#but you have to understand this followed us our whole life

[gothamite-rambler]

When caught in a hostage situation by wannabe twitch streamers and can't be Batman

Bruce Wayne attended the gala alone; nobody wanted to go with him, and now he found himself with a gun aimed at his head. It was just another Tuesday in Bruce's life. He knew there was nothing he could do except kneel on the ground and wait for his kids to rescue him.

Bruce (in his head): I should've stayed home; then I could've saved the day. But no, I had to show up! Damn it, the things I do to keep my identity separate from my hero life.

Bruce (out loud): Can you hurry this up? Some of us have places to be.

Lennie, the goon leader, wore a white, expressionless face mask that only added to the absurdity of the situation. He sucked his teeth, visibly annoyed at Bruce's indifference to having a gun pointed at his head. It was as if he were trying to put on a show of intimidation, but the lack of reaction from his hostage only served to frustrate him further.

Lennie: We’re almost done setting up the livestream, geez!

Bruce (sarcastically): Oh yes, let’s make sure the whole world sees a bunch of no-name thugs holding a fancy party hostage. That’s smart. Truly brilliant. You're a real trailblazer.

Lennie: Yeesh, you don’t gotta be rude.

Bruce (dryly): Am I being rude? I’m just trying to maintain my composure here while you’re aiming a gun at my head. A little nervousness is understandable, don’t you think?

As if to prove his point, Lennie raised the gun away from Bruce’s head in a moment of misplaced confidence.

Lennie: Please, I’m an expert shooter—

Just then, Lennie's finger slipped, and the gun went off, shooting across the room and hitting a statue, which promptly shattered—sending shards flying and making a woman at the party scream in terror.

Lennie (shouting): I told you to stop screaming!

Bruce glared at the man for a second, then turned back to staring ahead, internally counting the seconds ticking by like they were days as he waited for literally any of his children or even Kate to arrive to save him.

Lennie: All right, I’ll just hold the gun at my side and grip the back of your neck. Don’t do anything stupid; the gun is still loaded.

Bruce (indifferent): You’ve shot it twice already, so that doesn’t bode well for your "expert shooter" credentials. But hey, start the stream for your three followers to enjoy.

Lennie (enraged): Hey! We are on the come-up! Oz, is everything ready to go?

Oz, a blonde man in a blue bandana with eye slits cut into the fabric, checked the wireless conference cam that sat on a nearby chair and glanced at his phone.

Oz (hesitantly): Um, yeah, I think?

Lennie: Cool, start it.

Oz: It’s already running.

Lennie: What? For how long?

Oz (pointing at Bruce): Well, since he mentioned we were using Twitch for our heist.

Lennie: God damn it! I told you to wait for my signal before hitting the stream button!

Oz: I thought you’d be more professional when I started the feed. What did you want the signal to be, “Cool, start it”?

Lennie: …

An old man at the gala couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized that was the signal.

Old Man: Good thing you’ve got guns, because your performance so far is downright terrible!

Bruce (aggravated tone): You must’ve failed clown college, didn’t you? This is your backup plan? Want to look like a joke in a different way?

Lennie: Shut up! Fuck, you’re just like my parents! Lucy!

Lucy strolled over, holding a similar gun and wearing a light purple ski mask.

Lucy: Yes, babe?

Lennie: Lucy, I told you not to call me that during this!

Lucy: Sorry, baby! I mean Kenny—oops, sorry, Lennie.

Lennie groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Lennie (whispering to his girlfriend): Just stand next to the rich guy while I read the ransom. You’re better with guns.

Lucy (cheerfully): Okay!

Lucy walked over to Bruce, lightly gripping the back of his collar while aiming the gun at his upper shoulder.

Lucy: Hi, Mr. Wayne!

Bruce: Don’t chat with me right now. Why are you aiming the gun at my shoulder?

Lucy: Gotta start lower and work my way up, you know?

Bruce: That actually makes sense in a messed-up way.

Lucy: Thanks! Lennie, you starting soon?

Lennie (covering his eyes in frustration): I need a fucking minute… Okay, Oz, get the stream going!

Oz (confused): Again?

Lennie: What do you mean "again"?

Oz: The one I started two minutes ago is still streaming. We’ve got viewers too! Do you want me to end that? Why? You’re already wasting time.

Lennie clasped his hands together, feeling the pressure as his plan began to crumble, and Bruce—ever the thorn in his side—wasn’t letting up.

Bruce: You’re doing a terrible job if you wanted an audience’s opinion.

Lennie (angry shouting): I’d shoot you right now if I could! I have to talk to the actual audience because if I have to talk to that smug asshole one more time, I’m going to beat your ass.

Bruce: That’s rich, coming from you.

Lennie growled, huffing as he tried to rein in his temper. He turned to the camera, his irritation palpable, and prepared to begin the ransom speech he had memorized.

Lennie (clears throat): Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most glamorous hostage situation of the decade! If you think this is a PR disaster, you're absolutely correct!

Bruce (with a sarcastic edge): Wow, did you actually memorize that?

Lennie held up his index finger, then pulled a white bandana out of his pocket and stormed over to Bruce, tying the scarf across the man's mouth to silence him. Bruce rolled his eyes dramatically as Lennie turned back to the camera, as if he were the star of a reality show gone wrong.

As the wannabe streamer continued his speech, Stephanie, Tim, and Duke were perched atop a nearby building, close to the glass rooftop where the gala was taking place. They waited for the signal from Nightwing, who was in a different location, to ambush the kidnappers—but for now, they were watching the stream. Their reactions varied widely.

Tim let out a long, frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tim: Yep, yep.

Stephanie was practically doubled over with laughter.

Stephanie: I can’t believe the guy in the white mask wasted two bullets! What a dumb ox with some serious daddy issues!

Duke, sporting a worried expression, chimed in.

Duke: I don’t know what scares me more—his incompetence accidentally getting Bruce shot or the fact that this stream has a concerningly high number of viewers!

Stephanie nodded, still chuckling.

Stephanie: Right? It’s like a bizarre comedy show!

Tim: I definitely recognize the ring leader by his grating voice. We took social psychology together at CUNY. Well, we took that one class before he dropped out to pursue... whatever this nonsense is. This missing chromosome was a jerk back then and hasn't changed.

Duke (raising his left eyebrow): He has a YouTube channel where he harasses people but calls it "pranks"?

Tim: No, it’s a TikTok page!

Stephanie burst out laughing harder, shaking her head in disbelief.

Stephanie: This is too good!

Tim: This is going to be an interesting mission.

[the-shape-shifting-system]

CW: Rant

Shoutout to our past selves (especially Aether) for never lashing out when we were being mocked for being in pain, after walking non-stop for a few minutes, by our family (like on shopping trips).

Also, we apparently have no right to be in pain after a whole day of walking around a huge ass town while our sibling has a sprained ankle. Granted, their ankle probably hurt a lot, and they tend to have chronic pains after injuries in the spots that suffered the trauma. But that doesn't stop us from also being in pain, and being mocked for it is pretty annoying ('pretty', yeah, just that /s). Honestly surprised we didn't lash out that time either.

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

had quite the night drive earlier this evening.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[sweetmodel]

If you feel like giving up on shifting, here's a list of the highs and the lows I've experienced only thanks to shifting:

-Being with someone I liked in my original reality but couldn't have;

-Having fairy wings and flying, feeling the air flow between your hair, body and the rush of adreline the higher you go up;

-Using my magic for the first time, connecting with all sort of living beings (plants, animals) and being able to communicate with them and feel things in a deeper way;

-Having a group of friends in my dorm and becoming united and tight;

-Using futuristic technology;

-Reading really ancient magical books;

-Seeing our solar system in space;

-Actually, being inside a spaceship and seeing space FROM space itself! You think everything is huge and distant? You won't realize how true it is until you're there;

-Connecting to different types of elemental magic all around you, from fire, to water, to more complex things like light and space itself;

-Using magic to make your life easier. Bed? Just use your magic to make it. Clothes? Just spin around and you're ready to go. Bad hair? What's that? I know too many beauty spells to have bad hair;

-Using both dark and light powers, truly understanding the meaning of emotions, even the ones considered ""negative";

-Having an actual arch-nemesis, somehow and someway being so different yet so similar;

-Meeting all sorts of humanoids, from demons, angels, dryads, androids, fairies... and the list goes on;

-Actually belonging to those groups!

-Buying all sort of clothes and accessories, imagine something that doesn't exist here, you can actually wear it now;

-Being sent on mission on another planet;

-Studying on another planet! Waking up and seeing the rings of Saturn, while the sun is just a little tiny dot far away in the sky;

-Being away from Earth and knowing magic is real while the entirety of humanity doesn't;

-Being cast for the first time in your first role!

-Opening a bank account and seeing the cash flow;

-Being loved and appreciated for your talent and the things you do;

-Barely staying on social media to avoid all sort of hate that might get to you;

-Travelling around the world to sing on stage;

-Being able to basically buy anything, without any limits whatsover;

-Big numbers everywhere, from views, to followers, to money;

-Meeting celebrities whom you once liked and being like... "Hey, this person is just like me";

-Celebrities being starstruck for you instead of the other way around;

-a majority of your roles being your main realities;

-Buying your first house! Despite actually living there only for two months max since you're always around the globe;

-Falling in love with people you shouldn't;

-Your ex in your fame reality playing the role of your actual ex of another reality (this one took me out you guys I didn't even do it on purpose)

-Having professors that aren't humans. One of my professor is a victorian frog (If you know you know);

-Being sent all over the cosmo to stop the big bads from taking over;

-While also having to return to class like everything is fine!

-But it totally is... I guess this is the new normal now?;

-Finding out the big villain who's been terrorizing the whole town is your boyfriend's dad and breaking up cause it was too much for you (If you know you know part 2);

-The responsability of the town's safety weighting on you, wondering if you are fit for the role despite winning so many times;

-Starting an investigation on campus because some shady stuff is happening;

-Becoming popular, actually being sucked into popularity and the superficial part of you coming out;

-Your friends being mad at you for it and then remembering what's truly important, them;

-Fighting in battle. You get hurt A LOT if you aren't careful;

-Your arch-nemesis confessing their ACTUAL crimes to you and keeping it a secret because you don't want to get caught by the law;

-Meeting the same people in different realities and realizing how deep people (and also you) are, and how complex life truly is;

I'm sure there's waaaay more since I spent so much time in my realities, but oh there are the ones that came up right now. Hope you guys like the list!

[piper-2244]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[allaboutthemoonlight]

How to Build Self Discipline

Cultivating self-discipline is the way towards personal growth and achieving long-term goals. To me, it’s really all about making choices that honor your well-being and identity.

Understand that self-discipline is about self love and respect

It’s not about punishment or deprivation, but rather caring for yourself enough to make choices that align with your long-term well-being and goals.

You’re showing yourself the respect you deserve by honoring and committing to changes you want to make.

It’s all about recognizing your worth and having the motivation and courage to pursue what’s really best for you, even when it requires a lot of effort and decision-making.

Frame your identity in a way that includes discipline

How we act directly ties to our identities and how we believe we are. If you believe you’re a successful individual, you’ll live a life framed by confidence and determination. If you believe you’re someone who is lazy and unmotivated, you’ll struggle to find the drive to pursue your goals and aspirations.

Gaining discipline is all about acting as the person you believe you are and moving through life in a way that’s consistent with your determined identity. The key here is to try to imagine who you are at your highest self in a disciplined state of mind.

To start this, ask yourself these questions and slowly arrange your life in a way so there’s no distance between who you are now and your highest self:

What does your day look like

What do you eat

What do you wear

What does your week look like

What does your work day look like

What hobbies do you have

What’s your morning and night routine

Who are you surrounded by

What do you say yes and no to

Have systems in your life

I recently wrote a post about habits and mentioned the idea of systems versus goals. Here, I want to delve a bit deeper into that concept within the context of self-discipline.

To me, another way to truly live a disciplined life is to establish starting systems, something that will propel you past hurdles and reduce the friction that accompanies change.

Let’s say you want to improve your eating habits and cultivate discipline in consuming less sugar while incorporating more whole foods into your diet. You could begin by implementing a system of prepping healthy snacks or meals in advance at the start of each week, or however you see fit. By having these snacks readily available, you eliminate the need for decision-making, making it easier to adhere to your goal.

Anything that serves as a reminder or facilitates consistent action toward your desired outcome is a valuable system in your life.

Be okay with not doing something and embrace the mindset of small wins

This may seem paradoxical in the context of developing self-discipline, but being okay with not doing something is crucial. There are times in life when we need tough love and motivation, but there are also moments when compassion is the driving force that propels us forward.

When you don’t follow through with something, whether it’s going for a run or preparing a healthy dinner, it’s important to be okay with it. You don’t need to shame yourself or feel guilty for not taking action because that will only reinforce negative thought patterns, making it harder to create the change you desire.

Consider this: if you miss a planned run and spiral into self-criticism, you’re more likely to avoid running altogether. However, if you approach the situation with understanding and compassion, you’ll be more inclined to try again next time.

This is where small daily victories come into play. Sometimes, all we need is one small step forward to develop a new habit and maintain consistency. Whatever you're striving to improve or change, if it feels daunting, tell yourself, "Just for today, I'll do a 15-minute workout instead of the full hour," or "Just for today, I'll read 5 pages instead of the entire chapter," and celebrate these as small victories. Doing so not only helps you establish new habits but also allows you to acknowledge the progress you've made and the trust you've built within yourself.

—Luna

[sturniolosangel]

save a horse ride a?

warnings: best friend dynamic, innocent bambi!reader, experienced!matt, flirting, kissing, thigh riding, corruption in a way, not proof read as always

a/n: first day of kinktober baby! i really hope you guys enjoy the whole month of fics! this is just a small of what big things are coming all puns intended. as always i🤍u

summary: reader is starting to obsessed over the farm life especially cowboys. what happens when matt takes her to the country and dresses the part?

i sat happy in front of matt as he showed me an air bnb he rented for the two of us on the country side. “matt i didn’t think you would actually book the trip” i spoke softly. “of course anything for you but go pack your bags we leave tomorrow morning” he replied back. i sat up almost skipping to my bedroom to pack up my stuff.

once i was done grabbing all of my things it was around 8pm and matt said he had ordered food so i walked downstairs to meet him. “love hurry the foods gonna get cold” he slightly raised his voice. “i’m here calm down” i giggled. i sat with him as i put on a show while matt go the food ready.

as soon as we were done eating i was wiped out an ready for bed. “matt come onn im tired” i grabbed his hand dragging him up the steps.

the next morning..

me and matt are sitting in the car his hand on my thigh as he drove. “we’re here i’ll help you get your stuff just go unlock the door the code is 5555” matt spoke lightly as he got up. “on it” i smiled as i got up to the door.

all of our stuff was now unpacked and matt had planned horse riding for us so i started to get ready. i chose a red and white plaid dress and some brown cowgirl boots. “love! are you almost ready we have to leave soon” matt yelled from down the steps. “yeah i’m about to be done” i yelled back.

i walked down the steps to meet a very hot matt with a red and black plaid button up with a black cowboy hat. i felt a werid feeling in my body as a wet patch started to grow in my underwear. “so how do i look?” matt ask softy. “really good you know i gotta thing for cowboys” i whispered back. matt smirked as he grabbed his keys and waved his hand to follow him outside.

we arrived to farm as i saw all the pretty horses. “i want that one” i said as i pointed to white one. “i want this one” matt replied to the black one ironically standing next to the white one. i giggled as the instructor helped us get each of the horses.

i already knew how to ride a horse but seeing matt struggle was the best part. as the horse picked up the saddle rubbed in the right spot as i gasped out. matt came next to me on his horse “you okay” he asked “yeah just fine” i replied as i blushed.

matt was now infront of me and god did he look good. this unfamiliar feeling rose in my body again and i felt like i had an itch that i couldn’t scratch. when we were done i make sure to get a picture of matt and us with the horses.

as we got back to the air bnb i had to ask matt about what i was feeling was bothering me so bad i felt like i was gonna burst. “matt.. can you please come here” i called out from the bedroom. i could hear footsteps getting closer. “yeah what’s wrong love?” he said coming into the room.

“i feel something very weird and i think i might need help” i spoke softly. “what’s it that you’re feeling” he questioned. “it’s like an urge down there and i have no idea what to do like it almost hurts” i said embarrassed. matt seem to understand and wasn’t confused at all “come here baby” he patted his thigh.

i got up and sat up on his thigh and wrapped my hands around his neck. “can you help me?” i questioned desperately. “i got you, just be patient” he whispered. he grabbed my waist as he slowly rocked my hip back and forth on his jeans. i threw my head back as i felt some relief.

“feels really good matt” he took my face in his palm an connected our lips. i groaned into his mouth as my hips started to move on their own. he disconnected our lips to lift me up to my feet to reach his hands under my dress to slide off my panties.

“sit back down baby” he spoke a little more demanding. i sat back down on his thigh as i felt a new type of feeling. he pushed on my waist to add pressure as i rocked my now bare pussy against him. “fuck..” i moaned out.

matt took his flannel off and threw it on the floor leaving him with a black tank on. his lips started to leave kisses along my neck and his hands started to kneed my boobs through my dress. my hips bucked onto his thigh not knowing how this could feel so good. “matt i need to feel your touch.. please” i whined out.

“like this baby” his thumb started to rub my clit as my eyes rolled back and my back arched. “yes! fuck that feels amazing” i almost screamed out.

i felt the pressure build up in my stomach as i put my head in his neck as my hand slide up to his cowboy head and gripped my fingers around it. “that’s it love keep going you’re doing so good” matt spoke into my ear.

i picked up my paste as i felt the wetness spread onto his pants. “matt i think im gonna!…” before i could finished i was cumming all over matt’s leg as i gripped on his shirt and my legs started to shake. “good girl you feel better now?” matt said rubbing my back.

“so much better matt but i’m so tired” i spoke cuddling my head into his neck. “it’s okay baby we’ll go get a bath” he picked me up and took me to the bathroom as he sat me on the counter and started the bath. he started to take my clothes off and his and he picked me up once again and sitting us in the bathtub.

“if you ever have the feeling when you’re with me tell me you know i’ll always help my baby” he whispered. i rolled my head back onto his chest. “of course who else would i be so comfortable with asking” i said slowly closing my eyes to relax.

liked by matthew.sturniolo, christophersturniolo, madisonbeer and 1,275,529 others.

yn.yln: how does it go.. save a horse ride a? @/ matthew.sturniolo

view all 295,376 comments

liked by yn.yln, christophersturniolo, nicolassturniolo, and 1,100.637 others.

mathewsturniolo: maybe the farm life isn’t that bad @/ yn.yln

view all 230,826 comments

a/n: i’m sorry this took me forever to get out today but trust everything will be posted everyday just takes time. i hope you enjoyed the little insta post at the end as well trying some new things! also some tags aren’t working so bare with me! i🤍u

taglist! @mattsbitchh @st7rnioioss @sweetlikesug4rvenom @ivysturnss @lormyaaa @slut4m4tt @sarahlovesyoualot @ilovemattsturniolo35 @melspam @daisy011 @matts-myloverboy @tsturniolo4 @mattsturnswife

[byooregard]

iwtv universe dashboard simulator

girlmand reblogged

😶‍🌫️gaysexinthecity Follow

not saying vampires are real but i think Daniel Molloy gets way too much shit . like if i was a pulitzer prize winning journalist in my seventies and some guy called me and was like im a vampire want an interview i wouldn't hesitate either. fuck man sure tell me about being a vampire. i'll believe you

🎆 magical-swiftie

reading Interview with the Vampire rn and Claudia and Madeline are sooo Long Face core

#now that i think of it a lot of tvl's songs fit this book really well #like #'she gave me life I gave her death'??? # that's so them!!!

🏞️ girlblogg1ng

btw if you're still listening to the vampire lestat, unfollow me now. and like, seriously consider why you're giving plays to a guy who appropriates ancient egyptian history for his vampire schtick, it's honestly sickening

#the vampire lestat #tvl #maintagging because people need to see this honestly #.txt

🌄sampire

keep seeing ppl try to cancel tvl for things hes said to his fans or how he talks about ancient egyptian mythology and not that song where he talks about fucking his mother. like im not crazy right he wrote a whole song about how he fucked his mother

💟 stingorarr

"we are your children/but what do you give us/is your silence/a better gift than the truth?" sounds like it should be some ancient Greek poetry but it's literally in a song by the vampire lestat!!!

it just hits so hard... like your parents gave you nothing but maybe the truth would be more unbearable than silence...

#tvl #the vampire lestat #twmbk #those who must be kept

sampire reblogged danielmxllxy

🌫️ beatlesrpf Follow

please tell me you guys arent serious about the vampire lestat. please tell me youre not stanning a man who wrote "im an actor in my makeup, i get fatter when we break up"

#guys please #this is worse than the tortured poets department

🤖 carrieblogging Follow

Based on your likes!

Hey, Tumblr, I need a little help here?

So, my best friend has been acting a little weird lately. Like, his sleep schedule has gotten really strange (stranger than normal 😅), and I haven't seen him without sunglasses on in a week?

His diet has changed, too, like he used to always be snacking whenever I'd call him, but now he doesn't eat anything that I can see.

He even cancelled our tickets to ComicCon!! I've been waiting to meet up with him for years, and now he's just bailed on me?!? I'm mad, but honestly more worried than anything....

#carrie speaks

🌌 marbellina124

guys I think I've found the vampire Armand at the MET 😏😂

#it doesn't match the dates from the book so like #yeah #but imagine.... #parisian mutuals you have a power that can be used

interview-with-the-glampire reblogged wormyworms

🪱 wormyworms Follow

mmm tbh the only reason i *don't* believe vampires are real is because if *i* was interviewing two vampires to write a book about their life? i would not be leaving that house without their fangs in my neck and eternal life. just saying

🌇 interview-with-the-glampire

understandable but have you considered. if I went to interview two vampires and got immortality and vampire sex out of that deal I wouldn't go around letting everyone know :/

danielmxllxy reblogged sampire

🌌 marbellina124

so were all in agreement he fucked that vampire right

#oh I think he fucked AT LEAST two of those vampires #iwtv #rb

[drewsbraziliangf]

nothing to say when heaven falls | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: what can you do when the person that’s supposed to understand and be on your side chooses to doubt your fears?

Word count: 1388

a/n: not edited, we die like soldiers!!!!! pls let me know if you wish to be added to my taglist

"How can't you see how disrespectful this is to me, Drew?" You ask with a strained voice and teary eyes. "Everywhere you go she's looming like a shadow."

"She's my friend, what do you want me to do?" Exasperated, he asks.

"I don't know. Maybe tell her that your fiancé doesn't feel comfortable with her following you around, traveling abroad to see you or fuck, being all fucking touchy and handsy with you in public."

My throat was burning as the words slipped my mouth but I simply couldn't avoid it any longer. I am so tired of this whole situation and it has been going on for far too long. I just can't hold it back anymore.

"Can't exactly tell her what to do," he rolled his eyes this time.

"Really? Am I really asking for that much?" I look at the man in front of me with disbelief, "I just want to feel like I'm not invisible in my own goddamn relationship. She sees you more than I do and I am the one with a ring on my finger. How is this fair?" 

"Babe, listen, there's nothing going on between me and her. You have to believe me," he pleads as he runs his hands through his hair.

"You don't think I'm trying to believe you? I'm in the trenches everyday telling myself this over and over again, but how can I turn a blind eye to it when the first thing I see whenever I'm online is that you're both coincidently in the same city. For the millionth time."

I know that pulling this out in the open this way isn't the best option. But how could I keep bottling all of this up when it's causing such a heavy pain in my chest every time I see their names together?

It was always clear the perks of dating a public figure and I never backed out on it. Now seeing the man who asked me to spend the rest of my life with him and have his babies walking around with the woman everyone swears he was romantically involved with is messed up.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he admits as he walks away from me.

That felt like a punch. Because how could I make it anymore obvious? Do I have to draw it to a thirty year old why he should respect the woman he chose to propose to? 

“Are you for real right now?” I asked as I follow him into the kitchen of our shared apartment. “Did you really just said that to me, Joseph?”

At this point it felt like there was no going back anymore, either this was going to be totally fixed here or it wouldn’t at all. The bandaid was ripped and the wound was open and burning.

“How can you be so dull? You really can’t see what the problem here is?” 

I watch as he fills a glass with water and turns his back to me. He did it twice already. The off white walls of the kitchen lacked the warm they always brought when we were in it together. It felt claustrophobic and like the roof was going to fall over our heads at any given minute.

“You’re acting like I’m cheating on you. Like this is some major fuck up. It isn’t, you’re turning it into something it isn’t.” His tone was cold but looking at his posture it was clear that he was trying to maintain his calm.

The condescending tone in his voice made me want to shrink into myself and hide away from the world.

“Oh, right. Yeah, blame it on me for thinking that my fiancé going out of his way to be with his ex fuck buddy isn’t normal.”

“Careful,” he warns once finally looks at me.

“Or what, Drew? What else could you possibly do that will make me feel worse than I already do?” I challenge, my gaze locked on him as I wait.

After a few minutes of us staring down at each other, he shakes his head and sighs. 

“I’m not doing whatever this is. I’m done entertaining this,” he declares and he leans against the countertop.

Drew and I met around two years ago through a mutual friend. We instantly hit off and after a few dates, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend - which I obviously accepted. We had this instant connection that isn’t common. At first I was terrified of it, I knew who he was and the fact that his life was always being scrutinized by thousands of people. I knew what people said online about him and as we got closer and closer I couldn’t help but lose myself in the speculations about him even more.

Our relationship was great and we always made sure that each others boundaries were respected, so color me stoked to be in this situation right now. I am not dumb and every single day there is a needle pinching me making me think of stuff and situations like the one we find ourselves right now just indulge those thoughts.

In the early days of our relationship we made sure there were no secrets between us and past relationships. I knew I was his first black girlfriend, I knew he was born and raised in the South too. So joining that and the fact that I am an immigrant did make me scared of a lot of things, the main of them being the fact that it isn’t uncommon at all for men to always find their way back to that they are used to. 

So seeing her upon him all the time while people online barely know about our relationship feels like hell. Because even though I’m in family pictures that his sisters post online, and the very visible ring on my finger I am never considered the option of being his significant other. She is. Every single time. And he never did anything about it - hell, he never even set boundaries with her and she knows that we’re together. Am I really reading too much into things? 

Being three months away from our wedding day, this isn’t the kind of thought or conversations I would like to be having. I should be fucking excited and dress hunting, but lately the only thing that I feel like doing is swallowing lumps and holding back tears, faking smiles and pretending I’m fine. I’m not, I’m fucking falling apart and I’m so tired of begging to be seen. 

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I am not comfortable with this and that you shouldn’t be either,” I point out as the first tear cross the edges of my cheeks. “I don’t know how else to ask you to respect our relationship.”

“I respect our relationship, I always did. I just don’t think that what you’re saying right now makes any sense. Whatever I had with her in the past is over.” He says as he runs one of his hands through his face.

“Drew, honey, you’re not seeing things from my point of view. Imagine if it was me catching planes every other day to be with someone that I was involved in with in the past. And all of our friends know that you and I are together. How would that make you feel?”

At that he says nothing but silence can mean many things, and in this case it means consent. 

Tired of this back in forth conversation, I reach for my phone that was besides his on the counter and as if the timing couldn’t be more right, the screen of his phone lights up with an incoming call. No surprise flashes through my features as I see the picture on the caller id, both of them in a mirror picture as they brush their teeth.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess watching as he reaches for his phone quickly declining the call. “Not when you’re up to your eyeballs into whatever this is. I’ll make the calls tomorrow and cancel the dates with the venue.”

I grab my phone and my purse and I walk towards the front door before he can say anything else, I’m closing it behind me. 

[gothcsz]

can we talk about javi angry fucking you? like for some reason you guys are having a HUUGE fight and something inside him just snaps and he takes you then and there, wherever you are. he sets a brutal pace and orders you to say his name but it's so much you can't!? ugh, excuse me, i am ovulating and this thought needed to be shared. I desperately need angry rough javi in my life

tags: f!reader, post s3!javi, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader has hair that can be pulled, reader understands spanish, term(s) of endearment (gatita), angst, cussing, break up, arguing, light dub con, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe irl), saliva as lube, a little bit of exhibitionism, creampie, hurt/no comfort i think, javi being an ass, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 2.1k w/c - gif found on pinterest

a/n: me when i read that you're ovulating. but okay, this prompt was just so angsty and juicy. tyvm for that! i couldn't help but connect this to my fantasize series (you guys should clock in. let's stalk javi together)— but it can totally be read as a standalone! enjoyyyyy 🖤

Dinner with Javier’s family is always a lively affair, filled with chatter, laughter, and the steady clinking of forks and knives against plates.

You’re doing your best to keep up, smiling at the stories being shared and listening to the good-natured teasing from his relatives. But then, one of his cousins starts talking about how Javier’s taking on more responsibilities at the family ranch, taking charge now that Chucho is preparing to step down.

He beams as he talks about it. “You should see Javi. Got the whole thing runnin’ like a machine, and he’ll be takin’ full ownership soon, ain’t that right, Javi?”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. Your eyes snap to your boyfriend, searching his face for any hint of explanation, an acknowledgment, anything that might explain what you’re hearing.

But he just nods with a slight, almost bashful smile, as though this was something you should’ve expected, something he had already told you. Except he hasn’t.

Your heart thuds painfully as your stomach twists, an uncomfortable heat spreading across your face. It’s been months of back-and-forth, of what you thought were shared dreams about moving to the city together, finding a way to make things work while your career takes off.

You’d convinced yourself you were on the same page. But here he is, making other plans, without even thinking to tell you.

You try to keep your tone light, but there’s an unmistakable edge in your voice. “Taking full ownership, huh? Guess that’s news to me.”

Javier shifts in his seat, glancing at you with a look that’s half-warning, half-apologetic. “I am his only son. It makes sense,” he responds, very matter-of-factly.

His family’s already watching, sensing the shift in the air, and there’s no pulling back now.

“Funny, I thought we were still talking about our plans to move to the city,” you force a smile on your lips, but the sting behind your words is unmistakable.

He sighs, clearly getting exasperated, looking at you as if to say, Not here. You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes, the quiet confusion as they look between you both, piecing together the fragments of a conversation they aren’t meant to hear.

You swallow hard, unable to bear the mix of embarrassment and betrayal.

Pushing back from the table, you excuse yourself, your voice tight. “I need a minute.”

You make it inside, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom, gathering your things with shaking hands. You know he’s going to follow you, and sure enough, a moment later, you hear the door creak open, then his heavy footsteps.

“What the hell was that?” He demands in a sharp tone, confusion and anger lacing his words.

You spin around, dropping your things onto the bed as you plant your hands on your hips. “Why didn’t you tell me about these new plans of yours, Javier?” 

He sighs heavily, hating when you use his full name, rolling his tongue over his teeth as he tries to find the right words. “Because I knew you’d be upset,” he says flatly, as though it’s an explanation that should satisfy you.

That’s his justification for keeping this from you? The anger inside you flares hotter, bubbling over as you let out a bitter laugh. “So instead, I get to sit there like a fool, blindsided, while your cousin tells me about the future you’re planning without even thinking to clue me in?”

“God, would you calm down?” he mutters, frustration tightening his features. “This isn’t something we need to talk about right now.”

You’re practically shaking, hurt clawing at you. “You don’t get it, do you? You said you’d try this with me. You promised we’d make this work together, that you’d support my career—our future.”

“This is me trying!” he snaps back, his voice rising in frustration. “Why are you being so damn selfish? I can’t just leave my pops to run this place by himself. He’s not getting any younger.”

You search his face, trying to understand, but all you see is irritation and defensiveness.

“He has other ranch hands. Other family. You promised.”

His eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his jaw clenched. “Why are you making this all about you?” he growls. “If I’d known things would end up like this, I would have left you back in Colombia.”

You’re stunned momentarily, speechless as the weight of his words sinks in.

You shake your head slowly, your voice cold as you look up at him. “You’re a piece of shit, Javier. I can’t believe you would say that to me.”

Your words strike a nerve, a phrase that’s been said to him by plenty of people yet hurting the most when you’re the one saying it. His eyes darken, expression shifting. “What did you just say?” he murmurs, cocking his head as he takes slow steps toward you.

“I said you’re a piece of shit, Javier,” you repeat, steady despite the tremor running through you. “And I’m done with—”

Before you can finish, his hand reaches up, wrapping around your throat tightly yet with careful pressure, and he pulls you close, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s unyielding and bruising.

Despite the fury burning inside you, your body responds, helplessly drawn to the passion only he can ignite.

Your hands find his shoulders, gripping tightly as he presses you back against the wall, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes your lips when a few of the photo frames rattle.

His mouth is punishing and you can barely breathe with how tight he’s holding you, but there’s something undeniably thrilling about it that licks right through you, even as the hurt from before lingers.

When he finally releases his hold on your neck, his hands become fervent, moving roughly along your body as if claiming you all over again.

Harshly groping your breasts, moving down to cup your ass— you can’t pull him close enough to let this anger turn into the twisted relief you both need.

Clothes fall away in frantic pulls and tugs, shirts and pants pooling on the floor, discarded and forgotten. Between desperate fingers and tongues, you’re too aware that, if you part, the argument will bubble back up, and you don’t want that to happen yet.

His lips move over your skin, leaving love bites that blaze hot and brand you with the one of a kind feeling of him.

You grip his triceps, nails digging in as you drink each other’s breaths, tasting the tension between you, until you’re bare, and your bodies meet in a tangle of angry lust.

He maneuvers you toward the window, your hands bracing against the glass instinctively, the cold against your chest making you gasp.

He presses against you from behind, his body heat searing, grounding you in the storm of emotions that threaten to pull you under.

Your bare breasts flatten against the window, and the chill of the glass has your nipples puckering.

He spits into his hand, tugging at his cock, running it through the sticky mess of your cunt before thrusting into you, making you take every glorious inch all at once.

You gasp loudly, almost choking on the sound. It’s intense, too much, yet somehow exactly what you need, pulling you deeper into the unfiltered feeling pulsing between you.

You aren’t as wet as he usually gets you, and the burn from the stretch of fitting him inside your tight, wet cunt  mimics the burn you’d felt in your heart at his indifference towards you. His girlfriend.

Javier leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he growls, “If they look over here, they’ll see you taking this cock like a real selfish slut.”

The words have your shivering, shocking and exhilarating, just as he is, and your head tilts back as you let out a strangled, breathy moan.

“Causing a scene in front of everyone,” he tuts mockingly, “¿No tienes modales, gatita?” (Don't you have manners?)

Your fingers splay against the window, nails scratching down the surface, making a grating sound, as he thrusts harder, each punch of his cock against that one specific weak spot is sending you closer to the edge.

His rhythm is exacting and every bit of you is caught between the pressure of the cold glass and the heat of his body.

“Say my name,” he orders, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging it harshly, holding you firm against his shoulder as he glares down at you, eyes glazed over with need and his dark brows pulled together in a frown.

Your scalp stings at the pull, pretty eyes rolling to the back of your head and your throat tightens, making it impossible for words to escape you. Your pussy throbs around him, losing the fight against the sensations he’s overwhelming you with.

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice roughened with irritation, but the pace continues to be relentless, borderline uncomfortable, your body bending to his will.

He’s pushed you to a point where you’re nothing but a quivering, whiny mess. The friction of your nipples rubbing against the glass leaves them tender and raw, adding another edge of pleasure-pain.

“Got you all fucked out you can’t even say my damn name.” He chuckles humorously, but it’s drowned out by a low groan as his cock twitches inside of you, the sound of your ass slapping back against his pelvis echoing throughout the room. 

“C’mon gatita, tell me who’s making you feel this good even when you’re pissed off.”

The way he taunts you makes your blood boil, and you have half a mind to turn around and slap him—but it’s so fucking hot and you’re not going to lie to yourself about that.

Instead, you smirk and deliberately clench around him, watching him groan as his fingers tighten in your hair. 

“No seas asi. Say it.” (Don't be like that) He pushes you forward, cheek smushed against the window as his palm presses into your lower back, arching you even more, and that has his cock fucking you at a different angle that is much more overwhelming than the last.

“Ay Javi!” You can’t help but exclaim, some of your saliva landing on the glass from how you spit his name out.

He smirks to himself, that’s all he needs to let his own orgasm rip through him. With one last harsh thrust, he grips your hips, driving deep, a sharp cry breaks free as pleasure shatters through you, your body shaking with release, unable to form a single coherent thought except his name.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, burying his cock fully inside you, his heavy balls pressing against your swollen clit as he fills your cunt with his load.

His forehead falls against your shoulder, teeth then nipping at the damp skin until he’s kissing up to bury his face in your neck.

Your brain is foggy, and it takes a few seconds of you trying to catch your breath before your heart and mind are in sync again and the argument that led to this resurfaces. 

“Javier,” you murmur, your throat scratchy, and you swallow before you can go on, “we shouldn’t have done that.”

He scoffs, pulling out of you, making the both of you hiss. You feel his warm cum leaking from your spent pussy and your thighs twitch, inadvertently making more of it flow out. You quickly bend down to grab your underwear, using it to clean yourself, trying to clear both the physical and emotional remnants of him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already moving, pulling on your clothes. “I’m done.”

Fully dressed, you watch his expression shift, and it almost makes you second-guess the words you’re about to say. Almost.

“We gave it a shot and clearly, it’s not working. Nuestras prioridades no se alinean.” (Our priorities don't align)

“No seas ridícula,” (Don't be ridiculous) he waves you off and that makes you feel so small. “What’s best for us is to stay here.”

You laugh dryly at the sting of his dismissal. You’re tempted to pinch yourself to check if this is real—wondering if this is the same Javier that practically begged you to come back to the States with him.

He’s not acting like the agent you fell in love with.

“No, what’s best is for us to go our separate ways.” Finality settles into the quiet like stones. “We rushed into this, we let the chase and the sex take the lead without thinking it through.” You shake your head, haphazardly packing to keep from falling apart entirely.

“I should have seen this coming. I’m such an idiot.” Now I see why a handsome man like you was single.

You should have remained the woman you were before him, independent, career focused—the one that avoided relationships like the plague because they only ended in disappointment.

Case in point. 

He remains silent as he watches you pack the rest of your things and it really breaks your heart. He isn’t even trying to stop you.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @angiewatson . @sunshinefive .

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Different II

Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader

Summary: You get your diagnosis

There's a lot of hoops to jump through to finally work out what's wrong with you.

Mam doesn't like you using those words. She doesn't like referring to it as 'what's wrong with you'. She tells you that you're perfect. Nothing is wrong with you. You're perfect the way you are.

There's nothing wrong. You're jumping through these hoops so Katie can finally understand how to help you.

You meet with the paediatrician who makes follow-up appointments for you with a psychologist and an occupational therapist.

The psychologist rules out things like dyscalculia and dyslexia. She says you don't have anxiety and depression either.

You go to the occupational therapist. He runs you through a series of tests. At first, it's big things like jumping or using a skipping rope before he moves onto the smaller things like holding a paintbrush and placing weird pegs things into small holes.

You go back to the paediatrician.

"Dyspraxia," Katie says that evening as you both sit on her bed together," That's what it's called. Dyspraxia."

"I know," You say," I was in the room with you when we got told."

She's holding the pamphlet and folder that the doctor had given you, explaining all the ins and outs of the condition.

It's nothing that you haven't experienced first-hand. You imagine all of these documents were made for parents of little kids who got diagnosed. You imagine it's more for Katie's benefit than your own.

You know what it's like to live with this condition. You know what to expect and how to adapt.

Katie is the one that will be reading those pages front to back, well into the night even though she's got training the next day.

You're off school for the week.

One of the gas taps in the science laps has started leaking so the whole school was shut down as a precaution.

You're more than happy to tag along to training, stealing one of the muffins from the dining hall to eat by yourself out on the pitch.

"So," Kim says as she sits next to you," I heard from Katie that you finally got that diagnosis."

You shrug. "It's nice to have a name for it now. I think Mam's read that folder at least ten times now. I don't know if she even got any sleep last night."

"That sounds like Katie." Kim nudges you with her knee. "How are you feeling about it?"

"It is what it is," You reply, picking at your muffin," Mam said that she's still trying to take it all in. I don't know if that's good or bad."

Katie had been resistant at first. She hadn't wanted you to get tested for anything. You were perfect the way you were and she didn't want anyone to make you think otherwise.

She was all denial.

Deny, deny, deny.

You were brutal acceptance.

There was something that made you different to the other kids. There was something that made you different to most other people you had ever met.

You don't know now what Katie thinks of your diagnosis, this new label to stick on yourself.

You don't know if it'll change how she thinks of you. If she'll think you're less perfect now that you've got something official to say that you aren't.

"Katie loves you," Kim says," That won't ever change. You're her kid."

"I'm not a kid," You grumble and Kim laughs.

"You're her teenager then," She corrects," But she does love you and all she wants is to give you the best possible life."

"Yeah but-"

"It's not going to change anything," Kim insists," Okay? Katie loves you."

You don't doubt that. You've never doubted that.

You just hope Katie doesn't doubt it either.

She paces in front of you that evening and you hold your breath.

"I've talked to your school," She says," They're working on getting you a school-issued laptop but for the time being you're allowed to bring in one of ours from home. You'll get extra time for your exams and the teachers are going to start giving you more handouts rather than making you write everything up."

"Wait...what?"

"What do you mean what?"

You frown. "Mam...I...I don't get it."

"You're getting accommodations," katie says, sitting right next to you," Because you're different to the other kids and need a bit more support. You're a smart kid. You just need to do things a little differently. We're getting you help."

"Mam, I..." You don't quite know what to say. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Katie says," I love you. I'm just making sure you get what you deserve."

[tpwk-formula1]

Omg hi. I just found you and cheered. I have a order.

Lando Norris, Thick Crust, Red Sauce,

Cherry Tomatoes, Root beer, Mango Smoothie,

Aftercare

If you could maybe make it a dizzy, inconcent reader where people flirt with her and she dosnt now and flirts back and Lando thinks the only way for people to leave her alone would be if she pregnant with his child. And he definitely has feelings for her. 🤭

✨️THANK YOU ✨️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex cherry tomatoes "I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies" root beer daddy kink mango smoothie baby trapping dessert yes served by Lando Norris

Lando x Ditzy! reader

AN: Okay! So I am so sad that I had to close my requests early but in a week I got over 100 requests which is fucking amazing and I am so happy for them but I want to make sure requests are coming out in a timely manner so I will be completely all requests within the next few weeks and once the Pizzeria is back open it will be a rebrand... So if you have any prompt ideas, kinks, or overall things you want to see get added to the menu just send me a message and I'll see what I can do!

TW breeding kink, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, rough sex, creampie, jealous Lando

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Danny! You can't just say things like that," I laugh loudly with the Australian in front of me. I can feel my cheeks growing red from the sexual joke Daniel just cracked.

I can feel a hand on my lower back making me look over my shoulder to find Lando making my smile grow more before I lean up and place a kiss on his cheek.

"What are you two up to?" Lando questions with a slight edge in his voice.

"Was just telling, Y/N about my summer break," Daniel says with a smile. I watch as Lando's face grows in a smile before he's ushering us towards the bar.

"Don't wander to far," Lando tells me making me look up and smile.

"Okay, babe!" I say when I place a kiss on his cheek.

"Are you okay?" I ask Lando softly making him nod his head before flagging the bartender down and ordering both of us drinks.

As time passed I found myself talking with Charles and Ollie.

"Charles! You'll have to invite me over sometime!" I tell Charles as he finishes telling me how he finally got Leo to stop peeing in the kitchen.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt but I'm just gonna steal her away. We have early morning plans so I gotta get this one off to bed," Lando says randomly interrupting making me raise a brow before trying to speak.

"Say bye," Lando tells me before I can even say anything.

I just turn back towards the two men waving a good bye before following Lando out of the club.

"I literally told you not to wander off," Lando snapped when we finally hopped into our Uber.

"Lando, I could see you the whole time," I reply back softly not understanding why he was so mad.

"Could you? Cause there was a solid 5 minutes where I was wandering around to find you," Lando tells me roughly making me huff and turn my back on him to look out the window.

Lando and I sat in silence for the rest of the car ride when we finally pulled up to his apartment building instantly making me get out and march to the front doors not waiting for Lando.

When we get into his apartment I lock myself in his bathroom still not wanting to talk to him, but eventually I had to face him and when I walked out of the bathroom I was changed into a silky sleep dress while Lando was sitting in bed in his boxers.

"I don't wanna see you entertaining men anymore. You're mine," Lando says not even looking up from his phone.

"Last time I checked, you were the one who was adamant we were nothing more than sex and money," I reply back while climbing into the bed next to Lando.

"Do you see the way you walked into my home like it was yours? How you climb into MY bed like it was yours? The way you have half my closet full of your stuff? That's all because you're mine, whether it has been a discussion or not, you have come into my life and fucked up any prior deal, so fucking sue me if I set a boundary with you," Lando finally snaps back making me look around his room realizing that over the year of us hooking up for money I had basically moved in. I had made his home our home and I didn't even realize.

"Lando, I think we should have this discussion when we are both fully sober," I tell him softly. I knew what I wanted sober or drunk I wanted Lando to be mine but was this just some drunk game Lando was playing.

"No, I'm barely fucking tipsy., I didn't even realize you didn't realize you were mine. I thought it was unspoken," Lando tells me softly before turning towards me and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Do you know how many men want to fuck you?" Lando questioned with a raised brow making me laugh slightly.

"Lando, you're the only man who wants to fuck me," I reply back with a roll of the eye.

"You're mine," Lando said moving topics again and pulling me in for a heated make-out session.

I quickly climb into Lando's lap and grind my bare pussy against his briefs making his groan slightly.

"I'm gonna put a baby in you," Lando tells me softly making me sit up and stare at him in complete shock.

"The fuck are you on about now?" I ask Lando before he pulls me back into for a kiss where he flips us over so I am now under Lando letting him grind into me backing me whimper.

"You're mine and when you walk around that fucking paddock in 6 months everyone will fucking know you're mine," Lando said while trailing kisses down my neck making it clear he was marking his territory.

"You're insane," I whisper back but it quickly turns into a moan because Lando is leaning down and taking a soft lick out of my clit.

"Daddy," I moan when Lando starts sucking on my clit while lightly teasing my soaked hole with his fingers.

"Oh fuck," I scream out when Lando slips 2 fingers in and finds my G-spot.

"I want you to cum on my fingers," Lando says while speeding his actions making me feel the band in m stomach start to grow tight letting me know I was close to cumming for Lando.

"Daddy," I scream out when the band finally snaps and I'm cumming all over Lando's fingers. Lando helped ride my orgasm out before he's pulling his briefs down and roughly shoving his cock deep into my pussy.

"Oh! Daddy," I gasp still not fully recovered from my previous orgasm and can already feel a second one building up.

"Fucking hell, so damn needy already gonna cum for me," Lando said with a smirk while bringing his hand down to my clit and giving it a rough rub bringing me closer to the edge.

"Daddy," I whine when I feel myself reach the point of no return, cumming all over Lando's cock with a shout. I was shaking and so long in my own pleasure, I don't feel Lando's hips shutter as he fills my pussy full of his cum.

"I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies," Lando groans with a smirk while slowly pulling out of me.

"Lando, I probably didn't get pregnant from one time," I tell him softly with a laugh falling from my lips.

"I'll fuck you until you do," Lando says with a shrug. That night we fell asleep tangled in each other's arms.

6 weeks later

"Fucking hell," I gasp while staring down at the positive pregnancy test.

"I told you, you were gonna have my babies," Lando said with a proud smirk.

"Lando, what the fuck are we gonna do?" I ask starting to panic.

"Hey, calm down! It's all gonna work itself out," Lando tells me softly while pulling me into his chest.

"I can't wait to see everyone's face when you show up to the paddock supporting a bump caused by me baby," Lando tells me making me laugh lightly.

I knew we would figure everything out. It wasn't how I pictured myself getting pregnant but boy am I happy it's how it happened.

[dekariosclan]

With you, I forget my goddess

So, I have completed Bg3 twice now, but on both runs I’ve romanced Gale (truly shocking, I know) and therefore I had never seen Gale’s non-romance discussion with Tav about the Annals of Karsus.

I recently got to see it, and what surprised me the most is how extremely angry and bitter Gale is about Mystra’s treatment of him. Rightfully and understandably so, but it’s something we do not see or experience in the romance version.

This got me thinking about the difference in Gale’s reactions in the friendship vs romance scenes, why they are different, and also how this relates to the complaints I’ve read about Gale ‘still not being over Mystra even when romancing Tav’.

(Note that I’m mainly going to focus on the portions of each dialogue that relate to Mystra in particular, and I’m not referencing the ‘alternate’ boat scene w/Gale—where he tells you beforehand that he will return the crown to her—since he doesn’t mention Mystra at all there.)

Screencaps below are from @munmomuu’s wonderful video on YouTube. The screencaps take place after Gale has read the Karsus book. If you are romancing him, before you reach this point, the conversation ends because he tells you he wants to discuss it later “in private,” during the boat scene.

But in a friendship run, he will explain what he’s read to you and then begin to make his case for using the crown:

Gale: Some gods may delude themselves into believing they care about their worshippers, but when it comes down to it - we’re all expendable. Children to be appeased, not respected.

Gale: I worshipped Mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power I was ready to wield.

Gale: Even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. She’s done nothing to help us.

There then comes a dialogue branch where Tav can ask this:

And Gale replies, with understandable bitterness:

Gale: She sent me to die.

Look at how angry he is during this whole exchange, and how he focuses all that anger on the past, and what Mystra has done to him (or not done, as he points out she’s offered them no help at all.)

— — —

Now let’s compare this to his Mystra dialogue in the boat scene:

Gale: I’ve already defied Mystra. Had I followed her command, there’d be nothing left of me but a smoking crater.

Gale: The tadpoles, the orb - these threats to our existence - the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind Ao. So let us act ourselves.

Gale: I used to believe Mystra’s forgiveness was worth dying for. But I was wrong. You showed me just how much I have to live for.

Notice how there’s no fiery anger at Mystra here, just Gale’s resigned belief that the Gods have failed them.

So what’s the key component that makes Gale react so differently in each scenario?

It is, of course, Tav.

More specifically, it’s Tav’s love for him, which has clearly helped his heart heal from the trauma that he’s experienced. Yes, Tav’s friendship is extremely important as well, and yes, Gale is still insecure even with Tav’s love (‘you would really prefer me as I am?’) but the extreme bitterness, the anger, all of that is gone. Here, Gale is no longer hung up on Mystra and the past; he’s looking to the future. Because now that he has Tav, what he desires most is to take his life and his fate back from the Gods and into his own hands—with Tav at his side.

The irony is that some people complain about Gale ‘not being over Mystra’ while he’s actively romancing Tav, but just look at the difference in the dialogue! Look at how focused he is on Mystra when he is not romancing Tav, and then how she becomes a mere afterthought once Tav has claimed his heart.

I really enjoyed seeing this level of detail. I think it perfectly illustrates Gale’s frame of mind in each scenario, as well as showing the positive impact Tav’s love has on Gale.

And last but not least—it confirms that Gale was not exaggerating when he says this:

Gale: With you, I forget my goddess. I love you.

— — —

[ameliathornromance]

A Whole New World - Short Orc Romance

- When your Orc found you, you were in your Church with your other sisters of the cloth.

- They all prayed to the Gods.

- Gods that they wished would come, strike down these beasts who threatened your lives.

- The Church doors were difficult to get open, but your Orc did it. The doors burst off the hinges, crashed into the pews.

-Your sisters all took off running, leaving you behind.

- You tried to follow, but ended up tripping over your robes, falling on your front.

- Your Orc stormed towards you.

- You try to scramble away, desperate to escape your oncoming death, but it was no use.

- He was too big, too quick.

- You close your eyes, expecting a bludgeoning with that horrifying club he had clutched in his hand. You raise your hands above your head and cower for your life.

- Any moment now, any second now, he is going to bring that club down on your head.

- But nothing came.

“They left you.”

You squint open your eyes. Between your arms, you stare at him. His expression pained, his endless black eyes staring at you with… sympathy? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing; An orc, sympathetic?

The club slips from his hand, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Stooping to one knee, he bends down to your height. “Those who you called sisters have abandoned you.”

You dare to look around. Hoping to see a sister who was hiding behind the altar, a pillar, or anywhere. With some kind of weapon in hand, anything to help you get out of this situation alive. But it was barren. Empty of any kind of life whom had been begging for salvation.

He was right. They had. “To escape you, you who would kill me for praying for your death.” You hiss back at him. You didn’t dare believe him, wanted to retreat back into the collective opinion about Orcs. But it was too obvious to ignore his logic.

The words were harsh and sharp, the Orc did not flinch. “And who is here for you, now that I have come to take the lives of your people? Your Gods? Who you pray to, but have done nothing to protect you or your people from the raid of my brethren? Did not even force a fellow sister to stay and share in your fate, so that you would not have to go into the night alone?”

The words rang through you like the Church bell at the top of the steeple. Rooted you to the ground, the world you had built to protect yourself from the truth, crashed and burned. You couldn’t deny that he was wrong. Your so-called ‘sisters’ had abandoned you. Left you here at the mercy of this monster, not one of them had turned to try and help you back up.

A sigh escapes the Orc. “In our ranks,” he says, “we do not abandon our own.” The hand that held the club outstretches toward you. “Come. No one deserves to left alone.”

Anger had risen, spiteful and raging within your very soul. At that moment, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, the Orc was right. Your mind drifts back to what the Church had taught you about them, the Orcs. That they were monsters, born from the core of the Earth. Where Magma bubbled and boiled, where nothing should be able to survive. How your Church commanded that your sisters swear loyalty to one another. To protect each other and Holy Ground from defamation of the filth that rose from the Earth. To do it together. To die together, if it came to it.

The Gods had abandoned you and your sisters had left you. You gave your life for Gods who did not care.

This Orc, monster of the deep Earth, had shown you more decency in that moment. Than Gods or humans had done in the time you had been at the Church. Spite riddles through you. You take his calloused, rough hand.

- Travelling in an Orc caravan was not easy. They were loud, smelly and stupid. All except the Orc who had come for you.

- He was quiet, preferred to watch his others fight, drink and be rowdy with one another.

- At first, the rest of the group had ostracised you. “Humans are no good.” They would snarl. “Weak and useless.” But, after repairing a few of their clothes and cooking meals, they warmed up to you.

- They were kind to you... In their own way. Like the time when they left a whole dead sheeps’ carcass in your tent. The note left with it read: “For dinner this eve. Make or else.” Panicked, you went to find your Orc friend, who explained that this wasn't a threat. Far from it, as a matter of fact.

- They spoke to you that way because they spoke to their own like that.

- "My bretheren see you as one of us now." Rovi - the name of your Orc friend - explained.

“They’re quite the group.” You observe. You had thrown out your robes as soon as you could and replaced them with something that was far from Holy. Trousers and tunic that you had sewed together yourself and hair let down to your waist.

“Indeed.” Rovi agrees. He slurps the rest of the soup from his bowl. Fire crackles in the fire pit, the nights sky blankets the whole group of Orcs who proceed to play fight and snarl. This was apparently, a common pass time for Orcs, who beat the living snot out of each other as a show of comradery. “They will never hurt each other though.” Rovi assures you, putting the bowl beside himself. “We do not do that, unlike humans who abandon their own, kill their friends and steal for survival.”

You did not judge his impression of humans. Surely, you’d feel the same way too if a bunch of humans started chasing after you, desperate for your head. One thing, you could not understand for the life of you, was why Rovi had taken you in. Despite his obvious dislike for humans, he still offered you a place in his camp. Maybe It was as simple as he said: “No one deserves to left alone.”

Biting your lip, you tell him, “thank you for inviting me into your camp.” You meant it. If it weren’t for him, you would still be slaving away for Gods who had no interest in you.

Your Orc huffs, “better than being with humans who abandon their own.” He looks away from you. Back to the jeering crowd of his fellows, watching them clasp each others hands and pat each other on the back. A show of congratulations on a good fight.

- Your romance with him started when there was when you returned to your own tent.

- On your bed, was a small pouch of gold.

- Being in an Orc camp, you observed their customs and cultures. Often, when courting others, they would leave a small bag of gold in their crushes living quarters. A sweet, but simple gesture. Orcs loved their gold, even if they did not flaunt it. To do so was, frowned upon and compared to the Lords who wore those stupid puffy trousers and powdered tall wigs.

- You did not know who the pouch had come from, but you immediately thought that your Orc friend had been the one to do it. But you had to double check. And so you would gauge his reaction to it.

“Look!” You rushed over to him. Waving the bag of gold up to him, you beamed, “someone likes me! I found it on my bed when I got back from washing in the river!”

Rovi, returning from a hunt and carrying a, poor dead stag on his back, looked at you, then the open bag, gold glittering in the sunlight. “Was there a note?” He asked you, dropping it to the ground.

The rest of the hunting party grumbled annoyances at him, dragging the meat away. Rovi ignored them.

“No, there was just this bag. I wonder who it could be!” Your eyes dart across the camp, looking to the cooks, who were now busy skinning the stag, to other Orcs who were busy tending to a fire and talking in their mother tongue and to those who were busy trying to read from tiny human books they stole from villages.

“Best not to think about it,” Your Orc mutters. “Small pouch of gold like that? They can’t be that interested in you.” And with that, he lumbers off.

You frown. You thought for sure it would be him. His reaction made your heart sink in your chest. Sighing, you walk back to your tent, tossing the small bag onto your desk and clambering onto your bed. You sigh. If it was not him, then who could it be?

Unfortunately, you had noted that there was a fair amount of guess work that had to happen when it came to this as well. Usually, it went over well – the admired knew who their admirer was, and they got together. But, in rare instances, where the admired got their guess wrong: The admirer would challenge the guessed person to combat and they would fight. Not a play fight. An actual battle.

It was rare, but not rare enough to avoid being discussed by the rest of the camp. You had never seen one yourself, and if you could, you’d like to avoid it at all costs. You like everyone in the camp, care about them all , you didn’t want anyone to get hurt. One had to assume, that if two Orcs vied for the same person... You didn't want to think about that.

- You had thought long and hard about who it could be. You had become close with everyone in the camp, it wasn’t like there was anyone who stuck out to you.

- Truth be told, disappointment stirred in your gut.

- You had hoped that it would Rovi who had been the one to give you that pouch. He was kind and caring, even if he was a bit rough around the edges. He gave you a whole new life, it seemed almost right that you would fall for him. After he was able to show you the rest of the world, when you may have stayed with the Church for the rest of your days.

- The next day, you went to go and do what you had to do by the river, coming back to your tent and your jaw dropping.

A pouch – you couldn’t even call it that – a sack full of gold had spilled out onto the floor in your tent. You wondered if you’d gone mad. Startling you, a cheer erupted from outside your tent. What the Hell is going on?!

You ran out and into the main area, where a ring of tall, hulking Orcs had formed. You stood on tip-toes, jumped to try and get a look at the brawl that had just started, but had to resolve to pushing your way through the rambunctious crowd. Once the other Orcs realize who it was trying to get through, they bark at their others: “Get out of the way! Let (Y/N) through! It about her after all!”

About you? More desperate now, you finally found your way to the edge of the ring just in time to see Rovi swing a right hook, directly into the jaw of his other. The other Orc goes flying, his landing in front of you sent shudders through the floor. You recognise him immediately as Barrow, a chef who you often spent time with in the kitchens. He was an Orc of very little brains, but he made a mean rabbit stew. He made some inappropriate jokes to you occasionally, but apart from that, he kept mostly to himself.

“That’s all you offer?!” Rovi roars, “pathetic!”

Barrow was out cold, your Orc friend’s chest heaving up and down. “What’s going on?!” You shout over the jeering Orc crowd.

Rovi’s face, goes from a furious, angry scowl, to soft at the sight of you. Rather harshly, he kicks Barrow out of the way and kneels down to your height. “I’m afraid I haven’t been up front with you,” he begins.

The rest of the Orcs are still watching, but now quiet. Your ears rang with the silence, so used to their loud and obnoxious shouting that it was unsettling to hear silence.

“I know that humans are more upfront with their courting practices so allow me to conform to your culture… And I couldn’t allow Barrow to offer you something so insignificant and small as one pouch of gold… So... Would you be mine, (Y/N)?”

Stunned into silence, you bit your lip. Smiling, you ask, “so the extra large sack of gold was you?”

Rovi grumbles and looks away from, a small dusting tinge dusting his orc green cheeks. “Well, I had to do something…” He mumbles. “I had to do something to show you I am superior… if this one hadn’t beaten me to it.” He shoots another dirty look at Barrow, who seems to have awoken in a daze. “The combat was necessary to tell him to back off.”

“I think the gold was more than enough.” You wrap your arms around his muscular shoulders and pull him close. “Thank you for everything, Rovi.”

He freezes for a moment and then returns your gesture, holding you tenderly in that moment. The both of you don’t even hear the crowd of Orcs erupting with cheers and shouts of happiness.

It’s just the two of you. And that’s all that matters in that moment.