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movingthisblogcelestialtarot11 · 3 months ago

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PAC—Shadow work and self discovery 🦢

Hey friends! Been a minute since I last posted anything related to a PAC. Here’s another post, dedicated to helping you understand yourself deeper :) enjoy! Feel free to like, comment and reblog it always helps this blog grow <3 thank you all to everyone who has been here.

ꪆৎ Pile 1: What part of yourselves do you refuse to acknowledge, but needs your attention?

9 of cups: I feel as though you guys have been aching to get some alone time to really think, and not just think about your plans and goals, but to access your inner fire again. You may have been surrounded by a lot of distractions, work responsibilities, last minute obligations is what I hear. And spirit doesn’t blame you for being unable to tend to yourself, it all happens, we’re souls having a human experience is what I heard. Im picking up on possible resentment, frustration, burnout, anxiety from your end. This feeling of: when will it get easier? I believe soon there will be an event in which a task, or a few gets taken off your shoulders. So you could have some external help, whether its from someone or spirit helping to alleviate the energies around you. I heard “work around,” so, there will be changes in which you’ll be taking less of a workload and you’ll get to relax. Putting work or responsibilities on the back burner.

As for what needs your attention, it’s this passionate, moving, and inspiring part of you that wants to make a return. You may find yourself feeling at odds though, like you’re stuck in burn out or a place of transition. You’re not lost, you’re meant to be here to come back to yourself. You’re doing what you can, surviving. Meditation can help you come back to yourself strongly and reconnect you to your roots, so maybe your ancestors if you work with them. I feel like you have strong support from their end—they’re mostly women, older, and wanting to govern you their motherly support. Im hearing south America, Morocco, India, Persian roots, Afghanistan, I know it’s vague, but maybe this will mean something for someone here. For those who don’t work with ancestors, id imagine this can be your spirit guides too! There is this motherly energy wanting to surround you, I think its a matter of accepting it and letting it enter you. They want to be here, im being told. They want to, not out of obligation. But because they wish to be.

I see water. A lot of water. And im being told that some things need to be still, boundless, undefined. Like water has no shape or definition until given one. This is where you need to be right now, no judgement or limitations placed on yourself. Its more hurtful in the long run to blame yourself.

ꪆৎ What hidden talent do you underestimate?

Connection. Not just with anyone, but I’m seeing a mirror. Its this vision where you’re holding a candle as a tribute to your past selves, and you’re face to face with all you ever were. I feel as though you have a deep connection with your past (sometimes feeling like you’re too entangled with it) but there’s this wisdom, deep inner knowing that you know who you are and who you could be. You’re able to meet yourself so deeply in ways society has shunned. This is your power and source of fuel. I also feel like your connection with spirit is only going to thrive the more you pursue yourself, they are apart of you.

ꪆৎ An unconscious fear driving you:

Obligation. Or a feeling of obligation. This could stem from people pleasing patterns, needing to prove how good you are at work or a skill, or a social aspect of your life. Who you are, your presence to others. This could be why you picked up others slack, I’m hearing, or work. Having to constantly be “pushy,” on others or moderate other people who aren’t responsible. Or you could be in a highly competitive environment that doesn’t feel good, its generating more scarcity than inspiration. It’s also 12:12 as I write this, so a sign from spirit. I do believe its a sign from spirit to let go of these responsibilities that were never yours to begin with. Let spirit figure other people out the way the system works. The spiritual system lol. Give into spirit and let go of control. Thank you so much pile 1 for being here <3 I hope this resonated with you!

ꪆৎ Pile 2: What part of yourselves do you refuse to acknowledge, but needs your attention?

The Fool: So for you guys I see you’re wanting to break free. Let go of some traditional values, upholding whether its family related or tied to your sexuality is what I’m hearing. Someone could have been researching puritanism and how thats been affecting societies view of women specifically, and how thats still a role today. Super specific lol but someone here definitely is working on themselves. I feel like someone here wants to let go of the ideals of a woman should be. Maybe someone wants to be alternative goth, or take inspiration from that and change. They want to embrace this, “macabre,” and moody side, so you guys might have an eye for the aesthetics and such. But its also deeper than that. Its family tradition and values, expectations, roles, constantly enforced onto you that you’re ready to break out of. Yet you feel like its holding you tightly. I think you already know you’re ready for this change. You want to try something new. It doesn’t even have to be goth related, it could be a new hobby/class, putting yourself out there socially. It could help changing your name, simple as that. It could be embracing a cultural change, a cultural identity. Maybe you found out you have a different culture identity, lineage, etc. Maybe you’re more reserved and quiet, and putting yourself out there is strange and unfamiliar. Remember, it isn’t dangerous, just unfamiliar is what spirit is saying. New and unfamiliar things doesn’t always have to be bad. I see a lot of “catastrophic” thinking or doom thinking. Intrusive thoughts about the future, and past feelings of guilt and anger coming up. Its very deep. Acknowledge this change, see what inspires you now. Maybe its better to ask yourself this: what do I feel inspired to do now in my life? Instead of: what do I want to do for the rest of my life?

ꪆৎ What hidden talent do you underestimate?

Peace. Your ability to create this “homely,” feeling wherever you go. Even in yourself. Your ability to make friends. You’re actually better at it than you thought, its just your mind that has a way of overruling your heart. Work on your heart space and allowing it to express itself without needing to make sense (at least in logical terms) its more so about, letting your heart sing is what they call it lol. Sometimes, its okay to not fully understand everything. Including yourself. You’re beautiful like a masterpiece of art, still whole, and yet building yourself. Building yourself doesn’t mean you weren’t worthy to begin with. Im sensing this warm energy especially from your chest, and its emanating. You’re probably great at jokes, emotional depth and such, I think you criticize yourself to the point where its detrimental. Im hearing from spirit it’ll only stunt your growth on this path, so please practice mindfulness and acceptance <3 I think you also underestimate your ability to shift timelines. To evolve, change your energy, and create a completely new “world,” around you. Not gonna lie your guys energy is really cool, its giving spell caster in some kind of way 😭 but honestly? Ethereal. Witchy. I love it. Use it to your benefit. The world is filled with manipulation already, not in the way you think, but I mean this: every step, every decision we make is already influencing the future outcome. Nothing is set yet. So, some of you may have been dealing with guilt, feeling like you’re cheating for using manifestation to move forward. It isn’t, not when you’re connecting so deeply with yourself to heal. Give yourself permission to dream and create.

ꪆৎ What unconscious fear is driving you?

Not knowing where to go. Trying to see the way completely, ensuring safety and comfortability. I hear you, its a human thing to want predictability. What if its holding you back? What if instead of helping you feel inspired for your next move, its keeping you confined in the same box you’ve been in for so long? I also heard fear of not being accepted if you do change. Either by your friends or family. This change seems drastic, but spirit says this, if they truly mean they love you, they’ll embrace you through all the seasons anyway. The moon has phases. She disappears from the sky. Sometimes we need to focus on ourselves and give ourself that time of day to heal. We need to allow ourselves to change and others to bear witness, not because its about approval, but so we can share our deepest experience. Gather support & trust. No one is perfect, you may have a perfectionism mindset. It’s a distorted lie lol, the way adults tell you to grow up and you’ll feel older, completely leaving out your inner child. It isn’t always the case. We are all the ages we ever have been. Make time and space for your inner child. You also might be a virgo, have strong mercurial placement, Capricorn/aquarius/scorpio/ saturn, in your chart. Thank you so much for being here <3

ꪆৎ Pile 3: What part of yourselves do you refuse to acknowledge, but needs your attention?

Judgement: For you guys, I see you know things are about to go down. Either this is a cognitive distortion, anxiety, and “doom” thinking. Its like you know there’s an inner change to be had, and it scares you deeply to think of it. Which is valid—change is scary. Its unpredictable. I also feel this could be a physical change, maybe you’re moving to a new place, home, changing schools is what I heard, and its like you’re being thrown completely out of left field. Maybe you got fired, or something feels like you’re being blocked internally. You may have this habit where you see the events happening around you, and compensate for it by blaming yourself, even though these events are out of your control. I think truly, apart from all the changes externally, you want this. You need this change. You need to expand, grow, and leave this box. I feel like for some of you theres this job or hobby or something you’ve been wanting to end, and now it is. Its coming to a head. And you’re trying to look to see whats next for inspiration! Keep it up. Channel your ideas, maybe writing them can help or answering journal prompts can get you thinking deeply. Or talking to someone about what you truly see for yourself will give you answers. A friend could have great advice for you. I also feel like you know its time to get out this “club madness” is what I heard, drama filled environment, and into a tranquil one. Its time for you to switch gears. Get out of survival mode and into living mode.

ꪆৎ What hidden talent do you underestimate?

Your emotional capacity for growth. This new and improved mindset, not perfectionism, but this idea that, “i can make mistakes and learn from it, this is teaching me something.” I also feel like you guys are animal lovers of some kind? Not only that, but sweet, caring, empathetic and loving. Maybe people mistook your kindness for weakness, you know? I feel its time to transition to your ability to set boundaries. I think you underestimate your wants and needs, and think “im cool, i dont really have much to say,” but you do. You do want to move things forward, you want change. You want realness, stability, and value commitment. So what are your values? Relationship wise, healing, etc. I also feel you guys are proactive people, when it comes to others. Others needs, wants, but what about yours? People see you as generous and kind, but perhaps you don’t see yourself as such. Work on self image & self esteem, it’ll help a lot. Also your root chakra, feeling grounded in your body is another important aspect. I think you might underestimate the way your body holds trauma too—it remembers. Your hips especially can get tight, jaw, etc. doing some stretching can help a lot, and mindful stretching! Opening your hips can release emotions too. This can feel intense. You guys have an airy floaty energy, and its cool. Its like you’re kind of there, but not really lol. But ground yourself for sure.

ꪆৎ What unconscious fear is driving you?

Feeling afraid to say the truth. To speak up, to face your inner demons. Your fear of going inward is taking the front seat right now, and causing you to struggle to face situations head on. You feel confused, unsure, and flighty. Your feelings are valid, and I think spirit is saying dancing around topics can only work for so long in the short term. It comes to a point where you want more. You expect more. You expect better from yourself mostly. So what behavior is contributing to these feelings? It could be, stopping yourself from putting down a boundary, saying no, quitting that job instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, etc. i also think being surrounded by people who are irresponsible, immature and selfish don’t help as well. Its a leechy kind of energy and it doesn’t feel good. Its promoting an unhealthy environment, so do what feels right to you. Spirit is saying to cut those people off, if it is reaching that point. These people could be “party” friends and when it comes to emotional stuff, they’re just NPCs basically. Lol. You value emotional truth and connection, so, speak up to the universe about what you desire and take yourself out of those relationships that dont serve you. Thank you pile 3 for being here <3 i sincerely hope this helped ya out!

Thank you guys for being here! Pls dont be afraid to like comment and reblog <3 love you all!

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Paid readings 🤍

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laufire · 3 months ago

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okay is it still too soon for me to say that I thought these two panels took me out of the story lmao.

Duke calling Jason a cunt could've been funny as hell, but honestly? I think the two of them giving each other shit face-to-face is too fundamentally different from Duke insulting him while he's not present. Those things show two distinct types of relationships to me and this made the moment feel out of nowhere, to be blunt.

"If I pulled a fraction of what Red Hood pulled..." In his last appearances (going back to over a year, my god... it's rough here), Jason has 1.) gotten brainwashed/chemically crippled by his father, 2.) accepted a plan that required him getting killed by his father's robot proxy, 3.) gotten chased by the cops and by Batman himself when he dared go after the Joker. He was also pointedly not present in that cheerful "this is our new family home!!" reunion (where Duke was); it wasn't mentioned whether he refused to attend or wasn't invited, but no one raised any questions about his absence so I think assuming the latter is safe.

If Duke acted the way Jason does (even if that hasn't included murder in years now, tragically xD), he might be shunned from society (YMMV on the Bats)... and so has Jason LOL. If Duked acted like Jason, yes, his race would likely get him treated even worse (for example, in TMWSL, chances are the cops wouldn't have just said they're happy with waiting for the good news that Jason's got stabbed in prison, instead of dealing with the paperwork themselves if he comes to harm on their watch). But well. It's a moot point because Duke doesn't act like Jason. Duke and Jason are on different sides of the line. Jason is explicitly on one that is considered unnaceptable by the other Bats and polite society in general, even one that has grown to accept other forms of vigilante violence.

Duke's vigilantism is more comparable to those "accepted" vigilants. If you were going to point out how white privilege lets some Bats get away with things that Duke would get judged far more harshly for... Bruce and his steady relationship with law enforcement while he performs unlawful surveillance, b&e, arrests, etc. vis a vis how many times Duke got in trouble with them when he began as Robin is a much better example.

Doylist-wise, this is just a writer picking the morally "worst" Bat as a point of comparison without pondering if the comparison holds up. Watsonian-wise... I can make it make sense for me. I can think of it as Duke now being on the same train of scapegoating Jason as the others are; of how it'd happen, and why. If I was a prime-earth-canon fic writer I would run away with that and dig deep into it. What I can't agree with is the idea that these panels hold some "objective" truth about the dynamics at play, or the idea that they are in line with previous characterisation without accounting for some change in the middle *shrugs*.

#talking to the void #my thoughts #dc #dc comics #dc thoughts #duke thomas #jason todd #bat clan #the writing tm #dc power: rise of the power company #id in alt text #captioned #like. I don't think it was the author's intention but this is once again #a scenario where jason fulfills the scapegoat's role to spare The Good Bats from scrutiny

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qqueenofhades · 11 months ago

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So I keep seeing people play the "Harris is a Cop, so I'm not voting for her because ACAB" card, and not even pointing out that she was a DA/Prosecutor rather than an actual cop seems to change their minds - as far as they're concerned, working with cops in any capacity makes you a cop. Do you happen to have anything that'd make for a good counterpoint to this argument (or, at the very least, something to make those of us who still plan on voting for her despite our dim views on Law Enforcement not feel so bad about it)?

....Not feel so bad about it?

First of all: these are laughably, incredibly unbelievably unserious people, and frankly, my first advice would be NOT to bother trying to engage with them at all, because there is nothing whatsoever they will ever accept in the way of logical proof to change their minds. First it was "you can't ask me to vote for Biden specifically because of [insert issue here.]" This changed a lot, from Roe getting overturned by the corrupt SCOTUS, to the train strike (hey anyone remember that?) to student loan forgiveness and then had settled firmly on Gaza. So now, lo and behold, they're given exactly what they asked for: a new younger candidate who is not Biden and explicitly more progressive on the Gaza issue (Harris was the first member of the administration to openly call for a ceasefire). So they turn their noses up, rush to their favorite 2020 disinformation founts that were first spouted when they were trying to sabotage her in favor of Bernie (who endorsed Biden pretty strongly before he dropped out), flirt with Jill "Actual Agent of Putin" Stein, and other equally expected and equally bullshit maneuvers. Lololololololol online leftists. Never change, or something.

That said: because their minds are so set that they will never vote for any Democrat ever, you can't really give them any logical information to separate them from this conclusion. I don't have the links on hand, but etc Google and Wikipedia are free: Harris's tenure as district attorney and California AG was progressive even by modern standards, and it was happening in the early 2000s: she refused to prosecute for low-level weed offenses, pushed for harder sentences for assault weapons, performed gay marriages LONG before it was legal even in San Freaking Francisco, refused to seek the death penalty, worked with restorative justice programs, etc. This was after she was a first-generation American child of brown immigrants who took advantage of equal-opportunity education programs to go to law school, and her parents were already high-achieving academics (one a cancer researcher from India and one an economics professor from Jamaica). Sure sure, she definitely seems exactly like Derek Chauvin to me. Critical thinking is great! #VoteJillStein! A literal puppet of Putin and unabashed Assad fangirl is definitely the pro-peace morally correct option here!*

In other words, the morons do not give a single shit about factual reflections of Kamala's record. They do not care about whether her time as a district attorney was progressive (it was) and whether she was actually a cop (she wasn't). They're so wedded at the hip to their braindead disinformation propaganda that now we're going to see the excuses change at lightspeed from why they can't vote for Biden specifically to why they can't vote for Harris specifically. None of it will be remotely tethered to reality and all of it will be in extreme and obvious bad faith. As I said, there are plenty of persuadable voters elsewhere who HAVE been energized by her elevation to candidacy. If you are indeed interested in winning voters to her side (as opposed to having to find reasons to justify yourself to the All Voting Is Evil crowd who will never listen to or believe you anyway), I suspect your time would be better spent elsewhere, and outside the echo-chamber leftist social media space in general.

Aside from that, I have gotten a few hand-wringy asks about Kamala and the election overall, and I gotta say, I am not going to waste my time and effort replying to them. We have about 100 days to win this election or become a fascist dictatorship. We are already in uncharted territory, but the replacement of Biden with Harris went UNIMAGINABLY smoothly, far, far more than anyone (including me) ever expected. It reminds me of the presto-chango that the French center, left, and center-left parties pulled off to replace candidates, IN FIVE DAYS, to better position themselves to defeat the fascists. Compared to that, three and a half months is a cakewalk, but we still absolutely do not, DO NOT, have time to sit around worrying and hand-wringing about this or that hypothetical Bad Thing. It deeply unsurprises me to hear that US Online Leftists are still throwing snits and pitching their toys out of the pram rather than getting on board, but the rest of us don't have any time to waste and need to apply our energy to where it will be best put to use. So yes.

*extreme, extreme sarcasm alert

#shm128iii #ask #politics for ts #kamala harris 2024 #and that's that on that!

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rhowena · 5 months ago

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The core problem of Campaign 3's god debate is that the only real support offered by the anti-god side is "some people are mad at the gods" and no one -- in-universe or out -- seems to realize that the mere existence of people who dislike the gods isn't sufficient to make "should the gods stay or go?" into a hyper-complex morally grey debate, any more than the mere existence of global warming denialists is sufficient to make the factual reality of climate change into a hyper-complex scientific debate. "People who are mad at the gods exist, therefore the current system is broken somehow" is the mentality of people-pleasing: if someone is mad at you, it proves that you're a bad person who did something to make them mad, and you are now morally obligated to internalize everything they say about you and devote all your energy to appeasing them.

I am, personally, of the opinion that it is vitally important for people in positions of power to maintain a healthy awareness of their own fallibility and cultivate lines of feedback from lower down in the chain the way software developers provide bug report forms; however, the reality I encountered when I accepted a forum moderation position years ago is that, if you're an Authority Figure™ of any stripe, for every person with a good-faith criticism of a poor ruling you made while overtired or an outdated policy that needs to be revised, there are a dozen who shake their fists at you because they want someone to be mad at. And when you look at the actual substance of the complaints being made (nearly all of which display a fundamental refusal to grapple with the scale the gods operate on and how that affects their decision-making) and ask "what, if anything, could/should the gods have done differently?" and "is getting rid of the gods actually a viable solution to this problem?", they're all firmly in that latter category.

To go down the list:

Vecna: If we're treating "people who are mad at the gods" as a Marginalized Group™ whose grievances are Good Points™ and Worth Considering™ simply because they are grievances with The People in Power™, then Vecna is part of said Marginalized Group™, seeing as he holds a massive grudge against the gods who helped banish him beyond the Divine Gate and per the campaign books his ultimate goal is to eliminate the worship of all deities other than himself. One can only imagine how hard he's kicking himself for failing to find out about Predathos before his own ascension.

Ludinus: His parents will still be dead whether he succeeds or fails, and preventing the same thing from happening to others is what the Divine Gate is for. Killing the gods would not only not prevent similar tragedies, it would, at least in the short term, actively make things worse: assuming Tharizdun doesn't just eat everything, how does he expect Lesser Idols like Uk'otoa to react to a glorious new age where there are no gods to keep them in check and millions of newly deity-less clerics are stuck watching people die whom they could have saved if they still had their spells? Moreover, what happens when people discontented with his glorious new era swear vengeance on those they blame for taking their gods from them, as Ludinus swore vengeance on those he blames for his parents' deaths, or start idealizing the lost age of the gods and looking for ways to somehow bring them back, as Ashton does with the Titans? Does the perspective of people who like the gods then become Worth Considering™, if they've gone from being Privileged™ to being a Marginalized Group™ who have been collectively traumatized by the loss of something precious to them?

Aeor: One of the major takeaways from Downfall was that Aeor was extremely decadent, corrupt, stratified, and generally dystopian at its height. Their main reason for wanting the gods dead seems to be not liking the existence of anything more powerful than them, and anyone arguing that the gods are Too Powerful To Exist needs to explain why the tiny cabal of mages at the tippy-top of Aeor's societal pyramid, wielding power that 99.9% of Exandrians will never have access to, were not themselves Too Powerful To Exist, especially given their evident imperialist ambitions.

Dorian: I won't downplay the genuine grievance there, but a. Opal was victimized by one of the Betrayer Gods, and what to do about them is a question that Vespin Chloras and Cassida Previn, for all their hubris, approached with considerably more nuance, and b. per the post linked in the previous bullet point, if your ultimate goal is to prevent all ill-advised deals with powerful entities and the unpleasant consequences thereof, where exactly do you stop?

Tuldus and Hearthdell: Plenty of irreligious people across Exandria are living their best lives unmolested, so the whole "you must be religious OR ELSE" isn't something the gods themselves are demanding in a systemic way, and getting rid of them wouldn't prevent all oppression any more than it would prevent all cataclysms and mass deaths. (It might not even stop the oppression committed by those specific religious people; per 'personality predates ideology', the ones who are in it to bully others and feel righteous about it will simply look for a different excuse to do so if their current one is taken from them.) There's a genuine debate to be had about how much responsibility the gods bear for their followers' actions and one could, more reasonably, accuse them of having become too lax and needing to be more stringent about telling their priests to cut that kind of shit out (though that in turn opens the question of how much they can micromanage their followers' behavior before it becomes genuinely smothering and oppressive), but it runs counter to the "the gods have too much control" narrative the Vanguard is pushing.

Liliana: Every parroted accusation she levies at the Exandria's pantheon is something Predathos and its worshippers are far, FAR more guilty of, but Predathos doesn't present itself as a caring, benevolent entity in the same way the Prime Deities do, and she expects us to believe that it admitting that it's bad somehow makes it good. (There's a Slacktivist quote that I think sums up the underlying logic here: "Once you've decided that the Most Important Thing is to avoid the wolf in sheep's clothing, your safest course of action is to embrace the wolf in wolf's clothing.")

Ashton: Essentially blames the gods for refusing to micromanage reality on their behalf and, in focusing so much on his own pain, hasn't stopped to ask what the world would look like if the gods actually felt obligated to micromanage reality on behalf of everyone who petitioned them that way, not just him personally. My dad is an agnostic and specifically doesn't believe in a god who answers prayer because what's a god to do when there's a baseball game and both teams have fans praying for their victory (or when there's a war and both armies include adherents of a given faith)?

Bor'dor: It's one thing to say that the gods have certain obligations to their followers and quite another to say that that the gods are supposed to keep their followers swaddled in bubble wrap 24/7 and prevent them from experiencing any consequences for their own actions whatsoever, and arguing that the Wildmother should have somehow stopped Bor'dor's family's suicide charge from resulting in their deaths is the latter.

Vox Machina: Continue to hold a grudge against the Matron for taking Vax away and would like to believe her being gone would make him mortal again, but when you stop to think about Vax as a person with his own feelings and opinions about his relationship with the Matron, instead of as a passive object to be fought over, the "what if Predathos eats the Matron?" scenario looks a hell of a lot bleaker. There's also the question of whether or not Predathos would consider Vax himself edible; a mere celestial might be one of those half-crushed potato chip fragments at the bottom of the bag in comparison to a god, but when you've been trapped and starving for thousands of years...

Zathuda: Objects not to being told 'no' but to the existence of forces who could potentially tell him no, which to me reads as an asshole whining about how unfair and oppressive it is when people see his assholery and tell him to cut it the fuck out.

#critical role #cr spoilers #cr meta #cr discourse #ludinus da'leth

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platypus-beans · 8 months ago

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Every day I find myself getting more and more pissed.

Whether you like it or not, either Kamala Harris or Donald Trump is going to win the election. The voting population not for either do not have enough to elect a third party, especially since none of yall can agree on which candidate you want.

None of the candidates are actually going to stop Isreal, some might say they will, but the president doesn't work alone and if the other branches don't want to do it, it won't get done.

All you are doing by refusing to vote blue because "both sides are bad!!!" for either candidate is putting America in jeopardy. Trump wants anyone not like him dead or bowing at his feet. He can say project 2025 isn't his until he's blue in the face, but everyone knows the truth.

Yes, it is *kamala's* campaign you are hurting. Trumpies are incredibly ride or die, to the point where they are still desperately spreading that "immigrants eating dogs and cats" shit because they can't accept their beautiful leader would lie to them.

The American public has fallen into this state where if the ideal isn't happening, they'll throw their hands in the air and won't do anything. It's like this with tipping culture mist evidently. The people aren't being payed properly and rely on tips, so in retaliation people refuse to tip.

You are not going to get the ideal situation by putting your loved ones in jeopardy by throwing your vote somewhere it doesn't matter.

Change happens slow and with plans, not with one stint. Your revolt is litterally a common statistic of the election which has only become more relevant because of cultish behavior on the right.

A woman of color being a viable candidate for the presidential election is fucking monumental and you're all treating it like its nothing and demanding more. You're not gonna get more in the next month and couple days. Let go of your damn pride because nothing good will happen for Palestine, or Congo, or Venezuela, or anyone else if you let Trump get in.

Is Kamala Harris perfect? No. Is she even great? Not at all. But her even getting this close to the oval office is progress.

But no. Throw away your vote. It's fine. I'm sure all the Palestinians will love you once Trump gets into power and gives Netanyahu the go ahead to kill them all with no mercy.

I'm done being fucking scared.

#us politics #politics #kamala harris #vote kamala #fuck donald trump #fuck trump #2024 elections #im done.

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myloveobbsessed · 3 months ago

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Hi again ✌🏻, could I make an order for Hiccup Haddock x male reader? In which at the beginning they are at the end of the first movie and, like what happened to Hiccup's mother, a dragon kidnaps the male reader because he liked it (this dragon can be a woolly howl? 🥺 Almost no one knows this dragon). And at the beginning of the third movie, when they are rescuing the dragons from the ship, the reader He appears with a somewhat unkempt appearance, and it turns out that all these years he was trying to locate Berk so he could return but on his journey he came across the hunters' ship. I would like a meeting full of action and romance with tears of happiness for finally meeting each other, please.

If you have any doubts because it was not understood well, let me know.

Ｌｏｓｔ

•••

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Characters: Hiccup Haddock x Male reader

Notes: sry if it doesn't have as much action scenes as you would like. I'm not very good at writing those.

•••

You stood among the rest of the Vikings, watching anxiously as your boyfriend and friends battled the Red Death. Your eyes scanned the sky, landing on Hiccup riding with Astrid and that’s when you realized he still hadn’t reunited with Toothless.

Wanting to help, you remembered seeing the Night Fury chained down on one of the boats. Wasting no time, you sprinted toward the shoreline, quickly finding the burning boat where Toothless was restrained.

You skid to a sudden halt as another dragon drops down in front of you, blocking your path. Its unexpected presence makes you momentarily forget your task.

This dragon is unfamiliar its sharp, slit-like eyes fixed on you as it slowly approaches. Instinctively, you take a step back, but the Woolly Howl continues forward, sniffing in your direction. For a tense moment, its gaze remains narrow and intense until its pupils suddenly widen, softening its expression and making it appear much friendlier.

Noticing the change, you cautiously extend your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen Hiccup do. The dragon steps closer, sniffs you again, then gently nudges its head into your palm. A smile tugs at your lips at the unexpected trust.

But before you can react, the dragon suddenly grabs you, powerful wings beating against the air as it swiftly takes off. Your cries for help are drowned out by the chaos of battle below, leaving you helpless as you’re carried away.

After the battle, Hiccup slowly regained consciousness, to everyone’s immense relief. One by one, his friends and fellow Vikings approached, offering small congratulations and words of reassurance.

As he took in his surroundings, a sense of unease crept in. He scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face only to realize you were nowhere to be found.

“Wheres is (y/n)?”

The others take a small look around as well as if trying to spot you. Astrid shrugs speaking up “last time I seen him was when we were fighting the Red Death”

Hiccup wasted no time, immediately hopping onto Toothless and scouring New Berk for any sign of you. When that turned up nothing, he even returned to the battlefield, searching desperately but no matter where he looked, you were nowhere to be found.

He refused to believe you were gone, but at the same time, it wasn’t like you to simply vanish without a trace.

Weeks passed, and despite searching high and low, there was still no sign of you. The uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving a weight in his chest that refused to fade.

•••

It had been a few years since your disappearance.

Hiccup sat on a cliffside, map in hand, his eyes scanning over it but his mind was elsewhere. No matter how much time passed, he refused to give up searching for you. He couldn’t accept that you were gone, whether by fate or by choice.

Had he done something to upset you? Something he hadn’t realized?

He shook his head. No, that wasn’t like you. You were always the type to talk things out with him.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips, dejection settling deep in his chest until the sound of flapping wings and Astrid’s voice snapped him from his thoughts.

Looking up, he saw Stormfly land nearby, Astrid hopping off with practiced ease. Toothless nudged his metal leg toward her. She scrunched her face in mild disgust before tossing it aside, both dragons immediately bounding after it.

Astrid settled beside him at the edge of the cliff, silence stretching between them.

Then, finally, Hiccup spoke. “Hey do you think….he’s..you know. Alive.”

Astrid looks at him before back out at the vast scenery not answering for a moment. “I mean..he could be but…” she stops holding back hesistanting to say her next words. “.. I wouldn't keep my hope’s too high”

Hiccup exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around the edges of his map. He hated hearing that hated the idea of accepting a world where you weren’t in it. He understood she was trying to be realistic but the thought of giving up, of accepting that you might be gone, made his stomach twist.

“I have to keep my hopes high,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “Because if I don’t, then who will?”

Astrid sighed, crossing her arms. “I get it, Hiccup, I do. But it’s been a year’s. If he was alive, don’t you think he’d have found his way back by now?”

Hiccup flinched, but his expression remained firm. “Not if something’s stopping him.”

Astrid didn’t respond right away, but her silence was answer enough. No one wanted to argue with him about this anymore. They all thought the same thing they all thought you were gone.

But Hiccup knew you. You were smart, you were determined, and you never gave up easily. If you weren’t back, there had to be a reason.

•••

Chaos consumed the ship flames crackled, dragon hunters clashed with dragon riders, and captive dragons were being set free. The commotion echoed through the lower deck as you struggled to break out of your cell, frustration mounting.

Then, through the din, you caught sight of a familiar figure (d/n) (dragon’s name).

A bright smile spread across your face at the sight of him after so long apart. He let out a joyous gruff before charging forward, practically tearing the cell door off its hinges to free you. Without hesitation, you reached up to pet him, wrapping your arms around his scaled neck in a brief but heartfelt embrace.

The two of you hurried to the ship’s deck, where the full scale of the battle came into view. Fires raged, blades clashed, and dragons soared overhead. As your eyes darted through the chaos, they suddenly locked onto a familiar face.

Without hesitation, you strode up behind her, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Astrid?”

•••

The air buzzed with celebration as everyone cheered for Hiccup’s victory over Grimmel. Laughter and joy filled the space, the weight of battle finally lifting.

Your dragon landed nearby, eyes scanning the crowd until they locked onto one person—your boyfriend.

Hiccup leaned against Astrid for support, exhaustion evident in his posture. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Astrid glanced toward you. “Oh, look who I found,” she said, pointing in your direction.

Hiccup’s gaze followed her gesture, and his eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of you.

“He was held prisoner by Grimmel,” Astrid explained, stepping aside just as you reached them.

Without hesitation, you pulled Hiccup into a tight, desperate embrace tears pricking your eyes. He stood frozen for a moment, processing the reality of your presence then, as if breaking free from a trance, he wrapped his arms around you just as tightly.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, simply holding onto each other.

When you finally pulled away, Hiccup got his first real look at you. Your hair had grown longer, a light stubble framed your jaw, and you stood a little taller. Subtle changes, but enough to make you look older, more mature.

Different from the way he last saw you.

Hiccup’s breath hitched as he took in every detail, as if afraid you might disappear again if he so much as blinked. His hand reached up, hesitating for a second before gently brushing against your cheek.

“You’re really here…” His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief and raw emotion. “I— I thought I lost you.”

You let out a breathless chuckle, blinking back tears. “I thought I lost you too.”

His grip on you tightened for a moment, like he was grounding himself in your presence. Then, finally, he pulled back, his eyes flickering with something between relief and lingering worry.

“What happened to you?” he asked, voice softer now, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

“Well during the fight with Red Death until (d/n) here decided he wanted me for himself” (d/n) come’s over nuzzling into you, your boyfriend looks at the Wooly Howl. “I tried finding berk again but it was difficult…then I was captured by Grimmel”

You look back at Hiccup a frown forming on your face out of guilt. “I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to just leave you like that.”

Hiccup’s eyes softened as he took in your words, his gaze flickering between you and (d/n), who was now nuzzling into you like an overgrown cat. He let out a slow, steady breath, his fingers tightening for a brief moment on your hand before he finally spoke.

“It’s not your fault,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with the emotion he’d been holding back for so long. “You didn’t choose to disappear. I know that. But I…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I was just… lost without you. I didn’t know if you were alive, or if I was ever going to see you again.”

His eyes held yours, sincere and vulnerable, like he was laying bare the weight of everything he’d been carrying while you were gone. “But now that you’re back… I’m just relieved. So relieved.”

(d/n) let out a soft snort as if agreeing, and Hiccup couldn’t help but chuckle at the dragon’s antics, his mood lightening just a bit.

You met his gaze, the years of silence and distance between you finally starting to fade as you spoke from your heart. “I’m here now, Hiccup. I’ll make it right. I’ll make sure I’m never gone like that again.”

Hiccup gave a small smile, his fingers lightly brushing against your cheek. “I believe you. And I’m glad you’re back.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his grip tight as though he never wanted to let go again.

•••

#httyd hiccup #httyd x reader #how to train your dragon #hiccup x reader #x male reader #dragon #dreamworks #dreamworks x reader #hiccup x male reader #hiccup haddock #dreamworks httyd

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jesterkoops · 2 months ago

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ISTG if I have to spend the next two years watching people be pre-emptively miserable over Hellyna for no reason other than the general audience being dumb and therefore that must somehow mean Dan is just going to throw his whole story out of the window...

I understand plenty of shows have done that in the past but, no offense, it's usually pretty shitty shows with shitty writers. Prestige television almost never does that unless its showrunners are dudebros who have Game of Thrones as their template for what they think great television is. If you are a good writer you don't pander to people who don't understand your work, or change direction willy nilly based on what people expect or don't expect. If anything, you double down on it to really drill it into people's heads. And while I can't say I trust ANY writer 100%, Dan doesn't give me the vibe of someone who's ego-driven and who either wants to outsmart or over-pander to his audience.

Plus, nothing whatsoever seems to hint at them suddenly deciding that because people don't like/understand Helena she's going to be written off at "the villain" and that's it. Every single time any of them talks about Helena the theme is consistently about how trapped she is, how Helly is a manifestation of her repressed nature, and Britt has been avoiding any question about Helena's "redemption" like the plague, which means it's a spoiler. And sidelining her would literally go against the entire premise of the show being about people finding their true selves through their innie-outie dynamic, about outies recognising that the innies are people, and about whether kinship transcends across innies and outies. It's also why any scenarios where Helly refuses reintegration because "Helena bad" is so off putting to me. Because that is Helly literally learning NOTHING and being stuck where she was in S1. She has literally reached the point in the finale to start accepting she IS Helena, and you think that's all going to be for nothing? Or that Cobel's in-your-face line about SHE IS AN EAGAN YOU MEAN NOTHING TO HER is going to prove true?? There's nothing more delicious to a writer than subverting their own characters' expectations and preconceived notion of other characters as a conduit to subvert the audience's.

I know I myself speculated about Helena "killing herself" for Helly by permanently severing herself, but that was early on in my Severance adventure and before I really got a good grasp of the underlying message the show is aiming for. I don't completely rule it out, but I think it's a very unlikely outcome at this point and even if something along those lines were to happen, it will happen after Helena has had plenty of development and "natural reintegration" with Helly so that there will be a lot of Helena in Helly by the time all's said and done. They're not going to suddenly go "well oops! Helena is evil and must die so Helly and/or Markgemma can ride off into the sunset".

#severance #helly r #helena eagan #hellyna #helly e #seriously guys #get off twitter and enjoy the show

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aphrostarot · 11 days ago

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Self Care Pick a Pile

What actions can you take at this moment to prioritize your self-care?

As this is a general collective reading, some things may not resonate with your personal situation. DO NOT try forcing it to fit. If you would like to book a personalized reading with me, go to my profile and follow the instructions on my pinned post.

Pile One:

What is your current emotional state?

Ace of Air (Swords):

Out of all the energy I channeled for this reading, you, pile one, are in the best place mentally. That’s not to say that you haven’t been struggling and still don’t struggle daily, but with an Ace coming out to represent you currently, you are at the start of a journey. Aces in tarot are usually accompanied by a burst of motivation, a spark of inspiration that gets the ball rolling for you on this journey, whatever it is, depending on the suit. The Ace of Swords talks about a breakthrough of sorts, a moment of clarity, and a new idea. This is why I say that you have been and probably are still struggling. You have been on a difficult path, one that you are just now starting to reach the end of. You may have found that in recent weeks or days even, you have been feeling much more motivated to get things done; you also may have discovered that your previous ways of taking care of yourself and viewing yourself are no longer aligned with who you are in this current moment, which is where this burst of motivation comes in for you. You are excited to focus on yourself for the first time in a while.

What do you need to do to tend to or heal yourself?

Fortune’s Wheel:

As I mentioned above, you have just started to be more willing to accept change in your life, particularly regarding your self-care. You have new ideas of what you think will work best for you. The Wheel of Fortune solidifies that for you, what do you need to do to tend to or heal yourself? Accept change in your life, especially when it happens unexpectedly. You may experience some unexpected events in your life in the near future, and your guides are telling you here that these things were sent to you on purpose to aid you on this journey. You need to accept them with open arms. Don’t fight the changes that are coming.

What is something that you are repressing and must accept?

9 of Fire (Wands) Reversed:

You seem to be someone who struggles with change, whether it's because you have control issues or simply because you are afraid to break out of your routine. Whatever it is, pile one, you need to break these habits because change is coming into your life, and it's fast approaching. You know that this is something you need to do, but you've been holding off on it, too afraid to let go and accept it. This needs to change, pile one, because you are on the last leg of this journey, and the last thing you need to do is accept what your guides have been trying to send you. You've been getting that spark of energy that comes with the start of a journey, and it seems that you're there, but you still have one foot stuck in the past, and that can't be if you genuinely want to move forward.

What in your life needs to change?

6 of Fire (Wands) Reversed:

Your drive and motivation are centered on getting recognition for your efforts, regardless of what they may be. You aren't doing these things to better yourself and feel good about yourself; you're doing them so the people around you think you're good. This mindset is not a good one to have, pile one. Your guides tell you here that you have not been getting the results you want because you refuse to start doing these things for yourself rather than the people around you. Your guides remind you here that you can be the one who gives you the recognition you crave. Focus inward rather than outward. Start receiving happiness and pride from yourself rather than those around you.

What do you need to distance yourself from?

9 of Air (Swords):

You have been isolating yourself during this rough time you've been in. This may be because you don't want the people in your life to see you as vulnerable or 'weak,' which then causes you to sink deeper and deeper into yourself without actually doing the work you need to because that would require you to address your emotions. You do not do that, preferring to pretend nothing is wrong instead. You've been letting your fears and anxieties control your life for quite some time now. This is what you need to be distancing yourself from. Address these emotions and try to understand why you're experiencing them. It is also worth noting that the Nine of Swords talks about nightmares, so you could have been experiencing some pretty intense nightmares lately.

What needs to be welcomed into your life?

4 of Water (Cups) Reversed:

During this period of isolation, you may have lost your passion for self-care. You used to care a lot about how you took care of yourself and how you presented yourself, but it seems that that was lost in the darkness you’ve been living in. You grew bored with your routine, feeling disconnected from it, as if it no longer matched who you were. The Four of Cups reversed shows a moment of sudden clarity, almost as if you just woke up one day and realized this was something you needed to change. Maybe that has already happened, or perhaps this reading is what makes you aware. Whatever it is, this card here tells you that choosing happiness needs to be welcomed into your life.

What should you be proud of?

4 of Fire (Wands):

You have cultivated a loving community around you, and that's something to be proud of. There may have been a time in your life when you surrounded yourself with people who didn't align with you, leading you to fall into toxic patterns. Now, however, you have learned from that mistake and make it a point to surround yourself with people who make you feel happy and secure. Your guides tell you this is something you need to address, as it may seem like it's not a big deal to you, but you need to realize that it is.

Bottom of the deck energy:

10 of Water (Cups):

The bottom of the deck energy always talks about the underlying theme of the reading, and for you, pile one, it is the Ten of Cups, which is the card of happiness. As I said at the start of this reading, you are in the best place compared to the rest of the piles. You have been stuck in that darkness I talked about for so long, and now you're starting to emerge from it, which is bringing much-needed light to your life. However, as I mentioned, you are not entirely out of that darkness, as part of you is still stuck there, and that's why you were called to this reading, because you needed that nudge to get you entirely over into the light.

Some of you may also be drawn to nature, or your guides tell you you must go outside more often. They may also communicate with you through the wind.

With this pile, I was getting strong air sign energy, so you could be or have major placements in Gemini, Libra, or Aquarius.

The colors, yellow and green, may also be significant for some of you.

Extended Reading

Pile Two:

What is your current emotional state?

Ten of Swords Reversed:

You are in a dark place, Pile Two. You have hit rock bottom and have been stuck there for quite some time now. Some of you may feel like there is no way through this, while others have started to see how you can come out. Whichever one you resonate with the most, you are still in this darkness. Some of you may have also been called to Pile One but chose this one instead. That is a good thing because Pile One will represent you once you fully accept that it is in your hands to come out of this darkness, but I don’t believe you are there yet, Pile Two, which is why you were drawn to this pile the most.

What do you need to do to tend to or heal yourself?

Seven of Swords:

You have some strong escapist tendencies, Pile Two. Whatever you do, the root of these behaviors lies in your reluctance to face your problems, choosing instead to push them aside, believing that they will resolve themselves. Your guides are telling you here that what you need to do to heal and tend to yourself is admit that this is something you do and accept that it is something you need to change. Once you do that, Pile Two, you will be one step closer to healing yourself from these wounds.

What is something that you are repressing and must accept?

Ten of Wands Reversed:

This is the second Ten to come out for you, Pile Two. Tens in Tarot represent the end of a cycle or journey, and having multiples come out in the same reading is a clear sign that you are going through this right now. The Ten of Wands Reversed shows that you are repressing the fact that you know that you have been putting too much on your shoulders, thinking you can handle everything on your own, and this mindset has sent you into this downward spiral. You know this is a bad habit, yet you continue to do it because you are afraid to address the issue for whatever reason. You would much rather shove it away and ignore the problem than actually do the work to fix it.

What in your life needs to change?

King of Pentacles:

The King of Pentacles is a disciplined leader, driven, ambitious, and wildly skilled at meeting even their loftiest goals. The success embodied by the King of Pentacles isn’t achieved through sheer luck, however, but by working hard and taking the time to master skills. When he comes out in a reading, he represents someone materially successful in a significant way. This is who you are, Pile Two, and this is something that needs to change. You focus too much on your work and financial gain rather than on your emotions and mental health. You need to start shifting gears and put the energy that you are putting into your work into your mental health.

What do you need to distance yourself from?

Ace of Swords:

The Ace of Swords is the card of sudden breakthroughs and focus. What this means for you Pile Two, is that you need to quit spending all of your energy focused on your next project at work and focus that energy inward. You may be a Capricorn or have significant Capricorn influence in your chart, because this is something that Capricorns are notorious for.

What needs to be welcomed into your life?

Three of Swords:

As I have said multiple times in this reading, Pile Two, you are someone who refuses to acknowledge your feelings as they arise. This behavior has caused them to well up inside of you, and now you feel like all that darkness is controlling your life, and you don’t know how to get out. Spirit tells you here, Pile Two, that you need to face these emotions head-on and allow yourself to feel them for once. Understand that the pain you will feel when facing these issues is only temporary. Everyone goes through rough times in their lives, and these situations usually lead to tremendous personal growth. Remember that this pain won't last forever, the sun will come out again, and things will be okay.

What should you be proud of?

Three of Pentacles:

You have just completed something you have been working on with a group of people. Your spirit guides tell you that you should be proud of this. It may have taken up a significant portion of your life and a great deal of work, so your guides say that you should take a moment to celebrate this. If that does not resonate with you, Pile Two, it could be that you are just a great networker and someone who works well with others, and your guides are telling you to be proud of that.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Two of Swords:

The bottom of the deck in every tarot reading shows you the overall theme of the reading. In your case, Pile Two, you are facing a difficult decision. You’re having trouble making this decision, which could be because you lack clarity. You are stalling and avoiding making a decision altogether, but this reading reminds you that you can’t do this forever. This problem will not magically go away. The solution requires you to step back and center yourself to see things more clearly.

Extended Reading

Pile Three:

What is your current emotional state?

Eight of Swords:

The Eight of Swords pops up in a reading when you're feeling stuck or trapped, like you're in a tight spot. It might feel like you're caught between a rock and a hard place right now. This card carries a vibe of loneliness; whatever struggle you're facing, it seems like you're in it alone. You might be feeling down, isolated, and even worn out. It seems to me, Pile Three, that this sense of isolation is something you've created for yourself. I'm picking up on some strong, unevolved Virgo energy from this pile, so you could be a Virgo or have Virgo in a significant spot in your chart, like a Virgo Moon. But if you don't identify with that but still feel drawn to this pile, it’s likely still meant for you; just remember to take what resonates and leave the rest.

What do you need to do to tend to or heal yourself?

Three of Wands:

The Three of Wands is a card that celebrates exciting collaborations and creativity. It’s all about friendship, togetherness, and innovative communities. With this card appearing here, it’s a nudge to be social. Go out with your friends! Spend time with your family. Take a break from overthinking and just have some fun.

What is something that you are repressing and must accept?

High Priestess Reversed:

With The High Priestess reversed, it seems like your intuition is trying to speak to you, but you’re not listening. Is that intentional? Maybe deep down, you’re aware of the truth but not ready to face it. The more you ignore your instincts, the more intense their call becomes, and it can get pretty uncomfortable. Acknowledging brutal truths can be challenging, but it’s time to stop avoiding them. You can’t spend your life pretending things are different from what they really are. You can confront this and deal with it head-on.

What in your life needs to change?

The Hierophant:

The Hierophant represents all things traditional. It recognizes the importance of hierarchies, structure, and organized tradition. It speaks of conformity and social belonging. When it comes out in a Tarot reading, it indicates a lot of instability in your life. It tells you here that this needs to change. It’s time for you to find some solid ground through tried-and-true methods. It also tells you that you need more friendship and companionship. You may have been unfocused, listless, and lonely, and the people in your life can help you. You have been retreating into yourself during this hard time, and it is time to remind yourself that there is strength in community.

What do you need to distance yourself from?

Five of Cups and Eight of Wands:

The Eight of Wands is the card of quick movement, and while it can often symbolize a good thing with the Five of Cups coming out alongside it, this is not a good thing for you. There was a major opportunity that came into your life very quickly, something that you were very excited about, except it didn’t work out for whatever reason. Because of this, you have been wallowing in your pity party instead of moving forward with your life. Your spiritual team is telling you here that things are not as hopeless as they seem; this feeling will pass. You can allow yourself to be sad for a while if you need to, but don’t let regret or disappointment consume you.

What needs to be welcomed into your life?

The World:

The World comes out in this reading to tell you things are falling into place beautifully. A long journey is being completed. Your first instinct may be to run from this, but that would only further your suffering. You have learned so much on this journey; you’ve come through trials and tribulations, and can now turn the page and begin the next chapter of your life. You’ve reached a place of cultivated knowledge and maturity, and now is the time to share that story of personal growth with others. This card coming out tells you that you should welcome this change into your life. You should tell the tales of your experiences, so that other people can learn from what you’ve been through. You’re in a coveted place of strength and self-reliance, after all, and you have the power to help others get there, too.

What should you be proud of?

King of Pentacles Reversed:

I pulled some extra cards to get some more clarification on this card here, and the Nine of Pentacles as well as Strength came out. As I said above, Pile Three, this darkness you are in is one of your own creation. This opportunity that fell through in your life fell through because you were far too focused on the material gain that would come from it, rather than what could potentially go wrong if you took it. With the Nine of Pentacles coming out with Strength as a clarification for the King of Pentacles Reversed, your spiritual team is telling you that you need to be proud of your ability, not to let this darkness eat you alive. You have the strength to get through this by tending to the garden you have cultivated in your life. This garden is your mental health as well as your material wealth. You have spent the majority of your life tending to this garden with your hard work and determination, and one lapse of judgment will not destroy it all. A weed has grown in your garden in the form of this opportunity falling through, and your guides are reminding you of something you have always known: that you can fix this problem; it is not the end of the world. Your guides say that you should be proud of your ability to pick yourself back up and move forward. Yes, you may have let it consume you for a minute there, but that is an unusual thing for you, and you always knew in the back of your mind that you could get through it.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Nine of Swords:

The Nine of Swords is the card of intense anxiety. When it comes up as the bottom of the deck energy in this reading, it means that in all areas of your life, you are experiencing some pretty intense emotional anguish, maybe even nightmares. Your anxiety is the worst it has ever been. But as this reading has established, it is important for you to acknowledge why you are in this state and to work on calming your mind right now. Remember that things aren’t always as bad as they seem. Your guides are on your side and are helping you through this.

Extended Reading

#aphrostarot #tarot readings #tarot #pick a pile #pick a card #oracle readings #oracle #divination #spirituality #self care #tarot messages #message from spirit #channeled message

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nicksolemnlyswears · 2 years ago

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DUDDDDE!!

I am in LOVE with your writing. I have been craving some good Han Lue works and you're filling the hole!

Everywhere is extremely lacking in quality Han Lue content bro 😭😭

But any whosies.

I was wondering if it were at all possible to request a Han work from you (from what I've seen you still have requests open so if you don't im sorry)

Specifically something about a reader who's fucking amazing at driving, and has been crushing on Han for a while, and the two decode to race (set in Tokyo) and whoever wins gets the loser to do what they want. Y'know classic setup.

You could choose where this leads to. Idc if we win or loose. All I want is a little bit of fluff sprinkled amongst some smut mayhaps. You could do this in headcannon format btw don't feel obligated to write the whole thing.

I'm just thirsting for any thing I can take 💀🙏🏼

Take your time! <3

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

pairing: han lue x racer!reader

words: 11.4k

warnings: some cursing and smut (pls wrap it before you tap it) don't judge my smut too much, it's been a while since i've written one

notes: hi anon! thank you for all your sweet, sweet words 🥺 i hope this is somewhere along the lines of what you were thinking of. as soon as i saw your request i was ✨inspired✨ it's been a long time since i've been so hooked by a oneshot. i have worked on it almost everyday since i received it so thank you! i changed the request just a little bit, i hope you don't mind.

trust me i know there is a ridiculous lack in han content! it's the reason i'm here writing over this man! there is not enough content for the speed i consume it, lol. i've read my own headcanons like 10 times already, excluding the times i was working on it.

anyways! might have gotten a little carried away but i enjoyed writing it so much! here you go! enjoy!

i really really hope you like it!!

Tokyo was the city where you learned how to street race. Weaving through the cars on the highway became second nature the harder you pressed the gas pedal. The neon lights turned into blurs as you sped down traffic, whether it was in search of a prize or a thrill.

You were meant to meet Han Lue. His presence became known as soon as he stepped foot in the parking complexes that serve as makeshift race tracks. He quickly became popular with the crowd, especially when he joined DK's crew.

His races were seen as exclusive, known to happen once in a blue moon. He was totally opposite to you. You took the opportunity to race any moment you could. It's what lead you to become a good racer. Practice makes perfect, after all.

'Good racer' is a bit of an understatement. You're one of the best right after DK. There's a debate about whether the second best is you or Han. Each person can take their pick. Many have suggested the idea for the both of you to race, but Han has shot down each and every one. He doesn't need to prove himself to anyone. Besides, he hasn't had anything to gain from racing you.

People like to call you 'Angel' because when you started participating in the races, you looked like an absolute angel, but soon after, they discovered you raced like the devil. You fool everyone around you, even with the way you drive. Whenever someone has to go against you, they think they have your strategy down, yet you switch it up every time.

The distinctive revving of your car alerts Han of your presence. He glances to his left, where you've parked right beside him. As you open the door and step out of your car, he opens a bag of chips, depositing one into his mouth.

You walk over to him, leaning against his car like he is. The bare skin of your back arching slightly as it touches the cool metal. "Have I missed anything?"

Han shakes his head cooly, watching his surroundings. He spares you a glance, taking in what you're wearing. A short, shimmery dress with an open back and high heels. Seems like you don't plan on racing tonight. You refuse to race in high heels. You've tried before and failed. You didn't lose, but you did break off both heels.

You feel his eyes trailing over your body, and you don't mind it. You like that you can catch his attention that way. Having a crush on a guy like Han takes work. He has every woman's attention in the racing underground. They often cling to his arms and bat their eyelashes his way, and he has gladly taken a few of them home.

"You done judging my outfit?" You say, looking at him.

"Not judging, admiring," he promptly replies with a small shrug.

That right there is what feeds into your silly little crush. Han isn't afraid of your comments or banter. If you look good, he'll say it. It's the way he says it that irks you, though. He is so nonchalant and aloof like he's commenting on the weather.

It doesn't help that he's never truly made a move on you. He considers you his friend and acts that way (most of the time, at least). You hate every moment because being his friend is the last thing you want.

"I take it you're not gonna race tonight?" He asks, already knowing the answer. He just needed an excuse to talk to you. Digging into his bag of chips, he grabbed another one to pop into his mouth.

"Not unless it's against you," you respond cheekily.

Han chuckles, "Not you too."

"Are you afraid of losing, Han?" You ask him, keeping your eyes on the race about to start. Why else would he avoid racing you?

Han props one arm on the roof of his car, facing you and saying, "If you're into racing, you can't be afraid to lose, Angel."

"Then why don't you spoil me a little and race me?" You hum, turning your head to face him. He's much closer than you anticipated, but you resist the urge to pull back despite the reddening of your cheeks. You want Han to know you like him even if you refuse to say it out loud.

"Maybe one day when I have something to race for," he responds simply, kissing your cheek and turning back to watch the race.

You release a shaky sigh and try to calm your pounding heart. Extending a hand, you dip your fingers into Han's nearly empty bag of chips and steal one for yourself. Han doesn't mind lowering the bag to make it easier for you. There's a smirk on his face as he fully well knows what he did. It's fun to make you flustered.

Han is out on the streets of Tokyo doing business or collecting his money from the greedy hands of wanna be gangsters. It's entertaining, to say the least, although sometimes it gets tedious. It's only fun when they get rowdy and want to intimidate him. They should know better than to judge Han by his calm exterior.

He's walking by the busy streets of Shibuya, the shopping district of Tokyo, minding his business. Han avoids the masses of people until he looks into a store and sees you. You're by the checkout desk, ringing out a client.

Han can't help it; he's drawn to you. Forgetting the wad money he has to collect, he enters the store. The bell on top of it chimes, prompting you to greet the customer in an abnormally cheery tone.

"Hello, welcome to-Han?" You stutter over the greeting, seeing his slightly mocking grin.

Han walks over to you and leans on the counter, there was barely anyone in the store now. Perfect timing. He assesses you and your overly pink clothes, bedazzled name tag, and glossy pink lips. It's unlike you to be so pink. He recalls you telling him you hate the wretched color.

"So this is where you work, Angel," he hums, toying with the trinkets on the checkout counter.

"Not everyone can survive with racing and sketchy side deals," You mutter. One hand on your tilted hip as you shoot him an annoyed look.

If racing made you enough money, you certainly would not be working in a store that makes you wear pink on every single shift. You could get more involved in the sketchy part of racing, but things are alright for now.

"True," Han stifles a laugh. He grabs a lollipop from the big jar filled with sweets for the paying customers and pops it into his mouth.

You extend a hand to throw away the colorful wrapping, and he places it gently on your hand, fingertips grazing your palm. You're not a teenager to be reacting over such minuscule actions, yet you do.

"What are you doing here, Han?" Han adores it when you say his name that way, pretending to be annoyed by his presence when in reality, you love having him around.

"Wanted to visit my favorite girl," he responds aloofly, carefully gauging your reaction. As he expected, your cheeks redden, and you try to hide it.

"Did you know lying makes your nose grow long," you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"Could be useful," Han says cheekily, causing your blush to deepen.

"If you're not going to buy anything, you can't be here," you shoot with a pout.

You weren't prepared to face Han this afternoon. You didn't get to repeat your affirmation as you do every night you encounter him. His constant playfulness throws you off, not giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.

"Oh no, consumerism got its claws on you," he jokes sarcastically. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, which only emphasizes the size of your chest. "Fine, help me find a new jacket?"

You round the counter and motion for Han to follow you toward the men's section. Your coworker will have no problem taking over the checkout counter.

You shoot Han question after question in search of the perfect jacket for him: colors, textures, durability, versatility, sizing, and so on. He responds just as quickly, propping an arm up and leaning against a rack of clothes as he watches you storm all over the store in search of the item that screams Han. He had no intentions of buying anything today but seeing how invested you got it leaves him no choice.

"I quite like this one," you beam, standing Han in front of a full-length mirror. You slide off the jacket he's wearing and replace it with the nice black leather jacket you found for him. Dusting him off, you look into the mirror seeing how perfectly it fits his broad shoulders.

"Why do I feel like you're giving me the most expensive one?" Han asks, looking at himself in the mirror.

He had to admit you picked well. He looks great in the black leather jacket. It didn't have too many buckles to make him uncomfortable, and it wasn't too warm either. The material felt nice and luxurious hence his comment.

"You asked for my help," you shrug, "It's not my fault I have expensive taste. Besides, you look hot in it." You wink at Han through the mirror.

Han tries to hide the smile forming on his lips. You were getting bolder and bolder. He knows about your crush on him; you're terrible at hiding it. Truthfully, he's felt the same from the moment he saw you race. You're oblivious, though, so he likes to tease you.

"I'll take it," Han sighs, refusing to look at the price tag. "Might even wear it on a date."

"Oh, you've got a date?" Your smile falters, quickly regretting picking such a nice outfit that makes him look so handsome. You'd definitely put out if a man wore that to a date and was as lovely as Han. All of your hard work just for another girl to enjoy it. If you catch one of Han's little friends wrapped around the jacket...you will burn it.

"Not yet," he says mysteriously, taking off the jacket and returning to the checkout counter. Han has to get going. He does have to collect his money. Especially now that you've convinced him to buy the expensive leather jacket. 'It's an investment,' he tells himself.

"She'll be one lucky girl," you huff, scanning the tag, carefully folding it, and placing it on a bag. "Don't worry, I'll apply the friends and family discount."

You watch Han go through the display window and hope he was just fucking with you on the whole date thing. You can live with your crush and have him as just a friend, but if he gets a girlfriend, you will not be able to manage it. You scold yourself silently for acting like a lovesick teenager. You're better than that. Right?

Taking the party to Han's club after a race is a must, especially after winning six thousand dollars. You won't have to worry about rent for at least six months, which is something to celebrate.

You park next to Han's car, and he waits for you to enter the plain-looking building. People greet him left and right as they go through the door that pours music and lights each time it's opened.

"You sure are popular," you tease him, leisurely walking towards him.

"Comes with the territory," Han responds without missing a beat. "Ready?" He asks, motioning for you to walk ahead of him.

"Always," you chirp. You purposefully accentuate the sway of your hips, giving Han something to look at.

Being a Friday night, the inside is filled to the brim, there isn't any space for more drunken people. Using your short height to your advantage, you easily find a way to the connecting hallway between this part of the club and the more exclusive one.

Han isn't as lucky constantly losing you from his sight. He's conscious that you are a grown woman capable of making your own decisions and caring for yourself, but he'd feel better being with you.

When he catches up to you at a point, he grabs your hips, pressing you against him, preventing you from getting lost again. You look back, startled, expecting to see a stranger rubbing against you. Noticing this, Han quickly calms you, "It's just me, Angel."

'It's just Han,' you repeat to yourself. You grab onto one of his hands, holding onto your hip, taking full advantage of the situation. Having Han wrapped around you feels like being on cloud nine. If this wasn't his club, you'd be going in circles, so he never pulls away.

With Han holding onto you, the way to the 'not-so-secret' hallway takes longer than usual. Not that you're complaining, though! Han's firm grip makes you fall harder for him. It fuels your imagination on how it would feel in other situations.

Han enjoys this position just as much as you do. He can pretend it's a safety thing as he steers you away from the sweaty bodies of drunks dancing, but it's for his selfish gain.

Having your body close to him reminds him of what he's missing and desperately desires. It started as a little innocent game for Han, knowing you had a crush on him, but then it turned into something more. He likes that you have feelings for him and wants it to stay that way. Han wants your attention on him all the time. His games are over; he wants you.

To your surprise, Han doesn't let go of your waist when you enter the hallway. Instead, he slings one arm around it as he walks beside you. "Maybe we should've taken the other entrance," he smirks.

"And miss the show?" You chuckle, finding a couple making out in the deserted hallway. Neither is willing to admit it's not about the show but about Han's proximity.

Unlike all the other times in the past you've partied with Han, he doesn't let go of you for more than two minutes. You dance all night together, just the two of you, no girls coming up to Han and no guys coming up to you. There simply wasn't a window of opportunity.

"You enjoying yourself?" He says in your ear over the loud music. Your back is against his front as your sway and roll your body to the beat. One of his hands is nursing a drink, and the other is right where it should be, on you.

"I won 6k and have a cute guy buying me drinks and dancing with me. What do you think?" You giggle, turning in his arms to face him instead. The drinks stop you from overthinking and let you wrap your arms around his neck. Faces close. You want to kiss him so bad you're not drunk enough, though, and it's not the way you'd like to do it, either.

"Just making sure," he smiles down at you, hand on your lower back.

The night is long, yet with Han, it goes by so fast. Sooner than you'd prefer, he walks you to your car, no longer holding onto your waist but your hand. There are only a few stragglers left behind who refuse to acknowledge the night is over. You and Han are two of them.

Reaching your white and red, modified skyline Han opens the door for you. With one arm propped against the open door and the other extended onto the roof, Han cages you against your car. Before you get in, you turn to face him, finding the bravery to do something you've been thinking about all night.

"Thanks for tonight, Han. I had fun," you say softly, suddenly feeling shy.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds smoothly, brushing his fingers on your naked shoulder. The jacket you wore earlier was discarded somewhere in the bar. An excuse for Han to see you outside the races.

"Well, goodnight." Gathering every particle of bravery, you stand on your toes and peck his lips softly.

It's only a tiny, innocent kiss, yet it makes Han close his eyes. It happens too quickly for his liking. You have been growing bolder, bold enough to kiss him. He needs to step up his game.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, you close your car door and rev the engine. On the drive to your apartment, you squeal in excitement. Fingers ghost over your lips, replaying the small kiss over and over again.

Another chance at a race becomes available only days after your win. Men love to challenge women, especially those who are winning, much like you are.

They hate seeing you be successful, but it doesn't bother you in the least. It's another opportunity to win cash or a car, which you can use for parts and sell what you don't need.

As you roll up to the starting line, Han approaches your window, leaning down to duck his head in.

"Come to give me a good luck kiss?" You speak playfully, lips turned up into a smile.

You two haven't talked about what happened at the club and have continued to act as you usually do. He's been more touchy with you, though, often trying to find a way to be close to you. Being the lovestruck fool you are, you've encouraged it, finding those ways to let him be close.

"We both know you don't need luck. You've got this in the bag, Angel." Han speaks encouragingly, "Tell you what, though. You win, and it's yours."

"Making me earn it, I see," you laugh, shaking your head. "Alright, you've got a deal. See you on the other side."

Han is confident you'll win. With a last reassuring tap on your door, he steps back, finding his place in the crowd.

Your opponent finally drives up to the starting line, sending you an unnecessary nasty look you laugh at. The flag girl stands between the two cars, her dress leaving nothing to the imagination. You respect it. They are a lot more confident than you are in that department.

You are off when the word 'go' falls from her lips. You knew this track by heart, having raced it so many times. You knew exactly when to hit the gas and when to press the brake to get the car to swerve. Han's full attention is on your race, and when your car disappears to another level, he takes the elevator up to the top floor, where the finish line is. Watching you race is interesting. You always come up with ways to confuse your opponents.

With a bag of chips, he anxiously waits for your victory. Regardless of your ability to race and win, your races make him nervous. He cares about you, and so many things can go wrong.

The noisy crowd gets louder as the sound of tires screeching gets closer. In seconds, your car swerves onto the top floor, again marking you as the victor. There's not a scratch or bump in your car. Your opponent arrives shortly after with dents and long scratches in his paint.

The crowd cheers loudly for you, coming up to you to congratulate you and tell you how cool you looked. Your opponent comes up to you and hands you his keys with a scowl. You shrug it off. A deal is a deal.

Winning leaves you on a high, a feeling of invincibility wrapping around you. You've learned to control it because that feeling caused a big loss years ago. You get distracted by the people around you and forget Han's promise. It's funny because it was the only thing running through your head while you raced.

"Good job out there," Han says, catching up to you later in the night once the hype died down.

"Why, thank you!" You chirp, closing the hood of your car and leaning back to sit on it.

"I believe I made a promise," Han mentions, stepping close to you until you're face to face, only a few inches between the two of you. "You did," you nod, biting your lip.

Han notices this, bringing a hand up to cup your face, his thumb tugging your lip loose from the tight hold of your teeth. The other wraps around your waist, pulling you close. You slide on the warm metal of your car, placing a hand on his chest to brace yourself as Han settles between your legs.

"I'm a man of my word," he whispers, finally leaning down to press his eager lips against yours. Han is greedy for many things, and your lips are one of them. Ever since that night at the club, he's wanted to smash his lips against yours, to feel you close, taste you.

Your eyes instantly flutter close, fisting Han's shirt in your hand as if afraid he'll pull away too quickly. The kiss starts slowly as you both test the waters, but it soon becomes not enough. Han tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

It's an electric shock that consumes him and doesn't let him go. This is the result of Han holding himself back, and you made it worse when you gave him a taste the other night.

Han slips a hand under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. You gasp against his lips, arching your back as his cold fingers catch you by surprise. It serves as an opportunity for Han, his tongue pushing past your pouty lips, savoring the moment.

You gave into him, offering everything you have in exchange for this moment. His warmth wraps around you, burning you from the inside out. The need to breathe makes itself present too soon and becomes far more demanding than the need for each other's lips.

Han pulls away, your bottom lip between his teeth. You're breathless, as if you ran a marathon. You feel lightheaded, intoxicated by Han, who continues to peck your lips softly. He might be addicted already. The tips of his fingers draw soothing circles on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.

"So this is what winning feels like," you breathe out, smoothing Han's shirt with your palms. A futile way to hide their shakiness.

Han laughs, pressing his face against your neck and leaving a fleeting kiss behind. "Appears so, Angel."

A perk of being Han's friend is using his garage whenever you want. The days of paying for a spot to fix your car in a stranger's garage are far in the past. At the moment, you've spent the most part of the afternoon upgrading your car. The car you won on your last race sits beside yours with the hood popped open as you switched around pieces. He had quality parts, and his driving still sucked.

Twinkie, Earl, and the others are scattered around the large garage, working on different things and chattering. You had purposefully picked a spot away from them so you wouldn't get distracted. With work, your time is limited.

Han is on the second floor, leaning against the railing and pretending to watch the first floor and what they are doing. In reality, he is watching you closely.

You're bent over the hood of the car, working on unscrewing a tight bolt, cursing at the man who installed it initially. It's a sight straight out of his dreams. Your Nike sweatpants hung low on your hips, framing your ass perfectly. If he focused, he'd see the dimples on your lower back. His mind ran wild at the thought of pressing his thumbs against them while taking you from behind.

It's been a while since he's slept around. He cut himself off when he realized his feelings for you. What was the point of sleeping around if he wouldn't be satisfied? Those girls weren't you. They were temporary relief. Now, his pants tighten at anything you do. It's like he's seventeen again and unable to keep it in his pants.

He followed the curve of your ass to your arched back and the cropped shirt you wore. The matching crew neck sweater you arrived in is discarded in your car due to the heat. The revealing shirt rose with each of your movements, revealing the band of your baby blue bra. You tug on it for the millionth time today, annoyed.

The strands of hair you curled to frame your face stick uncomfortably to your sweaty forehead. You regret not putting them back into the two braids that fell over your shoulders.

Han needed to rip his eyes away from you before the others noticed. He's been staring for too long, fantasizing about everything he could do to you. To Han, you looked even more beautiful than you did that night with your sparkly dress and makeup. A woman who knows her way around a car is instantly a hundred times more attractive in his eyes.

As he accidentally visualizes you taking his cock from that same exact position, car included, you groan and straighten up. "I need help," you whine to no one in particular. The bolt is not budging, no matter how hard you try.

Han snaps out of his fantasy and springs into action, quickly appearing by your side. You've bent over again, wrench in hand, to give it one more try before giving up. He leans beside you, a hand on your lower back for faux support.

"What's the matter, Angel?" He says softly, one hand propping him up as he looks at the machinery under the hood. It's better if he helps you. He can't continue listening to your whines and groans.

"I need to unscrew those," you point at the bolts giving you a hard time.

Han asks for the wrench in your hands, and you place it in his hand, annoyed. You don't need the help of a man to do this, but it's Han, so you'll take it. You watch him as he places the wrench around the bolt, his arm tenses, emphasizing his muscles hidden by the short-sleeved button-up he wore over a white wife-beater tank.

His hair fell around his eyes as he successfully unscrewed the bolts. Feminism died as you lustfully took in Han, biting your lip. 'What a man,' you thought. You would've instantly refused the help if he had been any other guy.

"There you go," Han says, handing you the wrench. When he spares you a glance, he laughs softly. Good to know he has the same effect you have on him.

"Whatever would I do without you," you purr, shooting him a mischievous smile, "You deserve a reward." That's what it has come to, silly excuses to kiss Han because you're just friends. Nothing more.

Han looks at your lips briefly before snapping back to your eyes. You grin at him, leaning closer to kiss him for his 'hard work.' You know that he's been watching you all this time; you saw it from the reflective surface of the toolbox. Seeing his quickness to help you makes you believe he enjoyed the show.

Your lips brush teasingly against his, and just before Han can grab the back of your neck to stop the teasing, a loud bang tears through the room. Both you and Han pull away to see where the sound comes from, but Han bangs his head on the car's hood in the process.

"What the hell was that?" Han yells, rubbing the back of his head. He's annoyed that he's been interrupted.

"Sorry! The motor I was working on fell!" Earl exclaims from the other side of the garage, unaware of the daggers Han is throwing him.

"Best I get back to work," you quietly say with a chuckle, taking the piece you needed out of the car to bring it to yours.

"Yeah," Han says simply, reluctantly leaving to do his own thing.

Each and everyone that's in Han's garage returns to their business after the noisy interruption. Twinkie turns on a radio, blasting music to drown out the silence and clanking of tools. You work without interruption for the next three hours, giving your car all the love it deserves.

You clean your hands free of the motor oil and grease and search for Han. Your work for today was done. Now that you took anything valuable from the car you won, you had to sell it. You figured Han could do that for you.

"Hey, are you busy?" You ask him, seeing him working on a part by his desk.

"Nah, what's up, Angel?" He questions, dropping the screwdriver in his hand to focus all his attention on you.

Leaning on the desk casually, you begin speaking, "After I replace the bumper and give it a new paint job, can you sell that car for me?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," glancing at the car, Han agrees. It's a popular car in the racing world, and as soon as he gets the word out he's selling it, many offers will pop up.

"You're the best, Han!" You beam at him, pushing yourself off the desk to return downstairs.

"Angel, wait," he calls after you. Being your friend has been fun, yet he needs more. You shouldn't have to come up with excuses to kiss him; you should be able to do it freely whenever you want.

"Yes, Han," you ask softly, tilting your head in question.

Standing up from the rolling chair, he approaches you, "Do you want to go on a date?"

A grin sneaks past your lips before you even process what he said. Instantly, you nod your head, "I'd love to." You could combust at that moment. Finally, after months of pining, Han asked you out.

"Let's go," he smiles, grabbing your hand and guiding you to his car.

"Wait, now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yes, unless you have something more important," he asks, teasing you.

"Nothing is more important, but I'm a mess," you shake your head hesitantly. You spent your afternoon working on cars, sweating, and getting covered in grease. You didn't think it would be in sweatpants when you pictured going on a date. Not to mention the state of your hair.

"No, you're not. If you must know, you've had me distracted all day," Han whispers the last part in your ear, trying to convince you even if it means giving himself away.

"Am I supposed to apologize?" You question, the corner of your lip curving into a sultry smile. You had been right all along.

"No, just agree to the date. Be spontaneous," Han bounces his eyebrows cutely.

"Let's do it," you sigh, hoping you won't regret it.

"Atta girl," Han smiles victoriously.

Han tries to remember the last time he had a proper date. Even with his ex, they just sort of happened. No date ever officially branded as such. It's why rather than asking you and waiting for the day to arrive, he decided to do it spontaneously. It leaves him no time to be nervous or to overthink things.

You slide your sweatshirt back on on the way out to shield yourself from the chilly Japanese night. Han opens the door to his car for you, shutting the door when you slip in. The drive is short as he takes you to a small family-owned sushi place he swears by.

"I'm surprised you eat more than chips and crackers," you joke with him as the food arrives, and he takes a bite.

"I definitely eat more than that," Han replies nonchalantly, referring to something else entirely. It's something you don't catch despite your dirty mind.

A discussion develops when you discover Han always orders the same thing in the restaurant. He's in Japan. He needs to throw himself into the culture and try new things.

Starting easy, you grab a piece of sushi from your plate, "You need to try this."

"I don't know," Han grimaces as he looks at the sushi held in your chopsticks.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth," you groan, gently placing the sushi roll in his mouth.

You watch him chew slowly, getting a feel for the new food. "It's good," he agrees, liking whatever you had ordered. It was delicious, actually.

"Better than yours, right?" You ask him, knowingly, pointing your chopsticks at him.

"Yes," he rolls his eyes, refusing to give you the satisfaction.

"Told you," you sing, grabbing both plates and placing them in the middle of the table. Now you could each grab from both and share your meals.

The date goes smoothly. It's a wonder why the two of you hadn't gone to dinner before today. You already know Han is attentive and funny but his wisdom surprises you. He's already lived through so much, more than an average person. Despite being a couple years older than you, he retains his youth. That may be why he appeals to a younger crowd as well.

"What was your life like growing up?" You ask him, taking a drink from your Coke. Han ordered another plate of sushi to share, the one you chose earlier.

"My upbringing wasn't the best," he shrugs, remembering his life in California as a teen. "I was always in trouble."

"Why does something tell me that you were the one causing the trouble," you say, narrowing your eyes.

"I definitely was," he chuckles, "But in the end, it brought me here, and I'm happy."

Han believes in the timing of life. He's been after Tokyo for so long. Before stepping foot in Tokyo, he had to go through the Dominican Republic, Rio, Germany, Shanghai, London, and many more places. It was supposed to happen that way, or he wouldn't have met you.

"I knew it," you sigh dramatically, "I've always been into bad boys."

"What about you, Angel?" He returns the question, curious about your past.

"I grew up in a normal Japanese family. My dad's a mechanic, my mom a nurse, and my sister a pain in the ass. I went to school for engineering and graduated with top honors," you tell him, reminiscing on your not-as-impressive past.

"You say that as if it's easy to graduate with top honors," Han chides you, to which you roll your eyes. "Why work retail? Doesn't engineering make you a lot more money?"

"Don't laugh, okay?" You point at Han. When he agrees not to laugh, you continue, "I wanted to be a Formula 1 racer when I was younger. My dad signed me up to participate in smaller competitions, and I was pretty damn good. My mom was totally against it and forced my dad and me to quit.

Fast forward, I'm in college, and engineering seemed like the way to go. Learned about street racing and figured that could be a way back into my dream. It's a foolish thought. The professionals spend years in proper circuits practicing and competing. No one comes with a background of illegal racing."

Han wasn't expecting that answer. He assumed you hated engineering and did it to appease your parents. He wonders why you thought he would laugh. Your dream is nothing to laugh at. Having witnessed your racing, you undoubtedly had the innate talent. "So retail?" He prompts, realizing you didn't answer the first question.

Snapping your fingers, you say, "Right! I figured I'd always have my degree. I'd rather spend my time having fun now; when the time comes, I'll return to that. I do like it, but I'm not ready to commit to a life of 9 to 5's. I prefer spending my time in the wee hours of the night racing. Since I can't be a Formula 1 racer, I'll be a street racer. Much cooler, anyways."

"That takes guts," Han tells you, "I'm glad you're doing it."

You give him a little shrug and a smile because you were too. Despite your childish dream dying when your mom forced you to quit, you're still happy with your life. Especially if you end up with a guy like Han.

Han, being a gentleman, pays for dinner. Before returning to the car, you stop by a convenience store for dessert. Han follows you buying snacks for himself. In search of something sweet, you find a shelf filled with Pocky. You grab the chocolate-covered ones with a plan in mind.

You and Han sit at a table outside the convenience store. It was getting late, so only a few people were around. You open the packet of Pocky, taking out a chocolate-covered stick.

"Have you ever played the Pocky game?" You ask, taking a bite of the treat.

"No. What is it?" Han looks at you curiously.

"Essentially, you grab one end of the Pocky stick, and I grab the other. We have to eat it, but if one of us pulls away, they lose," you respond simply, hiding the game's purpose.

"That sounds awfully like Lady and the Tramp," Han mentions, catching onto your intentions.

Offering him a stick, you say, "Want to play?"

Han smiles at you and grabs the Pocky stick placing the biscuit end between his teeth. You hold the chocolate-covered end and tap his hand to start. You both take it slow, Han opting to stay still as you near his lips. You tilt your head when you're close to his lips, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you when only a small piece is left.

You smile into the chocolate-flavored kiss. If you wanted to kiss Han, you could've done it without so many sneaky plans or excuses, but it wouldn't be as fun.

"So, who won?" Han asks when you pull away.

"Does it matter?" You cheekily say, pulling him back in for another kiss.

There's no flaw in your reasoning. Han pulls you close, lifting your legs to lie in his lap. You spend more time than you care to admit making out outside the convenience store.

Han offers to drive you to your apartment since your car needs to be finished. Throughout the drive, his hand is laced with yours in your lap. Small talk flows between you as you continue to learn about each other.

Smoke coming from your apartment building cuts that conversation short. Firefighters stand outside the building, spraying water into the source of the fire. Han steps out of the car with you to ask anyone what is going on.

Noticing the building manager across the street, you approach him. He quickly blurts out all the information he knows. You're one of many of the tenants to approach him. "There's a fire on the sixth floor. We don't know the damage yet. I understand this is your residence, but you need somewhere else to say for the next few days while we asses the damage and inspect the building."

"What am I going to do?" You groan, covering your face with your hands. You worry about where you'll stay and your stuff in your apartment. You have important documents in there.

"You can stay with me," Han offers without a hint of hesitation.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose." It's nice of Han to offer you a place to stay, but would it be too much at this stage of their situationship. Last thing you want is to push boundaries.

"You're not imposing. Let me help you," Han insists, grabbing your hand to rub soothing circles in it. It's a given he has feelings for you, but before that, you are his friend, and he's not going to leave you out on the streets or sleeping in your car.

Han offers you calming words on the way to his apartment. Your apartment is on the twelfth floor and the other side of the fire. Chances are that your stuff will probably be fine. Whether the building will close for renovations is another matter entirely.

His apartment is just another level to the building he owns. Its entrance is on a more private side. Inside, it's very clean and organized, a surprise since you expect most guys to be messy. Picture frames and knick knacks are scattered throughout the space, giving you more of a glimpse into Han's life.

It's quiet between the two of you but comfortable. Han is giving you time to process what you saw in your building. He offers you his shower if you'd like, and when you brought up you didn't have any clothes, he searched for a clean t-shirt and sweatpants you could borrow from him.

A shower is just what you need as you let the water cascade down your body. Fire aside, it has been a great day, even before Han asked you on a date. Hope fills your being at the prospect of soon beginning a relationship with Han. So far, everything points out it can happen. There haven't been any red flags or hesitation from him.

You change into the oversized t-shirt Han picked out for you and the spare pair of underwear you always carry in your bag. Smart girls know to carry a spare in case of emergencies. You debate about wearing the sweatpants he left for you but choose against it. The t-shirt covers enough.

You shyly make your way out of the bathroom in search of Han. You find him in the bedroom, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket. "The bed is yours," he mentions, eyes briefly trailing your naked legs.

"Where will you sleep?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. If anyone has to sleep on the couch, it should be you.

"I'll take the couch," he responds, as you expected.

"Han, stop being a gentleman and get in bed with me," you say, taking the pillow from his grasp and placing it back on the top of the bed.

He offers you an 'Are you sure?' look, and you nod confidently. He doesn't need to be told twice. Han steps out of the bedroom for a few minutes and grabs a shower. Taking that time, you get on the bed to get comfortable, it's soft, and you sink into it.

You're snoozing off when he returns to the room. Han carefully peels back the sheets and gets under them. Feeling the bed dip, you turn to the side to face him.

Your sleepy mood makes you cuddle up to him without much thought. The smell of his soap invades your senses. Han naturally accepts it, throwing an arm around your waist and hugging you closer, legs intertwined. He kisses the top of your head, finding comfort in the position.

Thankful doesn't begin to cover how you feel. There's this overwhelming sense of security that comes with Han. There is something about him that makes you trust him. Deep down, you know he wouldn't intentionally hurt you.

"How are you feeling?" Han checks up on you before you fall asleep.

"I'm okay. I hope none of my things got damaged," you mumble into his chest, pressing a kiss into it afterward. "Thank you for everything, Han. Your help with the car, the date, letting me invade your bed," you finish with a soft laugh.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds truthfully. If he can help you in any way, he will. Sleep consumes both quickly after, and it becomes the best night you've both had in a while.

The following day you're the first to wake. Han's arms are around your waist, and you feel his breath tickle the back of your neck. He's warm, and you just want to sink into it even more. Your need to pee pries you out of his embrace, though.

As carefully as possible, you slip out of his loose grasp and head to the bathroom. Han had picked out a toothbrush for you the night before, which you're thankful for. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you cook breakfast for Han as a 'thank you' for his hospitality.

You pick the ingredients you need from his fridge, careful not to make too much noise. Your progress is slower than you prefer as you get used to the kitchen layout and localize everything you might need.

Soon enough, you drop pancake batter into the pan, and while that cooks, you scramble eggs with veggies. Since it's his kitchen, you assume he'll like what you make. It's his ingredients, after all.

Just after finishing the last batch of pancakes, you hear the patter of Han's feet entering the kitchen. You turn to glance at him quickly and greet him, "Good morning! I made you breakfast, sit!"

"You didn't have to do that," Han says, coming up behind you. He traps you between his body and the stove as if having you close last night wasn't enough.

"Yes, I did! You let me stay here, borrow clothes, sleep in your bed," you flip the pancakes as you count all the nice things he's done in less than 24 hours.

Humming, unconvinced, Han kisses your cheek and thanks you. It sends a tingle between your legs as his voice is raspy and deep from sleep. Your cheeks flare up, betraying you as always.

Han follows your orders and sits by the kitchen table, waiting till you're done to begin eating. With that time in his hands, he observes you. You're wearing the t-shirt he loaned you, which swallowed your frame. Each time you flipped a pancake, it rose slightly to reveal the light green fabric of your panties. Han soaked the sight in and wondered if this was what waited for him in the near future.

His eyes continue trailing down to your thick thighs. He wouldn't mind being trapped between them. Lower and lower, his gaze went from your pretty legs to your varnished toes. Back up, it went as you turned off the stove and approached the table. You weren't wearing a bra under the t-shirt, as your nipples poked through the thin fabric.

Han's glad he didn't notice these things last night, or he wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Spreading his legs, he tried to hide the hard-on he was sporting. None the wiser, you sit on the empty chair near him and tell him to eat up.

Shooing the dirty thoughts from his mind, Han thanks you one more time and digs in. It's a lovely morning, with light chatter bouncing between you. Han praises your cooking every chance he gets and even finishes the pancakes you left over but not before drenching them in more syrup. When both of you are done, you clear the plates and place them in the sink to wash.

"Angel, come 'ere," Han calls from behind you.

Mindlessly you walk over to him, wondering what he wants. Han grabs your waist, pulling you to his lap. "Han, what are you doing? I have to do the dishes!" You squeal, holding onto him, afraid he'd let you fall.

"No, you don't," he speaks softly, one hand cupping your cheek.

"I don't?" you prompt, leaning into his touch.

"Let me properly thank you," he offers, lips chasing yours. Han can't contain himself any longer. You've done a number on him, strutting around his kitchen in your underwear. He wants you. He needs you.

You lean into the kiss as you always do, pouring everything you have into it. Tasting the coffee on his tongue, you bring your hand around the back of his neck, softly tugging the long strands of hair. Han groans into the kiss, having missed that sensation.

Repositioning yourself, you straddle Han in the rickety kitchen chair. You feel his hands all over your body, trailing down your back to grasp your ass in his palms. Every so often, you'd resurface to breathe but dip down again and again to continue kissing him.

Han feels himself harden as you rub your center against him deliciously. It's clear as day you want him just as much as he wants you.

"Want to spoil me and fuck me?" You breathe heavily, kissing Han's neck.

"So bold," Han chuckles, his hands wandering under the t-shirt to feel your warm skin, his nails faintly scratching your back, sending shivers down your spine. "Six months ago, you would've been too scared to ask me that."

Six months ago, you would've been too scared to kiss him on the cheek, but you've come a long way. As time passes, you realize your feelings are not one-sided because Han means every word he speaks to you despite his taunting nature. Each and every complement is honest.

"I got tired of waiting around for you," you bite back, nipping his neck and sucking a pretty bruise on it.

Han hisses at the momentary sting, "I thought I was just a friend?"

You laugh sarcastically, picking your head up to stare at him, "I don't let friends kiss me or grope my ass."

"What does that make me then?" Han raises an eyebrow, cheekily squeezing your ass as a smirk forms on his lips.

"Special," you shrug, lips pouty and swollen.

"Because?" He wants to hear you say that you feel something for him. It's a last hurrah on giving you a hard time for fun.

You realize it's time to be honest and come out with it. You stopped hiding your feelings a while ago. Hell, you even asked Han to fuck you. All that's left is to admit your feeling out loud. "Because I have feelings for you, Han Lue," you whisper, brushing the hair that threatens to fall over his eyes.

"That's all you had to say," Han murmurs, catching your lips in a passionate kiss.

The heat rises with each passing moment. Your feelings have now come to a boil and bubbled over. Han picks you up easily and sits you on the kitchen table. He leaves his touch on your naked back to trace the outside of your thighs. It's time to give you precisely what you asked for and what he has been fantasizing about for far too long.

Grabbing the elastic band of your panties, Han slides them down the curve of your ass and your thighs until they are off. He throws them somewhere in the room, the information unimportant for now.

"Han, please," you whine, spreading your legs wider and giving him access to your most private part. You beg between kisses to feel his touch where you need it most.

"So impatient, Angel." Han jabs lightly as his right-hand touches the inside of your thigh. The pads of his fingers brush over your thighs repeatedly, nearing the apex more and more with each stroke.

You gasp as he finally dips a finger into your folds, gathering the slick that formed to spread it around your bundle of nerves. You gasp, breaking the kiss and throwing your head back.

Han sucks on your neck and collarbones as you moan into the air. Slipping a finger into your tight walls, he groans, thinking about how they'll feel around his hard cock.

"Fuck, Han, feels so good," you sigh when Han adds another digit into your soaking core and presses on your clit with his thumb.

"I didn't realize I made you this wet," he says into your neck as you grind your hips into his hand. You must've been wanting this for as long as he has.

"Liar," you respond, staring at him with hooded eyes. The nights you've touched yourself while thinking about him are many. The real thing is a million times better.

Han watches you intently, catching every little reaction you have to his touch. The moans and whines echo through the room and are music to his ears. Without a doubt, there's a wet patch in his boxers as his tip leaks precum from the erotic sight in front of him.

Your walls clenching around him alert him you're close, and promptly after you make it known as you beg him not to stop, except he doesn't listen and stops just as you're about to cum.

"Why did you stop?" You complain, eyes wide in desperate need.

"Want you to cum on my tongue," he responds, stealing a quick kiss before he kneels on the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he scoots you closer to the edge.

His words shoot another current down your legs, no doubt making more of a mess. You wait with bated breath as Han kisses the inside of your thighs, making eye contact with you as he delves into your pussy.

He licks up from your hole up to your clit. You grasp his hair with one hand, pulling the t-shirt up with the other to better look at him going down on you. Your eyes roll involuntarily when Han wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His long fingers find your opening once more, sliding in effortlessly.

You try to maintain eye contact with Han through it all. If his hair fell on his eyes, you'd quickly brush it back, not wanting to miss his lustful gaze. It spurred Han on to see you crumbling over him, biting your lip as you tried to hide the pretty cries that wanted to fall from your lips.

Han stops licking your clit and slows his thrusting fingers each time you near your orgasm. Time and time again, he repeats this when you're near the edge. Only when your arousal coats his hand he keeps his pace, and as you whine out, 'gonna cum, don't stop,' he slips his tongue into your pussy, tasting your cum directly from the source.

He makes a great example of what his nose can do as it brushes over your clit while he tongue fucks you. You trap Han between your legs as your pussy clenches, your orgasm coming in waves. As you relax back onto the kitchen table, Han continues to lick your puffy center, being careful with your sensitive nub.

When he stands, you fist his t-shirt, smashing your lips together, tasting your essence. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Han pants. You nod eagerly and squeal when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist.

You leave a trail of kisses on his neck as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once there, you both fall on the bed, Han hovering over you. He tugs on your t-shirt, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, this has to come off."

Without the shirt, he can admire your naked body. A lone finger slides down from your neck to your sternum. It slides to your side near the curve of your left breast, where a small sakura flower is tattooed.

"This is my new favorite thing about you," Han softly says, noticing you staring at him.

The tattoo was an impulsive thing to do. You had wanted a tattoo for years but never knew what to get. After your last breakup two years ago, you got the little flower instead of getting bangs and dying your hair. It has no real meaning to you. It's just a cute flower.

"You're the first to see it since I got it done," you tell him, a laugh bubbling from your lips as his touch on your ribs tickles.

"And I hope it stays that way," he responds. It's an unspoken promise. He wants you all to himself for the foreseeable future.

His finger continues the trajectory down your tummy, lightly going over your belly button before it traces over your mound and dips to touch your clit.

You gasp at the surge of pleasure as your clit remains sensitive from his previous actions. "Gotta say it's not fair that I'm the only one naked," you moan when Han continues to circle your nub.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Han incites you to see what you'll do.

Any remaining shyness you had is long gone as lust replaces it. You kneel in front of Han, who leans back to watch you. Your chest is close to his face, so when you lean closer to grab the hem of his shirt, he sucks one of your nipples.

"Han," you whine, arching your back," "Stop distracting me."

Ignoring his mouth on you, you grab his shirt and pull it off. Successfully making him stop his attack on your breasts. You peck his lips and kiss down his jaw.

You take your time kissing his toned chest and stomach. You wish to memorize every part of him. "You're so handsome, Han," you purr, glancing up at him.

Those simple words that spilled from your mouth made his heart flutter. Han is used to being the one to dish out compliments and praise the women he's with. To have you say that is like a breath of fresh air, and he can't wait to have more.

"Fuck, Angel," he groans, grasping your chin. You kiss his palm with a smile that's equally angelic and devilish.

You want to peel two more layers off Han's body and decide to do it all at once. Grasping the band of his pants and boxers, you slowly pull them down, building anticipation.

His cock springs out of its confines, landing on Han's abdomen. You don't hide your curious gaze as you take in his cock. It's so big it makes you bite your lip in anticipation. The tip is a dark pink as it drips with precum.

After you remove his pants entirely, you grasp his cock, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Han breathes out through his nose, a futile attempt to keep his cool. A string of saliva drips from your lips, coating his hard length. Each stroke you made caused a bead of pre to spill from him.

You take it as an invitation to taste him, wrapping your lips around his head your tongue licks the beads of white.

Han does the impossible not to push your head down to take all of him. The thought is present, though. You've barely teased him compared to how he teased you, but Han can no longer resist.

"I need you," Han groans, calling out your name, not the nickname you've been donned for the past three years.

You don't take it for granted. Hearing your name sends you into overdrive. Han pulls you up to kiss you and lies you down on the top of the bed. He comfortably gets between your legs that hug his waist to bring him closer. His cock brushes your wet pussy, and you both hiss at the sensation. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of having Han fill you entirely.

"You ready, Angel?" Han asks you. One arm holding him up and the other wrapped around your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze. Time stops ticking at that moment. It's just you and Han wrapped in each other.

"I've been ready for the past month, Han. Fuck me, please," you plead quietly, your fingertips running up and down his back.

"Just because you said, please." Han lines his cock up to your entrance and pushes past your lips into your warm center. Relief floods through the both of you, but it soon dissipates, and it's replaced by waves of unfiltered lust.

Han starts fucking into you deep, at the perfect pace. Your eyes involuntarily close as you feel Han's cock stretching you open and filling you like never before. Han kisses your temple and releases sexy moans into your ear with words of encouragement.

'Such a tight pussy just for me.'

'Taking me so good, Angel.'

'Can't get enough of you.'

You echo his words, encouraging him to keep fucking you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on to anything, and your heels dig into his lower back. The closeness between you is intoxicating, your scents mixing and becoming one, his hair ticking your face, his warm skin heating up yours.

Han slows the pace momentarily, leaning back on his knees to see your pretty cunt taking his cock. He wants to commit to memory how your pussy spreads to make way for his cock, a white ring on the base of his cock, and how your little clit is exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

The other girls he's slept with only got part of his attention and dedication. He didn't mean to make a huge impression. He only did his job, often choosing to lie back and let them do as they pleased with him.

With you, it's different. He wants to give you his all and leave a great impression. He'll do all the work; you can just take it if that's what you want. That's the difference between you and the other girls. He lived to spoil you.

Meanwhile, you fall apart under him, moaning incoherent phrases he can barely make out. He loves hearing them, though. You reach for Han's hand as he increases his pace and grips it tightly.

Han slips his cock out of you, wanting to make his fantasy a reality. You shudder at the empty feeling and whine, "No, don't stop."

"Come on, Angel. Get on your knees," Han coo's at you, kissing your pouty lips. "Promise you'll cum soon."

Han positions you on your knees, your back arched as your tits rub against the bed sheets. You huff through it all, desperate to have him pounding into you again. He smacks your ass when you wiggle it to get him to do what you want.

Han enters you in one smooth motion, this position amplifying your pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside of you more directly.

"Han!" You cry out, fisting the sheets underneath you.

"I'm right here, Angel," Han breathes, snapping his hips rhythmically.

Just as he visualized, he grabs your hips in his large hands and digs his thumbs into the dimples on your back. With a tight hold, he thrusts into you unrelentingly, and you push back onto him just as eagerly. Your cries are muffled by the pillow you're hugging to your face.

Your pussy swallows him with each thrust, even as it clenches to prepare for orgasm. He can't hold back any longer as his balls clench with each faltering thrust, and your walls squeeze him tighter than ever.

" 'm cumming," you squeal, your legs tense up and shake. Your walls contract and release in a rhythmic motion that sends Han over the edge, your name on the tip of his tongue.

Han pulls out of you, helping you get back onto a comfortable position, and lies beside you, catching his breath. He turns to look at you, and you do the same. You can't hold his gaze long as you furiously blush.

Han laughs, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers together. "You can't get shy now!"

"I can't control it!" You exclaim, hiding your face with the same pillow as earlier.

The rest of the day is spent in bed. Han ignores his daily responsibilities and stays in, getting lost in your touch and making promises he hopes to keep.

One Year and a Half Later...

You drive up to the empty parking complex. It's similar to the one you spend your nights on. Driving up the floors, you find Han where he told you he'd be. He leans against the familiar orange car, a bag of chips in his hands. A nice lather jacket covers his arms, making you smile when you remember how he got it in the first place.

"Hey, you wanted to meet me here?" You question, getting out of your car.

Approaching him, you kiss his salty lips and wait for an explanation regarding the random meet-up spot. In the entire year and a half of you dating, he's never asked you such a weird request.

"You feeling up to race?" Han asks you, holding your hand in his.

It's been years since the two of you met, and for the same amount of time, people have been pining you two to race. He denied every request, including the ones you threw every once in a while.

"It's about time," you exclaim, excitement filling your body. "What's at stake?"

There is something up Han's sleeve. You know that much. There is something he wants from you if he suddenly wants to race you. He could just ask. You'll give him everything he desires. You play along, though.

"Winner gets the other's car," he offers, pushing himself off the car to wrap his arms around you to hug you, his thumb soothingly brushing over the spot where your tattoo is. He last saw you when you left for your new engineering job early in the morning.

"You're willing to sacrifice your car?" You chuckle, implying you are going to win.

"It's only fair," he shrugs, kissing your cheek.

With one last peck, he lets you go and gets in his car. You follow his lead, lining up your car to the imaginary starting line. Han sets up a timer, and once it went off, both cars lurched forward at high speeds.

You focus on the race, forgetting it's Han you're competing with. You've been dying to go against him for so long, desperate to find out who was the better racer between the two.

As expected, Han makes it hard for you. The race is neck and neck as you drift up the floors of the building. Whenever Han takes the lead, you find a way to get ahead. You see the end near, and Han threatens to surpass you, but with one last boost, you keep your position, winning the race.

You leap out of your car, feeling the high of the race. No one has kept you on your toes for so long. It's a satisfying win. Han walks out of his car more calmly, smiling, happy to see you celebrate. It didn't matter to him that you were better. You deserved it.

"I can't believe I won," you exclaim, jumping into his arms as he spins you around.

"I can, and I'm so proud," Han says, kissing all over your face.

The race's prize is forgotten as you celebrate, but Han reminds you by handing you his keys, "A deal is a deal." You take the keys from him as a mere formality. You're not taking Han's precious car. Racing him is enough for you.

The weight of the keys is strange to you. They tend to be much heavier. Opening your palm to inspect them, you see that his keychains and spare keys are missing. In their place is a diamond ring.

"Han, what-" you stutter, whipping up to look at him.

"My car is yours. I figured I could be yours too. Will you marry me?" Han takes the keys from you, getting down on one knee and removing the ring from the holder.

From all the possible scenarios you had in mind from this clandestine meeting, Han's proposal was not one of them. Nevertheless, you have your answer instantly.

"Yes," you nod, choking back a sob.

Han grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It's a perfect fit, just like Han. You drop down in front of Han, ignoring the dirty floor, to kiss and hug him.

Han kisses away your tears, a smile permanently etched on his face. He never thought he'd see the day he would settle down, but this past year has been near perfection with you, and he doesn't see himself with anyone else.

"Did you let me win to set this up?" You ask him later that night. His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you lie on his chest.

"No," he answers simply, kissing your head.

"You let me win," you then say assertively.

"No, I did not, Angel," he answers again, hiding his smile in your hair.

"I don't believe you. We have to race again," you tell him, lifting your head to glance at him.

"I don't have a reason to. I've got everything I want right here. Take the win, Angel," Han tells you sweetly, his fingers playing with your ring.

"For now," you huff, settling back down and cuddling up to him.

Fin.

thank you for reading! i didn't mean for it to be this long although i'm sure you guys are not complaining!

this was so much fun to write. guys like i am in love with han lue, i've spent hours on tiktok watching han lue and sung kang edits. i need help! tell me i'm not the only one like this!

requests are still open ❤️

#request #han lue imagine #fanfiction #fast and furious fanfiction #fast and furious #han lue fanfiction #han seoul oh #han lue x reader #han lue request #han lue #han lue imagines #han x reader #han x you #han lue smut #smut

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mariacallous · 8 months ago

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This is a gift article

“In normal times, Americans don’t think much about democracy. Our Constitution, with its guarantees of free press, speech, and assembly, was written more than two centuries ago. Our electoral system has never failed, not during two world wars, not even during the Civil War. Citizenship requires very little of us, only that we show up to vote occasionally. Many of us are so complacent that we don’t bother. We treat democracy like clean water, something that just comes out of the tap, something we exert no effort to procure.

“But these are not normal times.”

I wrote those words in October 2020, at a time when some people feared voting, because they feared contagion. The feeling that “these are not normal times” also came from rumors about what Donald Trump’s campaign might do if he lost that year’s presidential election. Already, stories that Trump would challenge the validity of the results were in circulation. And so it came to pass.

This time, we are living in a much different world. The predictions of what might happen on November 5 and in the days that follow are not based on rumors. On the contrary, we can be absolutely certain that an attempt will be made to steal the 2024 election if Kamala Harris wins. Trump himself has repeatedly refused to acknowledge the results of the 2020 election. He has waffled on and evaded questions about whether he will accept the outcome in 2024. He has hired lawyers to prepare to challenge the results.

Trump also has a lot more help this time around from his own party. Strange things are happening in state legislatures: a West Virginia proposal to “not recognize an illegitimate presidential election” (which could be read as meaning not recognize the results if a Democrat wins); a last-minute push, ultimately unsuccessful, to change the way Nebraska allocates its electoral votes. Equally weird things are happening in state election boards. Georgia’s has passed a rule requiring that all ballots be hand-counted, as well as machine-counted, which, if not overturned, will introduce errors—machines are more accurate—and make the process take much longer. A number of county election boards have in recent elections tried refusing to certify votes, not least because many are now populated with actual election deniers, who believe that frustrating the will of the people is their proper role. Multiple people and groups are also seeking mass purges of the electoral rolls.

Anyone who is closely following these shenanigans—or the proliferation of MAGA lawsuits deliberately designed to make people question the legitimacy of the vote even before it is held—already knows that the challenges will multiply if the presidential vote is as close as polls suggest it could be. The counting process will be drawn out, and we may not know the winner for many days. If the results come down to one or two states, they could experience protests or even riots, threats to election officials, and other attempts to change the results.

This prospect can feel overwhelming: Many people are not just upset about the possibility of a lost or stolen election, but oppressed by a sensation of helplessness. This feeling—I can’t do anything; my actions don’t matter—is precisely the feeling that autocratic movements seek to instill in citizens, as Peter Pomerantsev and I explain in our recent podcast, Autocracy in America. But you can always do something. If you need advice about what that might be, here is an updated citizen’s guide to defending democracy.

Help Out on Voting Day—In Person

First and foremost: Register to vote, and make sure everyone you know has done so too, especially students who have recently changed residence. The website Vote.gov has a list of the rules in all 50 states, in multiple languages, if you or anyone you know has doubts. Deadlines have passed in some states, but not all of them.

After that, vote—in person if you can. Because the MAGA lawyers are preparing to question mail-in and absentee ballots in particular, go to a polling station if at all possible. Vote early if you can, too: Here is a list of early-voting rules for each state.

Secondly, be prepared for intimidation or complications. As my colleague Stephanie McCrummen has written, radicalized evangelical groups are organizing around the election. One group is planning a series of “Kingdom to the Capitol” rallies in swing-state capitals, as well as in Washington, D.C.; participants may well show up near voting booths on Election Day. If you or anyone you know has trouble voting, for any reason, call 866-OUR-VOTE, a hotline set up by Election Protection, a nonpartisan national coalition led by the Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights Under Law.

If you have time to do more, then join the effort. The coalition is looking for lawyers, law students, and paralegals to help out if multiple, simultaneous challenges to the election occur at the county level. Even people without legal training are needed to serve as poll monitors, and of course to staff the hotline. In the group’s words, it needs people to help voters with “confusing voting rules, outdated infrastructure, rampant misinformation, and needless obstacles to the ballot box.”

If you live in Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, Ohio, Pennsylvania, or Wisconsin, you can also volunteer to help All Voting Is Local, an organization that has been on the ground in those states since before 2020 and knows the rules, the officials, the potential threats. It, too, is recruiting legal professionals, as well as poll monitors. If you don’t live in one of those states, you can still make a financial contribution.

Wherever you live, consider working at a polling station. All Voting Is Local can advise you if you live in one of its eight states, but you can also call your local board of elections. More information is available at PowerThePolls.org, which will send you to the right place. The site explains that “our democracy depends on ordinary people who make sure every election runs smoothly and everyone's vote is counted—people like you.”

Wherever you live, it’s also possible to work for one of the many get-out-the-vote campaigns. Consider driving people to the voting booth. Find your local group by calling the offices of local politicians, members of Congress, state legislators, and city councillors. The League of Women Voters and the NAACP are just two of many organizations that will be active in the days before the election, and on the day itself. Call them to ask which local groups they recommend. Or, if you are specifically interested in transporting Democrats, you can volunteer for Rideshare2Vote.

If you know someone who needs a ride, then let them know that the ride-hailing company Lyft is once again working with a number of organizations, including the NAACP, the National Council of Negro Women, Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, the National Council on Aging, Asian and Pacific Islander American Vote, and the Hispanic Federation. Contact any of them for advice about your location. Also try local religious congregations, many of whom organize rides to the polls.

Smaller gestures are needed too. If you see a long voting line, or if you find yourself standing in one, report it to Pizza to the Polls and the group will send over some free pizza to cheer everyone up.

Join Something Now

Many people have long been preparing for a challenge to the election and a battle in both the courts and the media. You can help them by subscribing to the newsletters of some of the organizations sponsoring this work, donating money, and sharing their information with others. Don’t wait until the day after the vote to find groups you trust: If a crisis happens, you will not want to be scouring the internet for information.

Among the organizations to watch is the nonpartisan Protect Democracy, which has already launched successful lawsuits to secure voting rights in several states. Another is the States United Democracy Center, which collaborates with police as well as election workers to make sure that elections are safe. Three out of four election officials say that threats to them have increased; in some states, the danger will be just as bad the day after the election as it was the day before, or maybe even worse.

The Brennan Center for Justice, based at NYU, researches and promotes concrete policy proposals to improve democracy, and puts on public events to discuss them. Its lawyers and experts are preparing not only for attempts to steal the election, but also, in the case of a Trump victory, for subsequent assaults on the Constitution or the rule of law.

For voters who lean Democratic, Democracy Docket also offers a wealth of advice, suggestions, and information. The group’s lawyers have been defending elections for many years. For Republicans, Republicans for the Rule of Law is a much smaller group, but one that can help keep people informed.

Talk With People

In case of a real disaster—an inconclusive election or an outbreak of violence—you will need to find a way to talk about it, including a way to speak with friends or relatives who are angry and have different views. In 2020, I published some suggestions from More in Common, a research group that specializes in the analysis of political polarization, for how to talk with people who disagree with you about politics, as well as those who are cynical and apathetic. I am repeating here the group’s three dos and three don’ts:

•Do talk about local issues: Americans are bitterly polarized over national issues, but have much higher levels of trust in their state and local officials. •Do talk about what your state and local leaders are doing to ensure a safe election. •Do emphasize our shared values—the large majority of Americans still feel that democracy is preferable to all other forms of government—and our historical ability to deliver safe and fair elections, even in times of warfare and social strife. •Don’t, by contrast, dismiss people’s concerns about election irregularities out of hand. Trump and his allies have repeatedly raised the specter of widespread voter fraud in favor of Democrats. Despite a lack of evidence for this notion, many people may sincerely believe that this kind of electoral cheating is real. •Don’t rely on statistics to make your case, because people aren’t convinced by them; talk, instead, about what actions are being taken to protect the integrity of the vote. •Finally, don’t inadvertently undermine democracy further: Emphasize the strength of the American people, our ability to stand up to those who assault democracy. Offer people a course of action, not despair.

As a Last Resort, Protest

As in 2020, protest remains a final option. A lot of institutions, including some of those listed above, are preparing to step in if the political system fails. But if they all fail as well, remember that it’s better to protest in a group, and in a coordinated, nonviolent manner. Many of the organizations I have listed will be issuing regular statements right after the election; follow their advice to find out what they are doing. Remember that the point of a protest is to gain supporters—to win others over to your cause—and not to make a bad situation worse. Large, peaceful gatherings will move and convince people more than small, angry ones. Violence makes you enemies, not friends.

Finally, don’t give up: There is always another day. Many of your fellow citizens also want to protect not just the electoral system but the Constitution itself. Start looking for them now, volunteer to help them, and make sure that they, and we, remain a democracy where power changes hands peacefully.

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half-dead-writer · 9 months ago

Note

Wallace wells x transmasc bottom with a praise kink PLSPLSPLSSS

I was this 🤏 close to making it myself so YES OFC!! I tried my best writing Wallace but I feel like I could've made him better :( I included reader wearing a binder instead of having a top surgery because surprisingly there's not a lot fics about that! that was hell of a write, straight 4 days of writing, my longest fic yet - there may be some errors along the way, I really wanted to finally finish it lmao anyways, enjoy!!

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

A drunk escapade with you makes Wallace rethink his opinion on Sparks

character: Wallace Wells (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off)

words: ~7,6k

reader: transmasc (with a praise kink)

warnings: drunk sex, reader smokes and didn't have a top surgery yet

𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 + 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 / 𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪 𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

"Really, you came with me to the club just so you could not drink?" The alcohol in Wallace's hand was already being sloshed around in the fancy glass.

Today Wallace had asked you to accompany him to the recently opened club down the road. Your opinion of such places isn't really positive - a lot of strangers come there, some not as accepting as Wallace. You promised to walk with him to the place, mainly just curious how it looks like. You didn't plan on actually staying, but you thought taking a quick look inside wouldn't hurt. Of course, you should have expected this would happen.

"When was even the last time we properly hung out like that," he took a nonchalant sip of his Martini, "without Scott to bother us with random Sonic facts?"

Wallace knew full well that you wouldn't be able to refuse his offer once you actually got there. The place was steadily bustling with life, blue and pink strobe lights were dancing across the the dimly lit room. You were not used to being in places like this, in contrary to your friend, who you imagined spent most of his time in such setting.

"When was the last time you've been sober through the entire week?" Your intention wasn't really to shame him, instead just engaging in a playful banter.

"Don't change the topic, guy," he squinted his eyes in amusement, "or I'll start thinking you don't actually like my company," he quipped back with a sly smirk.

You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, leaning more on the bar you've been sitting by, "I didn't bring any money," you started, hoping he'd get the hint. Whether he would let you go or pay for your drink, it'd be a win-win situation.

"Poor you, huh," he raised his eyebrow in a feigned surprise, "why do I always land on leeches?"

You exhaled through your nose, amused, "so what do you wanna drink hm?" He asked, calmly taking out his wallet. It took you a moment to think of something.

"How about..." you scanned over the menu, a colorful drink caught your interest "Mango Mimosa?"

"Looking at the pretty pictures for help with choosing," he commented, finishing his own drink in one swig. "Classy."

"How the hell do you choose then?" You smiled, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"By trying each one in order, of course," he smirked, you weren't sure to what extend he was joking. He raised his hand to get the attention of the barman, "One Mango Mimosa and Martini this way!" You observed as the barman's hands moved in a smooth motion, spilling the alcohol into previously taken out glasses and decorating them with some enrichment. A slice of orange was set on the edge of your drink, Wallace got a fancy olive stabbed by a cocktail stick in his. He put the cash on the counter, "thanks, you're a dear." He winked the male barman's way, making the other avert his gaze in a hurry.

You took the glass into your hand, moved by the urge to get some alcohol into you. You got used to Wallace flirting with any males he considered cute, it was a package deal when it came to hanging out with him. What bothered you wasn't his ability to get game, but rather what you couldn't have. Contrary to how you usually acted around him, you really cared about Wallace.

You originally met him through Scott, your old classmate. You had only spent one school year with the ginger-haired man, but you were good friends while it lasted. Unfortunately, after the graduation you had to move out. Even though the circumstances were not ideal, you still somewhat kept in touch with him through messages. You knew he was now living in Toronto, had a girlfriend (who apparently had 7 evil exes??) and shared a house with a "cool gay roommate". The mention of that got you a bit curious. You were pretty gay yourself, so you hoped to make a new friend. It just so happened that the future had you moving into the same town your ex-classmate lived, and it kinda went from there. Scott greeted you with open arms, excited to see you again. You were also happy by reconnecting with an old friend.

Everything was going smooth, until the roommate he told you about moved from his sitting place to greet you as well.

"Y/N, hm?" He shifted his weight onto one leg, placing a hand on his hip. His eyes checked you up and down, making you extremely uneasy. Scott's vibe was always very unthreatening, which let you chill out around him really easily. This man, however, had the most intimidating aura. He was so- casually pretty, and had the calm conviction in his moves that you found really attractive. You felt unprepared to handle the situation, stopping in your tracks to just stare at him for a moment. He cocked his eyebrow to your silence, finally forcing you take action.

"Yes," you quickly responded, covering your lack of nonchalance with a smile, "... Scott's cool gay roommate?" You tried to ease the tension forming around you with a lighthearted remark.

"Been called that from time to time" he relaxed his face, offering a calm smirk, "I see you've also been charmed by Scott's amazing social skills, huh?"

'I've been charmed by you', you admitted to yourself in your mind.

"I'd say my social skills are... --tend to vary, starting from average." Scott's voice reminded you of his existence, the past few seconds of your life were occupied by the image of this god-sent man.

The first impressions had you feeling shier than usual, frankly just feeling dominated by his presence. You were mostly counting on Scott to keep you safe from being on one on one with him. The thought of Wallace, alone in the room with you made anxious.

Of course, after some time, you stopped putting him on the pedestal and making scary assumptions. Just because you considered him cool didn't mean he would be rude or a stuck up to you. Quite the opposite, even if his disposition was a bit blunt and bold, more often than not, you thought that he was on the same level as you. He respected you, and even shared a few gossips that you found fairly entertaining. At some point it even looked as if you were better friends with him than Scott. That let you embrace the casual bicker with him on occasions, which none of you minded. One thing that you disliked about Wallace was his common flirting with random boys he found attractive. It bothered you, because he also flirted with you.

When it first happened, it had you lovestruck. You weren't ready to digest that compliment yet, though, and your reaction painted you quite awkward. Wallace brushed it off, not minding the lack of reciprocation to the flirt. Your friendship remained casual, and as the time passed, it made more sense as to why you received such attention. Wallace was bit of a fuckboy. It wasn't hard to see him with another boy by the end of the week. Of course, you had no business in what he wants to do, and you weren't about to judge your own friend for having fun. Your relationship remained casual and relatively close, but that fact forced you to push back your hopes of actually getting together with him. Not mentioning the obvious sex difference. Even though you were confidently self-assured about being a man, an opinion Wallace also shared about you, you still compared yourself to his suitors as "less than".

"C'mon, loosen up a little. You're with your dear, handsome friend Wallace who's paying for your drink," he swished the Martini while boosting his own ego.

You rolled your eyes, "I am loose," you huffed out, pretending offense while taking a sip of your drink.

"Yeah, sure, and I'm straight." Wallace replied back, grinning at you. "Your shoulders look like you're about to have a stick shoved up your butt with how stiff you are right now."

The colorful description made you laugh, earning a satisfied smile from him.

"Lighten up, guy, it's just me and you, hanging out. Nothing out of ordinary, except that we're at a club," he pointed out, trying to chase your doubts.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," you gave in, taking the slice of orange placed on the edge of your drink and biting into it.

"So, any interesting news to tell me?" He rested his chin, leaning on his palm with all of his attention pointed at you.

"Mm, not really. Work sucks, per usual," you respond, bored with how uneventful your life is.

"Yeah, gossip from my side's gotta be the usual. Scott's still dating Ramona, they're as happy as ever, blah blah blah." He informed with a bored look on his face.

"How about you, huh? Which boytoy of the week you got your hands on now?" You ask casually, only slightly interested. Wallace wouldn't notice the angst-touched connotations of this question.

He took another sip of his martini, the alcohol making his cheeks flush a bit, "I realized I'm too beautiful for the majority of people, they don't deserve a taste of me. I'm taking a break for now."

You were surprised, you didn't actually expect Wallace to "get a break" from having fun, as he usually put it. Somehow, this info made you loosen up a little. You stopped with the idle drinking, finishing the rest of the drink in one chug. The warmth hitting your throat made you aware of how relaxed the alcohol finally colored you.

"Wow, I really feel special," you joked, a smile tugging your lips.

"You bet," he smirked, following your steps and disappearing the liquid in his glass as well. The percentages in his system also began to take course, making him more prone to smiling. "Barman, one more Martini and Mango Mimosa!"

You didn't even try to stop him, patiently awaiting your next dose of the courage liquid, ignoring the loud party music that easily pierced through your ears. You didn't have to wait long, the drink came into your hand quickly. The conversation was cut by both of you trying to feed more alcohol into your system.

"Wanna go out for a smoke?" You suggested, an easy way out when the activities on a party seem limited.

"Sure, why not." he shrugged, taking his Martini. You took the opportunity to hold his hand while searching for the exit from the big crowd of people, the feeling you'd treasure after this meeting. Wallace had no objections. Outside was a relatively secluded part of the club with certainly less people. A small, wooden bench and a table awaited, perfect for you to sit on. Wallace positioned himself comfortably, putting your drinks on the table. You leaned against his body slightly, an action easily explainable by the size of the bench.

"Ever heard of personal space?" He pointed out the close proximity, bu from the tone of his voice you assumed he wasn't serious. He readjusted himself so that your body would comfortably fit into his.

"Here," you passed him a pack of cigarettes after taking out one for yourself, his fingers lazily grabbed the object. You dug out a lighter out of your pocket, handing it to him. He let the smoke from the cigarette explore his lungs for a second, returning you the item after.

You felt pretty comfortable with the situation, which beckoned the playfulness to visit you. You put the cigarette in your mouth, straightening it while near his face. A smile tugging on your lips curved it a little. He noticed you approaching, quickly getting the hint.

"You know you can just use your lighter, right?" He sounded like he was complaining, yet still, he put the poor excuse of a pocky into his mouth. His face features got well lit by the little fire born from your cigarettes. The reflection was exceptionally pretty in his eyes, accentuating his slightly flushed cheeks, right next to a smirk on his lips. You blew out the smoke that's been uncomfortably residing in you for too long, holding in the need to cough. Wallace was surprisingly kind enough not to comment on it.

"It's more fun to do it this way," you were finally able to respond. He returned to his lazy sitting position, sprawled out on the bench, lazily holding the cig between his fingers. You dared to lean your head on his shoulder, sight pointed up, looking at the sky.

"Look at you, bein' all affectionate and clingy now," he mimicked your typical bickering session, adding touch of suave. "You're not usually like this."

"I can stop if you want," you threatened to take away the privilege of your warmth half-serious, an attempt to hide the embarrassment in you.

Wallace raised an eyebrow at the statement, a drunk smirk still persistent on his lips. "And why would I want you to stop? I'm just sayin' that you don't usually get this touchy. I don't mind you being close to me, guy."

The comment made your stomach feel butterflies. You knew your perception of his answer probably differed a lot from how he originally meant to say it, but the false hope was too strong for you to ignore.

"...Cool." You felt a smile that you couldn't stop creeping up. Wallace pushed the smoke out of his lips once more, "yep, pretty cool." He switched the cigarette into his other hand, moving his unoccupied arm around you in a way that rendered you as a nice armrest. You welcomed the sudden change of the position, entangling yourself in a way where both of you were comfortable. It was the first time you and Wallace were practically cuddled up, you thanked yourself for choosing to stay in the club.

"Damn, you're seriously hopeless when it comes to hiding your lack of human touch. It's kinda cute, in a pathetic way." His playful mockery hit you like a lightning.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You shot your eyes at him, halfly in disbelief of what you heard, halfly embarrassed at his statement being completely true.

"It means you don't have the guts to ask for a hug yet you still cling to me like a damn koala."

"Well- would you do it if I asked?" You lightly tested the waters.

"I dunno, try it." He flashed you his teeth in a cocky smile after putting out his used cigarette on the ashtray. You passed him your cigarette butt after the last use, buying some time before the big decision. He threw it away as well.

"...Do you wanna hug me, then?" You asked, convinced that you wouldn't be faced with rejection, at least judging by his tone. You were technically already pretty cuddled up, but there was still some space left between you.

"Yeah, guy, come here," he requested, (or more like commanded) patting his lap and raising his arm so you could get up. You could feel yourself getting warm, hoping Wallace would assume the flush look of yours was caused by alcohol. The short moment of clarity made you take a look around you, judging your current whereabouts. There weren't many people around, most of what you heard was some conversation and the music coming out of the club in the distance. Your little corner was secluded already, so you didn't need to worry about acting inappropriate in public (unlike some of the people here). You raised your hips, carefully making contact with his lap. You worried about being too heavy for him, but he didn't show any signs of discomfort. He locked his hands together, catching you in his embrace, his smile a looking a bit funny due to the percentages in his system.

Even though the act seemed fairly friendly and casual, you couldn't help but focus on the tension that's been lurking around you two. You weren't sure if it was just your wishful thinking, or did Wallace seem really open to being extra affectionate with you, but you couldn't believe how much of an effect it had on you, especially drunk. You felt as if the stars finally aligned.

"Any more requests, Y/N? I'm feelin' generous." Somehow the simple act of him saying your name made you even more flustered. Still going along with your (alleged) delusions, you thought Wallace's stare differed from the ones he gave you previously. You were usually relatively good at recognising Wallace's expressions and the meaning behind them, knowing him for some time now gave you this insight. He reserved the special, sultry-flavored looks only for the victims of his flirting, and right now you had a hard time convincing yourself you were the witness of it to such extent.

The hesitation in your voice made itself known, making you wait a second before Wallace could hear your response. "Yeah? ... How about a kiss then?" You made sure to hide your eagerness in a layer of playful tone, just in case he noticed your lack of nonchalance about the question. He squinted his eyes, letting out a small huff of amusement.

"Bold, I like that," his eyes fell on your face, which has been heating up pretty quick. Unsurprisingly, his gaze trailed right down to your lips, raising his hand to cup your cheek. You instinctively closed your eyes, the feeling of his lips touching yours became more intense. For a moment you thought you got a little sick due to the alcohol and the strong emotions coursing through you. You weren't sure how much time you spend pressing your lips together, but you assumed it wasn't nearly as long as you felt it was. You were the first to let go, anxiety made you overwhelmed by the length of the kiss, which made you worried about looking too into it.

Suddenly, Sparks.

You saw them, clear as day, which in all honesty wasn't that surprising. You knew you had it bad for him. Wallace opened up his eyes that were previously closed as well, the expression on his face was hard to read. He looked- surprised, but also confused. Did that mean he saw them as well?

You looked- shaken up. But in a good way. He smoothly got over the initial surprise, his hand fixed the stray strand of hair that fell loosely on your face when you pulled away from the kiss. "Come on, handsome, a kiss should last more than a few seconds," he insisted, enjoying every bit of your current expression. He seemed way more eager in comparison to the last one. That sentence had you absolutely going back in.

The next kissing session definitely felt more intense. Wallace knew how to kiss, that was clear. His thumb was gently brushing against your face in soft strokes, adding even more overwhelming sensations, along with his other hand that was busy slowly rubbing your back. It didn't take long for the shy make-out to turn into full-blown exchange of spit. Wallace made the first move of letting his tongue graze your lips, making you part them almost immediately. Granted this opportunity, his tongue explored the corners of your mouth in just slightly sloppy manner. You both were drunk, after all.

You weren't sure what to do with your hands, finally choosing to place them on his shoulders. Wallace continued to graze your back with his heavenly touch, eventually going lower. His hand snaked under your shirt just slightly, the fabric covered his fingertips. The feeling of his cold hand made you shiver and straighten up slightly, breaking the kiss. Wallace looked at you, making sure you're still in on it.

"What is it? Do you need to stop?" His hand still stayed idly on your skin, even though he didn't look up to stopping, he still took the time to check if you're feeling okay with the situation.

"No, you're just making me-" You weren't actually sure why you even continued speaking after 'no', feeling the regret of not keeping your mouth shut almost immediately.

"Making you what?" The playful, sultry look was once again apparent in his expression.

"I'm drunk! ... You're gonna make me," You mumbled the last part, trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment,

"...horny"

You were fully aware of not being able to recover from that. Wallace raised his eyebrow, visibly amused at your attempt to salvage your dignity.

"I mean, Is that a bad thing?"

He leaned in even closer, not being able to take his eyes off of your flustered face. "If I'm bein' 'onest- I'm pretty damn turned on right now too. But, of course, if you wanna stop, I'll totally respect that."

The honesty in Wallace's words had you stunned. You never imagined being in this situation, drunk, making out with your best friend, in public. It scared you a little, but you would rather die than stop right now. "N-no, I wanna continue. But, maybe not here?" You pointed out the lack of privacy around you.

"You're right, I think we should head home," he concluded, untangling his arms from you, "Scott is sleepovering at Ramona's so my house's free." The nonchalance in his voice had you impressed.

"Alright," you said, getting off from his lap, lightly adjusting your clothes after. You were so busy with everything that happened that you forgot about your Mimosa. You both finished your drinks in quick gulps, leaving the glasses on the table. As you made your way out of the loud club, the gravity of this moment fell on you like a bag of bricks. Were you gonna actually hook up with Wallace? Is this where you're heading to? You felt incredibly anxious and excited.

The walk remained quiet, but Wallace didn't seem to treat it as uncomfortable silence. He just walked straight, enjoying the scenery around you. You wished you could say the same. Most of your mind was filled with predictions of how the night is gonna turn out. A feeling of a warm hand touching yours pulled you away from the intrusive thoughts. Wallace didn't even need to do much to have you wrapped around his finger. The gesture made you calm down a little, which made you actually slow down and appreciate the calm atmosphere of the night. The street lamps made your figures cast a big shadow on the ground, fully showing your connected silhouette together.

You barely noticed the distance you walked, it seemed like just a moment before you were already standing by the entrance to his house. Wallace let go of your hand to get the keys that have been buried deep in his pocket. The doors opened after a short while of fighting with the lock. He turned on the light, letting you come in. The house was dead quiet, the only sound being your footsteps as you followed after him. Frankly, you didn't know what to expect.

Wallace turned to look at you, a sly yet playful smile plastered on his face. "Welcome to my humble abode," he still tried to keep the mood lighthearted and silly, clearly in a good mood. He gestured around the room with his free hand.

...As if I wasn't here before," your playful snark returned for at least a moment. Even if you had these intense feelings for him, he was still your best friend, always able to get the fun side out of you.

His laughter hit your ears in the most pleasant way. He shrugged, conceding to your point. "Yeah, tha's true. You've been here before," he admitted, taking a few steps closer to you. "But there's somethin' different about the atmosphere now, isn't there?"

"..Aa lot of alcohol, probably." There was no use of hiding what you two already did and were about to do, but as a final resort, you tried to at least put a playful spin on it.

Wallace chuckled, finding your quip amusing. "Yeah, alcohol probably has somethin' to do with it," he agreed. "But there's more, right?"

"What- what are you implying?"

"Y/N, I'm not gonna pretend as if I don't see you drooling over me."

A wave of extreme tension in your body had you frozen for a good moment - he knew?

"I- Wow, okay-" you tried your best to let out a nonchalant chuckle, which came out sounding more like a stressed cackle, "I guess- I guess the cat is out of the bag now huh-" His expression softened ever so slightly, your reactions were just too pathetic for him to keep pushing you. He moved even closer to you, making your body instinctively move back into the wall. "Wait- If you knew, why didn't you tell me?"

"I waited for you to have the guts to tell me, but I guess you had to be helped with that a little."

You honestly didn't know whether to be ashamed, angry, or relieved.

"And," he continued, "now that it's out there, I can say I waited a long time to find myself in this situation. So," he left your side for a moment to lock the doors, "you wanna continue what we left off?"

You were eager to respond with a confident yes, but before that, you had to make sure you were on the same page. "This... isn't like your usual boytoy hookup situation, right...?"

The boldness drained from his face for a moment, his expression softened to get a bit more sincere. "No, of course not. You're my best friend." He embraced you with one of his arm, pulling you closer. He got uncharacterestically hesitant before speaking again. "...Potentially more."

The last two words made your eyes widen rapidly, you surely misheard him?

"You're- serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," he didn't break the eye contact with you for a second, prefering to lay it on thick, "unless I'm totally wasted, and imagining things, but-"

"I saw Sparks. I questioned if they're even real-" He added, sounding as if he doesn't believe them himself. You could not contain your excitement after Wallace mentioned exactly what you wanted him to say.

"I saw them too!" You chimed in, finally letting your inner thoughts out. That admission made Wallace's smile even wider than he did before.

"I'm glad we're on the same page then,", he used his other hand to turn your chin towards his face. "You look so fucking hot," he tried his best so his speech wouldn't slur. The sentence rang in your head, making you freeze during the moment when Wallace collided his lips with yours again. In no time, his palm was on your side again, swiftly travelling under your shirt to touch the goosebumps covered skin. An involuntary moan forced it's way out of you due to Wallace's tongue invading your mouth. In the current moment, you could be his bitch forever.

You supported yourself by leaning on the wall behind you, Wallace taking up almost all of your view by now. Despite the cigarette flavor of his tongue mixed with the potent alcohol perfume clouding your senses, you managed to hear a request coming from the other boy.

"Let's move," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you to his favorite chair. Feeling like a lovestruck teenager, you mindlessly followed. He seated himself comfortably, pulling you on his lap. His eyes showed unrestricted eagerness, not even trying to hide how much he was enjoying himself. You felt overwhelmed at the ease in which Wallace could fire you up with just his usual way of being. The proximity between you two got almost nonexistent, his bangs tickled you slightly as he moved closer. The sensation got overshadowed by his lips sucking a sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to half-whimper. The noise cringed you internally, you were still not used to calling Wallace your official boyfriend, so this slip-up felt like a vulnerable response to your give your best friend. Wallace would not pass up the opportunity to comment on it.

"Awh, don't be embarrassed," he stopped to smirk, "that sound you made was adorable." Wallace's teasing wasn't an uncommon thing among you two on the regular, but the way his words were currently coated with a playful banter and visible desire could just melt you right then and there.

The shallow pants of yours echoing in his ears turned sharper as he continued to trail a line of hickeys on your skin. You squirmed on his crotch, not being able to control the way your body acted. Wallace lightly dug his fingers into your thigh during the pleasant friction. It didn't take long for you to feel the obvious change of your seat under you. Wallace's arousal was making itself known in the most straightforward display. He noticed the way your body tensed, "Like what you see?" He half-lidded his eyes, searching for more of that coy expression he loved seeing on you.

"...Shut up." You chuckled tiredly, hiding the flustered smile in the crook of his neck.

"Really? I thought you liked me talking." He grinned, "guess I will shut up then..."

"Well-"

"Ah, you want compliments only, don't you?" You must have been a glass window with how easily he could see right through you to be able to respond so fast.

"Who doesn't, Wallace?" you tried to fight back, making his amused smirk wider.

"If you keep acting like a good boy, I'll call you one - deal?"

You didn't trust your voice to answer with a required nonchalance, so you just nodded.

"I need words, Y/N" He squinted, testing you.

"I- I will." You raised your head to look at him, trying hard not to avert your gaze.

"Good boy," he purred, letting a grin contort the corners of his lips. "Now why don't you take care of that?"

Wallace didn't have to wait long for your curious hand to slowly travel down his zipper. You were really about to see his dick, and it stressed you out a little. The torturous tempo of your movements made Wallace impatient, "it ain't gonna bite, guy."

"Shush, I know!" You retorted, feeling your cheeks heat up. After that remark, you made sure to finish freeing him pretty fast. A sight you probably imagined a few times in your mind, yet never in a million years expected to see in real life. He couldn't ignore your gaze almost drilling a hole into his groin. As a man who paid great attention to self-care, of course he kept himself well-trimmed.

"Go ahead, touch me," his command got stuck in your mind. Your fingers hesitantly traced the shape of his member, getting used to the girth and warmth of it.

"You ever gave a handie to anyone?" The blunt words were nothing new coming from Wallace. You shook your head. "That's fine, I'll teach you." He spread his legs more comfortably, leaning into the chair and resting his arm on your thigh. He guided you to mimic the pace he liked. You made a mental note of his technique, it wasn't hard to follow.

"Just like that" he eased his breath, releasing a relaxed sigh and letting go off your hand. "You're doing pretty good."

The strong focus on the motion made you forget your previous worries, a need to pleasure him was your sole objective. A few drops of precum that gathered on his tip betrayed how much he enjoyed himself.

"Mm, alright, that's enough." You stopped upon hearing his words, looking up for further instructions. "Go lay on the futon."

You did as he told, quietly pleased at how casual yet commanding his voice could get. He got up from his chair, towering above you with an obviously visible erection, most importantly, caused by you. He took a moment to admire the sight before him. You were too occupied by the look on his face to think of anything smart to say. A smug look on his face warned you just before you felt his knee rub against your crotch. He had no troubles getting sounds out of you.

"I wanna see you. Can I take off your shirt?" Wallace broke the silence. The need in his voice showed clearly, yet he still managed to sound confident.

"I'm... You wanna see me?" You hesitated, not wanting to ruin the fun, yet feeling incredibly insecure with the topic like that.

"In return, I'll let you see some of me," he winked, completely serious about the exchange.

"But I'm not- flat, you know?" You muttered out, completely accepting the fact that Wallace had probably seen countless of pretty men to compare you to.

"Y/N, don't look too much into it." He started, A chest is a chest. I couldn't care less if you got a bit of manboobs going on." You scrunched your face a little in an embarrassed smile, looking away. "You could always put the shirt back on if my skills won't be able to persuade you otherwise," he looked pleased after seeing your approval nod.

His fingertips moved the shirt up and you raised your arms to help it go over your head. He didn't comment on the binder you wore, quickly coming up with a way to rid you of it. You appreciated not being tightly squeezed by the fabric anymore, but the slightly cold air hitting your skin had you feeling very exposed. The hesitation reflected in your eyes quite visibly, making you hold your breath. "Well, the shirt's off - and you still look tasty," his attempt at flustering you obviously worked - no matter what crude thing he said, he could pull it off entirely.

To continue with the theme, his tongue moved down to your collarbones, then lazily fell onto yours stomach, until it reached the waistband of your boxers. Your sight followed his every action, catching a glimpse of his self-assured smirk at the end. "Don't worry, I'm keeping my part of the deal," in the blink of your eye, he was already out of his shirt, pointing all of your attention onto his abs.

You had seen Wallace shirtless a few times already, but never up so close. Alcohol restraining the control of your actions made you curiously reach out to touch his chest, but you managed to stop yourself before you actually made contact with his skin. You looked at Wallace, silently asking for permission. He chuckled lightly, "knock yourself out." The casual tone forced you to feel sinful about yourself.

His chest was smooth, flat. You were quite jealous, but also sincerely admired his physique. You wanted to trace over every spot.

"I'm gonna touch you. That alright with you, guy?" The faster heartbeat made it harder to properly focus, "Mhm."

His hand disappeared under the hem of your underwear, just to resurface once more after being met with the arousal pooling out of you. "Oh," he commented, looking at the state of his hand, "how cute." He licked the mess off his fingers, making sure to hold eye contacts as he did so. You couldn't deny you were under his spell, not even having any response for him while your wide eyes looked at him licking his lips.

"Y/N, I barely touched you." He spared you no teasing, which you honestly expected at this point.

"What am I supposed to respond to that?" You tried to restore some parts of your dignity.

"How about you start with what you want me to do?" The voice you heard was sweeter than honey.

"I want you to dom me." You disclosed your thoughts, hoping it wasn't too forward.

"Oh, that'll be easy - I'm already doing that." He flashed you his teeth in a smirk of a banterish nature.

"...Like, you, in me. Soon." Your words fumbled due to the percentages mixed lust. He didn't try to hide his chuckle, making you flustered and impatient.

"Okay, okay- you're so needy." He teased, yet was quick to take off the last thing that covered your body. Your legs clasped together out of habit, making Wallace gently rest his hand on your knee, moving it down your thigh.. It made you part them, giving him the access to you. You felt- really naked like that. And he still had his pants on.

"Just so we're on the same page, uh- Just- Just treat me if I was a normal guy." You tried to eloquently put into words how you wanted him to have you.

"Stop. You are a normal guy," he squinted his eyes while observing you, "but I think I know what you mean. You ever tried anything by yourself in that matter?"

"I have some... toys. Yeah." The admission made Wallace pleased.

"Good. It's gonna feel way better than a dildo." He hyped you up effortlessly.

"...Prove it." You found some of the fierceness back in you, making him cock his eyebrow in amusement. Wallace leaned further, trying to reach under the pillow you were currently resting your head on. It amused you to look at him losing balance while trying to search for something under it. He frowned upon realizing the bottle of lube he was holding was empty.

"What!" He sat on your thighs for a moment while examining the offending item. "I was sure there was still some left."

"Keeping the lube under your pillow?? Classy." You recalled back what he told you a while ago.

"Where else would you keep it? It's my house." He furrowed his brows in amusement.

"I guess it is handy when it's closeby."

"When it's full, yeah," he put down the empty bottle somewhere where it wouldn't bother your vision. "Well then,"

He moved himself closer to you, using a finger to part your lips. "Lick."

Wallace quickly felt your tongue leave a hefty amount of saliva on his digit. "Good boy, you're a fast learner."

With the required lubrication, he made sure to prepare you pretty well. His experience in the topic wasn't hard to notice, as his movements were bold yet pretty gentle.

"Aren't you gonna turn me on my stomach?" You asked, voice quivering a little from the uncanny sensation.

"So I could miss those pretty faces you're gonna make for me? No way, sweetheart."

The nickname, even though playful in nature, still made you extremely coy.

"Now, keep looking at me." He pushed one of his finger into you, making you groan lightly. It was hard, but you kept your stare pointed at him despite feeling vulnerable. Lots of saliva proved useful for his finger to move without any unnecessary friction. You kept quiet, mostly just huffing out the labored breaths as he searched for the sweet spot in you.

"You don't have to hold back with the sounds. I like them."

"...I feel silly." You dropped a hint of your internal thoughts.

"Oh no, you feel silly because I'm making you feel good? Right, why should I be able to hear I'm doing a good job?" He pointed out the flaws in your logic.

"You know you're doing a good job" You squinted, looking at him.

"How can I know that if you don't communicate with me, hm?" Adding a second finger, he found the most efficient pace to repetitively hit your bundle of nerves. Each thrust made you tingle, forcing a few pants out of you. Still being met with silence from your side, he turned his movements excruciatingly slow.

"W- Wallace...!" You groaned, desperation seeping into your words.

"Yes, Y/N? Is the pace not to your liking?"

The torturous loop forced the words out of you, "Faster- The way you were doing it before was perfect." Wallace immediately resumed to his previous technique, "See how easily you can get what you want with words?" You paired a smile with a roll of your eyes to cover your shame.

"Anything else you want me to do?" He offered.

"Could you, uh, touch me as well?" Somehow a simple guide on what you expected from him seemed like you were beyond needy.

Wallace wordlessly fulfilled your request. You closed your eyes, determined to focus on the buildup rising in you. Wallace's ability to operate with both of his hands in such a precise way made you feel like a board that DJ's play on. This random thought made you chuckle involuntarily, of course gaining a head tilt from the man.

"What's so funny?" He slowed down his movements so he could hear you speak.

"I had a dumb thought-" You grinned, feeling silly for ruining 'the moment', "It's just- you do the thing so skillfully, like a DJ." Wallace stopped completely, the sound of his drunken laughter followed right after.

"Wow, I woulda expect Scott to come up with something like that, not you." He couldn't even mock a look of disapproval, joy too insistent to stay on his face. "But I can't say I don't find your stupidity adorable."

"Anyway, I think I finished mixing the song." He added onto the joke.

"Awh, what! Not fair." You scolded yourself for voicing your stupid thoughts before reaching your orgasm.

"Not fair? You don't wanna finally start with the main course?" He squinted his eyes in a smirk, leaning to grab something from under another pillow again.

"Mm, you drive a hard bargain."

You looked as he tried to find whatever he looked for, checking at least 2 more times before finally lifting up the pillow to see nothing there. This discovery made him groan in frustration, "Scott took the stash of condoms to Ramona. Of course."

"Ew, they're gonna have sex." You commented, completely acknowledging the irony of your current situation. It made him chuckle.

"So, guy- I know we're both drunk but we still gotta be responsible adults. What d'you wanna do?" He pointed his focus on you. "I'm clean, checked it recently."

"I haven't been with anyone yet, so..." Your gaze wandered on his body to avoid his eyes. You noticed he still had his pants on, a fact he realized right after you, finally taking them off.

"Alright," he concluded, nearing his hips closer to yours "you're sure about this, right?"

"Yes- One hundred percent." You lightly hug his sides with your knees.

"Okay. I'll go slow at first."

You spent the next few moments adjusting to the sudden warmth and stiffness residing in you. He was right. It didn't compare to the toys you had. He moved further while still almost fully pressed into you, brushing the right spot to make you moan. He wouldn't neglect your most sensitive area, bringing his two fingers to move in a circular motion. His pelvis met yours in a series of slow and deep thrusts.

"...Wallace," you moved your hand to trace over his chest, "faster, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," the rhythmic slaps of bare skin echoed through the house with more vigor. Wallace was sure of his good work, judging by the mewls coming out of your mouth. He also didn't spare you the array of lewd sounds. "I haven't been this horny in forever." He continued to whisper more sultry encouragements near your ear, "You have the sweetest voice when you say my name."

"Wallace-" you whimpered, desperate for more praise. "...Almost-" it took great effort to keep your composure, the euphoria threatened to overwhelm you very soon.

"Come on, Y/N. Show me how good I'm making you feel." The tension building up in your abdomen finally caught up to you with a jolt of pleasure. Your fingers dug into his sides, your legs entangled themselves into his body, pushing him even deeper into you. His ears were hit with the lovely noise of you riding your high, him helping you through it by continuing to keep the steady movements.

He let you rest for a while, the break filled the room with your heavy panting. The grip in your fingers loosened, just for him to take it as a sign to resume to the previous pace. It didn't take long for him to see the stars as well, pulling out of you with the desperate mention of your name. You felt the warm liquid hit your bare stomach. Wallace hovered above you, the sounds of your labored breaths melted together.

"...You made a mess," you broke the silence with a playful remark.

"My bad," he leaned to the source of the problem, placing a bold lick along your body. The gesture made you squirm a little, even more so after seeing Wallace wipe a bit of the semen stuck to the corner of his mouth.

"I want a kiss," you dared to request, making him raise his brow at the sudden bluntness. He inched closer, letting you feel the remnants of his salty flavor in a deeper kiss.

"I didn't take you for such a kinky person." He laid himself next to you.

"Said the guy who just licked his own cum off me." You quipped back, showing a smile to show you're not serious.

"Yeah - and you still wanted a kiss."

The proximity led you to initiate the snuggles, moving past the banter that led to nowhere. Wallace put the covers on both of you, adjusting himself comfortably to the new position. His arm was behind your back and your head laid comfortably on his chest. The faint sound of his heartbeat was comforting to hear.

"...It won't be weird to us tomorrow, right?" You murmured, seeking some reassurance. Wallace opened up his eye to look at you.

"I don't see why it would be. Unless you secretly hated it this whole time" He started playing with your hair, making it twirl around his finger.

"It was- awesome." He chuckled at the choice of your words.

"Agreed, guy."

"...So, can I officially call you my boyfriend?" You asked, hoping you knew the answer.

"Only if I can do the same around others."

#scott pilgrim takes off x reader #spto x reader #wallace wells #wallace wells x reader #smut #x reader #scott pilgrim takes off #trans reader #transmasc reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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samsrowena · 5 months ago

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i've mentioned this before but i think it's time for an actual dedicated post because. i'm sorry. but i do not think rowena's ending was good and i'm tired of pretending like it was. like yes in theory i'm happy for her becoming a hashtag girlboss and all and if it happened in season ten or eleven i would totally get it. but as it stands rowena is someone who has some of the best character development in the show and even as early as season twelve her motivations had changed far too much to where i don't even think she would *want* the throne. certainly not after season thirteen when all she wants is to be redeemed. and i just refuse to accept the idea that dying and being stuck in hell for the rest of eternity is redemption, no matter how much the show loves to push "just kill yourself if you want absolution!" (*cough jack cough crowley cough gadreel cough many others cough cough cough*) and regardless of whether or not she (thinks) she runs the joint. and i say thinks because even though it ends up going nowhere we are shown in season fifteen the demons are going behind her back and not following the rules. so with that it's just like what truly is the point of her becoming queen if it's not chuck getting her out of the way and placating her the same way he placates dean in the end by sticking him in heaven (x)

#also the more i rewatch 15x08 the more irrationally angry buckleming's shallow ass portrayal of her makes me sorry #bc i just know in my heart this was not steve yockey's plan when he came up with the whole sam/rowena prophecy in the first place #anyway i have SO much more to say about this but #i think this will do for now #spn.txt #rowena macleod #chuck won theory #supernatural #spn

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coeluvr · 2 months ago

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Helllo! If you’re planning to rewrite the beginning may I bring your attention to something that’s always looked a bit off to me as a reader in terms of believability? [Feel free to ignore!]

It’s MC who, at the age of 9, asks if the death of their parents is just an illness and whether they’ll recover soon. I could see them refusing to want to process and accept it, which is a very normal reaction, but them asking whether it’s an illness that’s curable? I feel like 9 years is way too old to not know how death works, since when I was just 6 or maybe even 5 I knew how final it was and I was a pretty sheltered kid. Even seeing insects die would usually prompt kids to ask some questions, plus MC’s brothers have died already before the massacre and MC knew that they never returned, so I never was sure why kid MC was so uninformed?

Welcome back and glad that you’re ok!

Hello! I've been rewriting since like October of last year (correct me if I'm wrong) so the prologue is already off to the side and I can say that part has been fixed since it bothered me as well. 🙇‍♀️ MC now has a better understanding of death that I think is fitting for their age after I researched and talked to people.

I'm basically done with chapter 1 too and have been since January, I think, but things happened and well life hates me. I've been stuck on this one scene for ages now because of all the slight changes and I'm not sure how to proceed just yet but hopefully soon!

I'm thinking I'll post the prologue separately for the public once I get chapter 1 to patreon for feedback and all that, Easter break is soon so hopefully that will be give me time. So fingers crossed all will be well and I can finally get to chapter 2 which is another mess (in my eyes). 🙏

Also if anyone has any woes or issues or feedback, please do send it to me! I appreciate everything. 💗

#coe answers #I have a german oral exam tomorrow why did I ever pick german fml #the other choice was french and that's a no from me (ironic I know)

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angeldoll2000 · 1 year ago

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First and Last

Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader

Word Count: +3,234

Warning(s): +18, Non con, ANGST, Domestic violence, Mentions of overdose/overdosing, Drug usage, Addiction, Forced drug usage, Heavy domestic violence, Forced breeding Accidental OD, Really long because I don't have a life.

Author's note(s): I wanted to post this before my trip. Idk if I want to make this into a 2 part series maybe if its good than ye 😃

You run into your soon-to-be ex-husband at a friend's party. He's determined to get a second chance. But some things never change.

You met Tom in college. Both of you were part of the same friend group and would see each other often. He was persistent in pursuing you. Eventually mustering up the courage to ask you out. You said yes because you fell for him first. But it was Tom who fell harder. He was your first love, first kiss, first everything. After a year of dating, he finally pops the question. Everything seemed to be going fine at first.

That was almost a decade ago. He's not the same man you fell in love with. Something inside him changed. There were times where you were unsure whether it was the drugs talking or how he truly felt. He would try to hide it but failed miserably. You can't remember how many times you've found his stash, which always resulted in an argument. You were sick of his excuses. It eventually got worse with his intake. He would arrive home half sober. You were sick of seeing him waste away like this. You remember finally deciding that enough was enough.

After catching him at home for the fifth time, you decide to take action into your own hands. In a fit of anger, you retrieve his hidden stash and flush it down the toilet. When Tom found out his reaction wasn't what you had predicted. Not at all. He dragged you to the bathroom and demanded to know where his supply went. It was the first time he'd ever laid his hands on you. Instead of apologizing for bringing them home, Tom held you in a chokehold until you told him where they were.

Never in your life would you imagine Tom of all people reacting in such a way. When you finally confess what had happened, he loses his temper. It terrified you how strong he became while under the influence. You were no match for his drug-fueled rage. Your wrist is still sore from how he held you down last week. There were bruises that were still healing for all the times before. But this one had been the worst punishment yet. He left you there on the bathroom floor, naked and sore. Tom hadn't bothered to look your way. He zips up his pants before leaving in search of his next 'fix'.

That wasn't the first time he put his hands on you, but it was the first time you had left him. You received a string of desperate phone calls, voicemails, text messages all from Tom. You returned home to find him on his knees with a bouquet in hand and tears in his eyes. He apologized and promised to be a better man for you. That was shortly lived. When you arrived home from a late shift, you caught Tom using it again. This time it was different, you found Tom overdosing. You lunged towards him, "Tom?! Tom!" cradling his head in your hands, holding him close. It was the first time you've caught him. A part of you feared this wouldn't be the last.

Tom had tried to make it up with sex, but you couldn't be around him anymore. You felt almost revolted how he didn't care. Having him around only reminds you of the pain. This time instead of throwing a fit, yelling, or crying. You simply packed all your things and left. What could you do with a man who refuses to change? Leave. You left for your mother's place, finally accepting that it wasn't your fault.

The divorce papers were mailed to him. For a while now, Tom knew there was something wrong with him. He was just too stubborn to admit it. You'd spoken with a lawyer and there was a court date issued. In a few months from now, you will no longer be referred to as husband and wife.

For the first time in years, you've finally let the feeling of guilt go. No longer were you going to let this define who you were. You weren't a failure as a wife. Because it was never your fault in the first place. Soon enough you were doing the things you loved again, even began to pick up a few new hobbies. That spark of joy began to return. You started dressing up in nicer clothes, going out, actually spending quality time with friends and family.

Sometimes there would be a moment when you'd feel for Tom and wonder what he'd be up to. But then again did you really want to know? It would usually be the same thing, him being higher than a kite. Still, you couldn't help but mourn at the loss of your marriage. When you were young and promised to love each other until your very last breath. You still loved Tom, but he loved other things more.

You were looking forward to your old college friend's New Year's party. A healthy dosage of socializing to get you out there again. You had the opportunity to catch up with everyone there. It felt as though no time had passed. You danced around, joined in some games, things were going well. But there was a lingering feeling that someone, somewhere was staring at you.

That's when you spot him, Tom, sitting quietly at the end of the room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him twiddling his thumbs. There's a part of you that regrets not filing a restraining order. Tom always had a habit of showing up unannounced. You weren't in the mood for whatever he had to say. So, you left his sight, down the hall, to the nearest restroom.

You sat on the counter, removing your heels for a moment. A groan escapes your lips as you rub both feet, knowing very well they would ache in the morning. Shit, you were really gonna feel that. You splash your face a few times, hoping that it would combat the summer heat. Completely unaware of the sound of the door opening. It was as if you knew who was behind you, turning around to find Tom leaning against the door. You gave him a glare, "Get out," you were in no mood for his emotional ambush. He ignores your request and calmly states, "I just want to talk to my wife,"

"We're not--"

"Legally, yes, we are," he corrects. Always so condescending. It was one of the things you couldn't stand. How he would belittle your intelligence. It was the little remarks he'd make to shut down any effort you gave. He made you feel unwanted. He was the one who decided to push you away first.

If only he could see past his own selfishness that you truly wanted to save this marriage. But in order to do so, he would need to admit that it was an ongoing problem. You didn't have to worry about a mistress, no. You had to worry everyday about finding him dead. You've caught him overdosing a few times. It eventually took a toll on you. To the point where you lost weight from the stress. Tom rakes his hand through his locks, "Of course you don't want to see me, nothing ever satisfies you," a snarky remark to try and get under your nerves.

With the amount of alcohol in your system, it worked, "Are you kidding me?" you scoff, "Don't you dare lie to me Thomas, I tried everything, everything to fix us, can you say the same?" you growl in his face. Maybe it was the liquid courage that gave you a whole new attitude. Whatever it is helped with confronting him. His reaction, however, was not what you expected.

He smothers you into a deep kiss, pulling you into his embrace. You try shoving at him in an attempt to catch breath. Finally breaking free from his grip. For a moment, he's seems visibly hurt. You scold, "What you wrong with you?!" it wasn't fair. After all the hurt you've been through, Tom still tries to insert himself into your life.

You deserved better. You try to shove him away. Instead, he shoves you against the wall, "Can't you see..." he presses his sweaty cheek against the crook of your neck, "You're my everything..." his voice sounding more desperate with each word. You scoff, "No, Tom, you can't do this..." tears began to brim, threatening to spill. His eyes are filled with worry, "No...now, baby please don't cry..." his expression is saddened but there are no tears. He kisses each cheek, ignoring your sniffling. Tom held you in place by the shoulders, "I couldn't stop thinking about you," it's true. You were his first love.

Tom had longed to see his wife again. To feel her, touch her, caress and worship every part of her. He wanted to make things right, truly. But she just got up and left him. Like he was trash. What made her so high and mighty? He's so sick of seeing you always playing the role of a saint. For once he wants to see you get downright nasty with him. His breathing became frantic, "Can't you see? I'm addicted to you," there's a mischievous look on his face that you were more than familiar with.

You place a cautious hand in front to create distance, "Tom, listen to me, you’re high right now, you're not in the right--" you were muffled by his hand, "No! No! Listen to me!" his voice booms. His sudden mood swing scares you. So much so that your nails dig into his wrist. He hisses in pain, "Stop it! Just stop!" he grits his teeth. When he releases his grip the first thing you do is make a run for it. But before you could even set foot out of the restroom you're pulled back by the hair. You fell on your back, hitting the marble floor.

It sends the air out of your lungs. That's when you start crying, shriveling up into a ball, begging for him to stop. This was how your arguments always ended. Tom crouches down, "Oh...baby I'm so sorry..." He grabs a towel, pushing it against the bottom of the door to ensure that it's soundproofed. He then pulls you into a hug, locking his arms around your waist. Tom rocks you in his embrace, "Please...please don't cry shh.." He doesn't want to see anymore tears spill. He's thankful for the music being loud enough to muffle your cries. He lifted you onto the counter.

You look down at the floor, refusing to look him in the eyes. Tom presses his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter shut, "Let me make this right..." he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bag, "Here... this'll help with the nerves," he swipes his fingers on his tongue before dipping it in. He swirls it a few times, coating the digits with the white powder.

When he brings it to your mouth you turn away with disgust, smacking his hand off, "Get it the fuck away from me! You fucking tweaker!" you claw at him. He's hurt by your words. How could you? He really is trying to stop. It's harder than it looks. He's tried just about anything you could name to fix his marriage. Nothing, not a damn thing worked. Every time he'd come running back to that same euphoric feeling. When you left, he started using it again, more than ever.

If only he could get you to try it out, then maybe, you'd understand. He presses you against the counter, using his bodyweight to hold you in place. You sob, "Please...please Tommy...don't do this..." he grips both of your wrists, ignoring your pleas. He looks at you with a maddening look in his eyes. You knew he was out of it. There was always that nothingness behind his irises. To think that this man was once your devoted husband.

He muffles your cries with a clean hand. He has an idea for the other. Tom hisses, “M’gonna make you take it, make you feel really good...” he reaches in between your legs, pushing aside the lace. Tom brings the snow coated fingers to your folds. He bites his bottom lip, concentrating on finding your opening. He slowly starts to insert them, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop. Tom starts pumping his coated fingers in and out of your channel.

You let out a muffled scream under his palm. Stray tears falling down and landed on his wrist. He felt almost bad, but you'll understand soon enough where he's coming from. Just wait and see. You'll love it as much as he does. Fuck, every vein in his body felt like it was on fire. It's easier getting hard while using, too easy. His dick almost hurts form how hard it was. He spat a wad on the tip, coating it with a bit of snow before hovering it over your folds. He presses it against your opening.

A wide grin spreads on his face, "Sh...please...don't flinch sweetheart I just wanted to feel... can I feel my own wife's pussy?" He moans. A mewl escapes your lips. Tom chuckles, he knew you'd love it as much as he does. His hands grip your neck, he doesn't know how strong he's squeezing, not while he's using. It felt nice feeling you clench on his length. He’s on an adrenaline high right now. He’s not going to stop anytime soon.

He rapidly thrusts his hips in and out your channel, indulging in the feeling. Two of his most favorite things combined. Oh, how he’s missed you. Tom picks up his pace. He leans down to plant wet, sloppy kisses across your bare neck. He retreats his lips, groaning against your ear, “I promise you I'll make up for everything, I'll even give you a baby like you've always wanted...” He knows it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to be. A mother.

Your eyes shoot wide open as you scream into his palm to stop. Tom pops a pill in his mouth. He swishes it around a few times before forcing your mouth to open. He removes his palm only for a moment, before shoving it inside. It's too much, too much...You felt like you were flying, no, falling? Your heart couldn't stop beating and every single last one of your limbs felt like jelly. A visible vein bulges on the corner of your temple. Only a faint gargle leaves your lips, "F-fuck...T-tom...please..” sniffling for him to stop.

He coos, “M'gonna give you a baby, ok? then we'll be a happy family..." He sighs in admiration. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. Always so compliant. Don’t worry, he’s going to make sure you’ll never get rid of him, “This was mine the day I put that ring on that finger..." He finishes with a roar, coating your insides with his spunk. Tom is almost satisfied, almost. He doesn’t want to waste a single drop. He carefully removes his cock from your channel, plugging you back up with his fingers.

Tom takes the small baggie. He coats it with your arousal. A deep moan escapes his lips, "Just hide it for me, yeah, can you do that love?" Two of his fingers are buried deep into your channel, he scissors them apart a few times, testing the waters. Then he starts to push it in. You were too buzzed to even fight him off.

His fingers have always caressed that spot you just couldn't quite reach. Tom sighs, “Beautiful...fucking beautiful...” words that he hasn't used in years. Tom throws his coat on the floor. He carefully places you on it, taking no note of the blank expression on your face. He hadn’t noticed your eyes rolling back. He pressed his head against the door to hear if anyone was lurking. If the coast was clear, he could leave.

He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before leaving, placing a tie on the doorknob to ensure no one would wander inside. Tom prepares his car for the both of you. If you were thinking of escaping him, think again. He would keep you hidden until you were surely pregnant. You’ll have a part of him with you forever. He returns to the house with a pep in his step, opening the door to find you still lying on the ground.

That’s when Tom finally notices the faint frothing on the corners of your mouth. He crouches down, “No...” he should’ve seen this coming. You weren’t used to any kind of drug. You’ve never smoked a day in your life. Tom pulls you into his arms, “No no no no...no please...” he shook your unconscious form, “Please! Stay with me!” he shook harder, “Please! Fuck!” Finally breaking down. Tom couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without you. For it to actually come true was his biggest nightmare, “Please! Don’t leave me!” He rocks both of you back and forth.

Tom tries his best to control his breathing, reaching into his pocket. He calls the one person he knows would help, "Lenn...I'm in deep shit," he chokes. Tom prays that his brother can make it on time. For years now, Lenny had been the one covering up for his little brother. He could hear Tom on the other end of the phone, “She--she’s not waking up...” That’s when Lenny races out his office in search of his twin, "Tom, listen to me, where are you?"

Whatever shit his little brother has gotten into this time, he better hope it doesn’t ruin his record. Lenny hadn't spent years in law enforcement just to lose it all in one day. If word got out that the local detective’s own brother was a tweaker, he’d have to kiss that promotion goodbye. However, Lenny isn’t going to let him get away so easily. Unlike Tom, his brother is colder, more calculated than emotional. He's always surpassed him in every way possible. Well, almost. Lenny hates to admit it, but Tom had the one thing he finally beat him at, you.

You were the color added to his life. Without you his world was just...black and white.

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