#going to college made a difference in how I see things and I've been able to make so many positive changes in my life

[beepyandbitchy]

I can’t believe I’ve been using tumblr all wrong for 8 whole years... I just never enabled custom themes before. It changed the way I saw everything and all makes so much more sense now...

Also I never actively used tags to look for stuff I just followed enough people that I never ran out of things to Reblog. (which I left tagless of course because I was too shy to  really talk...) 

It wasn’t until creating this blog that I realized on a deeper level how important actively engaging in a community, Searching for the stuff it creates and participating in the ongoing conversation it creates was for the experience.

It’s okay to try and fail, things are confusing when they’re new. 

[domain-expand-me]

I've been going bonkers over Megumi x DILF!Reader because I know that boy has some serious daddy issues, having the reader being completely oblivious and doing things that definitely get the boy hot and nervous is MY SHIT.

I would love to see you expand on your writing about DILF/MILF reader with Megumi a bit more

Imagine

Megumi Fushiguro with a DILF!reader

Aged up characters, reader is in theirs 40s, cuz when i say dilf i mean it.

Imagine being the stereotypical dilf. Body broad and covered in a layer of fat, laying on top of strong muscles that comes from many years of physical labor. After moving into the house near the sorcerer campus, maybe after you got divorced, you somehow end up attracting the different sorcerers in the area.

But most of all, Megumi sticks around the most. You don’t truly notice at first, too busy digging around under the hood of whatever junker car you spend your time on, or banging around in your garage or shed like the most stereotypical dilf. But you start seeing him more and more, and at some point, you just start telling him to hand you different tools or help you out with your yard.

The first time you pat him on the back and praise him for helping, he goes bright red and immediately feels how hard he gets. Being oblivious and just thinking hes sticking around to be nice, you just ruffle his hair and move on, unaware of the way Megumi feels like his knees were about to buckle.

The other members from the campus notice pretty quickly where Megumi runs off to each day. Well, maybe not Yuji, but the others figure it out quicker than Megumi wants. Him returning with oil stains and wearing one of your ancient band t-shirts doesn’t help his case though.

Imagine Megumi realizing he has a huge daddy kink because of you. You jokingly say something like “who’s your daddy” after doing some kind of difficult task, and Megumi almost drops the toolbox he’s holding, blood rushing to both his heads, and he has to use the toolbox to cover the throbbing bulge in his pants.

Imagine Megumi coming to you for “dating advice”, since he wouldn’t be able to find it in himself to just make a move on you. Instead, he gets your dating history, and all the moves you pulled to get your ex. When he learns you are also into men, he almost has a heart attack. Maybe you’ve been drinking, having also offered Megumi some, since who are you to stop, and as you a slightly tipsy, you end up describing the best way to go down on someone in bed, and how to make a partner stay just from rocking their world on the regular.

Megumi ends up laying in bed later that night, teary eyed and huffing the shirt you let him borrow that day, his other hand tugging at his aching hard shaft, his entire body shaking and jolting from overstimulation as he made himself come over and over just thinking about you.

Imagine Megumi buying his first personal toy because of you. One day when you are laying by your pool, a pool you built yourself with Megumi’s help, naked as you assume you are alone, and you are too old to feel ashamed of your body. He gets a nice view of your cock, and even though its soft, he stumbles over his feet to hurry back to campus to take care of his very aching problem.

He spends a couple of lust fueled hours finding the perfect shape and size, getting a toy that has your skin tone. The next morning what one might call late post-orgasm clarity hits him. But when Megumi gets the package, he still squirrels it away, ashamed to use it. That is, until you just wind the poor boy up too much, walking around shirtless and sweaty, baseball cap on your head and shorts from your college days.

Imagine Megumi fingers deep in himself as he tries his damnest to suck down the entire length of the toy, tears gathering in his eyes as his gag reflex struggles against the silicone being forced down his throat.

Imagine Megumi clutching the sweaty shirt you had been wearing that day to his nose as he bounces on the toy, his own hard cock bouncing with his movements as he whines and whimpers, licking and sucking at the shirt that tastes and smells just like your sweaty manly musk.

Imagine how lightheaded he gets when he comes, having to choke down the noises he makes so as to not let everyone on campus know what he’s doing. Afterwards Megumi flops down on the bed, his entire frame shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants into the sheets. His shaft gives another twitch when he takes another inhale of your shirt, the spikey haired sorcerer pushing himself up again, sinking down on the toy once more even as his insides throb from sensitivity.

Megumi would be too nervous and flushed around you to make a move on his own, at least when you are sober. But if you happen to be a little more than tipsy one day, sitting on your couch, trying to find something worth to watch on the tv, he might find the bravery and balls to crawl into your lap. If you ask about it the next day, he can just act like it was something your mind made up, right? So for now, he could indulge himself, grinding against you like a pup in heat, panting into your neck as your strong large hands grope at his hips and ass, your deep voice rumbling praise in his ear.

[sketch-twentytwo]

I'm going to get some flack for this but—despite enjoying Fairly Odd Parents: A New Wish quite a lot, I find Timmy Turner was the more compelling protagonist.

Don't get me wrong, Hazel is a fantastic and lovable addition to the show, but I find a lot of her shenanigans aren't as fun or snappy as Timmy's.

I don't really see the reason why Hazel of all people needs fairies. Her brother is off at college but he visits and still clearly loves and cares about her. Her parents get busy from time to time but they're there when it matters and they also love her very much. Her mother is probably the busiest of the two, but she still makes time for her daughter.

The catalyst of the pilot is Hazel running away to see her brother because she wasn't handling the move right away, but very quickly after all this she is able to make friends and maintain an upbeat attitude.

I don't think Hazel needs to be soul crushingly miserable for the show to work, but maybe a spare line here or there about how Fairly World/Da Rules went through a MASSIVE overhaul after a certain, infamous, pink-hatted god-child shook things up could've been nice (Jorgen mentioning that the world has improved since Timmy was a kid, so the qualifications for misery have been loosened?).

It might be the childhood nostalgia talking, but I liked Timmy as a character. He was a ten year old boy who made wacky and wild decisions, whose character only got ruined from the show running too long. If Timmy had gotten the FOP:NW treatment, I think we could've had so much potential for character growth and continuity. (I've made the executive decision not to count seasons 9 and 10 as canon because everything up to that point felt OG!FOP to me).

I see posts saying that Timmy's problems were external while Hazel's are internal, but despite her supposed internal struggles, Hazel is very emotionally mature. Again, I don't think she needs to be MISERABLE and EXTREMELY insecure, but her life pre-fairies doesn't seem that different than her supposed life without. Even without Cosmo and Wanda, I'm sure she would've been able to befriend her classmates, eventually get through to Dev, and find happiness in her life.

I guess my fondness of Timmy is that his fairies were his family. Cosmo and Wanda were like his adopted parents. Poof/Peri was his brother. He had no one else. And I guess I wish I could've gotten a quality ending for him. I need closure! I wanna know how he's doing in FOP:NW. I want to see that he's happy and thriving (and maybe a reunion between him and his family).

Timmy, for all his childishness, selfishness, and pettiness, was a good kid at heart. He was ten years old for crying out loud! Ten year olds tend to be immature lil' kids. I excuse some of his wilder wishes. All he really wanted was acceptance and love and he cared for his Fairy God Parents so, so much. Cosmo and Wanda have a HALL OF TIMMY in their house, for crying out loud!

Hazel is a good protagonist and I'm glad she's in the show, but Timmy holds a special place in my heart. In my heart of hearts, the HALL OF TIMMY still exists somewhere in C+W's house/appartment and he will forever be their son.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Favorite Pet

Tease Me (2)

BDSM Preformer!Fem!Reader! X subby! Wanda

Summary: You find yourself alone in bed, but that's okay because you can smell breakfast

Warnings: None! Here you all go have some fluffy morning after loving.

Word Count: 1,570

A/N: I promise pt 3 is going to be full of smut once more, but I wanted to explore their morning after.

You woke up to the smell of bacon stretching out on your king sized bed. Your back is popping after a week of staying on Kate and Yelena’s couch. You fell asleep on the couch, right? Did Wanda move both of you in here?

You got up feeling cold from only wearing a tank top and shorts to bed, grabbing one of your throw blankets and making your way out to the kitchen to find Wanda there, swaying her hips to music as she made breakfast. You smirked and watched her for a moment before speaking up,

“Damn I could get used to this.” you startle her a bit with your voice, but she sees you smiling. You saw the blush on her face as you walked over, wrapping your arms around her waist and looking up.

“I tried waking you up earlier, but you refused so I figured I'd start making breakfast for you Mommy.” Her voice was so soft right now. You were an absolute menace to try and wake in the morning.

“You don't have to call me that outside of the club or the bedroom. Please just call me by my name.” you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss her.

“Are you sure? All my previous-” You cut her off before she can finish that sentence.

“Wanda. I'm sure.” you tell her putting emphasis on her name. “Outside those spaces you're Wanda and I'm Y/N. We are two people and not just our roles.” She simply nods and you kiss her again.

“Okay well Y/N I've made breakfast I hope you like bacon, eggs, and pancakes.” Wanda smiled and so did you.

“I love those things. I'll grab the juices and milk.” You untangled yourself from her grabbing out the pitchers for the two of you.

As the two of you sat and ate you talked about a lot of things and got to know each other better. Conversation with her seemed to flow easily between the two of you. You had never felt this way before. You were typically a guarded person especially after her though opening up didn’t even feel like you were. Instead it felt more like getting reacquainted with an old friend.

“So you have this place because of working at the club right?” Wanda asked looking around my spacious penthouse.

“Yeah Tasha helped me get it originally since it was close to the club and honestly I came from nothing. My parents were poor when I was a kid, but it was by choice. Neither of my parents wanted to work and didn't care that my brother and I were starving. I took care of my brother and raised him. He lived with me for a bit and still comes by, but he went off and became a businessman. He's climbed the ladder to almost being the CEO of the company he works for.” You’re reminded of just how different you and your brother turned out.

“You must be proud of him.” you smile, pushing around the little food left on your plate.

“I am. Sometimes I wonder if he feels the same about me.” You admit solemnly.

“I'm sure he understands that without you doing this he wouldn't have been able to be where he is. You paid for his college right?”

“Yeah through the fucking teeth…” you definitely didn't want to mention fucking the dean to get him in or lowering his tuition rates.

“Then I'm sure he understands. My brother on the other hand is just as bad as me. He creates, designs, and builds BDSM gear like beds and crosses and shit. He's really good at it and runs his own business with a couple of his buddies.” Wanda told you.

“Hmmm I'd love to meet him. I have a spare room I've always wanted to turn into a playroom.” Wanda blushed a scarlet red. You wanted to keep teasing her, but your phone was going off,

“Ughhhhhhhhh!” you picked it up quickly changing your tone, “Hi Tasha. You’re interrupting my breakfast so please make it quick.”

“Wow rude and here I thought you had a good night.” she responded, but you could tell she was smiling.

“Oh I did so good in fact it has continued into breakfast so again if you could make it quick.” I snip at her really not wanting to do this until later.

“Of course it has. Finally back on the horse I see. Well that’s good, anyways since you’re both there I expect to see you tonight.” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do. Were people asking for us?” you put the call on speaker.

“Of course they were. You two gave the best performance last night. You’re lucky I’m nice and let you keep all those tips. Most places would take some from you especially with how much you made last night.” you chuckled at her words. As tough as Tasha could be on you she was also soft; she knew you too good at this point.

“Well thank you Tasha for taking such good care of us. When will we be preforming tonight?”

“Opener and then a solo from each of you later in the night once aftercare is done let me know and we’ll work you in.” You could hear the sound of her typing in the background probably trying to figure out the schedule of performers for tonight.

“Okay Tasha. We’ll be there for 5.”

“Okay once your solos are done you’re free to go tonight because Friday I want you two to do multiple shows.” You groan a bit doing multiple shows was always hard for you. It takes a lot out of you to go from Dom to not to Dom again.

“Fine...” You replied reluctantly to your best friend. You knew she heard your tone, but chose not to call you out on it.

“Okay I’ll see you two tonight and I’m glad you found someone again Y/N/N.” You rolled your eyes. Trying to take the phone off speaker before Wanda could hear it.

“Yup kay bye.” You hung up, throwing your phone over onto the couch.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Wanda asked concerned.

“Nothing amor. I just get frustrated sometimes. It’s not that I don’t like this job because I do. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known it’s just difficult for me sometimes. I have to get into the right headspace. Also I’m not going to lie doing more than one show in a night can be exhausting and I want to make sure you have a good time. I’ve just never been good with multi show nights.” Wanda reached across the table, holding your hand,

“Everything is going to work out fine because this time you’ll have me.” She was smiling, biting her lip as her nose scrunched up.

“You are absolutely beautiful amor. I am so lucky...” You let your words trail off. All Wanda is, is my stage partner, nothing more, and you feel yourself curl into yourself ever so slightly as you retract your hand.

You see her searching your face as to why you pulled away, “Sorry did I do or say something wrong?” Wanda asked and you felt a pit in your stomach.

“No, no meu amor. I just get stuck in my own head. I’m sorry. I have a lot going on with myself and sometimes I’m my own worst enemy. If I ever start pulling away just pull me back harder please?” Wanda is speechless for a moment. “I-if you want to that is you don’t-“ Wanda pushes aside her plate and then your own, climbing on the dining room table and making her way into your lap.

“I’ll pull you so deep you’ll be drowning in me and forget all your problems.” Wanda husked against your lips, making you lean up, chasing her lips for a kiss as she keeps pulling back until you’re whining,

“Wands...” You were pouting and looking up at her, “Please?” She smirked and finally let you kiss her, melting against her as you sighed into it. You needed this, you needed her. You need her? How are you so deep already? How did she do this to you?

“Y/N/N?”

“Hmmm?” You let your eyes flit open and look up at her.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, never had a partner like you. Before last night I thought everything I’d experienced with a Dom was normal...I don’t think...no I know I don’t ever want to go back to that. I know it’s a little forward of me, but would you please continue to be my dom as well as a partner I can rely on?” You reached up and cupped her cheeks.

“If we’re being forward then I’d like to answer your question with a question. I would like to be those things and more so would you be my girlfriend?” You ask, feeling so nervous until she crashes her lips into yours, her hips rolling against you, moaning out at the feeling as you grab her hips.

“Yes. Yes I’d love that.” She husks out against your lips and this is a moment you want to remember forever, every part of it. The sound of her voice, the faint smell of breakfast, her vanilla perfume, the way her lips taste and feel against you, the pressure of her hips and your nails digging into them.

[tokkiwrites]

in which you finally come home from college. it's been almost 4 years, and you're shocked to see how hot your dad's best friend has gotten ㅡ but he can say the same for you.

tags: dbf!joel miller (yeppeee), dom!joel, sub!reader, afab reader, age gap (reader is 23 n joel is in his mid 40s), rough sex, unprotected p in v (wrap that up yall), pet names (lots of em), no use of y/n (ik shocking), spit, choking, trying to have sex in secret (idk what you call that), oh yeah readers dads name is William but every1 calls him Will ok?? pls let me know if i missed anything!!!

You step off the bus, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation as you gaze at the familiar sights of your small hometown. It's been four years since you last set foot in this place, and the memories flood back. You know you'll find your dad, Joel and Sarah waiting for you, but there's also that fluttering in your stomachㅡㅡ that secret crush on him that you've never quite been able to shake. As you walk down the street, you can't help but wonder how much things have changed.

Hopefully, not much.

As you approach your childhood home, you can't help but notice how the old oak tree in the front yard has grown taller, casting a welcoming shade on the well-worn swing that still hangs from its sturdy branches. Your heart flutters as you step onto the front porch, taking in the familiar scent of your dad's famous apple pie wafting through the screen door.

You open the door to find your dad, in the cozy kitchen, wearing his favorite flannel shirt as he carefully pulls a bubbling pie from the oven. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he rushes over to engulf you in a warm, tight hug. "You're finally home, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with genuine joy.

Joel's daughter, Sarah, stands a few feet away, her eyes lighting up with a bright smile as she watches the reunion. "Welcome back!" she exclaims, stepping forward to give you a warm hug too.

And there he is, tall and way too massive. when did he get so big? ㅡㅡ you're not complaining, though. His hair has started to gray, and his beard is gruff... your eyes sparkle as you stare up at Joel, waiting for him to say something.

"welcome home, darlin'" he breaks the silence, your heart racing as Joel's deep, rich voice washes over you. he steps forward, embracing you warmly. his arms are strong, and you can't help but take a deep breath in as you inhale his musky scent that's almost intoxicating.

As he pulls back from the hug, you meet his warm, hazel eyes, the world almost stopping. You've always been drawn to him, all though you thought it was just a stupid kid crush but now, with the years of separation and growth behind you, that attraction only seemed to intensify as you get to look at him again.

you're brought out of your trance as your dad's voice echoes through the room "c'mon, kiddo. made your favorite: cinnamon apple pie!" You can't help but giggle as you see the sheer excitement in your dad.

"dad, you didn't need to."

"course i had to, you've been away for years, and i aint lettin you off that easy, girl."

You can't help but chuckle at your dad's enthusiasm, feeling a warm sense of belonging. "Well, in that case, I'm not going to argue with your logic," you reply with a playful wink. The scent of the freshly baked cinnamon apple pie fills the air, and it's a comforting reminder of the home you've missed so much during your time away.

"good thing you're home." Joel speaks up "now he can cook for you and not stuff me full of all his kitchen...experiments." his chuckle is low, making your heart thump. you nod, slicing up the pie and placing a piece each on four different plates, adorning every slice with some fresh cream.

"Oh, I think I've missed those kitchen experiments more than anything," you quip with a sly grin, sharing a secret look with your dad.

Sarah chimes in, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "We've been Will's taste testers for years, but now you're back to rescue us, right?"

You all sit around the kitchen table, enjoying the warm pie and the laughter that fills the room. It's moments like these that make you grateful for being back home, surrounded by the people you love, even if it does come with a side of unspoken desire for the one man who has always had a special place in your heart.

does that make it sound better than saying you want your dad's best friend to fuck you? maybe.

"god, can you believe it's been four years? feels like only yesterday i was givin' you piggyback rides." Joel smiles, eyes crinkled at the corners as he takes a sip of some bear. "hey, Sarah is still little, you can give her all the piggyback rides you wanna." you laugh.

"don't give him any ideas, girl." the teen furrows her brows as she takes a large bite from her pie. "actually, me 'n joel thought it would be a good idea if we had a movie night tomorrow, for old times sake. do you remember those? god, they were fun, huh?"

"dad! you're saying it as if I'm ancient... I ain't 40." Joel turns to you, raising his brows "careful, missy. don't discriminate against 40 year olds." your cheeks light up as your eyes meet his, unable to say anything. you just swallow what you've been chewing and nod away.

Joel's laughter fills the room, and he playfully nudges your shoulder. "Alright, enough teasin'. Let's focus on planning that movie night. Remember how we used to pick out our favorite films and stack up the snacks like a mountain?"

Sarah chimes in, excitement in her eyes. "Can we make cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips?" you scrunch up your nose,"gross, sarah! you still like those? thought it was just weird kid cravings, you know?"

"you didn't even try them, stop bein' a hater!" she groans, slumped in her seat. You chuckle at Sarah's determination. "Alright, alright, I'll give your cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips a shot. After all, it's all about making this movie night special."

Joel grins and pats your back. "That's the spirit, kiddo. We're up for some culinary adventures, ain't we?" your heart jumps, and you feel like a teenager againㅡㅡ god, some things never change.

As the night falls, Sarah heads to sleep in your room, and your dad leaves you and Joel to clean up what's left in the kitchen. It didn't take long, 10 minutes at most, so you decide to sit for a bit.

The living room is bathed in a gentle, dim glow from the soft, ambient lighting. You and Joel settle onto the couch, the familiar cushions cradling you both. As you chat and reminisce, the comfortable silence that has always defined your connection fills the room.

Joel reaches for the old photo album your dad always kept on the coffee table, and you watch as he flips through its pages. The photographs tell the story of both your family's journey together – from vacations at the beach to the holidays you celebrated. Memories cascade from each page, and Joel's gaze lingers on a particularly cherished photo.

He turns to you, a wistful smile on his face. "Remember this trip, that cabin by the lake? Sarah was so little then, and she caught her first fish. You were so little..."

"yeah, I remember..."

"you're all grown up now. I honestly thought you'd forget about your dad and I." Joel chuckles, wrapping his bicep around you, pulling you in closer. "Don't be ridiculous. never in a million years." you reply.

then there's silence. your gaze locks on his, and you can hear your heartbeat in your headㅡㅡ his eyes never leave yours. Joel's calloused palm reaches your face, tracing small circles onto your burning cheek.

"think your dad's gonna come out soon?" he asks, licking his bottom lip as he waits for your response. while he looks at you, words get stuck in your throat, and you can't get them outㅡㅡ so you just shake your head 'no'.

"thought you'd grow out of this shyness, darlin'. i guess it's that effect I've on ya, huh?" smirking, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to shiver lightly.

Joel's presence, so close, and his touch have you captivated. The room feels charged with tangible tension. His teasing remark makes you smile, though you're still struggling to find words, the unspoken feelings hanging in the air.

"c'mon, sweetheart, answer me."

"j-joelㅡ" what does he want you to say? is he testing you? does he feel it, too? better yet, does he hear how fast your heart is beating whenever he leans closer to you.

"ya still hear the water runnin?" you nod. "good." he licks his lips before grabbing the back of your head, pulling you inches away from his lips. "can I?"

you muster the fastest 'yes', and when realization hits, your face grows red as an apple, causing joel to laugh. "eager girl." and with that, he leans in, placing his lips atop yours. the kiss is deep, a bit sloppy, but it feels like it's been heavy waiting to happen for so long. his beard scratches at your skin, drawing soft hums from you as it does so.

a few moments pass, and joel pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, one that he breaks when his rough thumb drags itself across your bottom lip. "pretty, pretty girl." you moan, you feel so pathetic. he's barely touched you, yet you feel the pool growing inside your panties by the second.

"p-please, joel.."

"please, what, darlin? gotta tell me exactly what ya want." he smiles, prepping soft pecks onto your face. "t-touch me..please." you gather the courage to speak up, watching his eyes grow darker as he hears your request.

"fuck, baby...what would your dad say if he heard you just then, huh?" chuckling low, his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, making you whimper. "don't c-care.."

"that so?" he tilts his head to the side, his thumb urging your mouth to open. "c'mon, girl, open." and you do as you're told, opening you mouth wide, tongue lolled out. he then gathers some spit in his mouth before letting the glistening droplet fall from his lips onto your tongue.

"swallow." he commands, and you obliged. "atta girl."

its so overwhelming, so dirty, and he didn't even do anything. at this moment, it feels as if only a slight nip at your skin could send you over the edge.

suddenly, you both hear steps upstairs, followed by a door closing. it's your dad. "you guys alright? think ive had too much to eatㅡ nothin' new there. imma head to bed, you guys cand manage yourselves, yeah?" and with that he closes the door to his room, leaving you and Joel staring at each other.

"tell me, you really wanna do this, darlin' ?"

"please, joel...need thisㅡㅡ need you."

Guilt clawed at your heart. Yet, you couldn't stop what you felt. it was wrong, but in this moment, it felt so right. "fuck, okay angel."

his large hands start to pull at your clothes, undressing you in an instant, leaving your naked body shivering. "i got you, babygirl." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your hip all the way to your mid thigh. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.

"gonna let me ruin you, sweet girl?" and it feels like your heart could run a marathon. you nod away, eagerly. you feel so pathetic, all sprawled out naked under him, whilst he's still dressed. "words, baby."

"fuckㅡ please, joel, please..." you almost cry.

he laughs, fingers reaching your folds and swirling around them "fuck, darlin', you're so wet. all this for me, hm?" he teases "yes, f-for you...please."

"shh.." hushing you, he finally pushes inside one of his fingers, making you bite back a moan. you cover your mouth with your hands, a warm sensation flooding your bodyㅡ it feels like you could come just now.

"so tight, baby. can't wait to feel you 'round my cock." you choke back a pathetic whine. "you like it? like it when i fuck you with my fingers and talk to you like this?" you nod, pushing yourself further onto his digits. "filthy girl, s'it turn you on knowing your dad could walk in in us, huh? want him to see ya full of my cock? c'mon, answer, girl."

"yesㅡ shit, yes, please, joel, please..."

"s'okay, baby, don't worry. 'll fuck you so good you'll forget your own name. make you take this cock until you can't walk no more."

your vision was hazy from all the tears in your eyes, and your heart felt stuck in your throat. you watch the man discard himself of his clothesㅡㅡ holy. fucking. shit. all of your fantasies of Joel couldn't prepare you for what was going to happen. he stood there, tall, gruff as he stroked himself. his length was girthy, almost too thick, veiny, with a red, angry tip. he knew he was huge, that's what made it so exciting to him watching you gawk at his cock.

"c'mon, doll. it won't bite...open wide now. widee ㅡ there you go..." he preaises, sliding his length between your lips. it was hard to adjust, and honestly, your jaw was hurting from the first minutes you had him in your mouth. but the way his lips dripped with quiet moans, 'goodgirls' and 'thats rights', it made you push back the pain. it was bearableㅡ you just wanted to make him proud.

"jesus christ, girl, you look so pretty, mouth full of my cock." the man laughs, pushing his length further down your warm throat that was constricting as you gagged around him. "shitㅡ gonna make me come, sweet girl." hissing, he pulls out, leaving you gasping for air.

"joel, need you inside...please.."

"you're so gorgeous like this, baby. my gorgeous girl, begging for cock." he sighs, caressing you cheek before his hand slides down to wrap around your neck, squeezing it and making you light-headed. "gonna let me fuck you stupid, darlin'? c'mon, answer."

"y-yes, Joel, want you t'fuck me s-stupid, please..."

joel scoffs, placing a little kiss on your forehead. with his other hand, he grabs his shaft and drags the tip along your folds, collecting all the juices that dripped from you. "fuckin' soaked for me, baby."

"jus' for you.."

"i know, baby. i know.."

without stalling, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"s' everything good, darlin'? want me to stop?"

"please don't...move, please, i need youㅡ please.."

"gonna give me a stroke if you keep on beggin' like that, baby..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. take it and make him proud.

"so pretty, baby. so, so pretty and tight, shitㅡ " joel moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, you could only mutter little 'joels' as he pounded into you.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Joel's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, girl. come around my cock, let me feel ya."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under joel, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paint your stomach with white, silky strands.

you both sit there in silence for a bit before you finally decide to speak up. "movie night tomorrow will be...something."

"now you're talkin' , darlin'? c'mon, let's get ya cleaned up and pray no one heard us."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : yall are eating good today. here with another fic this time our fave insane dilf JOEL !!! this has 2.78k words and probably lots of grammatical errors ITS NOT PROOFREAD OK?!?!?! hope you like it guys <3 tysm and ily!!!

[sunny44]

Model

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Warning: none

Summary: Y/n is studying to be a fashion designer and for her final college project she has to design a collection of clothes, but after designing and making all the clothes she thinks it's not good enough so Charles does everything he can to make her believe that her work is wonderful.

I was very nervous.

It was my last semester at college and I was doing my final project, which I thought would be easy since I only had to create a collection of clothes but it was harder than I thought.

I'd never had a problem finding my work beautiful and good but it seemed that nothing I was doing lately was good but after a while I got to the point where if I didn't start making the clothes I wouldn't be able to deliver them on time.

Luckily I have a wonderful boyfriend who as well is letting me use his body measures and didn't mind that the living room of his apartment was completely messed up with bits of thread and fabric lying all over the floor.

When I started this project, the first thing that came to mind was a collection of women's clothes as most of my class would do since it was the safest option, but since I like to take risks I ended up opting for men's clothes.

"Love, are you all right?" he asked after seeing me almost biting my finger off.

"Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is good enough."

"Y/n, you need to believe in yourself more. Your work is incredible and I'm really looking forward to seeing it."

I looked at him almost crying with happiness at having him on my side.

"Thank you, Charlie. I just want this collection to be perfect."

"There's no such thing as perfect, Y/n." he replied in a calm tone. "It's not because your collection doesn't suit one person that someone else won't like it too, there are different perspectives."

"I know, it's just that I'm very nervous." He sits down next to me on the floor and hugs me.

"I know and it's going to be okay, now show me how it's going."

I showed him the pieces and made a point of explaining the creative process and the inspiration behind each of the outfits.

"Babe, this is wonderful." Charles finally said. "I'm impressed and honored that I am your muse ."

"Are you really? Don't lie to me."

"And when have I ever lied to you?"

"Never."

"Then trust me when I say it's wonderful."

I snuggled closer into his embrace and we sat there in the living room together while I hoped my project was as good as Charles says it is.

...

I walked into the college with the portfolio in my hand and Joris was pushing a trolley with four mannequins where the clothes were fitted.

"Oh my God." I turned desperately to him. "I forgot the photos of you wearing the clothes."

"No you didn't, they're with me." I breathed a sigh of relief and we went to the room where the presentations would take place.

"Well, the next work to be presented is Miss Y/n Y/L/N's." I got up on the small stage and positioned the mannequins.

"Good morning everyone, my name is Y/n and the inspiration behind my clothes is my boyfriend." They analyzed the clothes. "In case you didn't know, he's a driver and I used him as my inspiration because in the last two years of college he was the person who supported me the most, especially in this last project."

"I was inspired by Ferrari, which is the team he races for in F1 so I was inspired by that to create the collection." I said as the teacher leafed through the portfolio. "Well here are some pictures of the clothes on the model."

I clicked to show the pictures and sure enough they weren't the ones I was expecting, Charles was the model wearing all the clothes I had made.

"Nice model." My teacher says.

"Well, that wasn't the one I had chosen, but thank you." She smiles. "Well, these were the four final pieces I decided to make."

My colleagues stood up and walked over to the mannequins and began to analyze them.

"Well, I have to admit that in all the years I've been teaching I've never had someone who impressed me so much and who also got an A+."

"I got an A+?" She agreed and I heard applause coming from the classroom door and Charles was standing there smiling.

"Looks like we've got a visit from your model."

"That's my boyfriend actually."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He says and my girl colleagues almost drool over him.

"No problem darling, make yourself at home." She says and continues with the introductions while I go over to him.

"You didn't tell me you were going to model the clothes, I thought Joris was going to do that."

"I asked him not to tell you because I wanted to surprise you and also show you that I believe in you and that I will always support you the same way you support me." I smiled and kissed him.

"Let's watch the other works and then we can go out for lunch."

"Great." We sat and watched the rest of the presentations and I could finally breathe a sigh of relief after knowing that I had made it.

Bonus scene!

Charlesleclerc instagram post

Liked by @pierregasly, @yourusername, @pescaleleclerc and others 6273027

Charlesleclerc this is a few photos of the clothing collection that my girlfriend made for her final project in college. She is the most talented person I know and I’m so proud of her.

I love you babe and I can’t wait for you to dress me up again.

Tagged: Yourusername

Yourusername I love you so much baby and thank you for being the best boyfriend ever

Pierregasly wow, she make you look good

Charlesleclerc I always look good

Yourusername true

Scuderiaferrari I think we all agree that y/n needs to make the next year overall

Yourusername yesss please, let me do it

User08 I love them so much

User29 I need to know where I can buy her clothes

Yourusername instagram stories

This is my beautiful and hot boyfriend using the clothes that I’ve made inspired by him and his amazing team.

I just wanted to thank him for supporting and believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

I love you so much Charlie ❤️

[sixleggedboar]

Hello everyone, since it's been very quiet on here I wanted to share an update for those who are wondering and the friends and mutuals I've been severly neglecting.

You'll find me oversharing under the cut but tldr, I am still in the middle of recovering from burnout, but it forced me to completely restructure my life to the degree that I am emotionally more stable and therefore feeling better than ever. So for anyone worrying, don't. I still have a long way to go, but I have the privilege of a good and reliable support net that caught me and offers me the resources I need to be able to build the life I need. I want to come back here, share more art in the future, but I will not force it.

And right now it's just not the time.

Thank you to everyone who's still here, thank you for your support!

CW: mental health, depression, suicidal ideation, internalised ableism

I had been suicidal my whole life. Had never known a time where I wasn't. Couldn't understand how people wanted to live, how this wasn't normal. I couldn't see myself in the future no matter how hard I tried. But I kept going because this was my normal, I didn't know anything else, didn't know I needed help and a change that was a lot more fundamental than just talking to a person every week. I had no frame of reference to communicate my struggle that came with every day life because for all I knew this is just how everyone else feels.

This is just life.

And I am just not made for it.

Didn't help that whenever I tried to communicate that to a mental health professional I just got brushed off as dramatic, being told I am fine.

Because in the end it just works. I function.

I was one of the lucky ones who got diagnosed with ADHD as a kid, mum went to a specialist cause she has it herself and wanted to make sure I get tested so I don't have to go through the same struggles that come with staying undiagnosed as she did. Thing is, that diagnosis didn't really change much, I was still too academically gifted and non-obtrusive to be considered for medical treatment (and honestly seeing and hearing about stories were kids have been on the wrong dosage for years because no one knew better makes me think that maybe it was for the better) and my mum tried to teach me the skills to succeed in life despite that diagnosis, but she herself was alone and too deep in her own trauma to be able to provide the support I needed.

This lead to me cracking and dropping out of high school, trying other things, landing back in school, this time college, and cracking again, this time not managing to immediately get up again to keep going with something else.

Nothing seemed to work, so all I could do was to take a break.

A break that showed me for the first time, that no, chronically wanting to die is not normal, that I am capable of enjoying life, that I am capable of wanting to live and my first goal should be to figure out what I can do to crawl my way back into everyday life without losing that feeling, that knowledge. I learned the difference between just a really bad, but perfectly healthy, day and the excrutiating pain day to day living had caused me until that point.

And that break's been going on for over a year now, with me periodically trying to get back into school, trying to figure out what accommodations I need and how I can build a future for myself that is worth living.

I don't know if I'll finish my bachelor's, probably not, but if I drop out I'll need to find a viable alternative first. I don't think I'll ever be able to work full time, doubt I'll ever be able to fully support myself, but I know there is a future out there for me somewhere, one that is worth living to me and that is a hope I never had until recently. That is what I mean when I say I am doing better than ever, despite the fact that my functionality has effectively crumbled to dust and diagnostics say I am still depressed.

I am still struggling with the guilt that comes with relying on others for support, that comes with not being the perfect productive member of society I am expected to be, that comes with not being the perfect friend I want to be. I learned that I actually do want to work, something that if you had asked me a year ago, and if I felt save enough to be honest, I would have said no to. I just need to figure out what that looks like. I learned I can only focus on a handful of things, and that includes basic survival and individual people. I learned what I need to not feel lonely without being overwhelmed by social interactions and have incredible people in my life who make that possible.

I also met my amazing partner who is showing me how stable and unwavering love can be. Who gives me the security I need to say that whatever comes, we'll figure it out.

Oh and yeah, starting medical transition sure as hell helped a lot too.

I am currently trying to find my passions again, learn how to actually love creating art again, to learn how to learn and find enjoyment in just the act of it.

I'm in therapy and am trying out medications in the hopes to find some that work and don't make things worse.

All in all I'm going somewhere. I don't know where it will lead but I know that it will be worth it.

[hispieceofcake]

Stanford didn't love Stanley as much Stanley he loved him

I've been thinking about this for a while and analyzing it while I endured the two seasons of Gravity Falls and I came to this conclusion. That Ford didn't love Stan as much as Stan loved him, like, Ford would sacrifice Stan for the world but Stan would sacrifice the world for Ford. And how do I prove this argument? It's simple.

Stanley protected Stanford from childhood of the bullies, has always been by his side through the best and worst moments, like when a girl threw juice at him during the dance and then Stanley threw juice at himself too so Ford wouldn't feel bad or humiliated, felt extremely bad when he heard that Ford was leaving and going to college and leaving alone. Then he was kicked out of the house due to the accident at Ford's project, who even after seeing his brother's situation also abandoned him.

I'm not saying Ford didn't have the right to be upset with Stan, but damn, seeing your twin brother who always protected you and stood by your side the whole time get kicked out of the house so badly and doing nothing sounds very selfish to me.

And then years in the future, while Stan was committing his spree of deception and fraud on the law, Ford was making one of the biggest mistakes of his life, which was to trust Bill Cipher and let him have control of his mind and body. Which, as we know, ended very badly, to the point where he had to call Stanley to help him.

And then Stan hoped that he could again seeing his twin brother and being able to have him by his side again ended up having all his expectations shattered when he saw that his brother just wanted him to go as far away as possible with one of his diaries. Triggering a fight in which Stan ended up injured with a strangely shaped burn mark on his shoulder, and pushing his brother into the portal and then running towards him begging for him to come back.

And then for thirty years he devoted himself to bringing Stanford back, he committed robberies (not that he didn't do them before), he broke the law (again not that he didn't do them before), deceived the people he loved most (Dipper and Mabel), stopped taking care of himself, and dedicated years and years just for his brother. Then when he succeeds in bringing Ford back, he is met with a punch in the face and no thanks.

I understand that Ford was worried that the world could be destroyed and all, but man, was it so hard to apologize for the punch and thank his brother afterwards?

And even so, Ford only thanked Stan because he was forced to and even then it was sarcasm, and then Stan sacrificed himself for him and for everyone in Gravity Falls by switching places with Ford and have his mind invaded by Bill Cipher to defeat him soon after.

And again coming back to that phrase but a little different, "Ford would sacrifice Stan for the world but Stan would sacrifice himself for Ford."

Now one thing that made me a little indignant with Ford when I read Bill's book, on the page where Ford said about his birthday, he didn't talk about Stan at all, he didn't remember his own twin brother who had a birthday that same day, the person who cared most about him in the world was forgotten by him and only called when Ford was out of options and needed someone trustworthy to disappear along with his diary.

I've seen several pieces of art and text that say that Ford is the brain and Stan is the heart, and I honestly agree, Ford is intelligent, planning and accurate while Stan is emotional, careless and affectionate (in his own grumpy way but he is), it even reminds me of a song called "Choice" by an artist called Jack Stauber. (just a silly curiosity)

But getting back to the subject, I know Ford had his reasons, and I know he loves Stanley and values him very much and cares and loves his family, but I wanted to highlight a little how much Stan tried for him, and in fact, it was a lot. Both Stan twins have been through some tough times leading to trauma for both of them and I was extremely happy when I watched the last episode and saw that now both of them are together fulfilling their long-awaited dream together and making up for lost time from years and years without each other.

Please don't take this post as an attack on the character, Stanford is my favorite character along with Stan, I love them both, but loving a character means knowing his good and bad points. If you have a different thought please share it, but without being offensive.

Oh yeah, forgive me for being absent, I've been a bit out of sorts, but every now and then I'll show up to bring you something.

Well, thanks for reading, bunny kisses 🐰💋

[thunderfrommyheart]

breaking down the misinformation in @afronerdism post about me.

Debunked by Stuart Semple himself. 

I’ve taken the time to do this because nobody wants mis-information bouncing around the internet. 

The key thing to know - in the artworld rich people have access to processes and companies that most artists don’t. That’s how they get to create giant beans which cost $20million. At the top the rich get richer, and at the bottom artists struggle to make their mark with what they’ve got. 

Vantablack is an example of a group of rich, entitled people getting together to pat themselves on the back, whilst the rest of the world watched horrified at the tone-deafness of the whole thing.

it's also worth noting whilst OP is clearly educated and understands politics they are not in any way an expert in the artworld, art discourse. I however have been in the artworld for 25 years, have written for the guardian, art of england and vogue. I have presented art programs for the BBC and have a properly published book on art history - it's out in June called 'Make Art or Die Trying'. I have studied art and art history and spoken at Oxford University, The ICA, Denver Art Msueum, Dublin Art Museum and at Frieze. I have lectured at the Royal College of Art in London. I have curated over 20 contemporary art exhibitions internationally, I have directed two galleries. I am by definition an expert.

MY BREAKDOWN: OP is @afronerdism - I've gone below them point by point

A: What Vantablack is not: a pigment. A paint. Vantablack is not something that you were supposed to use to paint with. 

SS: CORRECT - However nor is glass, chrome, powder coating, sandblasting, booze casting, tar, concrete or steel yet they are used by artists everyday. 

Whether the material/process is a paint or pigment or not doesn’t matter. 

A: Who creates and distributes Vantablack: an engineering company named Surrey NanoSystems.

SS: True. And many artists work with engineering companies every day, notable examples are Jeff Koons and Damien Hirst. Lots of artists collaborate with industry to get their work made, that is what fabrication is.  You go to Surrey NanoSystems - not to buy paint but for them to coat your work in Vantablack. 

A: Who does not do those things: an art house. A distribution company. Any kind of company that creates and distributes pigments on a massive, artistic scale. 

SS: Which is totally true and fine. However they do coat things in Vantablack for a series of clients in many different industries including fashion designers, jewelers, brands, car companies, and watch companies. They will coat anything for anyone who has the money unless they are an artist. They only accept work from Anish Kapoor as he has an exclusive license with them for art. 

A: Who was Vantablack made for: Vanta Black was made by aerospace engineers for aerospace engineers, looking for something to coat the insides of massive NASA telescopes. 

SS: Initially, but quickly was used by a lot of other industries including architects, fashion designers, bands, brands, car companies and even a deodorant. 

They are able to make it in quantities large enough to coat whole buildings as we saw when architect Asif Khan used it to coat a whole pavilion during the Pyeongchang Winter Olympic Games. 

(If had told Surrey nanoSytems he was an artist - not an architect, this would never have happened)

A: Who it was not made for: artists.

SS: Except the one with the license. (Anish Kapoor)

———————————-——————————————

A: Hopefully already just by understanding what Vantablack is, what it was made for, and who it’s made by you and other people are beginning to see what the problem is with Stuart simples narrative around Vanta black. 

SS: It’s Semple not simple. 

SS: The narrative was not created by Semple as for a few months before he shared his pink the world media was criticizing Kapoor for his Monopoly with major articles in the Guardian, Daily Mail, and BBC news. Each featured reactions from a broad spectrum of artists who spoke about the unnecessary license and the elitism in the artworld. 

A:  But you may be wondering if Vanta black is a highly toxic unstable substance made out of carbon nano tubes by aerospace engineers for aerospace engineers, working in space, then how did we get here? well, Vanta, black 2.0, if you will was created in such a way that it could be sprayed onto substances in a certain way meaning that theoretically it could be used artistically.

SS: Yes VBX2 can be sprayed, and Surrey Nanosystems have training days where they teach in-house teams how to do that. The VBX2, however, arrived quite late in the story and Kapoor’s rights started with the first version. 

A: Surround nanosystems held an exhibition where they displayed Vanta black and when artist saw this, they were inundated with calls from artist, wanting to use it in their work. 

SS:

Surrey nano systems (not surround)

They actually debut it at an airshow in England, it was all over the world media, many artists saw it. They then went on a massive PR mission and the material was seen on CNN etc. 

Kapoor became aware of it and approached them to see if he could use it in his work. 

Together they struck up an exclusive deal which would mean if any artist asked them to coat a piece of work with the stuff they would be turned away. 

That deal was something Surrey and Kapoor were initially proud of. They couldn’t see the inherent elitism in the exclusivity so they went on another PR pr to tell he world Kapoor was signed up to use it. 

It was then the artists of the world really became aware of it, and sure enough, when any of them wrote to Surrey - even really huge ones with plenty of money, they were turned away. These artists including Christian Furr and Ron Arad, amongst others were all featured across the media. =

A: But as we’ve already established surrey nanosystems is not a distribution company. They’re an engineering company. And they made the decision that they could only work with one artist, because they simply did not have the physical ability to produce Vantablack at a scale that allowed them to work with more than one person. 

SS: They did say that, but a lot later. They were always a fabrication / engineering place and there was never an idea that they would distribute the material. That’s not the problem any artists ever had with it, they all fully understood what the material was. The issue was that even if the artist had the money and could ship their work to Surrey, they would not coat the object with it, but they would serve other industries. This is seen as deeply prejudicial towards artists. 

A: (To this day, vanta Black has to be distributed by a specialized robotic arm that creates it in painfully small amounts in an enclosed box that can then be given to someone in a lab. ) 

SS: This is untrue - the arm is used to spray the objects that Surrey have agreed to coat. 

It does not make the material. The material is made by growing carbon nano tubes on a surface. 

And the spray version contains nano particles. The robot arm is used for precision when coating. 

You often see a robot arm spray cars for example. The arm is used like this. 

A: Enter Anish Kapoor: Anish Kapoor, at this time was already a world, renowned artist, and the creator of many public facing pieces, such as cloud gate, a.k.a. the Chicago Bean. His entire life‘s work was dedicated to how light is refracted and interplays with the void, making him not only the perfect person to be chosen because of prestige but also because his life‘s work spoke to the engineers who created Vanta black.

SS: Whist as an artist he has dealt with reflection and the void at length, it’s a stretch to claim his entire life’s work is dedicated to it. 

SS: It is true that as a figurehead for Vantablack he is a good choice, he’s very rich, extremely famous, he’s a Sir (i.e knighted by the queen and a turner prize winner). Plus he makes work that would look good in Vantablack. 

SS: None of this means that he needed exclusivity to do it, the company could simply have collaborated with him and if any other artist asked to have something coated, they could have easily said they were too busy or didn’t have enough of the material. 

SS: The issue is the way they couldn’t see the prejudice, elitism and lack of access in the exclusivity. 

A: Now this should’ve been seen as an incredible accomplishment and honor for this Indian artist to be chosen as the soul licensor of Vantablack as this company was only able to choose one person and people were really excited about this for him and that’s where the story ends, right? Right? Right? 

SS: It’s unclear why his race matters. He is one of the richest, most well known, most famous artists in the world. The fact he has exclusive access to a material/process like this is not a reason for people to be excited for him, people are free to be excited or not. This is purely your opinion not a fact. 

A: Enter Stuart Semple: Stuart simple was a 25-year-old man in the UK living with his mother when she came into his room and told him about Vantablack. 

SS: Stuart was born in 1980, which would make him 36 at the time. 

SS: He was not living with his mother, in fact he was living in London with his own family. 

SS: His mother did not come into his room however on a phone call she spoke to him about an article she had read in the guardian about how artists were upset by Kapoor having Vantablack. 

SS: Stuart was (and is) a well-known contemporary artist, very embedded int hat world. He has had over 20 solo exhibitions dedicated to his work all over the world and his pieces are in major collections and museums. He’s not in the league of Kapoor but in the artworld is well known as an artist. 

A: As an artist himself, Stewart simple wanted to try Vanta Black, and was told by the company that he could not.

SS: This is untrue - Stuart did not want to use the colour, nor did he approach the company. 

A:  It was then that he discovered the only person on earth licensed to use Vantablack was Anish Kapoor. 

SS: This is untrue, he was aware of this when his mother told him what she had read in the newspaper. 

A: Please keep in mind that Vantablack is not a paint, and it is so difficult to work with that Anish Kapoor has only ever produced one singular piece of art with Vantablack. 

SS: This is untrue. Tens of thousands of items have now been coated in VantaBlack, from soda cans to watches. Initially, Kapoor used his rights to create a series of limited edition wrist watches that sold for $100,000 each, and then went on to create a whole series of large sculptures that were initially shown at a huge palazzo in Venice that Kapoor bought, during the Venice Biennale, and then at an exhibition at the Lisson in NYC where there works were for sale with an average price of $500,000USD.

A: So like a child who has just been told by their mom that they can’t use something, Stewart simple decided to throw a hissy fit. 

SS: It’s Stuart Semple (not stewart simple) - and there is no evidence of any kind of Hissy Fit. However he did create a piece of internet performance art, where he put a jar of pinkest pink paint on the internet, humorously, and asked anyone who bought the paint to sign an agreement that they ‘weren’t Anish Kapoor and Associate of Kapoor and that to the best of their knowledge information and belief, the material would not make its way into the hands of Anish Kapoor’. Semple has always explained it was a tongue-in-cheek piece of performance art, and that he was never expecting anyone would actually buy any pink. The best source for this is an article in Wired in which the journalist concludes with the piece being a powerful piece of online performance art. Bearing in mind Semple is an artist who works with performance, that is extremely likely. 

A: He created a pink pigment that he conditionally said everyone could use except Anish Kapoor and then launch this pigment with the hashtag #ShareTheBlack. 

SS: He created the pink pigment in 2010 - and has made his own paints to use in his own work since he was a child. It was not made in response to Kapoor. However he did not make them public they were for his own use, and the Kapoor situation made him question his own exclusivity in keeping the materials he was making for himself. He decided to share his pink as a gesture and a piece of art in it's own right.

A: This caught the attention of the news media, and when asked about this situation, that was previously relatively unheard of, Stuart simple,

SS: Neither Stuart nor the Vantablack situation were unheard of. The media was already reporting on the controversy around vantablack long before Stuart put the pink up. Stuart was also well known which is why the media wanted to talk to him about it. 

When GQ came to do a 5 page feature on him they were clear it was because he was an established and well-known artist in his own right. 

He had already been hosting art shows for the BBC, had written for the guardian and Huffington post and had collaborated with major musicians. 

A: went onto describe Anish Kapoor as this tyrannical elitist who “banned“ the use of Vantablack to keep other artists from using it. 

SS: There’s no evidence that Semple said that, however, he was critical of the exclusive license and did feel the story opened up a well-needed discussion about access to art and the trend in which those with the money could afford to have works fabricated when others couldn’t. He is at heart an egalitarian and has made free art studios, his Designs for humanity charity, his creative therapies fund at Mind (a mental health charity) etc.. and a major free art gallery in his hometown that shows some of the biggest living artists. So Semple’s opinion is allowed, to him Kapoor epitomizes an elitism that is dominated by the super-rich, after all, Kapoor is getting close to being a billionaire. 

A: But hopefully you can already see how that is Literally not true. Anish Kapoor does not make Vanta black. Anish Kapoor cannot sell Vanta black. Anish Kapoor cannot give you permission to use Vanta black. And Vanta black is not even a paint. 

SS: He does not make it, but he does hold the exclusive right to use it in art. 

SS: No other material or process has been exclusively licensed by one artist in the history of the world. 

SS: Jeff Koons does not make his own giant steel sculptures, a factory does. Jeff can’t book your work into the factory, and steel is not a paint either. He doesn't have an exclusive agreement with the steel fabricators. If they aren't too busy with Jeff, and you've got the cash, they'll make something for you too. This is standard with art fabrication.

SS: I didn't physically make the giant steel and foam smiley sculpture of mine for the city of Denver, fabricators helped with that, and engineers. They work with several artists.

SS: This makes no sense given it is understood vantablack is a material and a process of application. 

SS: However Kapoor could surrender his exclusive right and Surrey would then be able to take bookings from artists. 

A: meanwhile Stuart has launched an entire very lucrative career around slandering and smearing Anish Kapoor 

SS: Untrue, Semple had a very successful career and his day job is as a contemporary artist. Actually speaking up about elitism in the artworld is a risky move for someone who relies on that artworld to pay his bills. 

A: when Anish Kapoor literally never did anything but be qualified enough to be the one person chosen by a company that is literally only able to work with one person at a time. 

SS: He did do something, he signed an exclusive agreement and he felt he was entirely justified in doing so. He also went out in the media and with surrey nono systems and gloated about it.

SS: They can’t only work with one person at a time, we have seen whole buildings covered in vantback, jewellery, cars and soda cans and many sculptures by Kapoor. Surrey have collaborated with thousands of brands, designers, architects and companies. 

A: The fact remains Stewart simple, very intentionally allows this narrative to continue because it makes him money. 

SS: It is unclear how it makes him money as the pink was sold for $3 which was what it cost to make, and his website which researches and distributes cutting edge materials is a non profit that collaborates with artists. They even did a crowd funder to make Black 3.0 - a super black acrylic that any artist can use. It's also unclear how he is perpetuating this narrative, when he's clearly moved on to other projects many years ago and rarely mentions it. In Semple's world it's a very small thing.

A: He has made a ton of money off of slandering Anish Kapoor as if Anish Kapoor is the reason he can’t use Vanta black when the reason he can’t use Vanta black is because no one can use Vanta black, and the only person who might be able to use it is Anish Kapoor and that is not Anish Kapoor‘s fault. 

SS: There’s no evidence at all that he’s slandered Kapoor. Kapoor being extremely wealthy, and the level of media that covered the story back in 2016 would never have allowed it. It would have been a legal nightmare. All the publications who write about the story GQ, BBC, The Guardian, Wired, have journalistic laws and it would not have happened. 

SS: There’s no evidence that Semple has made a ton of money. 

A: It is not lost on me that there are racial connotations to the story as well. There are actual companies and artists in the world who have trademarks around certain colors that they do not allow other people to use in public showcases. 

SS: There are colour marks or if you like 'trademarked colours'. The public showcases point doesn't make sense in this context - colours are protected in classes i.e certain uses on Serbian products are prohibited. EG - Tiffany blue cannot be used on jewellery boxes. 

A: But we really as a community allowed this white man to smear and slander an Indian artist,

SS: Again it’s unclear what the ethnicity of the artists has to do with the core issue. 

SS: It’s a little bit of a leap given Semple has also liberated Klein Blue (made by a white French man), Barbie Pink (owned by Mattel a corporation), and created the Brightest White. 

 A: based entirely off of misinformation, and to this day people jump on the Internet, saying fuck Anish Kapoor because of it. 

SS: Kapoor secured the rights to the blackest material ever made. Everyone else who can afford to, can use it, unless they identify as an artist. 

SS: Many people feel like that is wrong. 

A: Now, Anish Kapoor is not some struggling person. He is probably a multibajillionaire 

SS: He’s worth about 800 million according to Forbes, he’s within the top 5 most wealthy living artists.

A: And doesn’t necessarily need our sympathy. But I think the story of Vantablack is a really good case study of how misinformation spreads, and how people never bother to question the framework of a story. 

SS: In my opinion, your post is misinformation, that has been spread unquestioningly. 

[creedslove]

RE-ENCOUNTER 🎨

Marcus Pike x f!reader

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

Summary: you and Marcus had a brief but loving marriage, until it wasn't anymore. Choosing an amicable divorce you both moved on with your lives until destiny made you run into each other once more, with a difference this time: your ex-husband was engaged now

Warnings: mentions of divorce, a little bit of angst, fluff, some jealousy, age gap (their ages are not specified but he's 10 years older than her)

A/N: besties, I'm so happy I finally managed to write something for our husband Pike. I've always wanted to do so, but I knew I couldn't just force myself into it otherwise it wouldn't work properly, and just like that, this idea came up and I couldn't get it out of my mind ❤️ also, I know some people don't like age gap, but I can't imagine reader being Marcus age mostly because reader is me 🥴 and also because it would make sense to the story, so although it's not specified, I pictured them getting married around early 20s(reader) early 30s (Pike) and running into each other again around late 20s/early 30s (reader) and late 30s/early 40s (Pike)

3.9k words

You weren't fond of getting married young, to you, it sounded nothing like madness, as you simply couldn't wrap your head around the fact that people often abdicated from their lives, plans and dreams to get stuck in a relationship. It made no sense to you, especially since you had been working your ass off during all your years in college, the prospect of having a successful and promising career motivated you to go after your dreams. Relationships, marriages, building up families hadn't crossed your mind at all, a little affair with a cute guy here and there were the only things that ever got remotely close to dating, at the same time you only saw yourself as someone who wouldn't settle down.

And that was before Marcus Pike walked into your life.

If someone asked you to explain what exactly happened, perhaps you wouldn't be able to understand it yourself let alone explain it to someone, but that man swept you off your feet. You'd met him during a history of art lecture at campus one Thursday evening. He had just joined the FBI in the art department, fresh in his new job but still assisting his former professor and mentor in college lectures. He was probably ten or so years older than you, and yet, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. He was by far the most handsome man you'd seen in those four long years you'd spent in that institution, there was something so captivating in his beautiful eyes, his breathtaking smile and how smart and sweet he was towards anyone. And he caught you staring; it seemed you took his attention as much as he took yours, and even if you needed that lecture for extra credit, you couldn't give a single crap about medieval art, because that man was everything you could see in front of you. That was so unlike your personality, usually, you'd be focused on everything else, but you simply couldn't look away from that handsome assistant.

When the lecture was finally over, you were sure you'd missed at least half of it, being too busy concentrating on someone else instead of the subject, you still had a few doubts about the matter and you walked to the stage, willing to ask the professor some questions and clarify any doubts you had, and that was the moment you both locked eyes for the first time. The handsome guy that caught your attention, whose name was Marcus, soon found out the moment you shook hands and realized how big his was compared to yours and how truly handsome he was, even more so than you had already noticed when you were a few meters away. He was also mesmerized by you and he couldn't hide it, he knew you were younger than him, but at that moment all he could process was how gorgeous and smart that girl was in front of him. He kept around while you talked to his mentor, being polite enough not to interrupt him but holding himself back so he wouldn't add his own comments. He just wanted an excuse to talk to you, see if he could approach and see where things could go, so the moment he had the opportunity to be with you alone for a while, he immediately threw his charms - and Marcus was a charming guy - in your first conversation you liked how intelligent and nice he was, he made you laugh and when he invited you to have pancakes some dinner nearby the campus, you couldn't say no.

And that was the beginning of your love story.

Everything you believed went through the roof from the moment you met Marcus. He was incredible, the most fascinating man you'd met and whereas he was older than you, that only seemed to spice things up both in the sexual and emotional sense. You had never been treated like that before, he made you feel like a queen, as cheesy as it may sound, that's just how you felt through your relationship with Marcus. He was a gentleman, sweet and he didn't know what to do in order to please you; he went slowly at first, even if his intentions were clear from the very first time you went out to eat, he was a little afraid you would be weirded out by him, and he couldn't be further from the truth. Each time he took you out on a date, it felt like you were living the plot of any sweet but cliche rom com movie. It felt just too good to be true and a part of you feared that it wouldn't work. But it did, for as long as it lasted.

The dates with Marcus were so special, he was thoughtful and he always made sure to take you somewhere nice; it was either a nice restaurant so you could get to know their different menu, or art galleries in which he would show you his favorite works and tell you as much as you wanted to hear about them. He was always afraid of boring you with his subjects but on the contrary, you always enjoyed listening to him talk, it was entertaining, soothing and you could spend hours watching how his eyes sparkled whenever he addressed anything he truly enjoyed. And even if he put some effort into them, your favorite date by far was whenever you two would spend some time just hanging out together in his apartment. Dim lights, old movies on TV and Marcus' protective grip around your body, always pulling you closer and making sure you were warm in his embrace for the rest of the night.

The first kiss you shared with him after you both went to the movies together. It was a classic movie rerun and even if Casablanca wasn't your favorite, you knew he enjoyed it, and seeing it on a big screen was definitely a nice experience. Besides, he promised you that once Titanic hit the theaters in the next classic session, he would definitely take you.

At the end of the movie, you walked out the theater holding hands, you were silent, but instead of reflecting over the story you'd just watched you reflected over your relationship with Marcus; you were falling deeper and deeper for him, deeper and more intensely than you ever thought you would, and when he stopped and placed your hands on your hips you couldn't resist being kissed by him.

It felt right.

The first night you both spent together was right after he took you to see the concert of his former band; he'd left the band when he graduated from college, but he still remained friends with the guys and eventually enjoyed visiting them on stage. And that night he insisted on taking his bass for a last ride and even risked a song on the microphone, all of that for you.

By then, there was no fighting or convincing otherwise, you were head over heels for Marcus; especially when you two had sex for the first time after that. One could think Marcus is too soft, but not when it comes to that; he knows how to act, how to please and how to demand what he wants and after you tried him, a real man, there was no way you could go back to college boys ever again.

Your relationship evolved fast and in less than a year he proposed to you; he was sure you were what he wanted in the future, just as you had thrown away all your beliefs and you'd surrounded yourself completely to the man you loved, so you said yes. Even if your whole life you said you wouldn't get married, not while young at least, not without having a consistent, successful career.

And there you were, fresh out of college, with very little work experience, a job in an area you didn't want but had to take in order to gather experience and knowledge and walking down the aisle in a white dress, feeling as happy as you could be, in order to become Mrs.Pike. The honeymoon had to be in Paris, a few people told you that couldn't be more cliche, and even if they meant it out of spite or if they were actually right, it didn't really matter to you; it felt so right for the two of you. Surrounded by art constantly during the day and making love at night, it was like a dream coming true, and you remember hoping your entire marriage would be like that: light, fun, full of love and happiness. And it was until it wasn't anymore.

You couldn't tell exactly when things started to go downhill, but if you had to guess, it would probably be due to the lack of time you both faced towards the end of your relationship. It just started getting harder after about a year, when the two of you really began struggling for your own careers. You, in your area, and Marcus with the FBI, it seemed to have become an obsession for you both, as date nights, walks in the park and gallery visitations simply stopped happening in order to focus on your extra tasks, overtime, solving cases. At some point it became a looping of excuses and promises to spend more time together:

"We'll go next weekend honey"

"We can have dinner together tomorrow"

"I promise I'll take you with me next time"

Needless to say, they never truly happened.

Just as you two distanced yourselves without even realizing, the bickering also started, adding another venomous sting to your relationship. Suddenly, small things turned into bigger ones, sources of stress and fights; if someone ever told you one day you'd have heated arguments with Marcus over a dropped sock, or an unwashed plate on the sink, you would call them crazy, but when that unfortunately happened to the two of you, you were shocked for a while, not believing you had become the kind of couple to argue over stupid things like those. It was heartbreaking. As you two barely had time for each other, sex was also off the table most nights, being too tired to do anything else other than sleep, Marcus suddenly came up with the idea of having a baby; he had a deep hope of fixing your marriage by getting you pregnant, after all, having kids had always been part of his plan and he was sure it was part of yours too.

At the same time you hadn't really thought it through. Technically, you had. You wanted kids. At some point, in the future, it wasn't rocket science to figure that adding a baby to a troubled marriage could not be the best idea. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that, not when you saw the spike of excitement in his eyes, not when he held you and kissed you like in the beginning of your relationship, how he made time for you even if his FBI work was killing him, he still managed to bring you flowers, kiss you and made love to you. Perhaps he was trying to save your marriage, or he was just trying for the baby, you weren't so sure, but you could see the effort. And it was why it broke your heart to know you couldn't get pregnant at that moment, not with your job finally taking you places, the new opportunity of actually building a career and how young you still thought you were, being married was hard, but it was about you and Marcus, two adults who could handle yourselves but a baby? It was way too much responsibility. You couldn't find a way to tell him that, even if you were being a coward, it pained you you felt so hopeless to simply lie to Marcus and tell him you'd stopped taking your birth control pills, and even more so each time he looked at you with those disappointed, sad eyes, month after month of excitement and longing for that baby to be there, just to get a negative test after another. It was eating you up alive and after his insistence on taking you to a doctor - which you immediately refused - he managed to find your hidden stash of pills among your stuff. You tried explaining everything to him; how you weren't ready, you were scared and how broken you'd been at seeing him so upset. You cried, you opened your heart to Marcus and told him you wanted to be a mom to his child, some day, not at that moment, but in the future because things were finally working for the two of you once more. But you had lied to your husband, and lying to Marcus had no turning back.

He had no other option other than asking for a divorce after you lied and broke his heart, he felt upset, he could've forgiven you for many things, but not for playing with his heart when it came to the kids he dreamed of every single day.

You were tired, upset and at some point during your divorce process you'd convinced yourself you didn't love him anymore, but the reality was that you were just so empty you weren't able to feel things, you were numb.

The day you both signed the divorce papers in front of your lawyer and you were questioned whether you two wanted to go ahead with that decision, your heart shattered into a million pieces, more than any fights, when you heard Marcus' justification to why he was asking for the divorce.

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

When you heard those words, you had a sudden urge to get up and tear those papers into pieces, tell him you were both making a huge mistake, that toyover him and that you could make it work, you wanted to tell him you still had a beautiful future ahead of you, you and the gorgeous family you would have together. And the moment you took a deep breath to finally say all that out loud, you looked at Marcus signing the papers and officializing the divorce.

That was the last time you saw your ex-husband Marcus Pike, you just had no idea the next time you would run into him again would be in a few years later, while he was taking his new fiancee on a date.

•••

Marcus sighed as he could see the lack of excitement in Teresa's face the moment they got to the exhibit, he just didn't know why she agreed to go out with him if she didn't like it, it would be so much easier for the two of them if she was honest and told him she'd rather stay home and read a magazine, that way they would both be happy, and Marcus wouldn't have the feeling he was trying too hard all the time. Teresa liked him, she must have liked him, otherwise she wouldn't have accepted his proposal and moved to DC with him. It was still early, she'd been there for a few weeks but he was confident things would work. He was hitting his forties now, one divorce, no kids and even if he finally got the position he had not only dreamed of but also worked so hard for in his dream job, he still felt something was missing. It took him a failed marriage to realize that money wasn't everything he needed, he simply missed the family he never had.

When he found Teresa he was still trying to pick the pieces of his heart, still trying to make things work on his own and when he saw her - an attractive, mature and intelligent woman, he thought that maybe he wouldn't be alone this time. You'd been the love of his life, he was convinced of that, but you two had gone way too fast and too intense, you were still young, you had so much to live so it made sense to him he would let you go and be free. He vowed himself not to rush into things, but this time it wasn't his choice, he was liking Teresa more and more and even if they weren't compatible most of the time, but when the opportunity of a lifetime came up he had to take his chances and she'd said yes. Still a little unsure and divided between him and Jane, but she said yes.

As they walked through the exhibit, he paid close attention to all the beautiful paintings scattered around the long hallways. He loved that atmosphere, the pictures so beautifully made by talented hands years or sometimes centuries ago.

"So it's just flowers?!" Teresa broke the silence as she looked around unimpressed and dragged his attention back to reality

"It's not just flowers, it's Monet… don't you like it? You told me you liked his paintings on our first date.." Marcus stated confused until the realization that she was just lying so she wouldn't appear ignorant or perhaps try to impress him a little. He saw how she cleared her throat and tried fixing what she just said but he stopped listening the moment he caught a glimpse of someone else crossing the same room and standing next to Rouen Cathedral, admiring it intently. He didn't even need to look twice to know it was you. You, who always loved that painting, even if it wasn't Monet's best in your ex-husband's opinion, you who had a fascination with old constructions such as cathedrals and would always snap several pictures of them, you, who was never exceptional at art but managed to get by and eventually fell more and more in love with art because of Marcus, not because you wanted to impress him or have him thinking you were smart, but because he actually made you see why he had that passion for it. And the moment that you turned around, his heart skipped a beat.

You looked the same, and yet, you also managed to look even more beautiful; more mature, more confident in yourself and for a brief moment Marcus was frozen in time, it was just like the first time he saw you, in which he could only see you in front of him and nothing else. He had no idea you still had that effect on him, it was so unusual and surprising and even if he had stalked your social media profiles here and there over the course of your separation, even if he wasn't proud of it, it was completely different than seeing you right there in front of him. He wasn't sure what to do, should he approach you? Talk to you? Pretend he didn't see you?

However, he didn't time to think any further about it, not when you turned around and spotted him, your eyes widening at the moment you saw him. Much to your surprise your heart also raced at the sight of your ex-husband. Was it your mind playing tricks or was he even more handsome? You hadn't planned on approaching him, but you felt as if you were being taken involuntarily towards him.

"Marcus?! Hi!" You said with a sweet smile as he politely greeted you, expressing how surprised he was to see you and even more so to actually talk to you

"Wow, you look great… So beautiful" he smiled as you blushed softly and giggled

"You too, still very handsome… so what brings you to D-" you interrupted by a woman who walked in and wrapped her arm around his waist. She eyed you up and down, even if she still tried to be polite and discreet about it. You swallowed hard feeling awkward and Marcus turned to the other woman

"This is Teresa, my fiancee and this is my ex-wife" he cleared his throat as he said your name and Teresa simply nodded her head. You returned the gesture and the moment you meant to ask him a question she barged in

"You're his ex-wife? But you're so young…" you could see the light pink spreading through his cheek and groaned at how dumb she really was.

"Yeah, I'm younger than him… and are you a little older than Marcus?" You returned the sting with the same amount of poison and she scoffed, looking at him and groaned

"I'll go to the restroom" she said without looking into your eyes and walked away, making you chuckle as Marcus shot you a questioning look which you just shrugged and went back to the question that was lingering on your mind

"So, what are you doing here in DC? Having a romantic getaway or vacations?"

"Actually, I've moved here after I was promoted to the head of the new art department" he said with his typical smile and you could see how his eyes crinkled, your heart warming up as you expressed genuine surprise and happiness to know that. You were a witness to how hard he had worked for that and it just filled your heart with pride to know he made it. You weren't sure how to act, perhaps it wasn't right, but you had already wrapped your arms around his neck and given him probably the tightest hug you'd ever done. Even if it was brief, you couldn't help but feel how built up he was, how stronger he'd become and his characteristic scent made you so warm on the inside, it felt like you could've stayed forever in his embrace.

"I'm so happy for you, Marcus! Honestly, you deserve it! I know I haven't been the most supportive wife and I'm very sorry about everything that happened, I should've been nicer to you, but well, all I'm trying to say is that I'm so proud of you!"

You said wholeheartedly and even if there were so many other things you needed to tell him, you knew it wasn't the right time and place. He just smiled and nodded, taking your hands into his big ones and thanking you for the support.

"Do you think we could grab a coffee or something? Just catch up?"

"I'd love to, but I don't know if it's a good idea, I mean, I can tell Teresa isn't my biggest fan and being honest with you, I wouldn't like my fiance's ex-wife around very much, but it's amazing to see you Marcus, truly, it makes me glad to know you are somewhat closer" you smiled again but let go of his hands the moment Teresa returned. Once more she just lingered around him, almost territorial as if she wanted to show you who owned Marcus. He also felt that, and it made him quite uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat and looked at you, saying goodbye and explaining they had dinner reservations.

As you watched them both leave, you felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the wonderful place he was probably taking her, the elaborate dates he had planned, the beautiful family they would probably build together. It could've been you, it was you for a while, unlike he might have thought you wanted all that with him, but it took you a divorce to realize it was a situation of the right person, wrong time. Perhaps if you tried again, it would work, you would like it to work, but Marcus had moved on, found himself someone he cared about and you had no right to break his heart and ruin his happiness once more.

____

A/N: my besties, I really hope you enjoyed it! I don't know if this is just a one-shot or if there'll be a continuation but I am so happy how this turned out. I love Marcus and I'm so happy our handsome FBI boyfriend finally got his own piece here! ❤️ remember that feedback is life, I'd love to hear what you all thought of it ❤️

[keerysfreckles]

your kiss - peter parker

pairing: tom!peter x f!reader

summary: peter, your best friend, also known as spiderman swings into your bedroom after a night of patrolling and finds you asleep on your desk. he tries his best to be quiet while tidying up your room, but things change - for the better ?

warnings: PURE FLUFF!!! use of y/n and she/her pronouns

ﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟ

peter parker has always been enthralled by y/n. ever since the first day of freshman year, since the two were biology lab partners. the two were quick to have a connection, and were soon best friends by the end of the first semester.

he was enticed by her. the way her hair bounced on her shoulders as she walked from classes. or the way her eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite book. he especially loved how her smile got slightly wider once he stepped in the room.

y/n was always on his mind. whether it be a reminder for him to ask how her day was, or because he simply couldn't stop thinking about the girl.

lately y/n and peter haven't been able to talk much, due to peter being busy being the friendly neighborhood spiderman, and y/n was tackling college applications as well as essays and exams.

every friday night, peter would stop by y/n's apartment she lived in with her parents. her parents absolutely adored peter when she brought him over to study for an upcoming economy test.

this friday was no different, as peter finally swung on his last web to get to the girl's window. he caught his breath as he took his mask off, while sliding open y/n's bedroom window.

his feet hit the carpeted floor of y/n's room, and he smiles softly once he sees y/n asleep. her head was resting on her folded arms, which were covering pages of her unfinished essay. her computer was open and on the dim screen was a half finished college application. peter chuckled quietly, as he closed the window, and threw his mask at the edge of her bed.

peter made his way towards y/n's desk and turned off the lamp. he closed her laptop, and tried his best to clean up the supplies the girl wasn't laying on. peter also couldn't help but notice she was wearing his midtown sweatshirt. he must've left it over one time, and now he was glad he did. he thought she looked adorable in it.

as peter was moving the books off the desk and towards y/n's bookshelf, y/n lifted her head from her arms, and rubbed the drool that was leaving her lips. she turned in her desk chair, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"pete? what are you doing here?" her voice was quiet, and hoarse considering she just woke up.

peter walks over towards her, "just doing my weekly check in. i see you're still busy with college stuff."

y/n only nods, and peter notices her shoulders tense at the mention of it.

"how were the streets of queens tonight?" y/n asks the superhero, as he sits on her bed and she starts to clean up her desk.

"they were alright," peter shrugged, "i caught a guy stealing from the deli. so i guess that's something."

y/n nodded intently, as he continued to tell her about his night. peter couldn't help but let his eyes trail over y/n's figure as she sat on top of her desk across from her bed.

y/n couldn't help but let her eyes go back and forth between his face and his body in his spider suit.

as y/n was not-so-discretly looking over peter's body, peter smirked. "why are you staring at me like that y/n?" he let out a breathy laugh, mostly out of nerves.

y/n's face instantly changed into a shade of red. "i wasn't staring," she lies.

out of no where, peter suddenly gains confidence. he isn't sure where it comes from, but before he knows how to stop, he's walking towards y/n. he simply stood in front of the girl, his hands were placed on both of her bare knees.

peter's voice is soft, scared if he spoke any louder he'd scare y/n off. "i don't know what it is about you y/n, but i've always been captived by you."

"captived?" y/n reiterates, surprised at the confession by the boy. her cheeks grow hotter as peter moves forward, now standing directly in between y/n's thighs. his hands don't leave her legs, while his thumbs rub comforting circles over her skin.

"why do you think i stop by here every week?" he honestly asks.

y/n shrugs, as her brain becomes foggy at the close proximity of the pair, "because you care about me?"

peter slightly chuckles, "well yeah i care about you. but it's mainly an excuse so i can see you."

y/n doesn't know how to respond, and is grateful once peter continues, "i've liked you since the first day of freshman year. i've always liked you y/n. even when you dated that douchebag jonathan, and came home crying almost every night because of him. i've liked you since sophomore formal, and i got enough courage to ask you to dance with me. i've liked you since i told you i was spiderman, basically trusting you with the biggest secret of my entire life. and i've liked you since you started applying to all these colleges. i've always liked you y/n."

y/n's silent, as she takes in all of peter's words. of course they all caught her by surprise. she's liked peter since the night of the sophomore formal. she remembers the night vividly. how she danced with peter, and got milkshakes with him afterwards.

peter's voice gets caught in his throat, creating a more raspiness to it as his leans closer towards y/n and whispers, "if you don't want me to kiss you, just say so."

only a moment passes before y/n's the one to lean forward, connecting her lips to peter's. her hands move to his shoulders, and peter kisses her with such force. he's been waiting to kiss the girl for four years, of course there's going to be force behind it.

"wow," y/n whispers as peter pulls away. her hands don't leave his shoulders, and only move to his neck to lightly play with the curls at the base of his neck.

peter looks down to his midtown sweatshirt y/n's wearing, "y'know, i could get used to you wearing my clothes."

y/n giggles, a hard blush forming on her cheeks. peter leans forward and kisses y/n's lips again, much quicker than before.

"how would you feel about being spiderman's girlfriend?" peter asks.

"it would be an honor," y/n giggles once again, before pulling peter in again and kissing his lips. that wasn't the only kiss shared for the rest of the night.

[multifandomwriter56]

As It Was

A/N: Hello! I know I've been MIA for a long time. Life has been crazy and going back to college while having a full time job has taken a lot of my time. But I'm hoping to get back to writing on this blog. I've missed it and I have missed everyone so much. I make no promises but I'm going to try.

Summary: Arthur and Y/n have always been super close; but when the boys get back from the war, things have change.

Characters: Arthur Shelby, Tommy Shelby, Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions Arthur's attempt at suicide

Word Count: 2,698

*gif is not mine*

The rumor about the men who came back from the war are not the same men that left; It’s true. No one came back the same after the war. Not a single soul.

But it wasn’t just the soldiers who changed. Those who were stuck at home, waiting for their loved ones to return. They changed too.

Y/n couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she changed. She just remembers one day realizing she’s not the little girl who loved to draw rainbows, horses, and flowers anymore. Or the little girl who taught Finn how to aim at a moving rat, even though their Aunt Polly despised them touching guns. Not even the little girl who would take walks with her favorite brother, Arthur.

Y/n would never say she has a favorite brother aloud, but she knows her family sees how close the oldest brother and youngest sister are. There may be eighteen years difference between them, but they would sometimes act like twins.

Y/n enjoys John’s company and loves his jokes. Finn, she will always protect and care for. Ada, well they clash on fashion and boys, but they would kill for one another. And Tommy, well, the two siblings have never been able to get along. Tommy had big dreams that didn’t include his baby sister. Greta wanted to change the world and wanted Tommy to help her. Y/n wanted Tommy to help take care of the family instead of spending all his time at the docks waiting for the young woman to show up.

Even at a young age, Y/n knew it would always be Tommy who would provide for the family; be their leader. She loves Arthur, but he’s more of a follower than a leader. Tommy has always had ideas and Y/n knew those ideas would help them rise in Small Heath.

So with the boys off fighting in the war, Y/n made sure to follow her brother’s orders on how to run the shop.

Polly was the only one Y/n would let stray from Tommy’s list.

“You’re ten years old, Y/n. You are not the boss and know nothing about bets.” Her aunt admonishes.

“I know enough, Polly. I have Tommy’s list and Arthur’s notes.”

“So now you’re an expert at running betting shops?”

“I wasn’t saying that.” The ten year mumbles.

“Then you’ll do your best to remember who is in charge of the business.”

Y/n knows when to stop when it comes to her aunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Y/n will admit, she learnt a lot from her aunt; not just business, but women’s business.

But now that the war is over, Y/n’s noticed how more involved Tommy is; how he keeps adding to the business.

Arthur is less present when it comes to his baby sister. They don’t go on walks anymore.

The fourteen year old moved into Arthur’s home when they came back. She wanted away from her very controlling brother and closer to the brother she knows best.

Except now, it seems that she understands Tommy more than she does Arthur.

The war may have changed all of her brothers, but something broke in Arthur. His nightmares keep her up at night and the one time she tried to wake him up, he almost choked her to death.

After that, she would either lay in her bed, listening to his screams or she would get John if the screams lasted longer than ten minutes.

“You shouldn’t be at Arthur’s alone.” Tommy tells his sister as he lit a cigarette.

“I’m not alone. Arthur is there.”

“You know what I mean, Y/n. Arthur is struggling and you being around isn’t helping.”

Y/n scoffs. “Actually, I think I help Arthur more than you can ever imagine trying to help him. You just hate that I’m not under your roof and you can’t boss me around.”

Tommy points his lit cigarette at her, his eyebrows raised in warning. “You will do as you're told or I will turn you over my knee.”

Y/n once again scoffs. Tommy has never disciplined her, he wasn’t ever around to take her in hand. That dirty task was left to their aunt. “Not only am I fourteen years old, but you have never raised a hand to me. Why start now?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n.”

Yeah, he’s bluffing, Y/n thinks. She stands to her feet. “Yes sir, Sergeant Major. If that’s all, Sergeant, I would like to finish my studies. Wouldn’t want to show up to school without my work now would we?”

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to keep arguing with his sister. He, instead, waves his hand in a dismissive gesture without even glancing up.

The day Y/n dreaded came. Arthur had tried to commit suicide by hanging himself after he fell for their father’s con. She had found him at their home, raging and destroying the room. She skillfully dodged his swings and shouted at him.

“Arthur! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” She ducks when he throws an ashtray at her head. “It’s Y/n, brother!”

“Y/n?”

The broken voice has Y/n on the verge of tears. “Yes.” She nods her head. “It’s Y/n. I’m here.” She makes her way to her brother as his knees buckle and he lands on the floor. She holds him close, his chin digging into her shoulder as he sobs.

Y/n doesn’t know how long they stay in this position but she loses feeling in her left shoulder and feet.

When Arthur finally is able to compose himself, he stands to his feet, rubbing a shaking hand through his hair.

“Arthur, what happened to your neck?”

The older man covers the deep bruise around his neck. “Nothing.”

Y/n starts to shake her head, the pieces falling together. “No, no. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave me here.” She stops talking but her head is still moving side to side; not wanting to accept that her brother, her hero, tried to kill himself.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I-”

“No!” She sharply cuts him off. “Don’t apologize. I just need a moment to process.” She sits in a chair that he hadn’t flipped yet. “I need to figure out what to do. I need- no you need some of Polly’s ointment, and a drink… yeah, yeah.” She stands to her feet, ignoring the concerned look coming from her brother. “Sit down, Arthur. I’ll pour you some whiskey and get some ointment to help with the bruising.

“Y/n, I don’t- fuck.” Arthur curses when she completely ignores him and heads for the kitchen.

Only a few minutes pass until Y/n comes back. She hands the glass of whiskey to him and starts applying the ointment.

Y/n stayed with her brother until he decided to go to bed. She heads up to her room. In the morning, she’ll tell Polly. Fuck knows what Tommy will say if he hears about this. She never knows if he will help Arthur or make it worse.

In the morning. Y/n told her aunt and she should have known her aunt would tell their fearless leader. So she wasn’t surprised to see him walk in as she hands Arthur a cup of tea.

The look Tommy sends her is clear.

She smiles softly at her eldest brother. “I will be up in my room if you need me.” She tells him, her invitation not extending to the other brother.

She heads upstairs but does not go into her room. She sits on the top step, listening as Tommy belittles their brother. She rolls her eyes. She should’ve known Tommy would never express real feelings.

“Just use a fucking gun, man.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Y/n shouts as she storms down the stairs. “That’s all you have? Next time, use a gun?”

“Leave it be, Y/n.”

Y/n glares at Arthur. “No, Arthur, I can’t just leave it be.” She turns her glare back at the brother she is upset with. “I know it’s hard for you to express feelings now, but I would rather you not say anything at all than talk to our brother that way. He deserves better.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.”

“Fuck off, Thomas!” She shouts as she steps in his space. “You only care about having Arthur around so he can beat and kill people who piss you off. That’s all that matters to the all powerful Tommy Shelby.”

The slap echoes throughout the whole house, each sibling frozen in their place.

Y/n holds a hand over her now stinging cheek, staring at the man who has never raised a hand to her. Her and Tommy may not get along but she never thought he would physically harm her. Never.

She turns to Arthur, wondering how he will react. To her surprise he’s staring at her in disappointment.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Tommy like that, Y/n. You were out of line.”

“I was out of line?” She snaps. “What am I supposed to do, Arthur, eh? Am I supposed to stand at attention and wait for the sergeant to bark orders? Huh?”

“Enough.” He doesn’t shout, but his voice still booms, causing his baby sister to flinch, preparing for another blow.

The guilt had already come, but seeing her flinch made Tommy feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n, I-” He reaches out to comfort her but stops when she steps back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me. I hate you.” She looks at Arthur. “I hate you both.”

“Let her go, Arthur.” Tommy orders when the eldest Shelby stands to follow Y/n who ran out of the house.

***

For a month, Y/n stays with John and his kids; but as much as she loves her nieces and nephews, she refuses to stay there another night.

Lizzie Stark, who’s been helping her brother with the kids, tells her to go back home, to work it out with Arthur.

“And Tommy?” The fourteen year old asks the older woman.

Lizzie smirks. “Tell him to fuck off.”

Y/n smiles at that. She hopes her brother doesn’t wait too long to give Lizzie the ring he’s been hiding.

Knowing exactly where her brother will be, Y/n heads to the Garrison. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the locked door.

“We’re closed.” Is the muffled response from the barmaid.

“It’s Y/n Shelby.” She knows that’s all she has to say for the doors to open. Grace has been kind to her since she’s started working at the pub, and Y/n appreciates that, but she doesn’t trust the barmaid. She’s not sure why, but she has a hard time believing this Irish woman just decided to move to Birmingham without a real reason.

When the door opens, she smiles politely at Grace before squeezing past her. She heads straight to the back room, knowing her eldest brother will be attempting to balance the books.

She comes to halt mere centimeters from the entrance, her heart racing. What if he really is on Tommy’s side? What if he thinks she really did deserve to be slapped? What if she’s completely lost the only person to ever love her for her?

“Gracie, is that you? You ready to help me with these numbers yet?”

Y/n laughs quietly through the breath she was holding. Who is she kidding? Arthur is one of the kindest, loving people she knows. How could he hate her… right?

“It’s me, Arthur.” She barely gets that short sentence out above a whisper.

“Y/n?”

She steps fully into the room, her arms behind her back. “Hi.”

Arthur just stares at his baby sister, the anger, the pain of not seeing her for days, and the guilt… the guilt that has literally eaten him alive, rises to the surface. His loyalty to his brother clouded his love for his sister and he will hate himself for the rest of his life.

Being a Shelby makes it hard for them to express their emotions through words. No matter the emotion, the words usually fail to spit out, but actions, they’ve never been a problem for a Shelby.

So instead of saying the words, “I’m sorry” Arthur jumps to his feet and pulls the young girl into his arms, holding as tight as he can.

And since Y/n is not only a Shelby but also able to read her brother like a book, Y/n returns the hug and her anger disappears.

“You’re coming back home, ain’t ya?”

Y/n smiles, glad she was right. “My bag is already back in my room.”

Arthur squeezes her one more time, dropping a wet kiss on top of her head before releasing her. “Good.”

Y/n goes to ask him about how he’s been but a familiar voice stops her.

“Arthur, Tommy told me to get you. Family meeting in ten.” Finn turns to his sister, hope in his eyes. “Are you back?”

Y/n had kept in touch with Finn, having him fill her in on everything that was happening while she was gone. Finn didn’t know much, but she was able to fill in the gaps on most of what he told her.

“Yes, I’m back.”

Finn smiles. “Good. Arthur’s been too emotional and Tommy’s about to shoot him if he hears him complain one more time about you not being at the family meetings.”

Y/n laughs at Finn’s blunt statement; laughing harder when Arthur spouts profanities as he takes off after the youngest Shelby. She follows the duo, figuring it’s time for her to show her faceto the rest of the family.

Her smile stays in place as they make their way to Watery Lane, listening to her brother banter back and forth about what to tell and what to keep to yourself. So far, Finn’s winning the argument.

She can feel her smile start to get smaller the closer they get to her old home; and the smile completely disappears when Arthur opens the door for her. She comes to a halt at the threshold of the betting shop, her eyes immediately on the Peaky Blinders leader.

She’s thankful he hasn’t noticed her yet, but that little comfort quickly disappears when her aunt tells him to shut up as she makes her way to her niece.

Y/n easily accepts the hug from her aunt, the woman who practically raised her, but winces when she gets a clip to her ear.

“A month is too damn long, girl.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers as Polly releases her; a small smile appears when her aunt gently caresses her cheek.

Knowing she needs to face the elephant in the room, or more commonly known as Thomas Shelby, Y/n peels her eyes off her aunt and stares straight into her brother’s eyes, hoping he can’t see the fear in them.

Compared to the other family members, Tommy is a mute when it comes to emotions. The only time words and emotions are mixed together is when he’s angry. He doesn’t say “I love you”, “I need you”, or anything that is remotely tied to emotions.

That said, the man is a master at showing his emotions through actions. One look can tell you so much about the gang leader. You just have to know how to read them; and Y/n is a master at this skill. She’s almost as good as their aunt.

So when she sees the barely noticeable nod of approval, and watches as Tommy pulls out a chair; she knows she has been welcomed back by their fearless leader.

And after she sits, he gently kisses her cheek, the same cheek he hurt a month ago, and she knows he’s asking for forgiveness.

She grasps his hand before he can pull away, giving it one good squeeze, so he knows he’s been forgiven.

They will never have a relationship like her and Arthur, or like him and Ada; but they can coexist together in their family; and that’s enough for them both.

Peaky Blinders: @psychkunox @theshelbyclan @lilymurphy03 @findinghisredrighthand

Forevers: @desiredposion @theseakrakence @simonsbluee

[killmongerskeeper]

Crashing Waves // Chapter 1 // Namor

Pairing: Namor X POC Reader

Warning: SPOILERS If you haven't seen Black Panther 2 / Violence

A/N: Time to roll out the Namor fics! Because that man had me in a chokehold!

Chapter 2

You were fuming. Stuck on this stupid military site in the middle of the fucking ocean with two people pole who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. Taking a student's science fair project is one thing, but actually stumbling across vibranium in the middle of the ocean. Yeah that's not good. You have to keep it out of the wrong hands. You promised Shuri. Even if you had to use your powers to do so. 

T'Challa calls it being gifted. You call it being cursed. Being able to manipulate things telepathically. Force fields, mind control and shit. Nothing too extreme like Wanda Maximoff. More of a simplified version. Only difference is you can see through other people's eyes. 

Shuri always wanted to see you do it in person. Wakanda has done so much for you. Saved your life when Killmonger took over, treated your stab wound from battle, and offered their home to you. I made new friends and found a family. You owe them your life. Queen Ramonda, Shuri, T'Challa. The least you could do was help protect what was theirs

"We should leave it alone! You and everyone else heard what the queen of Wakanda said. We can't just go around stealing their resources!" You shouted as the general stood with his arms crossed. 

"Vibranium could be what this nation needs to prevent war. And it's right here at the bottom of the ocean." The other agent spoke and you snapped your head in her direction.

"Taking the vibranium will start a war! Are you guys that dense?" You shouted and then she stood holding her hands out to calm you down.

"Professor. Y/N. Please we are too close to pull back now. The vibranium is right there." She tried to reason with you but you knew the consequences behind this. Especially after hearing the queen's threat. You knew better than to take it lightly. 

"And what if the Wakandans show up. If they decide to take more of a lethal approach? That is a war you won't win." You told her as the general walked closer to the two of you.

"Professor, we brought you out here to help us find and secure the vibranium given your abilities. What we didnt bring you here for was to give us a pep talk. Now if you won't help us, you can go back to that classroom at that university."

It's true they came to you because of your experience with Wakanda and the folklore you grew up on. With you knowing the history of Wakanda and vibranium, you were a perfect pick. You didn't however expect them to actually find it. 

"My pep talk just might save your ass, general. I'm not talking for my health. You wanted me here because I've been there, I know them. Now I'm trying to help you BECAUSE I've been there. This will not end well for you." You sneered in defiance and he scoffed. 

"Fine. We won't need you up here. Take her to her room, and keep her there." You raised an eyebrow as a soldier grabbed your arm, dragging you out the room. 

"Ross will hear about this!" 

After a couple minutes descending the stairs you were now locked in your room with the soldier standing guard at the door. 

"Fucking asshole!" You shouted as you slid your back down the wall to sit on the floor while you held up your hand. The green hue danced around your brown fingers as you stared into the small void it created. You smiled at the memory you had stored away from when you revealed this to Shuri and T'Challa for the first time. How they asked you to stay in Wakanda with them. As much as you wanted to stay, you had to decline because you couldn't leave your younger brother behind. But now your brother is in college and T'Challa is gone. You should've been there. With them. To console them as they did you when your mother died.

"They're making a mistake! War with Wakanda isn't a good thing!" You shouted at the guard and he waved you off. They could be coming for me, you know? I could've contacted them about the vibranium you guys found down there!" You lied through your teeth and grinned when that caught his attention. He turned to you with a horrified stare and you shrugged. 

"They are my friends, you know." You started as you stood on your feet walking towards the door. He went to speak before a couple of gunshots rang out and we both froze. 

"Did you really contact the Wakandans?" He asked with fear laced in his voice. 

"Um no. I was bullshitting you actually. Are we under attack?" You questioned and he readied his weapon before taking a deep breath. 

"Stay here." He said and you shrugged. 

"Not like I have a choice. Wait, don't leave me down here!" You screamed after him as he went to investigate what was going on. You quickly locked the door and shot out a small green sphere into his back as he disappeared up the stairs where you couldn't see him anymore. Closing your eyes your vision was replaced with the soldier's as he slowly approached the top. The general was now a dead man as he hung from the wall by a spear. He looked up into the sky in time to see the chopper get thrown into the ocean.

The soldier's breathing became irregular as he began to panic so you decided to speak to him. "Relax, just hurry up and radio for help." He jumped a bit, startled by the voice in his head and he sighed. 

"I forgot you could do that." He mumbled as he went for the general's radio. "Mayday. We're under attack at the vibranium site. Send a strike team now."

"Copy that. Do you recognize the assailants?" Another voice asked and he looked around. "Wakandans."

"No. These aren't Wakandans." You said and the soldier frowned. 

"Then who-" Without warning your vision came back to you causing you to fall over. The soldier is dead. You sat up to catch your breath as you stared at the door.

"Who the fuck-" you started before the sound of the steps reached your ears. You quickly stood with your arm stretched out aiming at the door ready for whoever it may be. The knob turned once before complete silence engulfed the room. You held my stance as some curls fell in your face. Whatever it is, you're ready for it.

[fxchild]

The Switch

Miles Fairchild x fem!reader

Chapter nine: Make you stay.

--------------------------------

Miles pov

I think it's been one- no. Two weeks, since Y/n had that.. encounter? It's not like we had sex or anything but I definitely didn't expect to make out on her bed until Flora came banging on her door complaining about a nightmare, while Y/n forced me to hide under her damn bed on the cold floor for half an hour while she made sure Flora went to sleep and didn't bother us again. I was kinda glad we got interrupted if I'm being honest. Even though Y/n pounced on me like a lion to a gazelle, she seemed pretty nervous whenever I kissed her too hard or if I touched her leg. Believe it or not things have been even more awkward than before when we were constantly nipping at each other and now I'm starting to miss the fighting more than the dry tension in the room.

Anyways, I've got about fourteen days to make things less awkward and for her to stay with us for the summer. I heard her talking on the phone a few days back, thinking about taking up a different job in California. Her teacher recommended it or some shit, get into a better college. She's not going to Harvard I know that for sure.

Something that's been pissing me off is that Quint has been messing with her head so now she sleeps with the door off and the lamp lights on. I asked him to lay off but it's not doing much. I've been trying to sneak in to make sure he's not fucking with her in her sleep or anything. She's only sixteen like me after all, he shouldn't be messing with kids our age, especially the ones I want to stay.

Uhm, another thing is that I've been out of it for a day or two. Like my throat is pretty dry and I've had a wicked headache. I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow with a cold I'm gonna be pissed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your pov

It's been about two weeks since Miles and I had that half-assed hookup. Ever since then it's been so awkward. We can't even speak to each other now for more than two sentences before getting freaked out and forgetting what we were talking about. I mean, it's easier to focus on Flora and her work, but at the same time it's boring without being able to pick a fight with Miles. I miss our back and forth bickering because at least it kept us talking and occupied. I have fifteen days before I go back home for the summer, I really wanted to stay but I've gotten more job offerings in new places and I want to go out and explore. Plus, spending the summer in some creepy ass house, with a boy who can't even be in the same room as me for five minutes doesn't seem like the ideal summer. I feel bad for leaving Flora, and I guess Miles because they are all alone with Ms. Grose, who is lucky if she can live another four years. But I need to put myself first, that's what's important. I just wish Miles would talk to me before I leave, because even though we snap at each other, he's been growing on me. I'm not saying I like his stuck up asshole personality but I see how he is with Flora and I sometimes wish he could be able to open up to me like that.

This morning I woke up to the sound of projectile vomiting. I figured it was coming from Flora's room since she ate a lot of chocolate last night. I ran to her room to check on her to find her still asleep in her bed. Then I realized that the puking and groaning was coming from Miles room. I debated on leaving him there to take care of himself since he thinks he's grown and can take care of himself but then I remembered the time I was drunk. The way he drove me home at 2am and stayed outside my door all night in case I felt sick again. I walked into his room and knocked on his closed bathroom door.

"Miles, it's just me. I'm gonna come in okay?" I say as I hear him groan and spit into the toilet. I open the door to see his face almost glued to the toilet bowl, gasping and throwing up. I sit next to him and rub his back, grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper so he can wipe his mouth when he's done. "Get it all out, that's it.." I whisper to him as he continues to gag.

When he finishes he grabs the toilet paper from my hand and wipes his mouth, flushing the toilet. I let him sit on the floor with his back pressed against the wall for a moment as I grab a washcloth, drenching it in cold water. I put it on the back of his neck as he tries to stand up. He walks over to me where I'm putting toothpaste on his toothbrush and handing it to him.

"Make sure to brush your tongue too." I put the cap back on his toothpaste. "I'm gonna get you a new shirt, there's a little bit of puke on it." I point to the spot on his shirt. I walk out of his room and open his closet, looking for an old shirt in the piles on the floor. Miles walks back into the room and curls up on his mattress with his washcloth in his hands. I didn't even realize he came back into the room until he spoke up and groaned.

"Jesus it's fucking freezing in here.." I turned around to see him shirtless, breathing heavily and laying down. I grab a random green shirt and walk over to his mattress.

"No Miles, sit up you have to let your stomach settle for a bit." I prop his pillows against the wall and help him sit up a bit. I let him put his new shirt on and pulled the covers up to his waist. I felt his forehead and winced at his temperature. "Miles, you're really hot." I sighed and bit my bottom lip trying to think of how to take care of him.

He let out a chuckle and wrapped a hand over his stomach. "I'm hot? Thanks.." I frown at him since this isn't something to be joking about. "Not funny." I say with pursed lips and put the washcloth on his forehead.

"I'm gonna go to the store to get you some medicine. Flora used it the last time she was sick. Do you want me to pick you up something?" I put my hands on my hips and waited for his response.

He sat there for a second to think, "Am I even allowed to eat anything? Like I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to eat when you're sick." He tilted his head, squinting his eyes.

"You're allowed to eat Miles but only if you feel up for it. I can pick you up some grits, or popsicles? Do you sound up for that when you get your appetite back?" I rub the back of my neck, giving him a sympathetic look.

"I'm not hungry..I-I don't care okay? I'll be fine by tomorrow." He shakes his head and waves his hand in the air.

"Okay, well I'm still going to the store because I'm not putting up with your whining later. I'll be back in an hour okay?" I shrug and ruffle his hair lightly before trying to smack my hands away.

I brush my teeth, grab my keys and put on some slippers. I head out to the car to start for the store.

--------------------------------

Miles pov

She couldn't have taken any fucking longer to get back from the store could she? I'm sitting in my bed, trying my best for an hour to hold my stomach until she comes back but it's getting too painful. I ran to the bathroom throwing up nothing but stomach acid. I was panting and almost crying from the pain, it felt like my stomach was twisting. Y/n hears me gagging and rushes into the bathroom to rub my back and hold back my hair. When I'm done, there's tears in my eyes from the pain and she gives me this stupid sad look like she feels sorry for me or some dumb shit. I sit on my bathroom counter as she hands me my toothbrush again. She opens up a small can of Gingerale and puts it on my nightstand.

"You don't have to drink it now, but if your stomach feels funny again try some. It works trust me." She smiles and feels my forehead again to see if my fever had gone down a little. I sit there under the covers with my head against the wall as Y/n sits at the end of my mattress reading a book.

"What's that?" I say weakly, motioning to the book. I catch her attention and she smiles. "A book?" She giggles trying to be funny or something.

"Yeah, no shit." I chuckle and she gives me an unamused look. So apparently I'm not allowed to be funny anymore I guess. "What's it about?"

"It's about a prince trying to find his princess through a dream. It's really cute." She gets up to sit next to me on the mattress, showing me the blurb.

"Oh.. fantasy?" I mutter out as a question.

"Yeah, I like fantasy. You don't?" She tilts her head to look at me, tabbing her book before closing it. I shrug, "I mean, it's not bad but I just can't ever get into it."

"Well maybe that's because you haven't read a good one." She smirks, and for a second I feel like we aren't talking about books. I shook my head and stayed silent for a few minutes.

"You know, I usually get sick in the summer." I give her a side glance. I lied, I never get sick. This was the first time in probably a year and a half I've gotten sick. "I mean, who's gonna get me a cold washcloth and rub my back when I'm throwing up?" I smirk at her slightly.

"Ms. Grose?" She jokes and I roll my eyes.

"Be serious Y/n. She's so old I think she's gonna kick the bucket any day now. And when she does that, who's gonna help me take care of Flora? I don't have any parents you know." I sit up more and turn to face her, putting my hands in my lap.

She sighs and turns to face me. "Who said I was leaving?" She gives me a confused look.

"Y/n I heard you on the phone. I mean California seems nice, but is that what you really want?" I give her a dead eyed look and raise a brow.

She studies my face letting out a deep breath, "Miles, you don't even like having me around. We fight all the time, why do you want me around?" She shakes her head and leans back a little bit.

"Come on, Flora will miss you. She'll be upset that you aren't coming back. I mean she really loves you, fuck, she wants you to be her mother! She needs you, Y/n- I-I need you okay? I can't even take care of myself while I'm sick and you expect me to take care of myself, a whole property and a little girl? I mean, jesus, what do I have to do to make you stay?" I spurt out quickly, motioning my hands everywhere with dramatic tones.

She smiles for a moment and grabs my hand, "You just did." She gives me a sincere look, like we finally came to an agreement. I let out a relieved sigh I didn't even know I was holding and she giggled. "Why do we fight so much? Everything would be so much easier if we just listened to each other, you know?" She asks even though she sounds like she already knows her own reason.

"I think you know why I do it.." I look at my red candles I caught her staring at one day in particular when she first came into my room.

She looked at the candles then back at my eyes. "Because you don't know how to treat people?" She barely whispered out. She looked into my eyes for a moment before speaking once more. "I only pick fights with you cause I think you're kinda cute." She admits, leaning back again.

I raise a brow, "You think I'm cute?" I chuckle and she let's go of my hand, she's trying to bite back a smile.

"Yeah, you're cute. So what?" She smirks and we stare at each other. I think we were both waiting for one of us to do something, anything. But no one moved or spoke. After a moment of my silence she got up and put the covers back over my waist. "You should get some rest, it's not good to stay up when you're delirious." She gave me a dejected look and turned off my lamp.

"I'm not delirious." I grab her wrist gently and assure her.

"You're sick, Miles." She gives me a stern tone, and eyes me down to let go of her wrist.

"I know what I'm saying, Y/n." I gulp and give her the smallest smile I could muster and let go of her wrist, laying back into the pillows. She slides a hand on my forehead and it goes into my curls. She kissed my forehead and walked to the door.

"Get some sleep, call me if you need anything okay?" She gave me a sad smile and walked out of the room.

Now she was just confusing me because did she just reject me without either of us talking about dating? I don't think I asked her out but I think I wanted to. I want to I really do, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when she can't take me seriously? I better get over this damn sickness soon.

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Hi hi! It's fxchild back again with another chapter! Sorry if this is bad I had to rewrite it THREE times because it kept god damn deleting. This took me 2 hours and 15 minutes to write (I timed it yes) so hopefully you enjoyed it. Plsplspls if you did not see my other post to put some requests in because this will be one of the last chapters until Mr. Fairchild finishes his story. I literally do not care what you ask me to write as long as it's not acc insane. If my requests don't work PLEASE dm me I will answer because no one texts me like ever ! Anyways, I love you guys so so much 💕 thank you for continuing to motivate me to write.

-fxchild

[baldwinboy5ive]

I've been talking to several different folks about how nervous I am about where they're going to go with Hawk and Demetri at the end of the season... I eventually decided I might as well jot some of it down here to see if my feelings change when I see how it all ultimately plays out at the very end.

First, I have already gone ON AND ON at length about this with some friends and don't think this part needs to be expanded on here, but - I find it kind of astonishing that the writing for their fight right now is actually realistic. I think it's pretty good writing and I am actually really okay with it, and it MAKES SENSE to me.

That's... kind of the problem, haha. It makes sense. And it's realistic.

It's realistic for best friends - even REALLY REALLY CLOSE best friends - to go to different colleges and/or drift apart because of college.

But this is TV Land and I don't want that particular variety of realistic for these particular two characters. I just don't. I think I just want them to be together forever.

They could even write that and have it be kind of bittersweet and still be a happy ending where they stay friends or whatever but I'm not sure if I want that.

Honestly if I wanted to see a beautiful portrayal of a somewhat realistic in theme, if not in actual events, separation of friends because of high school graduation, and the melancholy acceptance of that separation knowing that your friendship will NEVER be the same after this no matter how much you wish it could be because people change so much in college, then goddammit I'd watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off, not Cobra Kai!!! Look, just let me have my stupid happy ending in Cobra Kai, because Ferris Bueller already did that perfectly and I don't want to see it in this hahaahahah I just want them to be unrealistically together forever and ever hahaha. Okay?!

See, Ferris Bueller was unrealistic in its wacky hijinks-ness... but it was PAINFULLY realistic in its presentation of the fears of individuality and growing up and growing apart from your friends and the inevitable big changes that happen in people's lives as they grow from childhood to adulthood...

Yeah, I'm just not sure I want that for them haha, I just want them together forever.

I have to credit @blinkasaurus though for GIVING me the Secret Third Option: by telling me that, because MIT and Harvard are not only affiliated but also incredibly physically close to each other, students at one can actually take certain classes at the other. I had no idea. I found out they're literally like two miles from each other. That's like, a brisk walk, or a short motorcycle ride, or, as she also pointed out to me, TWO SUBWAY STOPS.

I think that Demetri, being a west coast kid AND on top of that being so focused on only one dream school for his life, could easily just not know about these schools being so physically close. I mean, I knew they were in the same general area but not THAT close. And certainly not that thing about taking classes at the other.

So, hey, if this is how it works out, then it could really work for Eli because I think it's not the school, i think it's the fact that they both have changed so much since they made their "we're going to both go to MIT together" pact that he isn't sure he's that same person anymore and he has to figure out his individuality and how to be on his own. Maybe this way, he gets to strike it on his own, while still going to A Smart Person School (as @demetriandelibinaryboyfriends puts it hahah), possibly even The Smart Person School.

Demetri is dismayed to find out they’ll be going to different schools… but then not really! They’d literally be so close they could even just room with each other after their first year in the dorms or something. Which is exactly something I wrote about before this season aired.

I do kind of feel like it IS so different over there. Things are just so spread out in CA. I could absolutely see two friends going to, say, UCLA and USC and not being able to see each other frequently. But this would be different. They really could still be together.

It would practically still feel like them getting to go to the same school, with neither of them feeling abandoned by the other, while still feeling like they got to do what they wanted to do.

I don't know if I can cope with this being them.

This whole day was many things, about which many, many folks have written far better than I could, but one of them was the looming, impending knowledge that Ferris would eventually have to accept, that things were going to change. And maybe not for the better, because who knows? But that would be for another day.

I'm just not sure I really want or need Eli and Demetri to have to go through that!

[ssaluss]

With shadow generations i've been thinking about Silver a Lot.

This will be a Long rant about a comic/concept that i will NOT be able to work upon, i'm a full time College student and work as an illustrator via Freelance, alongside personal projects ill say i feel like i have too much at hand but enough talk, concept below cut

As you'll see, this was inpired by Mephiles return, i can Dream abou a new silver campaing and i think a good villain would be Silver himself (Kinda inspired by an video i've seen years ago, if i remember wich one i'll link it in the comments).

Like, erased Silver being one of the remnants of this forgotten world, going back to his future to find nothing, learning how to time travel himself so he could save the life he wanted to have, but he keeps failing because he (his 2006 self) don't exist anymore.

Erased/06 Silver is a different entity than current canon Silver, whom i imagine have an ok future that sometimes is in danger so he goes back, fix things and everything is fine and rainbows again.

Borrowing the concept of multiple realities out of prime and dimensions cause Rush, Erased Silver trying everything he could to save his reality, his world in shambles and everyone that could have survived, he tried the chaos emeralds, not his as his world don't exist anymore, searching through dimensions and alternative realities were, even if he gater them all, they do nothing, even the Master emerald once, it just kicked him back to the nothingness.

So he becomes not quite a villain but someone desperate by all means to just exist.

I just think its neat the team discovering some new threat cause the Canon Silver said his future is starting to colapse but he can't trace the moment in time that explains why, just to fight something like the Time Eater but learning that the one pulling the strings is someone that seems familiar but they can't figure out why (different design, maybe masks like infinite or shade ya know). And he keeps the theme Mephiles started...

"I want to exist"

In his mind he's still a hero trying to fix everything and bring everyone back.

The more fanfic-ish thing out of this already fanfic-ish concept is Canon Silver or Good Future Silver being raised by Shadow cause i love their dynamic and think its neat, not in the board of "oh he's actually his biological father" yadda yadda (if you are thats ok, im in this boat if we talk about vincent and sephiroth) but id like an adopted father/tutor role cause my boy Shad have seem much and he cares about his friends, so if he saw little silver just waddling around you can't convince me he wouldn't take care of the little thing (and i love the idea of silver's bracelets being some kind of inhibitor, im still making fanfic at heart).

Also holy shit What im made of is back this was my whole childhood soundtrack alongside his world and i am all of me.