of his body to your greedy eyes. The softness of it all, god you fucking loved him.

Joel shook his head a bit as you pulled his boxers down, letting his cock out, "Greedy."

"Can you blame me?" You giggle

The hiss he let out when you ran your fingertips along the head had you dizzy with lust. Joel repositions so he's above you and his lips ghost over your nipples, teasing them with his tongue as he lifts you up so he's notched at your entrance.

"Wait." You say as he pauses above you

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, concerned, his eyes never leave yours

"I just, um," God, this was embarrassing, but he had a right to know, "Dr. Hill did an exam on me a few years back. Said I have a lot of scar tissue inside, so don't be upset if I can't y'know...cum."

"We'll go slow, alright. If it hurts or something is off, you tell me and I stop, okay?" His voice laced with concern

You nod and grip at his forearms, grounding yourself to him.

"Words, baby. Let me hear 'em," Joel says softly, refusing to move without your permission

"I wanna keep going." You say honestly

A gasp escapes your lips when he enters you. He was big, you knew it, you had seen it just seconds ago, yet it still surprised you as he pushed forward, just barely inside

"Fuck..." Joel gasped above you, his hands gripping the pillows beside you

You grimace when he shifts again, pushing more of him into you. Fuck, the doc told you this would hurt, but this bad?

"Need me to stop?" Joel asks worriedly when he sees your face

That's the last fucking thing you want.

"Keep going." You say, determined to see this through.

Joel looks at you, concerned yet he inches forward, letting out ba soft groan under his breath.

Slowly but surely you get there, letting him inside as pain slowly becomes pleasure. His fingers toy with your clit as you squirm under him. What he does next though, it has you nearly passing out from how hot it is. Joel fucking Miller leans down just a bit and actually spits on his cock.

"You're insane." You comment

"You love it," Joel says, stealing your lips in a kiss that's nothing but spit and teeth.

Joel begins to move, soft and slow at first before you demand more from him. You moan as you feel yourself growing even wetter, between his spit and your own arousal, it's actually begun to feel really fucking good.

Joel's hips slam into yours as he finally gives in to your begging for faster and harder.

"This what you want, huh? Is it?" He asks, leaning down to your ear, pressing your thighs up towards your chest a bit.

"Yes!" You yelp when his hand smacks at your inner thigh

"Such a good fucking girl..." Joel mutters as his hips begin to stutter when you tighten around him

"Joel!" You warn, fuck your stomach feels tight, no way is he actually going to get you to cum.

His hips backward, and your jaw drops into a silent moan as he enters again, this time with his thumb teasing your clit.

"C'mon, let go." Joel coerces, "Know you wanna."

You groaned as your orgasm rolled over you, your eyes slammed shut as Joel sucked a hickey onto your chest.

"Fucking hell!" He gasped, freeing himself from you before cumming all over your tummy.

Joel presses a kiss to your damp forehead before dropping himself onto the mattress beside you. Your heart squeezes when he scooches towards you, resting his sweaty head in the valley between your breasts.

"You okay?" You ask softly

"Am I okay?" Joel laughs into your skin, "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." You smile, running a hand through his greying curls atop his head.

Joel lets out a soft hum and presses a kiss to one of your nipples,

"Hungry? Thirsty? Sore?" He asks, apparently ready to provide a world of aftercare despite looking exhausted himself

You wiggle your hips a bit, testing the waters. A twinge of pain shoots through your belly, and you grimace. It had felt so good, yet your body was punishing you anyway.

"Sore." You softly admit, kissing his head, "And kinda sticky."

You motion to the cum that is drying on your body

Joel shifts so he can get a better look at you, examining the way your face is pinched together as your thighs shift again before looking down at your dirty skin.

"I'll run us a bath. " He offers, "Get us some food while I'm at it too."

You nod as he disappears, naked as the day he was born, to run you a bath and get food.

You snort when he returns, clad in your bathrobe you had hung up in the bathroom on your hook, he wipes at your stomach with a warm wash cloth.

"I look good, no?" He asks gesturing to his body

"It's up for debate." You laugh

Joel scoops you up, bridal style, and walks towards the bathroom, "Well, I happen to think I look fabulous."

The bath is perfectly warm, even smelling like the lavender bath fizzes you keep for special occasions. Joel lowers you into the tub before turning to sit on the closed toilet, a plate with crackers and cheese balanced in his hands

"Get your ass in here." You say before he has a chance to sit down fully

"You sure?" Joel asks

"You just fucked me for the first time in two decades and now you're asking to take a bath with me?" You say

Joel sets the food on the edge of the rub, unties the robe, and climbs in. He fidgets nervously as you lean back into his chest.

"You nervous, Miller?" You ask, feeling the way his breath stutters a bit.

"We've never done this before." He points out, "Not even back then."

You hum in acknowledgment, "Lucky you, I guess."

Joel laughs a bit as he links his arms securely around your middle, hands brushing the underside of your breasts, "Lucky me, indeed."

"Would you leave them alone?" You laugh as he squeezes the flesh

"Can't. " Joel mumbles, pressing a soft kiss on your neck, "I missed them."

"Pervert." You say softly

You and Joel sit in the bath til it goes tepid, feeding each other crackers and cheese, and basking in each other's company. Then, he coaxes you to your feet and washes both of you under the steam of the shower.

Now, you were wrapped around him in bed, listening to the crickets chirp. Your eyes are beginning to droop when he speaks,

"I'm sorry," Joel says

"I'm not hurting that much, Joel." You say sleepily into his bare chest.

"No not that. Well, yes that. But I'm sorry for dumpin' ya before the world ended."

You hum, "Mmm. It's alright, I forgive you, remember?

"I know, I just..."

"I forgive you." You softly say, scooting closer to him

Joel presses a kiss to your forehead, "You're too good to me. I'm an ass, I know that."

Joel yelps when you pinch his side.

"Glad you're self-aware." You laugh

"I got real scared back then. Thought I was fucking your life up by sticking around." He admits

"Right, cuz dating a 35-year-old at 24 was the worst thing to ever happen to me" You joke

"No!" Joel protests, "You know what I mean."

You nod, you do know what he means.

"Don't have to be scared anymore." You say quietly

Joel hums and chuckles a bit, rubbing a soothing circle into your back as you lay here with him under the covers.

"No, I don't. You're all mine." He declares

You shift a bit, shuffling so you can look him in the eyes, and press a kiss to his lips. Your voice comes out confidently, as you say something you've wanted to say for so long now,

"Yours."

Here we are...at the end. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am very busy right now, but I may write more for these two later.

Thank you all for reading and following this story as it progressed. If you'd like, leave me some comments with feedback!

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[muffinlance]

Oh so how about Scaled Herbalist!Zuko?

Miyuki sometimes carries Zuko/Spirit around like a kitten when they're still small.

It's slightly annoying when they steal her favorite sun spot. But they caught a mouse for her as an apology.

The soldiers that come to the herbalist are very concerned about the new pet, that reacts to the same name as her kid that keeps disappearing for some reason.

I hope this makes sense. Sorry for any mistakes.

"I told you," the tiny talking lizard says, "I'm a Spirit."

"Uh," says the Fire Nation solider whose chest is under his teenie-tiny claws.

"Now," it says, and it's impressive how much menace it can exude with the slow cattish undulations of its tail, or the way its little fluffy mane starts standing up hair by hair, "are you going to let me change your bandages, or will I need to burn out an infection?"

Its teeth are like needles and the soldier has a very good view of them. Its breath is very very warm and smells not unlike a coal fire.

"...Could you have opposable thumbs, first?" the man asks.

"Miyuki says thumbs are for the weak."

Teeth and claws approach the his face. The soldier whimpers, as eight ounces of baby dragon start methodically mauling his bandages off.

[antifainternational]

Tips for first-time protesters?

So many tips!

Before The Action: -Watch social media for announcements about the action or any last-minute changes to the plans for the action (like start times, rally points, etc). Be sure that the information you’re seeing is coming from a trusted source.-Probably a good idea to tell someone you know who’s not going what your plans are for getting there and what time you expect to be back. Maybe set up a time to call them to check-in. That way if you don’t call, they’ll know that something’s up. -Check the laws in your area around police powers to detain and arrest people. Find out what information you are legally obligated to provide the police and under what circumstance. Do you have to identify yourself if asked to by police? Do you have to show ID if asked to by police? Do the police have the power to detain you without charge? The answers vary depending on the country or region you’re in - best to find out what your rights are in advance! -Try to get a good night’s rest before the action and arrive sober and not hungover - you’ll need a clear head to make fast decisions on the go!-Try to go with someone else or, better still, a few other people that you know and trust (e.g. an affinity group). That way you can have each other’s backs and bolster attendance numbers too! If that’s not possible, you could try to make contact with a local antifa group and see if they’d be willing to let you join them in arriving at the action. 

-If you are going it alone, that’s totally fine, too! You can probably expect other anti-fascists at the protest to be a little bit wary with you at first (due to the tendency of plainclothes police to infiltrate and try to provoke shit), but that’s not a big deal. The worst thing that might happen is that you’ll feel uncomfortable and leave early, but we bet it’s much more likely that you’ll be making some new friends!What To Bring: -Having some kind of official/government ID with you might mean that the cops don’t have an excuse to hold you even longer while they identify you.  But this doesn’t always apply or make sense (e.g. for actions where delaying the cops by not revealing identities is part of the tactics). Many antifascists advise against bringing ID with you - it really depends on the region you’re in.  

-Cash money - avoid bank card/debit card/credit cards

-Public transit tokens -it’s probably a good idea to bring some N-95 masks for health reasons alone, but concealing your identity is also very generally a good practice (provided you’ve checked local laws about wearing masks at protests beforehand!)

- Wear comfortable shoes. You’re going to be standing for a long time. And possibly doing some sprinting! Dress accordingly! -Wear clothing appropriate for the time of year and season for being outdoors for several hours, just in case.

- Bring water, shouting at nazis is thirsty work

-write down the phone number for legal support in case of arrest.  -a change of clothes can help disrupt intelligence gathering by the opposition or police and also make you less conspicuous. For example, one member of our crew likes to bring a small backpack containing a different-coloured jacket, a hat, some sunglasses, and a tote bag big enough to fit everything in (including the backpack) and has been known to quickly duck into an alley or public washroom and switch jackets, put on the hat & sunglasses, stuff the backpack into the tote bag, and emerge looking like a completely different person! This has been a handy tactic when leaving a black bloc-style action to do recon of the opposition, for example.

What NOT To Bring:

-We’d recommend not bringing your phone or shelling out a few bucks to bring a burner phone that you’ve taken precautions to not connect to your person.  That phone shouldn’t have contacts listed under real names, etc.  If you do bring a phone keep it on lock - we know of cases where the cops or the fash got a hold of someone’s phone that wasn’t locked and then had all their contacts, photos, text & voice messages, access to their social media accounts, etc.  Not good!  Also remember that the cops could be using technology to intercept calls & texts.  Basically, never communicate anything on a phone that you wouldn’t say in public. 

-Don’t bring drugs or alcohol for what we hope are obvious reasons.

-Wearing identifiable clothing (i.e. with distinct logos, patches, patterns, colours, etc.) is not a good idea. Try to blend in with what others are wearing (that’s typically an all-black ensemble). Of course, having a change of clothes into something that doesn’t look like protest wear is probably a smart move (see above).  At The Action: -If you didn’t organize the protest or are traveling to another area to attend it, it’s good etiquette to follow the lead of the organizers and not start shit that they’ll have to answer for after it’s said and done and you’ve left. -stick together - try to stay with the group during the action and not get cut off from them. -It’s not really ever a good idea to take photos of your side/the good guys at actions although there should be obvious reasons why you might want photos/video of the bad guys.  Certainly never take pics of undisguised folks on your side without permission and certainly never post them publicly on social media, etc. You should try to avoid getting photographed if at all possible. -if police are there, use the STFU strategy. Shut The Fuck Up. Do not speak with them. If they ask you a question, “no comment” or “I don’t answer questions” suffices (providing your local laws allow this - be sure you’ve checked beforehand!).  -as a general rule, use common sense and pay attention to the situation at hand and let that determine what you do/don’t do.  Final tip: don’t over-worry yourself here - for sure make some common-sense preparations before you go but make sure you go! After The Action -make sure you’re safe to leave the action. This might mean traveling with others along a route you pre-planned. Or it might mean arriving at a pre-planned rally point afterwards to make sure everyone’s OK. Watch for people you don’t know following you. It might be a good idea to not travel directly home, but instead go to a public space or a few public spaces first. GOOD LUCK/LET US KNOW HOW IT GOES!

[watchmegetobsessed]

LITTLE NERDY VALENTINE

A/N: one day late, but here's a bit of valentine's day cuteness with fratry bc i've been thinking a lot about him lately

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

SUMMARY: Harry wants to celebrate Valentine's Day, but you're not a fan of his plans of going out and you have your reasons for that, but talking about them is not easy, so it causes some frustration.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So, what do you want to do on Friday?” 

Harry is lying on your bed with a textbook lying open over his chest, but he hasn’t read a single word of it in the last hour, he’s been too busy playing on his phone while you were sitting at your desk, working on a paper that’s due next week. He came over to study, but you both knew you’d be doing all the studying, you actually have no idea how Harry has good grades. 

“Friday? What’s on Friday?” you hum, still typing away on your computer, pretending to be oblivious.

“You know…” He draws out the words, sitting up so his back is against the wall. He puts the textbook aside, closing it, done pretending he is actually reading any of it. 

“Hm?” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel Harry’s burning eyes on your back. 

“Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day,” he chuckles, giving up the game. “We are having a Cupid’s Party at the frat house, but if you want to go out, maybe have dinner or something I’m down.”

“Uh, I don’t know…” 

“Or we can go to the movies, I’m willing to watch that new romcom with you, if you want.”

“Harry…” Sighing you give up and finally turn with your chair to look at him, but you wish you didn’t because he is giving you those puppy eyes he knows you can’t resist and he is hugging your pink fluffy pillow like a little kid. 

“Y/N?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out.”

You catch the tiny wince that twitches his lips, but he recovers quickly. You were really hoping you could avoid this conversation today, though part of you knew it would come up, since it’s Wednesday, only 2 days until Valentine’s Day. 

His eyes jump down at the pillow as he starts fumbling with it, like a hurt kid who just got told no. 

“Harry…”

“Are we ever gonna leave this room and act like a real couple?” 

“Don’t start this again, please…”

“I just understand, Y/N,” he groans as he looks up at you again. “We’ve been together for over two months and I haven’t even held your hand in public.”

“That’s not true, you held my hand when–”

“When we were hiking in the middle of the woods so no one could see us. Yeah, you’re right,” he scoffs. 

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, looking down at your lap as the guilt bubbles in your gut. 

“Actually, we haven’t. You just keep telling me you need more time, but never really explain why or what bothers you. I’m trying to be patient, but I really want to take our relationship out of this tiny dorm room.” He gestures around your room where you spend the majority of your time together with him. 

Chewing on your bottom lip you just keep picking on your chipped nail polish, not looking at him, but then he climbs to the edge of the bed so he is sitting right in front of you. He lifts your chin gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I’m more than happy to wait for you, but I need to know a bit more.” He places a hand to your thigh, reassuringly rubbing it as he waits for you to say something. 

“I’m just… I don’t know, I like that it’s just the two of us.”

“Bullshit. It would still be just us.”

Ugh, you hate how well he knows you, you can’t lie to him, but you’re not willing to tell him the truth either. 

“Can we just not talk about this right now? I really need to finish this pa–”

“Y/N, stop avoiding this, please. You know you can tell me anything.”

He is looking at you, waiting and expecting, but you just can’t give him what he wants. His gaze keeps flickering between your eyes, hoping you’d finally open up, but you keep your mouth shut. And then he loses his patience.

“Alright then,” he whispers, jumping up to gather his things, showing everything into his backpack.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him tug the zipper angrily before swinging the bag over one shoulder. 

“I can’t do this, Y/N. I don’t want to hide and not even know why. You wouldn’t tell me what bothers you, so I have to draw my own conclusions and want to know what all of this seems like to me? Like you don’t want to be seen with me, like you’re ashamed of being with me.”

“Harry, that’s not true,” you protest, standing from your chair. 

“Then what is it?”

You open your mouth, but your voice dies in your throat. Unfortunately, Harry takes that as your answer. 

“Okay. Call me when you’re willing to talk.”

And with that, he is out of the room. 

A couples’ party might not have been the best place to be today for Harry, but the thought of easing his mind with a few rounds of beerpong was good enough to make him leave his room and join the party. 

Cupid’s Party usually has two groups of people: the happy couples, attached by the hip, eating each other’s face off and the single people getting wasted, hoping to at least hook up with someone. Currently Harry doesn’t feel like he belongs to any of these groups.

He assesses the living room over the rim of his red solo cup and tries his best to ignore the pain in his chest at the sight of all the happy couples in matching outfits, celebrating their love. In the beginning of the week he was still hoping he and you might be one of them, but things didn’t turn out to be the way he planned. 

After the fight in your room you texted him, asking him to come back, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be doing that unless you’re willing to talk.

Which you werent, so it’s been radio silence since then. 

He had to stop himself from texting or calling you like a million times, it’s been quite the fight since Wednesday, he’s been missing you like crazy, but he is also determined to finally move forward. 

“You alright man?” Niall pats him on the back with a cup in his own hand that smells so much of alcohol that Harry can’t stop himself from wrinkling his nose. While he likes to have drinks, he is often surprised how some of his friends in the house haven’t died of alcohol poisoning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nods with a sigh. 

“Uhuh, that’s why you’ve been moping around for days, right?” Niall laughs.

“I have not–”

“I have not been moping, you arse!” Niall mocks him, which he finds hilarious, but Harry just rolls his eyes and takes a swig from your drink. “Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push it, but if you feel like you need a shoulder, you can come to me.”

“I know,” Harry sighs. “Thanks, I’ll just get a refill for now,” he says, holding up his cup. Niall nods and they go their separate way.

Harry fights through the crowd towards the kitchen and tries his best not to get stopped by drunk girls that are more than eager to hook up with him tonight. He would love to tell them he is taken, but he can’t. Even despite the fight you had, he still doesn’t want to go against your will and tell everyone that you’re dating. 

The kitchen is a mess, but he quickly finds the tequila and then mixes it with some pineapple juice, then he stops by the pizza and grabs a slice so his stomach wouldn’t be completely empty. Though his original plan was to get drunk, but now he is not feeling that, so this is probably his last drink, since he is starting to feel a bit dizzy. 

Leaning against the counter he is debating if he should just go back to his room and spend the rest of the night playing video games, but then he spots an all too familiar face in the crowd outside in the hallway. 

You look very uncomfortable, navigating between the half drunk people while looking like you’re searching for someone. Harry puts his pizza slice down right away and he just starts moving towards you when he sees a guy bumping into you, making your shoulder hit the wall.

“Ah, sorry sweetheart, you alright?” the guy asks and his hand is already on your arm, leaning way closer than you’d like him to.

“It’s okay Dave, I got her.” Harry pats him on the back in a friendly manner, though inside he is fuming at the way he is looking at you right now, like he is ready to peel you out of your clothes. 

“Harry, hey! I was just–”

“I know, I got her,” Harry repeats, this time with a tougher look at the guy, which he finally notices so he just nods and wanders away. “Are you okay?” he asks, finally looking at you, keeping one hand on your elbow.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” you ask and Harry nods right away, moving his hand to the small of your back, guiding you upstairs, towards his room. 

You’ve been to his frat house, you actually met him at a party here, but you’ve never been to his room. If the other boys saw you coming and going from his room it would have been quite obvious there’s something going on between the two of you, so you usually stayed at your dorm room where it was easier for Harry to sneak out without being noticed, that place is too big for anyone to notice him.

The hallway leading to his room is scattered with couples making out by the wall and you try not to stare at the pair that’s practically dry humping each other like they are in a private place. 

Harry unlocks his door with his keycard and then ushers you inside, finally shutting the noises of the party out. You’re curiously looking around the room that’s a lot tidier than you expected. Aside from a few clothes lying in the corner and two unwashed mugs on his night stand, it’s pretty neat. On his desk you notice the book you gifted him a week ago. You pick it up and open it where the bookmark is at around the third of the book and then you realize the bookmark is a polaroid of the two of you. It was taken the first time he slept in your room, your faces are mushed together as you laugh at something. You remember him taking a picture, but you weren’t expecting him to use it as his bookmark, which is such a sweet thing. 

He has been nothing but sweet to you and that just makes your guilt even worse for treating him the way you did. 

When you turn around you find him watching you with his hands in his pockets, just patiently waiting for you to start talking. 

“I’m sorry for making you feel like I’m ashamed of you. That was never the case and… yeah, I’m just really sorry.”

Harry nods, but then just keeps looking at you and you know he wants you to continue. So taking a deep breath you force yourself to keep talking before you chicken out. 

“I was actually thinking it was the other way around.”

That confuses him, he frowns but before he could ask anything you just continue.

“We are not really from the same crowd. You’re… You live in a frat house, you play football, people know you around campus while I’m more like just… a face in the crowd. I know it’s such a cliché, but I felt like that if people saw us together they would question why you’d go out with me a-and–Um… I just…”

“And you thought that I would also question why I’m with you?” he finishes what you couldn’t and you just nod, feeling your throat closing up. It’s been such a heavy weight on your chest the past weeks and now that you said it out loud it’s a relief but you’re also worried how Harry will think of you now. 

Then his eyes soften and stepping closer he gathers your hands between his palms, holding them to his chest. 

“Y/N, you realize this is not a movie where there are popular kids and nerds and they never talk?” he asks with a soft chuckle, making you laugh. 

“I know. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s just been haunting me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you repeat. “Deep down I knew it, but I just couldn’t help it. I thought that I could get rid of it with time, but I couldn’t and I swear I didn’t want to hurt you with all of this, it’s just that I can easily get into these… spirals and it’s so hard to get out of them.”

“I know,” he softly says and leaning closer he kisses your forehead. “I just wish you told me so I could help you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.”

Letting go of your hands he cups your cheeks in his palms as he pulls you in for a kiss while your hands fist the fabric of his shirt at his waist. He is sweet and gentle, his lips reassuring you that he is right here, with you. He rests his forehead against yours, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. 

“By the way, did you just call me a nerd?” you ask, opening your eyes, making Harry laugh with your words.

“Do you not fit the nerdy stereotype of romcoms?” he challenges you with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, I do study a lot and spend every other afternoon in the library.”

“See? You’re my little nerdy Valentine,” he arches an eyebrow and you just roll your eyes at him, but can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. Then slowly, his expression turns more serious. “So what would you like to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a sigh.

“Listen. If you need more time… I’m okay with that. I want you to feel comfortable and if that means that I have to convince you that no one will point fingers at us if they see us together, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You’ve known it from the beginning, but Harry just keeps proving that he is the right person for you and you couldn’t be more thankful for him. 

Leaning in you kiss him shortly. “I want to move forward, I’m just a bit scared.”

“Then you’ll lead us in whatever pace feels comfortable for you, okay?”

You nod and he kisses you again. 

“Do you want to go back down?” he asks, nodding towards the door. 

“Yeah, I would like that.”

Walking out of his room he locks the door and the two of you head back down and you notice that he is still keeping his distance from you, not trying to change everything all of a sudden. Returning to the kitchen he makes you a drink and he grabs another slice of pizza when Niall emerges from the crowd. 

“Hey, you’re still here! Thought you’d lock yourself up in your room soon,” he chuckles seeing Harry.

“You thought I’d bail?” Harry grins, leaning against the counter. Niall’s eyes move over to you.

“I think we haven’t met yet. I’m Niall.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. You catch a look the two boys exchange and after that, Niall just smiles at Harry knowingly.

“Alright, I’ll be by the beerpong tables if you need me,” he waves before making his way out of the kitchen. 

“You have a bit of sauce there,” you point at Harry’s mouth smiling.

“Hm? Here?” he asks, wiping his lips, but he completely misses the spot, making you laugh. “Where?” he grins.

“Right there…” You raise a hand to help him out, but it stops midway when a thought pops into your mind and before you could talk yourself out of it, you lean in and kiss his lips. 

“Now you’re good,” you smile against his lips. Harry can’t contain his growing grin, because this was the first time you kissed him in front of other people. 

“I think it’s still there.”

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle at him.

“Yeah, all over my lips, everywhere.”

“Stop,” you roll your eyes at him laughing. He leans down and kisses you shortly before he continues eating his pizza, trying his best not to comment it when your hand sneaks into free hand, fingers lacing together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[strawberriesoup]

don’t come crying₊˚⊹♡

♡ genre: minho x reader, oneshot, friends to lovers, angst, fluff

♡ warnings: swearing, kissing, heartbreak

♡ wc: 2.7k

♡ a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAYY here’s a quick, bite-sized minho oneshot that i somehow wrote yesterday and today. it’s not proofread in any way so good luck reading (JK I HOPE YOU ENJOYY)

if you make it all the way through, please leave some feedback! i always love to hear other people’s thoughts!! your feedback is what keeps me writing stories like these <33

♡ taglist: @jisunggy @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools @chancloud8 @hannieslittlerockstar @vixensss @skzpvol @gxtwllsn @yinzgarden @kayleefriedchicken @nightmarenyxx @dwesion

if you would like to be added to my series taglist or my general taglist, send me a comment or an ask! <3

―୨♡୧―

Objectively speaking, Minho is an asshole.

Said asshole is currently sprawled over your couch, eating your cookies, and he has the nerve to berate you about who you chose to go out with on Valentine's Day? He’s insufferable.

Your eye twitches as Minho scornfully regards the picture of your date— which you had only sent him after he had nagged you nonstop for ten minutes— pointing out that his hair color didn’t quite suit him, and also that he should probably shave more often.

Having had quite enough, you snatch the phone from his grasp, earning yourself a loud “Hey!” of protest. Shutting the screen off, you toss it on the ground and cross your arms, glaring at his form on the couch next to you. If you were a jerk like Minho, you definitely would have smacked him by now. But, since you’re not, you press your mouth into a straight line and blink widely at him.

“You done?” You ask thinly.

Minho stretches before responding, whole body quivering with the effort.

“No, but I suppose I should shut up now if I want any more of those cookies,” He examines a nail with apparent disintrest.

“Good choice,” It takes everything in you to not wipe that goddamn expression off his face. He just looks so… ugh. You can’t even look at him right now. The sight of his face incites a type of rage in you that should probably be studied. “Why do you care so much anyways, huh? It’s not like your date is any better,” then you gasp, tapping the side of your head in mock remembrance, “Oh, wait, that’s right! You don’t have a date, do you?”

The roll of his eyes and curl of his lip give you your answer before he can even speak.

“That’s what I thought. Now you can shut up and eat the fucking cookie,” You snap, pushing yourself up from the couch. Minho’s voice trails after you as you storm off to your room.

“Just don’t come crying to me when he stands you up tomorrow!”

Your door slams shut before you have to hear another word from his mouth.

This is dumb. He’s a perfectly fine guy! Minho’s just being overdramatic for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Have you been wrong about guys before? Yes. Has Minho been right the majority of the time? Also yes. But that doesn’t mean he’s right this time.

You sigh dreamily just thinking about it. Just last week, he had asked you to be his valentine with a huge bouquet of crimson roses and box of chocolates. Call it childish, but you have been absolutely giddy ever since. The world seems three shades brighter, and you walk with an extra skip in your step. That is, until a certain someone had to go and open his big, opinionated, mouth.

His words circle in your mind, but you shake your head quickly to clear it. Minho’s probably just in a foul mood because you have a date and he doesn’t. Why he’s taking it out on you though is beyond you, but you try not to take it to heart too much.

You have a good feeling about this one. You just know it will go well tomorrow, and you can’t wait to rub your success in Minho’s smug face.

જ⁀➴

You have a bad feeling about this.

Your date-to-be is sitting across from you, leaning back and listening to you talk. You two had decided to touch base at a cafe before tomorrow, just to go over plans. As you are reviewing the meetup time, you swear you can sense a hint of annoyance in the curve of his lip. His knee taps up and down, as if impatient. No, that can’t be right. Minho’s words had just gotten to you, that’s all. Nevertheless, your stomach sinks a bit as your date finishes off his coffee and stands up.

“Yup, sounds good.” He tosses his empty cup in the trash, “I gotta go, but i’ll see you tomorrow,”

Without so much as a wave goodbye, you watch him head out. The door announces his departure with a pleaseant ring.

There you sit, half-finished latte in hand. He didn’t even offer to pay.

You hate to admit it, but Minho might be right. You don’t understand. What did you do wrong? Did you come off as too eager? Minho does always tell you that you’re too clingy, you guess. But it just doesn’t make sense, you had seen your date just the other day and he was all smiles, holding your hand as you walked and wrapping his jacket around your shoulders when you shivered. You must have done something wrong for him to be acting like this, there’s no other explanation. Unless he’s just had a particularly bad day.

You nod as you push out your chair and stand. That might just be it. Still, Minho’s words of warning run rampant in your mind, despite your efforts to push them to the back of your mind.

Everything will be fine, Minho’s just a hater.

જ⁀➴

Just because he’s not here yet doesn’t mean he’s not showing up.

This morning you had put on the cute little dress you had planned with a hum on your lips, a good nights sleep having managed to put some pep back into your step. When you had finished touching up your hair, you were not at all surprised to find Minho spread across your couch, watching a show and eating a bowl of cereal like he owned the place. You’re quite used to it at this point, he doesn’t know how to stay at his own house for the life of him. No words were exchanged, Minho merely glancing in your direction in greeting before returning his attention to the show.

Good. You like him better when that big mouth of his is shut.

You tap a heel nervously, the inside of your cheeks sore and raw from how much you had been chewing on them. How long has it been now? Half an hour? It might even be more, it feels like you have been standing beside this bus stop for ages. Countlesss couples had passed by, fingers intertwined as they tuck their partners hair behind their ear, or stifling giggles as whispered jokes are exchanged.

He’s not coming, is he?

Of course he’s not, you were a fool for thinking he would. Your unanswered text stares up at you, the read receipt sitting gut-droppingly below it. Hot tears prick at your eyes as you hunch your shoulders into yourself. What do you even do now? Just… go home?

Your feet move on their own, carrying you in the direction you came. When you started running, you’re not sure, but the chilly breeze stings your flushed face as you push your way through the busy sidewalk.

You pull out your phone as you run, tapping on Minho’s contact. Your blurred vision makes it nearly impossible to type a sentence. A simple, ‘you were right’ is all it reads.

Sent.

જ⁀➴

Minho had graciously not blessed you with his presence when you stumble through your front door, cheeks stained with tears and nose running. You don’t even know if he read the message, but you’re sure once he does, he’s going to be a smug little shit about it, as per usual.

It’s all you can do to not hurl yourself onto your bed and just sleep for the next three days. Maybe you’ll wake up and this will all be some bad dream.

Your disheveled appearance in the mirror stares back at you dully, assuring you that this is not a dream, and you did indeed just get stood up on Valentine's Day.

The cold of the mirror chills your hand as you lean forward on it, breaking eye contact with yourself. Your mind still can’t comprehend it. Why? Why are you always second best? Every single time you open your stitched up heart up to someone, they rip out the seams and leave you with the pieces. Frustrated tears sear behind your eyes, but you purse your lips and shove them back down. There’s no point in crying.

A single knock. Your front door opens before you can take a breath to answer it. Only one person would be so bold as to enter your place without so much as waiting for a response. The one and only, Lee fucking Minho.

You can hear him shuffling around the front door, most likely kicking off his shoes. There is absolutely no way you are going out to greet him, he’s only here to rub it in your face that he was right the whole time. And while yes, that is in fact true, it’s really the last thing you need to be hearing right now. Your fist unintentionally curls in on itself as you hear his footsteps approaching your door.

You cross from your mirror to your bed, flopping down and burying your face in the pillow. Maybe it will block out his voice when he comes in and starts yapping.

A long moment passes. You don’t hear his movements anymore. Then, softly, three knocks sound against the wood of your door.

You decidedly do not answer. He really can’t take a hint, huh?

Instead of opening the door immediately like usual, Minho waits a moment before knocking again. The knocks are just as soft and careful as before. The switch in mannerisms has your eyebrows furrowed. What’s the matter with him?

“What do you want, Minho.” Your voice is muffled, face still stuffed in the pillow.

This time, your door opens. The soft padding of his footsteps cross your room, but you don’t raise your head. You’re not sure what keeps you hidden. Embarrassment? Anger? Both? Nevertheless, you won’t be showing your face anytime soon.

The edge of your bed dips as he sits on the edge of it, not a word uttered. Yet. You tense as he takes a breath in, preparing your heart and mind for whatever he’s going to spew at you.

And yet, no such thing happens. A hand lightly sets itself on your shoulder, making you jump slightly in surprise. As he draws his hand soothingly across your back, your shoulders drop and you let out a shaky sigh.

When you finally gather the courage to look up at him, you find his gaze fixed on his lap. There, he holds a small handful of assorted wildflowers. You look from Minho, to the flowers, then back to him. Since when were his lashes this… pretty?

“It hurts, you know.”

His voice, nearly a whisper, cuts through the silence. He keeps his eyes locked on the flowers as he fiddles with one of the petals.

“Seeing you give some loser a chance,” he continues, “And you get hurt. Every. Time.” He searches your face, that little wrinkle between his eyebrows visible. “When are you going to decide you’ve had enough?”

You’re trapped in those big brown eyes of his, filled with a mixture of concern and genuine confusion. Despite his efforts to be the biggest nuisance in your life, he cares about you, even if he rarely shows it.

At your lack of response, Minho sighs and drops his hand from your shoulder, bringing it to his little bouquet of flowers. His little bouquet that suspiciously resembles the flowers planted outside of your building, along the sidewalk.

You flip over, facing the ceiling. It’s easier than facing him.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I just… I just want to be loved, y’know? Every single time, I think: ‘this one’s different’,” You let out a rueful laugh, “guess you were right, huh, genius?” You prod him in the side with one finger.

Not even a witty retort falls from Minho’s lips. In favor of an answer, he offers to you the bunch of flowers.

You turn your head, watching as a pink petal flutters from the bouquet and lands gracefully on your sheets. Your eyes never leave his face as you reach out slowly and accept his gift.

A beat of silence falls as you bring the petals to your nose. The quiet is unusual. With Minho, the bickering is practically non-stop, a quick response always on the tip of both of your tongues. But now, only the quiet whistle of his breath fills the room.

“Is this..?” You tilt your head at him as you draw yourself into a seated position.

He blinks a couple times. You wonder if he’s ever asked anyone to be his valentine before.

“It’s- yeah.” He states simply, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Minho’s demeanor is somewhat relaxed, but the way he keeps twisting his ring to the tip of his finger and back gives tell to his nervousness. His lips are pursed a bit at the corners, his little dimples making an appearance.

This is a side of him you rarely see. In fact, he’s never acted this way before. His blunt quips replaced with a type of openness that seems foreign even to himself.

You know what. Fuck it.

Grabbing his chin, you draw close to him. His eyes widen and he freezes in place. You take in his features with a squint. The angle of his brow, the fullness of his lips, that little beauty mark at the end of his nose. Instead of making your stomach twist in annoyance, his face ignites a little flame in your chest. You’ve always known Minho as an attractive man, you’d have to be blind to think otherwise, but you’ve never seen him quite in this light.

This whole time, he’s been trying to protect you. In his own, strange, Minho way.

His throat bobs as he swallows, lips parting. The sight of his bunny teeth peeking from beneath his lip is the final straw. You close the distance, capturing his lips in a swift kiss.

The moment is brief, and you pull away just as quickly as you had leaned in, his chin still grasped between your fingers.

He blinks rapidly for a couple of seconds, a habit of his you’ve picked up.

You break into a smile at his reaction, giddy at finally having the upper hand.

“You know, you could at least— oof!” Halfway through your sentence, you are interrupted by Minho’s grip on your arm as he yanks you towards him.

He catches you as you fall backwards over his lap, his arm supporting your back. You’re at a loss for words, your mouth opening and closing dumbly a couple of times. Minho lets out a huff of laughter and rolls his eyes.

“You’re actually an idiot, hope you realize that,” he observes.

“Just kiss me, you asshole,”

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, you drag him down to you. You can feel him smile against your lips as he tightens his grip around you, one hand drifting through your hair while the other holds you steady.

This. It feels right. More right than any of those other guys had made you feel, despite their fancy gifts and extravagant shows of so-called ‘love’. Maybe the reason none of them had worked out was because deep down, you truly only want one person. And that person is here, holding you between his own two arms, quenching the thirst for him that you didn’t even realize you had until you tried a sip. His lips move in harmony with yours. He’s firm, but not desperate. Gentle, but confident. Your body melts under his every touch, until you can't imagine being anywhere else but here.

He pulls away first, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink that matches the flowers sitting forgotten on the mattress. He quirks an eyebrow wryly at you.

“So much for not coming crying,”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, “Excuse me? I did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“You’re such an ass, Lee Minho.”

જ⁀➴

[nonenosome2]

You are the densest person alive. Fucking hell. Elon Musk (apartheid prince of South Africa) is currently more powerful than Trump in the US. You want to see who's in charge, you follow the money. That leads you to Musk.

Yeah... I'm super dense because you first state that something is happening, then call it a hypothetical, then pretend you didn't do that.

Also, you mean Elon "the h1b visa program is a great thing" Musk? Or were you talking about someone else who thinks importing workers from other countries is a great thing?

I'm not arguing with just you. You have chosen to shack up the worlds stupidest and most intolerant cult. You can forgive me for arguing against the majority of you idiots instead of the your Enlightened Centrist Majesty.

Oh. So the reason you can't keep your facts straight, or make an argument that makes sense, is because you are trying to argue with a strawman you have invented.

Now it all makes sense.

They are fascist and following Hitler's footsteps to a tee. They're just doing it faster.

Please tell me what those footsteps are. Because so far the most hilarious one I saw was "He promised to fix the economy". Which covers every President since probably John Adams.

I'd love to see the other ways in which he is "following Hitler's footsteps."

If you defend a nazi, that makes you a nazi.

Really? Does defending a Democrat also make me a Democrat?

So read my arguments from the perspective of someone on your side and maybe you just might see what I mean.

What argument? You started the whole exchange by trying to beat up a strawman, then ignoring what I said.

Then again, if you were capable of empathizing you probably wouldn't be such a piece of shit.

OK.

I'm not gonna tell you that there are going to be death squads, but I'll tell you that ICE currently has the power to detain anyone and, at this point, send them to literal Gitmo with basically no oversight, so I'm not gonna dismiss the possibility. ICE are... Let's just say a little overzealous.

And? You think ICE is going to start snatching up LEGAL immigrants and shipping them to Gitmo?

And you say legal immigration is the answer, but Trump is trying to prevent basically all immigration into this country.

Is he? Or is he just forcing immigrants to enter legally and treating them as criminals if they don't?

If you were stuck between a gang war and the US border with your kids, I know for a FACT most people are going to cross the border. I'd come up with a scenario for you to imagine but I recall you are incabable of empathy.

You... You literally came up with a scenario in the previous sentence. Do you read what you write? Like, at all?

And onto your scenario. Yes. I would cross the border. That doesn't make what I did any less illegal. I don't know what this is supposed to prove.

This is all shit Trump has done in his first month in office.

What is? You literally haven't said what Trump has done in his first month, just stuff you think he might do.

There's 3 years and 11 months more (at least) of his term in office. If you think he's gonna stop with what he's done and NOT make things a million times worse, you weren't paying attention the first term.

WHAT HAS HE DONE?!? YOU NEVER SAID!?!

Good luck out there buddy. I'm done with you.

OK. Good bye.

Hope you got a workout punching and kicking that strawman.

Do you realize that all these ICE raids and deportation flights cost money?

Probably more than it would cost to just give every immigrant everything they need unconditionally so they can be the freeloaders that you accuse them of being?

[essycogany]

Sonic And Amy Are A Unique Couple

This is a quick Sonamy rant /ramble session. With a few added clarifications too. Enjoy!

This couple is more unique than you’d think. It’s cool if anyone disagrees. I'm all for a polite debate and respect your opinion. But if you're willing to hear me out, I'll be willing to explain myself as clearly as possible. Great? Awesome! Let’s get started!

Amy doesn't want to change Sonic. I will scream this until I'm not able to speak any more that Amy loves Sonic for who he is. She always has but it wasn't until IDW that she expressed it out loud. Still one of my favorite moments between them.

Does that make their relationship unique? Not really. What makes their relationship unique is what Amy loves about Sonic is kind of the reason they're not a couple yet. Sonic is an ongoing force that can’t be stopped or changed. Of course, he’ll allow someone to join him on a race, but he still keeps going. Not to say Sonic won’t stop to smell the roses (pun not intended) but he’ll do it on his own time. Amy always likes to take advantage of those moments and best of all, Sonic doesn’t mind. Even during their old chases, he’d slow down for her. Says a lot about the connection they have but there’s more

Their chemistry is…something for lack of a better term. Their back and forth is so interesting to me. Sonic does like Amy back. Notable examples here but to put it shortly, Sonic doesn’t know what he’s doing when it comes to romance. Sometimes he’s not into it and other times he’s chill. Sometimes Amy is ecstatic and other times she's bashful. I'm looking at you Sonic X.

Every time Amy’s occupied, is when Sonic wants her the most. Amy on the other hand wants Sonic to enjoy his freedom. Neither of them stops to think about how maybe they can have it both ways.

I'll also mention romance isn’t about “being tied down.” That paints romance as if it’s some kind of chain being rapt around your neck or being forced to be with the person. That is not romance. It’s keeping someone hostage. Something Amy would not do. Every time she’d joke around about marrying him Sonic didn’t take it seriously. Heroes included.

Sonic’s line in Heros: “Amy, knock it off. There's no time to play!” Dude knows Amy was messing with him. She was written to be girly, childish, adventurous, and cartoony. No, it wasn’t always executed well. Hello, Sonic Freeriders Amy! But I think this scene summons it up the best.

Important thing to mention as well is Sonic is an outspoken and honest character who rarely lies. It’s either you get the truth or you get nothing. He’s not the type to spare people’s feelings either, so if he had a problem with Amy in the past, he’d tell her directly. I do think she'd also stop if he genuinely told her to. The last thing Amy would want is to tarnish their friendship because of her actions. This loyal girl is so sweet.

Not to mention this is a popular trope in Japan too. The trope was what their relationship was based on.

Back to my original point Sonic and Amy aren’t a traditional couple. That’s a good thing. If they became canon their relationship wouldn’t change if they got together, but also they don’t need labels either. Romance isn’t or shouldn’t be a burden on you. That’s not how love works and that’s not what Sonic believes Amy to be. If that’s the case he wouldn’t be friends with her. Whether you ship Sonic with Amy, someone else, or no one, there should be no doubt Sonic values her friendship.

I’ll also add that Amy is just as up for an adventure as Sonic is. It’s why she loves him so much. They’re a power couple and love going out to travel, so there’s no staying in one place for these two.

In Sonic Adventure 2 you can tell Amy’s intuition when it comes to Sonic. Close to the end, she saw him looking a bit down and noticed his mood shifting a bit. “What’s the matter, Sonic?” “Oh, it’s nothing.” She knows him so well. I don't know what connection they run on but it’s inspiring.

These two don’t have a typical girl/boy relationship. I know some people say, “Well, why can't Sonic and Amy stay friends? Not every male and female relationship needs to be romantic.” You're 100% correct. Here are some examples.

The difference between other relationships is that Amy was created to be a Minnie to Sonic’s Mickey. Which is why these two are treated differently compared to others. Including in merch. There are more examples but I digress. The point is this specific pair is always going to have nuance even if they’re only friends. It doesn’t stop until Amy doesn’t love Sonic and even if it shouldn’t define her, it should still be a part of her. She might work without romance, but we already have other amazing female characters for that.

No one’s obligated to ship them because of this of course. Again, your opinion is still valid, and I will always stick to that point.

Last but not least is their friendship (or situationship) as a whole.

The funny thing is their friendship is what makes their romance the most compelling. The appeal to Sonic and Amy’s dynamic is how much platonic energy they have. Romance doesn’t always mean you need to be lovey-dovey. With Sonamy it’s their powerful friendship that makes the (somewhat not platonic) interactions memorable. You don’t have to choose romantic or platonic. It can be both. I wouldn't be a Sonamy fan if I didn't think their relationship was plain. I'm here because of how different they are.

And I love them to bits. Look at this panel and tell me it isn't running with situationship fuel.

Another fun detail is in recent years despite knowing Amy still loves him, Sonic hugs her back. Even the moments in Sonic X he carries her are moments he offers to. Even when it wasn't necessary.

Can’t forget about the recent asking Amy out to a dinner panel in IDW. He's never done that before. There's a familiarity between the two of them however you look at it. I LOVE them for it.

His moments of genuinely being excited to see her are not due to some development but because Sonic’s passion for Amy has noticeably increased. Why am I bringing these up? It’s because one thing that hasn’t been talked about when it comes to romance is actions. Sure, Sonic doesn't fully confess his feelings to her outwardly. But why do you have to be obvious and in people’s face when it comes to loving someone? In Japan, love is mostly shown through what you do more than what you say. That stuff can happen there but it doesn't always have to. The “Sharing an Umbrella, Amy,” line in Frontiers carries a lot more weight when you think about the implications.

Please read this post by @egalitarian-tomboy if you're interested in the implications of Sonamy in Frontiers.

The up-to-interpretation view of whatever they have together is the main reason I and so many people ship them. It’s not the fact that they are close, but the progression of their closeness. To make a long story short, the appeal of Sonamy is the fact that they don’t have to be traditionally romantic to be an interesting couple. Amy represents expressive love and Sonic represents emotional love.

Stay creative! 💜

[softtdaisy]

the right one - Charles Leclerc

summary. charles never forgot himself for letting you go. when arthur lose you, he is the one who has the heal your broken heart this time.

words count. 4,313

what to expect. it's the second part of the other one. I guess you can read it separately but some things might not make sense (specially the glue part). inspired by congratulations from Hamilton. mention of cheating, everyone is so sad in this story I'm sorry (im not) and arthur is terrible boyfriend

a/n. can you believe i told @monzabee about this fic in December 2023??? and it's finally out after all this time. I'm so happy I finally did it and gave these two another part, they deserve love and happiness.

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

When he first heard them, Charles didn’t want to believe the rumors.

For the winter break, he decided to go on a road trip in Italy with his best friends. For multiple reasons, he chose to get rid of any type of social media. Charles needed a real break after the season that had been more difficult than he thought it would. 

Also because a part of him still hasn’t gotten over you.

It was too difficult to see Arthur post pictures and stories with you all the time. And if he couldn’t escape it, nor you in the paddock during the season, Charles decided to leave all his bad feelings behind for a few weeks.

No matter how hard he tried these past months, Charles couldn’t get rid of his love for you. If he ignored you during the end of last season, even if he had your glue everywhere with him, he wanted to be nicer this year. 

Not like he had a choice if he wanted to keep a good relationship with Arthur, who still had no idea about what happened between you and Charles. He also wasn’t completely stupid: he knew it could look bad on him if he kept ignoring the photographer around the paddock. 

And it would be a lie to say that he didn’t miss you. Sure, a part of him was still aching when he was making you laugh and smile, thinking he couldn’t have the privilege to see that every day for the rest of his life because you chose Arthur over him. But he tried to be more mature and accept that if this was the best he could have, then he would appreciate it.

This was also one of the reasons why he couldn’t believe the rumors when he heard them. There was no universe in which someone would purposely hurt you.

The first time he heard about the rumors, it was because some friends from Monaco sent him a text. “What’s going on with Arthur? Is it true?” Charles was more than confused. What could be true about his brother? He didn’t want to sound stupid to ask them but still didn’t want to put his social media back on his phone.

So he turned to Joris. Because that man knew everything that there is to know. And because he knew that his friend would never lie to him. This explained the embarrassed expression on his face when Charles asked him if he knew anything about something Arthur might have done.

“You sure you want to know?” he asked him. Charles understood that something serious was going on. Even when the truth was ugly, Joris never asked him if he really wanted him to be honest. Not when Ferrari was not doing great, not when fans criticized him, not when everyone had something to say about his private life. But he didn’t hesitate a single second and agreed to hear the truth.

“Apparently…your brother cheated on his girlfriend.” Charles’ world went silent for a few seconds. That couldn’t be true. He couldn't believe it. People must be wrong and bored and choose to create drama because of the off-season. Right? 

“Actually…” Joris continued. “It’s not really a rumor since Arthur basically admitted it.”

It was a damper. 

Charles left for a few weeks, and his brother decided to ruin everything he gave up his own happiness for?

“Is it true?” He sent Arthur. No explanation.

“Yes.” He only answered.

It took Charles only a few hours to come back to Monaco. On the plane back, he opened his social media again, answered some comments and messages, and shared some Ferrari stuff. And looked at the mess Arthur created.

“Let’s review…” Charles started. As soon as he arrived, he asked Arthur and Lorenzo to come with him in the living room to discuss. They all stayed at the family house to deal with the major crisis. From what he learned, paparazzis were going around Monaco to catch any of you: Lorenzo, Arthur, and especially you. The victim of all this mess. 

Charles still hasn't seen you, though. Lorenzo’s girlfriend took you for a ride away from there, knowing Charles was coming back and that there would be a confrontation between the brothers. You didn’t need to hear about all that again. You knew the story. Well, you knew some parts of it. You refused to hear Arthur’s explanation. 

Charles knew it was for the better, but he still couldn’t wait to see you. Scared of how you would be. Scared of how he will react too.

He finally took a big breath before continuing. “This girl pretended to be pregnant with your child. And instead of just saying that you didn’t have sex with her, you said she wasn’t the one you slept with?” He chose his words wisely, taking the time to say everything correctly. Even if there were no good ways to talk about this situation.

“I panicked! What should I have done?”

“Don't say anything!” he screamed back, slamming his hands on the table. “You should have just shut your mouth and not said a fucking thing.”

“Charles…” Lorenzo warned him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He sighed and apologized, trying to calm down. His brother was right; there was no use being aggressive against Arthur. The harm has been done and couldn’t be undone. But when he gave his baby brother a look, he couldn’t handle it. Arthur looked like he didn’t understand why Charles was so angry. Like he couldn’t see the real harm in this. “Or better, you shouldn’t have cheated,” he added. 

Everything stopped around the three brothers. “Charles!” Lorenzo repeated, louder this time and with a more authoritarian tone. Like there was back in childhood when he had to play the big brother between the two younger brothers fighting for the same car. 

Except this time, it was for the same girl.

Charles knew he had to calm down and play it more cleverly. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, trying to think of a way to say things more nicely without making Arthur turn on him. He didn’t even know how he could do that: he was so mad at his brother for doing such a stupid thing.

“Aren’t you supposed to support me?” Arthur asked with a disdainful voice that made Charles look up immediately. He couldn’t even find the right way to answer this. Maybe Arthur could feel the disappointment, which is why he looked that angry. He was never the Leclerc who disappointed the family.

Lorenzo had a lot of pressure as the big brother, the one that had to be a model and perfect at any point. Charles had the celebrity pressure; being the most famous Leclerc, he had to behave perfectly. But Arthur? Everybody saw him as the baby, never accepting any bad decisions from him. Or even when he did, he was forgiven immediately.

He was not used to having people being mad at him. You were, which was already a problem. But Charles was too, and that he couldn’t handle. This explained why Arthur went upstairs silently. Well, as silently as he was, hitting the staircase loudly. 

Charles let out a loud sigh when Arthur disappeared. “You two need to talk.” Lorenzo told him, to which he agreed without the desire to deal with that right now. Instead, he started talking with his more reasonable brother about their holidays. He knew Arthur needed some minutes to calm down.

He needed them too.

He only decided to go upstairs when he saw the car parking in front of the house. You were back. 

And he couldn’t face you right now.

— 

“Thank you for coming.” Charles stopped what he was doing after that sentence. He had finally gone to see Arthur after you came back home. He waited just a minute to hear your voice, even if he couldn’t see you. He had no idea if he should accept some good or bad feeling from hearing you. He was torn between the fire that lit up again in his heart from your simple words and the hurt of knowing he was only there because of his and Arthur's bad decisions.

After he entered his brother’s room, the one he assumed you shared with him, they both stayed silent for a moment. Charles was dealing with his social media when Arthur finally decided to speak. 

And Charles was more confused than he should be. What did this mean? He turned around to look at Arthur. He was still standing next to the window, watching you outside talking with Lorenzo’s girlfriend. There was something on Arthur’s face that Charles didn’t like. Almost like he couldn’t understand why you came back. Why were you still around? Like he was waiting for you to go away after what happened. 

“I don’t know how to deal with that. I needed you here.” 

This time, it was Charles that couldn’t truly understand what was going on. Actually, no, he can. He loved his baby brother with his whole heart and would have done anything for him. To protect him. To save him from whatever situation he put himself into. But now, looking at him with the whole situation going around, Charles realized something. 

Arthur knew. He knew that Charles would have always come to his rescue. Sacrifice things for him. Do anything for his brother’s happiness before his. And that’s what he was expecting from today too.

“No.” Charles first said, mostly for himself. But it made Arthur turn around too, curious. For the rest, it came out more confidently. Like a part of him had been waiting for ages to finally say these words. “I’m not here for you.” 

He heard Arthur’s nervous laugh, and he took a step back. He wasn’t even scared of his brother; it would have been stupid for many reasons. No, he was more scared of his own mind right now. He still couldn’t believe he said it. Out loud. What he was thinking from the start.

You became his priority. 

You had been for so long. 

But Arthur didn’t let him go away with him and took this step forward and some others. “What do you mean?”

“You fucked up, Arthur.” Charles started, pointing at the window. Pointing at you. “You cheated on your girlfriend. She was willing to give up everything for you; she already did in the past. And you thank her like that? By sleeping with some other girl you don’t even know? Do you seriously think that’s what she deserves?” 

Arthur looked at him blankly. With just a smirk. Not a fun or laughing one. No, a mean one. One that Charles had never seen on his brother. It was almost like he was discovering a new face for his baby brother. And the worst was yet to come.

“You still love her.” Arthur said with an emotionless voice. And it was a real hit in the heart for Charles. He never thought that Arthur knew about his feelings. Sure, he had never been more discreet when it came to his heart. And the way he went from praising you to ignoring you during the weekend said a lot. Maybe the worst part wasn’t much that Arthur knew about his feelings. It was that he knew and let Charles sacrifice himself for him. “I should have expected it. She’s hard to forget, I guess.”

“You’re going to learn now.” Arthur laughed at this answer because it was the truth. He played, and he lost. Just like Charles did last year, technically. If Charles gave up, Arthur lost at his own game. The game over wasn’t the same, except for the fact the lost prize was the same: you. You and your heart. You and your beautiful smile were maybe gone for longer than it should have been.

Charles couldn’t handle it anymore. The more he stayed in this room, the more he was getting hate for his brother, and it was definitely not the family dynamic he wanted. So he walked to the door, ready to leave. Or to finally do what he wanted from the beginning. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Charles turned around one last time to look at his brother. But Arthur wasn’t looking at him. He took his place back, near the window. Watching you. From there, it looked like he was trapped in some kind of prison. One he was to blame for being in. But maybe the real story behind this was that he was the watchman and you were the prisoner. At least for now.

“Why did you let me date her?” 

“Sometimes you love someone so much you accept to put their happiness before yours.” Arthur gave him one single look. One that said everything that needed to be known. He wasn’t the one Charles gave up his happiness for. He did it thinking it was the right decision for you.

— 

When Charles went outside, you were still there. Alone this time. You sat on the swing seat, your eyes locked on your own shoes, not giving any interest to the environment around you. Charles’ heart broke a little at this sight. The sun wasn’t supposed to stop shining on the people around it. You weren’t supposed to stop being this joyful person. 

Even if he tried to walk slowly and not scare you, you jumped when Charles sat next to you. “Sorry,” he immediately mumbled. You offered him a small smile while he was trying to find a good seat. Ironically, he was making it move even more and making it harder to sit.

You were the one holding on to the structure to slow the movements. “I’m not great at this.” He laughed nervously. Charles didn’t know how to act around you. It wasn’t easy most of the time. But now it was even harder. They never teach you how to act around the woman you loved and let go, but even less when this same woman got her heart broken by your brother. 

“Thank God you’re better behind the wheel,” you replied, now looking straight in front of you. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You felt guilty. Sure, this whole situation wasn’t your fault; nothing could ever make you think that. But you hated that Charles had to comfort you now. After what happened between you last year, it didn’t feel right. Or fair. 

Charles shrugged, purposely hitting on your shoulder while doing it. “Well, you’re not seeing him when I sit in the car.” You turned your face to him and couldn’t contain a laugh when you saw his proud expression. In the dark, his smile was the small light you needed to not break down. It made you feel like there was still hope out there.

So when Charles stopped smiling, naturally a tear fell from your eye. “I’m so stupid,” you sighed, playing with your fingers. Immediately, he grabbed one of your hands and started playing with them too. You remember how it was something you did to him back then, when there was still something building around you. When he walked out of the car, he wasn’t very proud of what he did.

You both had the same habit of playing with your hands to avoid eye contact and focusing on something else. 

You also both had the same habit of grabbing each other’s hand to help ease the anxiety. 

“I never thought Ar…he would break my heart like that,” you confessed in a quiet and broken voice. A voice that was like a knife right in Charles’ heart. “You said it yourself, he has a pure heart. So why did he change? What did I do wrong?”��

You started crying again. And Charles was fighting to not break down too. He hated seeing you like this. He hated that he was the one pushing you into Arthur’s arms. If Charles didn’t cause the pain, he was the triggering factor. If only he had been more selfish and kept you for himself, this wouldn’t have happened.

He got up, making the structure move again, but this time you didn’t have the strength to hold it. But the swinging didn’t last long. Charles immediately kneeled in front of you, grabbing your legs to stop you from swaying. And once you were stable, one of his hands moved to your face softly. You didn’t hesitate a single second before cuddling against it, even if it meant your tears would now fall on his fingers. If you didn’t want to share your pain with him, that was all Charles was asking. To take it with him so you would feel less hurt.

“You have nothing to do with Arthur’s mistakes, ok? I hate to say that, but I was wrong. I really thought he would treat you better than…” He stopped for a second, closing his eyes to consider what he wanted to say. But he was tired of holding back his words. “Better than I would. I never imagined he would do that; otherwise, I would have never pushed you in his arms. You deserve better, ok?” 

You were absorbing every single word he was saying. Trying to remember every millisecond of his monologue so you could recite it before going to sleep that night and all the following ones when you would remember giving your heart to the wrong brother. 

“You deserve the world.” Charles pursued. You watched as he put a hand in his jacket pocket to get something. “And I hope one day you’ll find the strength to open that glue too and accept the help from someone to heal your broken heart.” 

He handed you the glue. The very same glue you gave him for his birthday. You weren’t quite sure Charles had healed his heart; he wasn’t sure himself. 

The fact he kept it this whole time—more than that, that he had it with him tonight—was the forward thrust you needed.

You thanked him silently, with a smile that he understood immediately. Charles stayed like that for another minute, brushing away the tears that were still falling and caressing your knee in the softest way you’ve ever felt.

Then he sat back on the swing seat, with more precaution this time. For the next ten minutes, he tried to change your mind by speaking of the last season and what was coming. You didn’t speak much, except for some reactions here and there. The conversation wasn’t the real distraction in the end.

It was seeing Charles so full of life, something you’ve waited to see since you’ve met him. Deep down, you took it as proof that a better future was coming.

“Let’s go inside.” Charles offered after noticing the shivers in your body grow bigger. “I can escort you to your room.” He knew that you were staying in the guest room. It wasn’t hard to guess anyway, as all the brothers took their own room, and there was no way you would be sleeping with Arthur that night. 

A part of him wished he could comfort you to sleep anyway. 

Especially after you grabbed his hand to follow him inside. So lightly that he could let it go easily if he didn’t pay attention. But enough for him to feel the contact of your skin together and feel the heat growing in him. 

“Goodnight,” you whispered to him, closing the door. Charles hated how he only noticed now how your makeup had actually been ruined through the day.

___

Charles was taking his shirt off when he heard slight bangs on his door. He was clearly not expecting anybody, especially not now and not in his family house. 

His mom was already asleep; Lorenzo was never the type to come when the doors were closed; Arthur still hadn’t come back from what he knew. So it didn’t leave many possibilities.

As he could expect, you were the one behind the door when he opened it. Charles found it sad that you were still wearing the same pajamas you probably brought for your holiday: an old shirt that he recognized from Arthur’s wardrobe and a short that was showing too much leg for his own good. 

But what made him even sadder was the expression on your face. If he thought you looked sad earlier, it was nothing compared to now.

“Do you mind if…” You didn’t even finish your sentence before your voice broke down. Charles moved aside to let you come in, giving a look in the corridor to make sure you were alone. Even if he didn’t have to explain himself if anybody saw you. 

He would never let you be alone in the situation. Nor ever, now that he thought about it.

What he didn’t expect was that the moment he closed the door, you would fall in his arms. You didn’t show much attention to him except for accepting the one he gave you earlier. But you were the one who initiated it. Compared to now.

“I'm so tired of this, Charles,” you mumbled against his naked chest. The first thing that came to your mind was how you never felt more safe and comfortable than right now, in his arms. Not even Arthur could make for his big brother natural reassurance. 

It was something that has always been true about Charles. People, friends, members of the team, family, and anyone who needed to feel comfort knew they could go to Charles for this. If he felt like he wasn’t always finding the right words, it seemed to work enough for people to feel better when they left.

Maybe that was always true about him too. People never seemed to stay.

“He’s not planning on coming back, and he left alone here, in your family house? What am I even supposed to do here by myself?” You started again, sounding angrier now. “I can’t fucking sleep in his bed because it makes me sick. Sleeping in the guest bed makes me feel bad because I don’t belong here. I feel bad because he’s not here. But he’s the one who fucked up. Why do I feel bad? Why do I feel guilty? Charles, I…”

Every word you said was like a knife in the heart for him. Hurting more than the punches you were hitting on his chest.

With each hour passing from this morning, Charles felt worse about the decision he took months ago. He should have never let you go. He would have never treated you this way. 

When you broke down, Charles held you harder against his chest. He was humming, trying to calm you down. His head was above yours, and at some point, he naturally started kissing your hair. He was trying to create a peaceful bubble where you would feel at ease. Less sad.

“You can sleep here,” Charles offered in a whisper. “I don’t mind.” 

It wasn’t until you were lying in his bed that you asked the question. Charles’ idea was to let you sleep in his bed and for him to sleep in the guest room. At least you didn’t risk Arthur coming at night, and he could deal with his brother. It never occurred to you that you would ask for the situation to be different.

But you grabbed his hand after he moved the sheet up your chest. “Would you…can you stay with me? Please?” 

Charles looked at you with confusion but also hope. A hope that lowered over the months but that never died. He replied with a simple nod and sweet smile. A reassuring one. In a home where you probably felt unwelcome, even if it wasn’t entirely true, Charles wanted you to know you were at the right place right now.

So he didn’t waste another minute and went to lie next to you. The boundaries were pretty obvious with each of you sleeping at the end of the bed and with a gap between your bodies. While you were facing the wall, he was on his back, trying to organize the mess that had been that day. 

Right when he closed his eyes to try to sleep, he felt the mattress moving. He couldn’t resist giving you a look. You were now facing him with your eyes open. “Charles?” you whispered. 

He was obviously awake, yet you were scared of disturbing him. But he gave you that smile. The one he only had the secret. The one that opened the door to his life, his head, his heart. 

“Will it be ok?” 

You knew he would understand what you meant.

When you met Charles, he was so heartbroken that he chose to put all the good things in his life aside because he felt like he didn’t deserve to be happy anymore. And even if his anxiety was still a battle he had to fight every day, it got better. A few months ago, he probably would have ignored you because he would have thought it wasn’t his place to comfort you. To be the good person in your life.

But there he was, sharing a bed with you. Thinking that maybe tomorrow could be better. And that two days later could be even better.

He knew.

That was why he took your hand, the one resting on your pillow next to your face. He held it until you chose to intertwine your fingers together. A contact you both needed. To heal the past and the future.

Charles moved to lie on his side, facing you. And with his thumb brushing your skin, he gave you the only thing you needed to hear that night.

The only thing he also needed to say. 

“It will. I promise."

[stealingpotatoes]

Hii!!! Have a nice day!

I just wonder, maybe you have any advice to new artists?

i think my best advice (for any skill rlly) is you are going to be Really Really Bad at it at first. but this is a good thing bc you HAVE to be absolutely awful at something to get really good at it

the only way to make amazing art is to make a LOT of really bad art that you get to laugh at later in life. so pay attention to tutorials, use references, and remember that every artist that you think is great now used to be TERRIBLE and the only reason theyre good now is bc they didn’t give up. so don’t give up, keep making bad art til it’s good <3

[radical-fire-vixen]

“in any group there are going to be bad people” and yet there’s never any accountability in your cult 🤔

“specific incidents of harassment” oh you mean like when trans identified males masturbate in women’s shelters and film themselves? or try and get immigrant women to wax their male genitalia? or are you just mad that women won’t play along in delusions any more?

“you only have stereotypes” nah i have actual cases of assault and harassment and murder and rape. Maya Forstater was fired because she didn’t play along with trans shit. you should really stop lying since it’s not good for your health.

i mean, there’s a reason why you see skinheads (yes those skinheads) working with the trans crowd, or actually being part of the trans crowd, but not with women who prioritize female liberation 🤷🏽‍♀️

but go ahead and keep supporting a fetishist group that demands constant external validation and affirming of delusions and gleefully hurts anyone who doesn’t play along. even male gynos that won’t give trans identified males pap smears.

sorry