#i can only assume it’s dire

[procedurebybyte]

marcille and laios have like shit going on but union man chilchuck is paid to be here. imagining working at like a store and it’s just kinda your standard workday and then your two coworkers start doing extremely emotionally fraught necromancy in the back room and you’re like. i am paid minimum wage.

[brittlebutch]

have been thinking about Until Dawn again -- do we ever like, fully understand what Josh had planned for Matt and Emily? Like, did he steal/hide her bag or something to get them out into the woods? Or was that just some kind of coincidence that played out like he hoped it would?

[lesbianlenas]

we did a draft for bb for the first time in my house & the way my draft team is def the worst now 😭 my dad didn’t even pick his team he just got whoever my mom & i didn’t want & his team is better than mine……bleak 😔

[raeathnos]

.

[elvenmoe]

He’s everywhere and reverse also references the great Gatsby so they could work and that’s lowkey scary and high key hilarious.

Imagine the mystery shack just survived the storm and no shenanigans affect it

Not in the same way as Vertins suitcase but in its own unique way…

Who knows how or why it just does. Vertin would just bring the twins in the chaos as Vertin does

Anyways enough rambling

Tuesday stay safe with your son whose an interdimensional triangle

reverse 1999 2.1 spoiler alert☠️ baby bill is fucking here

[neil-gaiman]

I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.

According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.

What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.

The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.

I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.

The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.

So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.

Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.

But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.

I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.

Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.

Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...

[sagelasters]

barbados is a mindset

“Yes. You are now in Barbados. And so… you see Barbados, and you see America from Barbados, and you can smell the tropical land of Barbados, see only the little homes of Barbados, and that’s all you do. You just simply sleep this night in Barbados.” - Abdullah tells Neville.

Before Neville Goddard knew of the law and practiced it, his country was plunged in a state of instability. Poverty runs rampant as the global stock market crashes, sparking panic and leaving many penniless. Neville explained the vivid details of homeless people scattered all over tunnels and city square, eyes void of hope for the future. He was unemployed just like millions of others, his career as a dancer wasn’t enough to support his living. Neville lived in a basement for years with little to no income until one day, he met his friend, Abdullah. 

Abdullah was well-off and is the son of the US secretary of the Treasury, who served under the 32nd president. The differences between them were large and Neville was aware of it. He confided in his friend and told him that he has this haunting desire to visit Barbados again. The only thing that was stopping Neville though, was the lack of money. In which Abdullah says, 

“You are in Barbados.”

Of course, Neville thought he was nuts but the man decided to try and assume that he was in Barbados. That night, he went to sleep thinking that he would wake up in Barbados, only to be disappointed that he woke up in the cold basement he called his home. Neville would come back and tell Abdullah that it didn’t work, only for the latter to ignore him. Despite that Neville kept persisting and on the morning of December, he got a letter from his older brother asking him to visit his family in Barbados – his brother had paid a third class ticket. Excited, Neville told Abdullah that he is going to Barbados however, his friend was unimpressed. Abdullah told Neville that he wasn’t boarding a third class ticket, he was going to go there with a first class ticket. 

And guess what? When Neville gave his ticket to the clerk by the desk as they’re checking in passengers, they told him that someone canceled their first class ticket, therefore a spot was available for him. 

Abdullah ignored Neville when he said ‘it didn’t work’ because it did work, if Neville was assuming that he was in Barbados, they wouldn’t be having this discussion about him not being there. What can you take from this story? I would say that unfortunate circumstances don't matter, especially when we see how bad and dire Neville’s financial situation was. Come on, he was in a country torn apart by war and poverty, yet he was still able to visit Barbados. Neville didn’t think of how he’d get there, he just simply assumed that he was there, and his 3D reality follows right after. 

Barbados is a mindset. If you can imagine yourself having it and then accept that it is yours, you’re at the end. Your assumption is the fetus, continue nourishing it with beliefs and affirmations – let that child grow and become. If you drop your assumption that basically means you’re neglecting the fetus, and it will eventually die from starvation. 

It doesn't matter if you have no money, it doesn't matter if you're in an abusive situation, it doesn't matter that you barely have a roof over your head. You are already in Barbados, tune into your inner man and bask in that.

EDIT: My apologies for getting the information mixed up. Abdullah is not the son of US secretary, rather he lived in a house that was rented by the latter. Sorry for the confusion!

[ozzgin]

I was 100% thinking of the Shinsengumi when the brainrot struck, but let us assume a more generic, unnamed circumstance for this. Random, uh, elite group of swordsmen working for the shogunate in the Edo period. Here's the awkward, horny himbo I had previously mentioned. Content: female reader, historical setting, crossdressing, NSFW

Yandere!Captain commands his group with an iron grip. Many people in the Capital know his name, whether it's fellow warriors or petty merchants, and not without reason. His unmatched skill with a sword had even reached the ears of the court, and he was quickly appointed as the head of a newly formed group of samurai meant to maintain order in the city.

As if keeping hot-blooded thugs under control wasn't enough, he is now stuck with an even bigger issue: you.

"We can't have women in here", he declares with a grimace.

"I can pretend", you counter stubbornly, pulling your hakama pants up by the sash, almost in an act of defiance. "In fact, I don't see any woman here. I came to apply."

Yandere!Captain’s reputation does not only revolve around his intimidating strength. Among his underlings, he is known for being completely and utterly uninterested when it comes to women. Will he join his group for drinks after a long day of work? Absolutely. But that’s where the fun stops. When the others begin to slip away with smiling courtesans, he remains at the table with a somber countenance. It is a running joke that nothing can deter this man from his duty.

Thus, your presence at the headquarters should make no difference. He had to begrudgingly accept that you spoke the truth when you'd said you can handle a sword. It's not uncommon for women to keep a small tanto underneath their obi for additional protection, but your knowledge doesn't stop there. You arrived with your own katana and backup wakizashi, swiftly proving their worth upon your first city round when you slashed the arm off a street hooligan.

Well, that's one less worry for the captain. Except, to his great shame, it's not as simple as that. He is the only one aware of your secret, which means that he is the only one available outside of working hours. He was terrified to discover the hesitation in his hands when bandaging your ribs after a stabbing incident, or the halt in his step when he happened to find you switching to a night gown. Oh, how deplorable! Have his morals crumbled into nothing? His latest perverted thought nearly caused him to draw a blade across his stomach.

It is with this faltering confidence that he greets you before the bath one evening.

“You don’t have to do this”, you tell him. "I can wait until you're done."

His struggles haven't escaped your observant eye. You were initially amused by his rather obvious awkwardness; then, a certain idea insidiously made its way into your mind, impossibly tempting: for how long could he keep this façade?

You find yourself going out of your way just to tease your poor captain, perhaps secretly hoping he'll soon break down and give in to his yearning.

“They will become suspicious if you never join us. I do not care for your nudity. Undress at ease”, he says, throwing away his own towel and lowering himself into the hot water. “Get in whenever you want.”

If he insists.

You nonchalantly follow suit, sitting across from him with your arms resting against the rocky edge of the hot spring. You can tell his eyes have wandered involuntarily. His face is red, and he’s wearing a humiliated frown.

“You’re awfully quiet, Sir.”

His lips are pursed indeed. The tall man shuffles briefly, avoiding your gaze. A smirk crosses your features as you decide to approach him.

"In fact, I'd go as far as you say that you're in dire need of help."

To your surprise, he doesn't protest when your hands stray to his lower half, feeling up and down his erection. The small grunts escaping his mouth encourage you to pick up the pace, now equally aroused.

Soon, you feel his heavy arm wrapping around your waist, forcefully throwing you out of the water and onto the cold ground. You open your mouth to complain, but it's quickly shut back by his hot lips, suckling and biting in a desperate hunger to have you.

“It’s improper for a subordinate to take the lead”, he finally says in a low, breaking voice.

He can only hope no one else decides to use the hot springs, though that’s as far as his concern currently goes. He’s much too preoccupied with other pressing matters, holding onto your folded legs for support as he thrusts into you in a depraved, delirious need. His movements are jerky and erratic, with an almost predatory glimmer in his eyes. You wonder how often he imagined this happening. All of his shame and guilt, coming undone at once.

Days later, during one of the hangouts, you find him whispering to one of the courtesans.

“What, you suddenly have a taste for women now?” you question discreetly, unable to hold your tongue.

You’d hoped to be on the receiving end of any future lust-driven gestures from the captain, not some common worker.

He appears to hesitate, twiddling his thumbs and glancing away.

“I was just…asking how you properly please a woman”, he finally confesses.

If he’s going to continue fucking his subordinate behind everyone’s back, he may as well do a good job while at it.

[More Original Works] | [Yan!Swordsman Concept]

[nap-thym3]

Sebastian Solace(Pressure) x Reader/Self-Insert 🌊

Part-One /Fluff/1,886 Words

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Synopsis: In which when I first played pressure I just stood and stared at Sebastian’s character model for a solid five minutes. So this was born. yayayaya

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Army crawling on your knees and elbows, your chest rattles with your wheezing breaths. Truth was, you’d never been an active person. The most legwork you’d gotten in a day was typically at work, and even then, that was minimal. Suffice to say, being thrust into this shitshow of a scenario where running from constant threats was the norm, the situation couldn’t be anymore dire.

You wave a hand about in front of yourself, fanning away the disrupted layers of dust that fluttered in the cramped ventilation shaft as your rasping coughs bounce off the walls and create a cacophony of god-awful racket. You mutter a slew of curses to yourself, clapping your palm over your nose and mouth in a pitiful attempt to stifle your coughing fit. It would be just your luck for a nearby eldritch-horror to overhear your pathetic, asthmatic-self in the vents and drag you out by the ankles. The thought alone brings an electrifying jolt of anxiety through your person, and if you had the space you’d be looking over your shoulder in paranoia. Alas, the best you could do was put your jittering nerves to use and crawl just that little bit faster. Honestly, it was an accomplishment in of itself that you managed to shimmy-shammy your adult self into such a claustrophobic passage in the first place. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve just marched straight past the most convenient and inviting looking vent in the world. Probably assuming it to be a blatant trap. Except, you did know better. Just a few feet ahead lay maybe the only place in the entire bowels of this hellscape where you felt you were well and truly safe.

Crawling out of the shaft like an NYC subway rat, you’re finally free to hack up your lungs in peace without fear of death by angler. At least, no death from this one in particular. Blindly you lean back to sit on your haunches, eyes straining to pick up any movement in the darkness.

“Oh. It’s you.” Your shoulder’s jump as a voice drawls from the far-side of the room. Soon after, a gentle glow begins to illuminate the occupied space.

Now with your gracious host offering you visibility, you blink your adjusting vision over to watch as Sebastian seemingly just wraps up whatever file he’d been perusing in the dark. Before you can even attempt to try and sneak a peek at whatever he’d been reading, said folder closes shut with a swift snap. The merchant then carefully tucks the item away into his inner-coat’s pocket. A shame, your snooping has been so swiftly shut down before it ever had a chance to begin- you pout at the missed opportunity. Sebastian catches your longing gaze fixated on his coat, and gives a condescending little pat to the area where you know the concealed document is to be hiding. Wordlessly daring you to even try. Cheeky fish.

“Not even a ‘Hello’ or ‘How are you’? I could’ve been dying in there!” You bemoan in a familiar way of greeting, gesticulating between yourselves wildly as you saunter forward. Sebastian, unphased by your usual eccentricities, drags an unimpressed eye over your much smaller form. Analyzing. Probably looking at your absolutely filthy diving suit- sweat-drenched and caked in dust, grime, and maybe even a little bit of blood as it was. At least you assumed so, if the distaste visibly evident in his features was anything to go by.

“I was hoping whoever it was would die a little more quickly.” Was his dry response, before turning his head in indifference; seeming to have found whatever it was he was looking for on your person.

You scoff, “I see chivalry really is dead.” You gripe without any real bite in your voice. Already beginning to survey the merchant’s wares. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him as he begins to preen over his nails, pretending to be checking for dirt. Or blood, you didn’t know the guy well enough to say for certain what he did in his free-time. Your attention travels upwards, from his large hands up to his round face. The light emanating from his angler’s bulb casts an almost ethereal glow to his features. Especially with the way his eyes gleam that cerulean blue that’s quickly becoming a favorite color of yours. In addition to these qualities, there’s a very light sprinkling of bioluminescent freckles smattered across his cheeks. Sort of reminiscent to that of stars. Idly your fingers twitch, the sudden urge to reach up and map them like constellations startlingly strong. All these qualities make Sebastian feel so surreal, so out of this world. In juxtaposition to all of that, you’re confident to say that if he had the means, he’d be snobbishly turning his nose up at you right about now. The mental image brings a small, secretive smile to your face.

Sebastian rolls his eyes- or at least, you get the impression that he does. His lack of distinctive pupils makes it hard to tell.

“Are you going to actually buy something today?” He snips, cocking out a hip. “Or are you just going to keep gawking at me?” The merchant sneers through grit teeth(or maybe that was just his face?).

Snapping out of your reverie, caught with your hand in the proverbial cookie-jar, blood rushes to your head as you grin sheepishly up at his accusatory glare.

“Sorry, you’re just…” you wave a hand up beside yourself, willing the right words to come to you. Sebastian, amused by your silent floundering, quirks a knowing eyebrow at you. As if saying ‘Go on?’ The soundless goading sends you into a mental spiral- what did that mean? What did he think you were going to say? God- you don’t want to accidentally offend him, but you also don’t want to sound like a complete idiot. You gulp, mouth opening and closing a few times as you attempt to formulate words that will appease him.

Seemingly tired of you embarrassing yourself, Sebastian moved to speak, assumedly in an act of mercy from this sad display. Quickly, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, before he could beat you to the punch.

“You’re just really pretty.” Mortified, you clap your hands over your mouth. Yup. Those are. Definitely words that you just said. To his face.

Muscles tensing, you brace for his reaction. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, disgust, maybe? Mocking laughter, most probably. Any and all situations your brain can conjure up are absolutely humiliating in equal measure. However, as one moment drags into two, and the silence has still yet to be breached, you cautiously look Sebastian’s way. The sight that greets you is a rare one. The infamous Z-13, Sebastian Solace, is left speechless.

The Merchant’s smug expression falters, a look of genuine astonishment crossing his face. The dim light cast by his lure does little to mask the way his stature curls inwards slightly. A slight too much, in your opinion. You can see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching- as though internally wrestling with a response. Just as you had been a moment prior. The knowledge that he was just as at a loss for words as you were eases the tension in your shoulders, if only by a hair. Miser so does love its company, after-all. There’s a brief pause, heavy and awkward, until he finally speaks, his voice softer than usual.

“Pretty?” he echoes, almost disbelievingly. He then swallows, visibly thrown off-kilter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called… At-At least- that is to say, not in a good long while.” The second half of his sentence is murmured, as if mostly said to himself. But you had overheard, and he looks as if to have noticed the way your brows pinch in a confusing whirlpool of emotions. Mostly sympathy, pity, among other emotions neither of you were too entirely ready to put out on the table. God forbid you two express emotional maturity and speak plainly like adults. Sebastian flexes his long tail, the serpentine appendage looking as if it were going to either pull or push you away. However, before it can make any progress in either endeavor, Sebastian, -noticeably uncomfortable- clears his throat.

“Silly little thing.” He croons, swooping down from his towering height to give you a patronizing pinch to the cheek with his clawed index and thumb. “You should be mindful of your tongue, hmmm?” As he speaks, his usual edge returns to his voice. Your head helplessly tilts side-to-side with the motion of his ‘affection’. Affronted, and a little whip-lashed with his quick recovery, you swat the offending hand away from your face.

“Jerk! I was trying to be nice!” Despite the biting words, you can’t help but feel relieved to be set back on familiar ground. Whatever emotional vulnerability present in the moment prior was slowly ebbing away, returning to your regularly scheduled squabbling. Sebastian chuckles, bodily retreating to his previous stature and re-clasping his hands before himself with an echoing ‘clap’. You rub at your reddened cheeks, whether their heat was due to Sebastian’s rough treatment or from an entirely other emotion, was only for you to know.

Sebastian continues on distractedly, seeming to have already recollected his composure. “Flattery will get you nowhere here, you know. But… thanks.” You think you see his eyes dart away for a brief moment, before locking onto yours again. A curl of his typical smirk splaying across his lips.

You gasp dramatically, a goofy smile erupting on your face. “The mighty Sebastian? Saying thanks?” You tease.

Sebastian waves a hand about in the air dismissively. “Yeah yeah, just don’t let it get to your head.” He says, crossing his arms defensively. He steamrolls on before you get anymore wise ideas to- eugh, compliment him. “Now hurry up and buy something already!” He snaps, motioning to the various goodies strapped to his person. Not having to be told thrice now, you hurry and make your selections. Eager to move on from everything and anything to do with word ‘cute’. Nothing major, just a few batteries for the road and a mobile hacker or two. Sebastian seems to approve of your choices, and if the price he demands of you seems a little cheaper than the usual- well. You certainly weren’t going to complain.

Getting everything tucked neatly away and ready to go, you begin to trek back towards the vent before being stopped once more by Sebastian.

“Oh! And Traveller?” He calls. With an answering hum, you look back to maybe your only friend down here. The merchant in question seems to look like he’s turning something over in his head, before continuing with a withering sigh.

“Try not to get yourself killed out there, alright? I’d hate to lose such a profitable costumer.” He sing-songs grimly. Despite the harsh words, you can’t help but notice a slight undertone of warm endearment. Feeling like a certified Sebastian-whisperer, you pride swells in your chest at being able to read between the lines. With a barely concealed snicker at his thinly-veiled concern, you toss a final farewell his way before retreating. All throughout the next dozen or so rooms, you journey forward with a skip in your step. Feeling invigorated with newfound determination knowing that a certain merchant was counting on your safe return.

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eeeughh I’m so rusty with writing. Like. It’s not even funny how long this took me for just a one-shot? Idk I might continue this, I just suck so bad at staying motivated for fanfics. Anywho, hope any fellow Sebastian enjoyers out there liked this, there’s not enough content out there of him👍 please make more content guys pls I’m starved for the fics puh-LEASEE

[yueebby]

all mine — gojo satoru

synopsis. It’s the exchange event and gojo doesn’t like how that kyoto boy is looking at you. 

contents.  fluff, jealous!gojo, minor male oc, loosely based on that one jujutsu scroll, satoru is really insufferable and problematic but in his defense he is lovesick

gojo satoru is seething. he knows that you’re good looking, but he doesn’t need the entire world to know that either. if it were up to him, your beauty would be for his eyes only. 

especially not that kyoto third year who has been eyeing you since your arrival.

it was sickening, really. and to add salt to the wound, you have been oblivious to it all. one moment, gojo has his arms draped around your shoulders, and in the blink of an eye, you were being whisked away by that third year.

“please don’t do what i think you're trying to do,” shoko’s unamused voice breaks his train of thought. her knowing gaze made gojo chuckle.

“who, me? why do you assume i’m plotting something?” gojo feigns innocence, hoping his friend couldn’t sense the vicious wave of cursed energy that was leaking out of him. 

shoko doesn’t bother telling him that his usual sky blue eyes were darker, clouded with annoyance or whatever angsty emotion he was dealing with. suguru snorts at his best friend’s silent torment.

“he’s kinda cute,” shoko places a hand on her hip while she observes you conversing with the brown haired third year from kyoto. he was probably a clan kid, judging by his traditional kimono design for a uniform. “you think [name]’s into him?” she eggs gojo on with a smirk on her lips. 

suguru bumps his shoulder against hers as a silent warning.

it takes a moment for satoru to process shoko’s conclusion, the realization evident on his face as his eyes slowly widened. 

“like hell she is.” satoru’s fist clench and he thinks that he will explode if you keep entertaining that stupid kyoto boy. why waste your time with a weakling, when satoru, who was much worthier of your attention was standing just a couple of meters away in the same courtyard? satoru glares at you from above his glasses, hoping you can feel just an ounce of the anger he feels. 

you don’t. 

he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside. in fact, he thinks you’re purposefully messing with his mind with the way you playfully smack the kyoto boy’s shoulder with the same soft hand that gojo has dreamed of holding since his first year. 

“stop being dramatic and let's warm up. we have team battles today.” annoyance is evident in suguru’s voice. yaga had warned the duo that if either of them acted up during the exchange event, the consequences would be dire.

“dramatic?” he scoffs, his glare not wavering. “she has the audacity to look beautiful in the presence of other men. she’s doing this on purpose.” his arms are crossed now.

exasperated looks are exchanged by his two friends.

screw whatever yaga said. without wasting another moment, satoru forced his way in your direction, ignoring suguru's attempt to stop him. shoko, however, held suguru back. "don't," she said, her eyes fixed on gojo. "i want to see what this idiot will do."

suguru sighed, acknowledging that gojo deserved whatever was coming his way.

you realize that perhaps you are too lenient with gojo satoru. you have forgiven every stunt he has pulled, but the look on his face right now as he approaches you with a wide grin makes you sense that might end now.

“wifey!” he closes the space between you. you furrow your eyebrows at the unfamiliar pet name. “how could you leave me for some kyoto scum?” 

you choke on air at his blatant insult to the boy in front of you. 

“ah, i apologize, i couldn’t help myself but steal her when i saw her. i’m ishikawa daisuke–”

“what a bold statement to say to her husband!” gojo doesn’t spare ishikawa a second glance, choosing to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. too shocked to move, you let gojo relish in the intimate action. 

you’re equally as surprised as ishikawa at satoru’s declaration, a strangled noise escaping from your mouth. the idea of gojo as your husband… it was enough to make your brain short circuit. where did he even get the idea from?

ishikawa’s eyes are blown wide, any semblance of self confidence thrown out of the window,  “i-i apologize for the misunderstanding. i wasn’t aware you were already married so young.” he stutters, bowing deeply to gojo who is smirking with a hand on his hip. 

“damn right we are. i knew i had to tie the knot with this beauty the moment i met her.” satoru proudly exclaims, his gaze softening when it returns on you. the initial shock is starting to wear off and you are shooting gojo your harshest glare. satoru’s antics seem to never end.

“isn’t my wifey the cutest?” he coos down at you, tapping your nose with a single finger. you are tempted to bite it off. 

“gojo satoru, you are the most insufferable man that i know,” you point at his chest angrily. “the most delusional too.” you mutter.

 he places a pained hand to his chest,  “you know other men? you’re killing me sweetheart.”

ishikawa coughs awkwardly, reminding you of his presence. you give him your best sympathetic look.

satoru, annoyed that your attention is off of him once again narrowed his eyes at the brown haired boy, “shouldn’t you be practicing with the rest of the kyoto weaklings? i recommend you to do so if you don’t want to be killed on the battlefield today.” satoru’s voice is an octave lower. 

“satoru!” you’re startled by his indirect threat, quick to defend your senior who looked like he was moments away from pissing his pants. 

“i-if you will excuse me.” ishikawa bows deeply once again before scurrying away without another word. you watch him hopelessly. the moment ishikawa is gone, satoru’s intimidating aura is replaced with a pout as he crosses his arms bitterly. 

“if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” satoru exhales forcefully with a hmph. his arms are still crossed and if it weren’t for the fact that he had acted utterly out of line, you would almost go as far as calling him cute. 

“excuse me?”

“you were trying to get my attention,” he points out. “you don’t have to y’know.” my eyes are always on you. the words die on his lips.

a scoff leaves your mouth, disbelief is evident on your face, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do!”

“are you jealous or something?” the idea that the great gojo satoru was sick with envy amused a cruel part inside of you.

“who? me? what could that country bumpkin have that i don’t?” he sounds almost offended at your accusation. 

“he’s nice.”

“i can be nice!" satoru whines. there is desperation in his eyes. "i bought a can of tuna for that stray cat the other week, remember?”

“yeah, but he’s nice to people. he’s also polite and-”

“alright i get it! you don’t have to keep talking about him.” satoru's eyebrows furrow in sync with the way his bottom lip slightly juts out. “i just didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“and how did he look at me?” 

satoru grumbles. was it not obvious enough? “his gaze was devouring you like you were his or something. honestly, what a loser. he’ll have to get in line.”

frustration laces your words as you challenge him, “you can’t just march around scaring off all of the guys that i talk to. i want you to admit that you were jealous."

satoru's jaw drops.

"you can't be serious." he protests, cerulean eyes widening. "i'm starting to think you like torturing me." you smile at his comment. you were indeed doing this on purpose.

"oh but i am completely serious," you reply with faux innocence, eyes blinking at him. “satoru.” you enunciate each syllable of his name, dealing the finishing blow.

he folds. you were being so unfair.

"i was jealous." he confesses petulantly. your grin widens as he admits his jealousy. the victory, however, is short-lived as satoru seizes the opportunity to sneak in another flirty comment. “it’s not my fault my dream girl happens to be everyone else’s.”

a groan escapes your lips, and you take your hand, lightly flicking his forehead. satoru accepts the physical contact happily.

"when will you give this bit up?" you retort, raising an eyebrow. 

“when i finally put a ring on that finger,” satoru winks. you regard his words with skepticism, oblivious to the fact that he was dead set on it.  gojo satoru was going to make you his, or at least die trying.

remember spring days masterlist

extra notes:

prior to the exchange event, utahime actually warned ishikawa that you were off limits. she didn’t elaborate why.

poor ishikawa seemed to be the target of most of satoru’s attacks during the team battle.

tokyo won the event by an overwhelming amount.

“i deserve victory kisses for carrying tokyo to victory, right [name]?” satoru had teased you on the way home.

you pretend to think about it, “hmm i think suguru’s curses were quite helpful. he’s the one that deserves the kisses.”

satoru had never moved faster in his entire life to cover your mouth with the palm of his hand and whisk you away from his best friend who had joined in your joke.

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 3

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

The Joker came closer, almost inspecting the job (Y/N) had done. His eyes run over the Bat.

"Good job with the knots, my little Jester. That will keep him there for as long as we want!" The Joker exclaimed with a large grin. "Now, how did you get him here so fast! I must know!"

"I can't tell you, Dad! It would ruin the game. And we love the game!" (Y/N) explained. (Y/N) went up to the Joker and side hugged him. Bruce saw this and started struggling.

"What have you done to them! They said you 'Trained' them! I know you! Tell me now!" Bruce screamed.

The Joker's smile widened as he saw the Bat struggle. "Peanut, would you be so kind and get your dad something to drink? I am absolutely parched." The Joker said with honeyed words.

"Of course, dad!" (Y/N) said, jumping at the opportunity to please their dad. They ran out of the room hoping to get a drink as fast as possible.

"Look at them. I'm so proud of their growth. You know they were so sad when I first met them. They were only 5. They were looking for someone to talk to. Can you believe it, Bruce Wayne, ignoring one of his own while still taking in new kids. Can you imagine how that felt?!" Joker laughed unknowingly rubbing salt in Bruce's wounds.

"It was perfect, you know. Them being in such dire need of affection and not caring who it came from! A perfect opportunity for me to step in and take them away! At first, they resisted. Fought so hard not to succumb! They even called out for you. Did you know that!?" Joker confessed, stunning Bruce. Even after all he did, you still called out to him? You called for your dad, your real dad.

"It took a while to get them like this. Lots of training. Brutal, really. Though nothing I haven't done to you and your birds, just in a shorter period of time." Joker stated as if he was talking about weather and not torture. This shocked Bruce, remembering all the things the Joker did to his family. "How are they alive?!" Batman questioned.

"That's the funny thing, Bat! No matter what I did to them, they wouldn't die! They would get injured, but only a few seconds would pass, and then it would completely heal! I even cut off an arm, and as you can see, they have both now! Amazing, isn't it!" The Joker exclaimed. This stunned Bruce. (M/N)'s child was Meta? No. He would have noticed.

"Now, what is taking that child so long?" The Joker said brazenly.

With (Y/N)...

(Y/N) scrambled around looking for a bottle of water when someone came up behind them. They were suddenly grabbed and restrained. "The fuck!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "Relax it's just me. I'm here to save you." Jason whispered assuming (Y/N) would stop fighting when they heard it was him. (Y/N) struggled to move surprising Jason giving them a little wiggle room. (Y/N) jabbed their elbow into Jason's stomach pushing him back into a coughing fit.

With Jason off them, they turned around. "You aren't supposed to be here, Hood." (Y/N) stated glaring. They move their hands to their hip and pull out a small stick. They hit a button, and it enlarges to become a marotte.

(Y/N) swings at Jason as he tries to dodge, not wanting to hurt his sibling. This goes on until something pierces (Y/N) in the back of their nape. They start slowing down until they pass out.

"Took you long enough." Jason said flatly, going over to (Y/N). "They were putting up more of a fight than we all thought. I needed to get a clean shot." Damian claimed. He was lying to himself. He just wanted to assess how his older sibling fought, and from what he could tell, if they were taking this fight seriously, it wouldn't have ended well. "Let's just get them out of here. The others are waiting." Jason said, knowing that when he got to the manor, he would finally get to be the sibling they needed.

Giddy, he picked them up as if they were the most precious thing in the world and started leaving. "I'll go help dad." Damian said flatly as it seemed like a chore.

With Batman...

"Why? Why would you do those horrible things to a child?!" Bruce questioned. "For fun." The Joker spoke with a wolfish smile.

The door crept open, catching Bruce's eye. He saw his youngest creeping in the room. "You know I believe this is one of the only instances in which I would be willing to kill you." Bruce said, letting Damian he had permission to try and kill the Joker. "Really! I pushed you to that level with this one joke!? How wonderful! I will have to keep this in mind for later! Now, if only that bra -" a sudden gunshot stopped the Joker from finishing his sentence.

Blood rushed from the left side of Joker's face as he fell to the ground dead. "Where is your sibling?!" Bruce questioned with urgency. "They are on their way home with Hood. If we leave right now, we should be able to get there at the same time." Damian informed Bruce. "Good now untie me so we can leave. Your siblings got a mean knot." Bruce commanded.

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

@cooki3dough @asillysimp @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @redkarmakai @horror-lover-69 @bat1212 @wisefuncherryblossom

[wordsmithic]

unpopular opinion but with the new tide of Greek mythology stories and retellings, Greek Cultural Sensitivity Readings are absolutely necessary. We are in 2024, with thousands of fics and retellings out there!! How is this not a thing yet?? There's vast improvement one can achieve by working professionally on their text with a Greek. I've seen it so many times!!

Also, duh, I'm offering the service BUT I want you to know that the situation with the inaccuracies of SERIOUS works is so dire that initially I didn't even do it for money. As a writer I just wanted to... fix things, to set a new standard for writers and the industry that sells us the most heavily Americanized pop-culture material and passes it as "authentic vibes of Greek mythology". (And of course there were writers who wanted to do right by their story and they had reached out to me. So kudos to them as well!)

Okay, but why does Cultural Sensitivity Reading make a vast difference and it's not just smoke and mirrors?

As a Greek, I am tired of well-meaning writers and authors butchering very basic elements of my culture. It's not their fault exactly, since they were raised in another culture with a different perspective. And nobody clued them in on how different Greek culture is from theirs, so writers sometimes assume that their culture is the default and they project that into ancient Greece. (Even published professionals like Madeline Miller have written "UK or US in antiquity" (with a very colonialist flavor) instead of writing "Ancient Greece". (Looking at you, Circe!)

Even writers who researched a lot before coming to me still had a lot of misinformation or wrong information in their text, easily verifiable by the average Greek. Again, not their fault. They can only access certain information, which does not include Greek scholarly work and scientific articles that DO offer valuable context.

Translation, accuracy, and meaning: If you ever wondered what a word means or how to pronounce it, here's your chance! There are Greeks like me who are knowledgeable and have a keen interest in antiquity and they will be able to read and compare ancient texts, and dive deeper into the work of Greek scholars regarding those texts.

If you want to create new words, you can do that as well! (It doesn't always work, but we can try. Greek is a really rich language and has a word about everything) If you use existing words, I can help you separate reality from fantasy in the context of your story.

(Do not assume we Greeks are ignorant of our heritage, or that we don't know how to research! Our archaeology sector is huge and archaeological museums are closer to most of us than your local Target is to you)

I guarantee there are things you never thought about Greece and the Mediterranean - from the ancient to the modern era. Sprinkling elements like phrases, types of interactions, customs, songs, instruments, dances, etc , into your text will make your text absolutely rich in culture.

Names matter!!! The genders of the names matter, diminutives matter (If I see one more "Perse" for Persephone I will claw my eyes out along with a few thousand Greeks), naming traditions matter!!! In many cases you should not even use a diminutive!!

You will be able to write about a foreign culture easily! Because of the continuity of Greek culture, you can even write a few more recent Greek elements to fill in the gaps. I can make sure they are not mismatched, and they will complement your ancient setting. I have observed a few things I didn't know we had since antiquity, but they make sense because our land has certain characteristics.

Non-Greek writers often miss the whole context of Greek culture! Do you know how Greek respect towards deities and parents looks like? What tones we use when we talk to our elders? When to use honorific plural - if your setting is more modernized?

Oh, and please let's avoid caricatures when describing Greeks?? (even fantasy Greeks) There can be heavy exotisation and odd descriptions of Greeks, as if we are another species. Even in published works. For many western writers it's difficult to catch, unfortunately.

The whole process is actually way easier than you think. You send me a text, I make notes and then we have some discussion on your vision.

It's always okay to seek guidance from the locals! You are not "guilty" when you admit you don't know! How can you know if you don't ask?? You can't imagine what relief and "πάλι καλά!!!" I read/see from other Greeks when I tell them another foreigner is using me for cultural sensitivity? Greeks want you to seek help and will NOT shame you for it!

(On the contrary, you have no idea how many eye-rolls Greeks do when they see a blatantly wrong thing in a story... Which has happened pretty often for many years now. Can we do better as an industry?? Please???)

You can send me a personal message to share your story, or ask what this whole cultural sensitivity thing is all about, or ask about what I have done so far and how I can help. But for the love of all that's good, don't let your story be another "generic greek myth retelling"! And don't let others sell you their generic greek myth retellings!!

[sierrale8ne]

paige bueckers x black!fwb!oc next part here

nsfw // 4.3k words, dom!paige, sub!oc, use of marijuana, tongue play, oral/face sitting, fingering, overstimulation, tribbing, use of vibrator, choking, slight degradation, dirty talk, fingering, filth tbh.

venus 🍒 3 attachments: 3 videos

venus 🍒 heard ur back in ct and i fucking miss you so come see me? we can do some more of this…

pherbo I’m omw pretty lady, I missed you too

By any and all means, Venus and Paige were not dating.

They never hung out outside of their hookups and most certainly didn’t text about anything other than free time, sex, boundaries, sex, weed, parties, and how could I forget: sex.

Or at least it started that way.

They had met through one Paige’s many teammates, during one of the many late nights where Venus fell victim to her side hustle and was supplying randoms on campus with some wonderful weed.

Paige wasn’t what one would call a smoker, but she dabbled in it from time to time (sure she was an athlete but she was also a college student); and one faithful night, when she found herself in dire need of a high she sent the girl a text. Except rather than only getting weed, she received what was probably the best head of her life. An orgasm so powerful she probably blacked out for a few seconds. It started a very deep and consistent sneaky link relationship. They both used one another for sex, and very shamelessly at that.

Venus sat at the barstools in her apartment after arriving back home from running some errands, her tattooed hand rolling a nearly perfect blunt. The humidity of the Connecticut heat causing her to only wear a thin, white, cropped tank top and some True Religion shorts. She didn’t think much of the videos she sent to Paige, she had been a tease the entire time the blonde was away, this was not her first time filling her messages with vulgar texts.

But Paige? She definitely cared.

The sight of the girl she so desperately craved with her legs spread in the drivers seat of her car. The 95° heat covering her body in a sheen of sweat as she trailed her hand underneath her shorts. Paige could assume that Venus was soaked, as the wet spot in her jeans practically gave her away. She was saying something nasty into the air, the microphone picking it up, but Paige’s eyes were simply glued to the screen. The second video, where her shorts had now been discarded and her pink cotton panties were pulled to the side; fingers lolling in and out of her dripping pussy. It nearly made Paige’s heart beat out of her chest.

And the last video was probably Paige’s personal favorite. It was a shortened clip from the last time they were together, nearly a month ago. Venus on all fours, tits bouncing, back arched, and her legs spread so wide as she got absolutely recked by the blonde and her strap. The video turned her on so bad she had to watch it again when she got in her car. She simply couldn’t get the image of her ass out of her head. To hear Venus moan out “Paige” along with repeated curses made her body heat up tremendously. Her girl, crying out her name, in their sex tape. It was unreal.

Paige was in walking into Geno’s office with Aubrey and Jana when the texts came in, it was a very close call and a blessing that they didn’t get a glimpse of the vulgar videos on her phone, and that she sported an air-pod in her ear.

After three long hours and practice had ended, Paige sped the entire journey to Venus’s home, rushing up her stairs before barging into the apartment. She kicked off her Nike slides with ease, before navigating the apartment she’d known very well and finding Venus seated in her kitchen.

“Did you lock my doo—”

“Shut up.” Paige cut her off, spinning the girl around in the stool she sat in and pressing her lips to Venus’s. Her lips tasting like strawberries and the slight smell of weed wafted to her nose as well. Venus’s tongue was soft, warm, and so wet. The girl practically salivating over Paige and the feeling of her soft lips.

Venus groaned against the blonde’s lips, snaking her hand to hold the girls slim waist while Paige’s wrapped around her neck squeezing it with her large hand. The feeling of their tongues clashing forcing a similar groan to come from Paige. The athlete pulled away, nearly whimpering at the sight of Venus and her swollen lips. The girl stuck her tongue out hungrily, Paige meeting it with her own, before sucking the muscle in her mouth. The scene so nasty and pornographic it had both of them falling apart into a puddle, arousal sticking to the insides of their thighs. Saliva had spread to outermost corners of their lips.

“You’re so fuckin’ fine. What the fuck?” Paige laughed, finally breaking their vulgar exchange and moving her hand from Venus’s neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever looked in a mirror.” Venus commented, turning her chair back around so she no longer felt so little under Paige’s gaze. She reached for the blunt she rolled bringing it to her mouth and lighting it. She took a few puffs, the feeling of the substance in her lungs relaxing her body almost instantly.

Paige took it from Venus’s lips, placing it between her own. “I gotta take a shower, V. We can finish this in a minute, aight, baby?” Handing the girl her blunt back.

“Do you have to?”

“Venus that’s nasty. I’m all yours when I get out.”

“Fine.” Was all she responded with, practically huffing as she shooed Paige off to her bedroom to get clean. Though she really didn’t care. Venus was so hungry for her she would’ve taken her right there in her kitchen, sweat and all.

She stayed put in her seat, her growing high making her needier and needier. Paige on the other hand, post shower, was getting dressed in the spare clothes she had left the last time she had paid Venus a visit;boxers and a grey hoodie, before mindlessly snooping around.

She had gotten a better look at all the framed photos that decorated her dresser, jaw slightly dropping when she saw the framed photo of Venus and herself clad in signature UConn navy cap and gowns. Paige in a white button up and dress pants, and Venus in a flowy white dress with white strap up heels. The pair matched in smiles as they stood by one another.

Paige had known that their original fuck buddy agreement had completely changed over the last nine months. Overtime, their scheduled hookups led to sleepovers, and weekend trips. They were no longer just hooking up, a different level of intimacy that had been achieved. It was scary, that all it took was a little lotta bit of sex, for Paige to fall harder for Venus, but she had her in a way that no one else did. She would be grateful for what she had.

The blonde girl kept snooping, before seeing the red vibrating toy that she didn’t know the girl owned, innocently sitting on Venus’s bedside table. She smirked, calling out for her and asking her to come to the bedroom before taking a seat on the edge of the bed; vibrator in hand behind her back.

Venus sauntered into her bedroom, looking as delicious as ever. The girl’s slightly toned abs on full display, and highlighted even more by the sweat that adorned them. A blunt between her clear polished fingers and her lashes falling heavy on her red eyes.

Paige didn’t have a kink for body mods per se, but she definitely was wildly attracted to the ones that adorned Venus’s body. The full tattoo sleeve on her right arm along with the piercing at her navel was one thing, and the dermal’s on her back drove her insane whenever she had Venus in doggy. But the blonde’s absolute favorite? The snake bites on her tongue. The feeling of the cool metal running across her neck, abs, and pussy was almost otherworldly. Paige fell speechless whenever she thought about it.

“Got some new jewelry, you like?” Venus asked, gesturing to her stomach. The silver butterfly jewelry decorated with three smaller diamonds, the way it dangled was mesmerizing.

“Always.” Paige responded. The girl’s voice was low, she was lusting over her like an animal. “I saw our picture on your dresser.”

The blunt made its way back between Venus’s lips. She smiled, picking up on the small blush that coated the girl’s ivory cheeks. “We look cute right?”

“We look like a couple.”

“That’s what my mom said when she saw it. Remind me to introduce you two.”

Paige was slightly taken aback, but she had to keep her composure. “You want me to meet your mom?”

“I mean, she’s met all my friends. I should probably introduce her to the one I’m around damn near everyday, right?” Venus shrugged, fumbling over her words as she searched her brain for some sort of reasoning. “Unless that’s too personal for us—”

“It’s not. I don’t mind.” Paige cut her off, nervously biting her lip.

The pair smiled awkwardly at one another, more matching grins adorned their features. Paige called her closer with her pointer finger, bottom lip still tucked between her teeth before clearing her throat.

“Um, I saw something else in here too.” She spoke, not giving Venus a time to respond before pulling the toy from behind her back. This is what she was here for anyways, sex. Not the flirting and nervousness that came with having feelings for her. “What you using this for? You know I’m a call away.”

Venus tried to hide the heat that came to her face, embarrassed that Paige had her favorite intimate toy between her hands. Though embarrassed, Venus’s current intoxication masked it well.

“I— well you were on the cruise, and—”

“Show me.” Paige spoke, slapping the toy into Venus’s palm and taking the blunt between her own fingers, taking a drag with a smirk. Even being underneath her at that moment, Paige still held so much dominance over the tattooed girl. She knew that, and always took advantage.

“Show you?”

“Uh huh. Show me how you fucked yourself when I was gone, V.”

Venus was under a spell. She did whatever Paige asked almost immediately. So she brought her hands to the hem of her tank top, letting the material drop between them. Her full tits made Paige’s mouth water, nipples hardened by the blonde’s strong gaze. Her shorts followed, shimmying them down her thighs. Left in her panties, Venus opened her legs slightly, showing off the wet patch between them before taking them off and letting them join the rest of her clothes.

Finally lying in bed on her back, Venus spread her legs to reveal her sopping wet cunt. Her clit swollen and covered in arousal. She turned on the vibrator, it was only on the lowest setting, but the feeling of it up against her clit made her let out a whine.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and look at how wet you are.” Paige cooed. “Missed me so bad you had to use this? I bet it didn’t even get you off like I do. Did it?”

“Mm, oh fuck. No, Paige—”

The nature of Paige’s words was something that made her feel even more pleasured. “I know it didn’t, baby. Turn it up a li’l more.” The athlete demanded, shifting her position to finally pull the black boxers off her hips and the hoodie off her body, leaving her in just a sports bra.

Venus followed her directions, turning it up a few more notches. “P-please, Paige, please.”

“What do you want, ma?”

“I-I wanna—fuck—taste you. I wanna taste you, P.” The girls voice was shakey. The vibrations on this low of a setting did nothing to soothe her desires, she needed something more.

“Yeah? Want me to let you eat my pussy? Cum all down your throat, right? That’s what you want? Want me to sit on your face, ride that pretty tongue you got?” Paige teased, straddling her waist.

Venus’s hips bucked against the vibrator, lip tucked between her teeth as she looked up at Paige. The athlete began slowly grinding her hips down against Venus’s abdomen, the snag of her clit against her piercing made her jolt.

“Answer me, V.”

“Shit, Yes! Please! I want you, want you on my tongue so bad, P.” Venus whined, desperate for any extra touch, any excuse to soothe her growing oral fixation.

Paige reached behind her, pulling the vibrator off Venus’s clit and tossing it nearby. She scooted her body up Venus’s torso before hovering her pussy over the girls face. Her eyes shifted growing darker.

Paige took the blunt from the nearby ashtray, grabbing the lighter as well and re-lighting it, sticking the substance between her lips and taking a few puffs. She was teasing. Slowly rotating her hips over Venus’s face as if to mock her.

“Stop fuckin’ moving.” Venus attempted to demand but it came out as a whimper.

Paige didn’t listen. Slowing her movement to brush her clit against Venus lip, a dramatized moan living her lips. Finally tired of the antics, Venus reached for the girl’s waist, pulling her flush to her face and attaching her cunt to her lips.

She was soaked. Her arousal effortlessly dripping onto Venus’s tongue and down her chin as the girl ate her out like a last meal. Paige’s moans coming out low and deep at the feeling of the cool metal on her tongue running through her pussy.

“Aww yeah, baby. Just like that. You’re doin’ so good.” Paige praised, her head slightly tipping back as she moved her hips faster.

Venus on the other hand had her thighs spread as she brought a hand between them. Paige’s groans and taste spurred her on more, she applied more pressure on her clit before slipping two fingers inside.

“You’re such a fuckin’ slut. I taste good?” Paige sunk a hand into Venus’s hair, wrapping it around her hand before lifting up so she could speak.

“Yea— m’ my God you taste so good.”

“Stick your tongue out, for me.” She asked, and Venus did so, allowing Paige to grind her clit on Venus’s piercing. She was growing breathless and Venus groaning against her didn’t help. “This what you wanted? Wanted me to put my pussy in your mouth, right?”

Venus reluctantly removed her fingers from inside of herself, dedicating her attention to making Paige cum. Her high spurring her on further, she was so desperate for the girl to cum on her tongue she would do whatever. Her fingers, coated in her own slick slipped inside the blonde’s pussy as she sucked on her clit. Swirling her tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Imma cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum, V.” Paige whimpered, gripping the girls hair harder and tugging her closer.

Curling her fingers to hit that spot, Venus nearly melted away when Paige finally came on her tongue, broken moans and praises falling from the blonde’s lips went straight to her pussy. She was dripping onto her sheets. She didn’t stop pumping her fingers nor did she stop moving her tongue, still eating the girl out just a bit slower now.

When Paige had finished riding out her orgasm, she broke free of Venus’s grasp, reclaiming her spot straddling her waist. The blunt they were sharing was long forgotten, now tossed somewhere on the bed. Paige knew Venus would be pissed, so she just decided to make her forget.

She leaned over, tongue out as she licked her own cum off of Venus’s chin. Humming at her own taste and following that by connecting their lips.

The sloppy exchange seemed to be full of nothing but spit swapping. Maybe being high made them even nastier in this moment, but truth was they were also just feins for one another.

Pulling away sloppily, Paige doted soft kisses onto Venus’s jaw, before rising in vigor when she reached her neck. She sucked dark purple marks across the girl’s brown skin. Occasionally meeting the skin with a bite. Paige smirked, a dark chuckle leaving her lips. “M’gonna fuck the shit outta you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Show you why it’s just me. You don’t need that fuckin’ vibrator, you don’t need some other girl when you got me.”

Venus wasn’t clueless to Paige’s obvious possessiveness when it came to her and their arrangement. She wasn’t necessarily opposed to it. It was nice to have someone be protective over her in this way, she wouldn’t mention it though.

“It’s only you, P. You know that.” Venus panted.

Paige shot up, straddling Venus’s right thigh and letting the left rest on her broad shoulder. She rolled her hips forward, meeting the girl’s sloppy cunt with her own. She was so damn wet, arousal instantly dripping to her thighs.

“We’re never going this long without sex again.” Paige groaned, feverishly rutting her hips. The friction was a beautiful feeling, Paige had wondered why they didn’t have sex like this more often. The intimacy of being pressed against each other in such a manner was addictive, she wanted it all the time.

Venus was so sensitive that the touch had her legs shaking and stomach convulsing. She sat up on her elbows getting a better look at the mess between her legs. Her cunt glistening, the noise of their clits against each other bouncing off the walls.

Before getting to know the girl more personally, Venus never understood the overwhelming campus obsession with the blonde basketball player— from both guys and girls. But after a few conversations, which all shamelessly led to sex, she got it. Paige was a charmer. She knew just what to say and just what to do to have Venus falling for her apart for her.

“Such a pretty girl.” Paige mumbled, pulling her eyes off of where they connected and up to Venus’s flushed face.

Venus reached up to Paige’s covered chest, muttering slurries of, “take it off” until the blonde slowed her hips and pulled off her sports bra. Venus was happily met with the sight of the girl’s supple breasts, hardened pink nipples instantly being tugged on by Venus’s fingertips. “Go faster, fuck me faster. Please.” She whimpered, locking eyes with Paige’s blue ones.

“Fuck, V.” The blonde groaned, pushing Venus’s leg further back as she ground her hips faster. The stimulation at her nipples more than enough to make her let out another loud moan. “There ya go, chase it, baby. You got it, Venus.”

Her name fell from Paige’s lips so smoothly. She listened without a second thought, bucking her hips against Paige’s clit some more. The action of her leg being pressed against her stomach adding a different type of pressure there. Eyes rolling and moans free falling. Paige hadn’t heard her being this loud in quite some time, nearly screaming when Paige added more pressure in her movement.

She was hellbent on getting Venus to cum. She would work for hours if that’s what it took. Her head leaning back, letting more moans fall directly into the smoke clouded air. Paige’s hand grabbed hold of her neck, pushing her further into the mattress until Venus was whimpering at the sensation and they were both soaking one another and the sheets. “I’m not playin’. Keep—fuck—keep moving or I swear I’ll stop.”

“I can’t.”

“Yeah you can, ma. Just fuck me back.” Paige’s words were blending together, her dominance as present as ever, but it was still clear she was just as close as Venus was. “My dirty girl, you like it when I fuck you like this?.”

Venus’s tattooed hand reached to grip at her grey bedsheets as the other trailed to Paige’s slim waist. Her fingers gripping and guiding her a little too tight that bruises would definitely form in a few hours. “I love— I love it. So good, Paige.” She fought to keep her eyes open and maintain eye contact with the woman above her, but it was hard with her orgasm approaching.

Nothing could stop the whines and whimpers that left her mouth as Paige sloppily continued fucking her, the blonde’s orgasm nearing as well.

“I’m gonna cum, P. Don’t fuckin’ stop!”

“Cum all over me, mama. Want it so bad, wanna feel you cum. Please, give it to me.” The blonde panted, sweat dripping down the bridge of her nose. “Ah shit, V, please.”

Their bodies nearly shattered as their orgasms rushed through them like a wave. Paige’s nails dug into Venus’s thigh as she stilled. The marijuana lacing their veins made it ten times more powerful, Venus’s eyes rolling back as she covered Paige’s cunt in her cum. “Oh my God…” Paige gasped, bringing a hand down between their legs and running her hand through Venus’s folds and collecting the mixture of their cum on her fingers.

“You’re so nasty—”

She was cut off by the blonde’s lengthy fingers slipping into her mouth, catching her by surprise but she welcomed them eagerly. Venus’s tongue swirling around as their creamy arousal coated her tongue. Paige’s other hand dipping between her legs again and prodding at her hole before sliding in.

“Can I keep fucking you, baby? Please?” Paige rambled, voice hoarse from her post orgasm state. Her fingers drove into Venus with ease, toned arm flexing constantly had the girl in a daze.

Venus pulled Paige’s fingers from her mouth allowing her to finally moan out the way she wanted to. She was such a slut under Paige’s blue eyed gaze. “Oh my God!” She cried, the overwhelming feeling making her jaw fall slack. “Paige!”

“I wanna see your pretty face when you do it again, give me one more, ma.”

Paige’s fingers jabbed into that gummy spot again and again until Venus was gushing all over the sheets, letting out soft moans and whining chants of “ah, ah, ah!”

“Shh, just listen to how much you’re cumin’ for me.” Paige said, her hand, once in Venus’s mouth, now clamping over it and keeping it closed. “Wetting your bed up like the slut you are. You’re mine though aren’t you, baby?”

Screaming out into Paige’s hand, Venus came again, tears staining her cheeks and cum staining her thighs as she nodded at Paige’s words. Her cum spilling around Paige’s fingers, the white ring around those knuckles made Paige’s eyes turn to hearts. Paige was right: her vibrator couldn’t come close to giving her the orgasms she just did. Her breathing erratic and eyes fluttering shut as her legs trembled.

“P-Paige, it’s— s’too— fuck! Stop! Too much.” Venus whimpered, eagerly clawing on the blonde’s strong bicep with one hand, and attempting to push her fingers out with the other. But Paige kept going, slowing down her fingers just a bit but still applying crazy pressure to Venus’s clit.

“You’re mine. You hear me? This pussy is mine. Nobody gonna ever make you feel the way I do.”

“I’m yours, P! I promise— holy shit i’m gonna cum.” Venus cried, her stomach convulsing and eyes squeezing shut. “Paige, please. I can’t.”

“Look at me.” The blonde asked, spreading the girl’s legs wider and Venus came one more time, jaw slack as she had no more moans to give. Her legs shut almost immediately and Paige smirked at the girl underneath her. She had effectively proven her point all while making the girl of her dreams drift off to cloud nine.

Reluctantly, Paige pulled out her fingers before feeding them into her mouth and sucking them clean. The sight forcing multiple groans from Venus under her.

Tears staining cheeks. face all flushed out and bloodshot eyes now even more red (if possible). Paige looked down at Venus in admiration, she was the only one to ever get her to cum like that: and she took great pride in it.

“I want a kiss.” Venus voice now gone from all her screaming. She spoke softly, not really knowing how else to subtly ask her partner for a kiss, so she opted for being very direct.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” Paige apologized, wiping the remaining tears from Venus’s cheeks. “Can you say please?”

Rolling her eyes, Venus smiled. A short “please” escaping her mouth. Paige happily leaned into her, removing her legs from in between Venus’s and hovering over her. The blonde placed a soft kiss to her lips, their tongues almost instantly meshing together. Venus moaned at her taste on Paige’s lips, sloppily kissing her back in an attempt to catch her breath as her legs hooked around the athlete’s waist.

“Aww, you like how you taste?” The blonde chuckled.

“Shut up. Freak.” Venus was too fucked out and definitely too high to keep up. She pulled away and nestled her head into Paige’s neck, wrapping her arms around the girl and lazily flipping them over to straddle her. “I’m yours, huh? Sounds awfully relationship like to me.”

“Are you complaining?”

“I-I don’t know.” Venus admitted, “I like it when you’re possessive, even though you pretend you’re not. You’re obsessed with me.”

Paige adjusted her head to look up at Venus rather than her body, her eyebrows furrowed. All the words she wanted to say: I want to be with you, I need you, I love you, all suddenly getting stuck in the back of her throat. “Maybe I am.” She decided to respond with. “Crazy ‘bout you, I can’t lie.”

Venus hummed, slightly nodding her head as she looked at her, unable her growing blush. “I might be crazy ‘bout you too, P.” Her fingers traced over the hickies she’d left across the ivory skin. “We made such a mess.” Venus laughed, briefly changing the topic.

“We can clean it up later. I wanna cuddle.”

“Paige—”

“No.”

“—This bed is filthy, and I need to shower, and we said no more sleepovers.”

“Just ten minutes, Venus.” Paige wined, pulling Venus to lay down next to her, her blue eyes drinking in all of Venus’s glory— somehow finding her even more gorgeous in her fucked out state. “I’ll be outta your hair after, I promise.”

“Five minutes. That’s it.”

“I’ll take it.” Paige mumbled, draping her arms around Venus warm body and shutting her eyes as she rested her head on Venus’s shoulder.

It was not only five minutes and Paige definitely did sleep over again.

authors note this is my first time posting on tumblr, so hopefully you guys enjoy it. i’m thinking of making this a short series maybe 3-4 parts (mostly all smut, freaks) i have a part two in my drafts, so lmk if you want some more of pherbo and venus! (i imagine venus’s fc to be @/killmarni iykyk she’s so bad 😮‍💨)

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Charles leclerc x reader, your his assistant that He has been pinning over forever and drops hints and like a lovesick puppy to you but your oblivious and innocent to it? Know you can do this rlly good lovely — F1driverszona 🤍

i love f1driverszona so much!! hi bae this is for you :)

comments and replies are always appreciated!!

When you accepted the job, you knew the challenges you'd face wouldn't be easy. However, you never anticipated your boss being one of those challenges. Charles was never a difficult person; he was always easygoing and well-spoken. He only became difficult when he had his eyes set on a specific target—or in this case, a specific person. His last assistant had left for another job, leaving Charles with a significant position to fill. Interviewing hundreds of people day in and day out was exhausting, and he was honestly on the verge of promoting any random intern. But then, you walked in—hair flying, papers everywhere; in short, you looked like a hot mess. Yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Your looks weren’t the only thing that impressed Charles. Your CV was more than impressive, showcasing all the hard work you'd done. The sudden decision to hire you had tilted your world upside down. You went from living in a small apartment in a rather miserable neighborhood to residing in the country’s best penthouse. From day one, it was clear that your boss had a soft spot for you. You often got away with things others didn’t, like showing up to work late, leaving early, and skipping those horrible meetings. You were given all the liberties in the world, yet you never took advantage of them. This habit of yours often left Charles scratching his head, wondering why you never took advantage of his kindness and leniency.

Charles knew he'd had his eye on you since day one. Each day you walked into his office made him smile wider. Everyone around you both knew how captivated Charles was by you, yet you remained oblivious. It was hard to ignore the feelings you had for Charles, but for the sake of professionalism, you often suppressed them. It was challenging, especially considering how kind and handsome he was. His smile had you weak, and the veins in his arms, especially when he flexed, had you wondering how his hand would look wrapped around your neck—anyway. Charles always kept you on your toes with how he handled you. His hand would always find its way comfortably to the small of your back, or he'd always be hands-on, even for the smallest tasks.

One specific incident genuinely made you wonder if your boss had feelings for you. Charles never bothered you after work hours, as he was a gentleman. So when you picked up his call one evening and heard the blaring music from a club, you knew something was up. Before he spoke, you heard a very drunk Lando yelling, “Look at you, Charlie! Can’t even stay away from her for more than a couple of hours!” His reply would have made you swoon if only you understood French: “Mon bébé, je jure que je ferai de toi ma femme un jour, mon amour. J'aimerais pouvoir dire ça sobrement.” When you asked him the next day what he'd said, he simply brushed it off, saying he’d tell you when the time was right.

You had made the mistake of talking about Charles to your overly enthusiastic best friend, Eli. You'd always felt something odd when you were around Eli but brushed it off since he'd been in your life since you were five, and you weren't one to think poorly of people. Eli, who was oddly against your feelings for Charles, proposed a plan to get you two together by showing up at the Italian Grand Prix as your boyfriend to make Charles jealous. Though you had a bad feeling, you reluctantly agreed.

Monza was always magical, especially since you worked for Ferrari. You loved seeing how fans adored Charles and Carlos. You even joined the locals in praying for a Ferrari win, secretly hoping it would be Charles. When Charles qualified P4, everyone assumed it was because the car lacked pace. However, Charles was distracted by seeing you with Eli. It wasn’t the fact that you were with another guy—it was how uncomfortable you looked. Eli insisted that pretending to be your boyfriend meant he could touch and hold you as he pleased, making you so uncomfortable you wished you could disappear. He justified it as "part of the plan."

Race day was the first time you spoke to Charles again. His responses were curt and had an edge to them, which was unusual. All he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and kiss you before the race. Instead, you exchanged a meek, “Good luck, Charlie.” He simply nodded, determined to win for both of you.

When Charles miraculously won the race, his first thought was of you. He couldn’t wait to see you and planned to pull you into his arms and whisper the same words he’d said while drunk. This time, though, he was sure you would understand, as you now knew some French. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. The strange feeling you had around Eli turned out to be justified—he was trying to drug you, hoping to manipulate the situation to drive Charles away and take advantage of you himself.

Eli had been slipping drugs into the water you drank. He knew you didn’t drink alcohol and had to be creative. Midway through the race, you began to feel dizzy, struggling to focus. Around lap 45, you sensed something was seriously wrong, and luckily, Rebecca noticed too. When Eli left momentarily to fetch more "water," you encountered Rebecca, who saw how pale and clammy you were. She informed Andrea and took you to the medical center, where you eventually collapsed.

When Charles crossed the finish line, he was on an emotional high—until he heard what happened to you. Charles never saw himself as a violent man, but when he heard about Eli’s plan, he couldn’t hold back his fury. He confronted Eli, who confessed to his scheme. It was a stupid plan, one intended to tear apart two people who clearly belonged together. Charles’s only concern, however, was you. Seeing you quiet and still made him realize how much he depended on your presence.

You had been unconscious for eight hours and were taken to a nearby hospital for safety. When you finally woke, you felt a rough hand over yours. Charles had stayed by your side the entire time, his eyes tired yet softening as you stirred. Slowly, your memory returned, and so did the panic of recent events. It took Charles an hour to calm you down. A week later, Eli was arrested for his crimes, and Charles barely left your side. Later that week, he finally asked you out.

He wasn’t the smoothest, but he composed a song on the piano for you and played it as he invited you to a high-end restaurant you’d always dreamed of. Toward the end, he finally said the words in French that he’d kept close to his heart: “La dernière fois que j'ai eu le courage de te dire ces mots, j'étais ivre. Cette fois, je suis sobre, et je suis complètement amoureux de toi. S'il te plaît, sois mon amant?”

You simply replied, “J'ai toujours été à toi, Charlie. Tu m'as juste fait attendre." And that’s how, against all odds, you two finally found each other.

French to English :

"My baby, I swear that I’ll make you my wife one day, my love. I wish I could say this sober."

"The last time I had the courage to say these words to you, I was drunk. This time, I'm sober, and I'm completely in love with you. Please, be mine?"

"I've always been yours, Charlie. You just made me wait."

[moonstruckme]

hi author !!! if it is okay with you i wanna request a fic in the same universe as the Big Brother!Sirius one where in reader gets a (secret) boyfriend and then they break up or whatever u want i just want hurt/comfort 🥹

Thanks for requesting <3

big brother!Sirius + little sister!reader ♡ 996 words

When you hear the door to your dorm open, you assume it’s one of your roommates or Regulus coming to shame you for missing dinner, but then your mattress shifts with the weight of someone else sitting down and a familiar teasing voice says, “If you’re dead under there, everyone’s going to think it was me.” 

You peep your eyes out from under the covers. “How did you get in here?” 

Sirius isn’t even looking at you. He’s making himself comfortable at the end of your bed, both legs crossed under him and hair falling in his face as he unwraps dishes and utensils. 

“Reggie let me in. He seemed to think you might need some company.” 

“He’s such a narc,” you grumble. 

Your brother only snickers. “Sit up, I brought you dinner.” 

You’d much rather stay under the covers, but know Sirius would only wrestle you into an upright position anyway. He always gets his way. 

“Yikes.” He makes a face as you sit up, revealing your bedhead and swollen eyes. “You’re having a rough one, huh?” 

“Shut up.” You glower at him and take the plate. “It’s not that bad.” 

Despite your grumbling, a bit of vulnerability sneaks into your tone. Sirius softens.

“No, it’s not,” he agrees, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair away from your face. “We’re always pretty; it’s in the genes.” 

You can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto your face. This is exactly the sort of thing your older brother would say when Regulus was twelve and sulking over getting his first pimple or when you nearly broke down in tears trying to style your hair. Despite his tomfoolery and general ridiculousness, Sirius’ levity actually provided a voice of reason in your family, reminding his siblings and cousins that things weren’t always so dire. 

“Thanks for bringing dinner,” you say.

“No problem,” Sirius replies softly, as though worried his gentle tone will be overhead and his rapscallion’s repute thusly destroyed. “Is it good enough that you’ll tell me what’s gotten you so upset?”

You blink at him in surprise. “Reg didn’t say?” 

Sirius’ mouth twists, dissatisfied. “He didn’t. I guess I would’ve been more likely to find out if I’d just pretended I already knew, huh?” 

That makes you chuckle. “Probably, yeah.” 

“Well, come on. Now you’ve gotta tell me.” 

You feel your shoulders hunch inwards. “Do I really have to?”

“Yes.” Your brother’s voice is firm, but his eyes are hopeful. 

You want to tell him, you find. You don’t suppose any harm can come from it now. 

You eye him carefully. “I broke up with my boyfriend.” 

Sirius’ eyes pop. He nearly topples your plate leaning forward, like you’re back in your childhood beds trading secrets. “You were dating someone?” 

“I was.” You can’t quite look at him, focussing on cutting your meal into small bites. “Or I thought I was. It doesn’t matter. I’m definitely not now.” 

“Wha—how did I not know about this?” 

“Because obviously I’m not going to talk about my dating life with my brother,” you huff a laugh down into your lap, and you swear you can feel the force of Sirius’ eye roll burning into the top of your head. “No one really knew. He wanted to keep it private.” 

Sirius tilts his head, slotting a piece of his hair behind his ear. “Private in an avoid-the-gossip-mill way or private in a dirty-secret way?” 

You close your eyes, shame curdling in your gut. Even your idiot brother knows enough to be suspicious of something like that. Maybe if you’d told him all those weeks ago, you wouldn’t be where you are now.

“In the second way,” you admit in a whisper. “I, um, sort of assumed it was because of the first, and I liked the idea of keeping things private too, but it turned out he had other reasons.” 

You try to take another bite of food, but it feels soggy and unappetizing in your mouth. You set your plate aside. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks. 

Your face feels miserably hot. “He just didn’t like me as much as I liked him. He didn’t want his friends to know.” Tears burn in your eyes, and when you try to speak again they show up in your voice, too. “I feel really stupid.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius sits up on his knees, bending over you to fold you into a hug. His hand presses reassuringly between your shoulder blades, and you let out a little sob. “That doesn’t make you stupid, it only makes him a prat.”

You hug him tightly. “I just feel so silly being upset when he probably doesn’t even care.” 

“You are being silly,” he chastises, but there’s fondness in your brother’s tone. “Of course he cares. He may not be regretting things right now, but I’d bet ten galleons he will be by the end of the month. Trust me, babe, boys are idiots. We don’t know how to act, we almost never know what we want, and we’re ten times more likely to fuck something up if it’s important to us. Just ask Remus.” 

Your laugh is a soggy thing. Sirius rubs your back encouragingly. 

“So, what’s the sod’s name?” 

“Oh, no way.” You laugh even harder, pulling out of the hug to wipe under your eyes. “I’m not telling you.” 

“What?” Sirius throws up his hands. “But we were doing so well!” 

“I’ve handled it, Sirius. I don’t want you to go and turn his skin green or make him sprout nose hairs down to his chin.” 

A giddy grin. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Does Regulus know who it is?” 

You fix him with your sternest stare. Most other people would soil their pants, but because he’s your older brother, Sirius only raises a brow. “If he did, he wouldn’t tell you.” 

“That’s alright.” He steals a roll off your plate, biting into it insouciantly. “I’ll find out.” 

[12percentspider]

Info time: Diabetes and related issues [this is long but I highly suggest reading]

Do you ever see something and you go "that doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about diabetes to dispute it"? Well, I can help you there. I can help you know enough about diabetes to dispute it if need be. Especially because well, there are seemingly a lot of scams going around where people claim to be diabetic [in my experience it's maybe 3 scammers that just remake] and the information is not very correct in most cases. Not to mention this type of scam pisses me off because I am in fact diabetic, and not only are people preying off of others' lack of information about the chronic condition, but it's also trivializing a serious lifelong condition that can be fatal. If you have now or have lost a loved one to diabetes complications, you are already aware of how dangerous it can be as well as how dangerous misinformation is as well.

What is diabetes? Diabetes is a chronic condition related to the endocrine system- the pancreas specifically. However, if complications get serious enough other parts of the body will be affected. In type 2 diabetes, the body's cells have become resistant to insulin, which is a hormone produced by the pancreas that allows cells to use glucose from the blood- your body's energy it needs to function. When someone is 'type 2', the food that person is eating is not able to fuel them, regardless of caloric content. Glucose is commonly called "blood sugar". It's a type of sugar that is processed and then transported via the circulatory system to your cells where it's needed. With type 1 diabetes (which used to be called "juvenile diabetes"), the pancreas does not produce any/enough insulin for some reason or another, generally because of autoimmune or other damage. [For me personally, I was diagnosed as an adult and had to have it confirmed as type 1 due to the presence of autoimmune antibodies, also apparently my pancreas hadn't quite given up at that point.] As we've seen before, insulin allows your body to use the food you are putting into it. As a double whammy, you can have type 1 with resistance, so not only is your body not producing any/enough insulin, what's there can't be used properly. [RIP Spider who has this] So to explain the effects, think about what happens when you're literally starving. Now imagine that's happening no matter how much you eat. Your body may go into starvation mode and store fat. This can be misleading, which when combined with fatphobia has people concluding that "well, you have diabetes because you're fat, duh". Heck, I have/had diabetic relatives who believed that eating too many carbs will automatically cause the condition because that's what everyone is told/assumes. Eventually, you'd starve and your body would start deteriorating as so. HOWEVER because you would have so much glucose that just sits there because it can't be used, your kidneys are going to work overtime to try and correct this- and they can't do it alone. Your liver can also suffer severe damage. That's not to mention a whole host of other complications that can occur.

So what about it? Well, obviously there are treatments. Insulin injections have existed since the 1920s. There are also medications that can help your body actually use the insulin it's being provided, be it naturally or artificially. So yes, people with diabetes are dependent on prescriptions to survive. My grandma lost a sister in childhood due to insulin treatments apparently not being available in the extremely rural area they were living in at the time. More recently, the israeli occupation has banned insulin from being distributed to Palestinians. [Insulin has also been used historically in psychiatric hospitals to force low blood sugar in psychiatric patients, but that's a whole other rabbithole about psychiatric abuse.] There are resources for the US and beyond if you or someone you know and/or love are in dire straits financially and need help with insulin or other diabetes medications/ related medical help. That's only one aspect of treatment, though. Because pain, stress, hormone changes, other medical issues, and plenty of other factors can raise your blood sugar to dangerous levels, other kinds of treatment to manage other factors may be necessary.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get to specifics. So the most common problem you're going to see mentioned is high blood sugar. We've already covered what the effects are, but what is considered high? For the most part, "high" is 200 milligrams per deciliter. My CGM (continuous glucose monitor) lists "high" as anything 181 or higher but stops giving an exact number after 350. This is why I had a good laugh that time I saw a scammer using an image of a meter reading glucose in the 120s- that's good blood sugar. If you're going to get even more specific you want your pre-breakfast blood sugar to be 80-130. So when you see an accompanying image reading in the 500s, that's extremely dangerous. That's "you're in danger of going into a coma" dangerous.

Insulin pricing? How come I'm seeing people saying they need $300? In the US, pricing cap was set to $35 somewhat recently. What this means is that per insulin pen (as far as I've experienced, the above-linked resource post should have links with better clarification) it's $35. Can't be more than that for one pen. How many doses that provides is very up in the air. It absolutely varies from person to person. I have relatives with type 2 that have to inject a dose of very long-acting insulin weekly, one has gone back and forth with daily doses on top of that. I'm type 1 and have to take one dose of long-acting nightly with injections of a short-acting insulin before every meal, with the exact dosage amounts varying per meal. Insulin is measured in units (there's probably an actual mL amount, both of mine are 100 units per mL with a 3mL pen). How many units someone needs is determined with their medical provider (or care team? When I went to 'diabetes education' after diagnosis I was set up with a "care team").

Edited:

["...pharmacies can refuse to split boxes of insulin pens depending on company/store policy. so if someone lost their insulin and needed to get a replacement because insurance wont pay for more, the pharmacy could make them get a full box of three or five pens."]

via: anon ask (thank you much!!!) So it turns out that yes, with $35 being a cap it would very much likely be for EACH pen, with 3 being $105 in this case and 5 being $175.

But at any rate, if someone is in an emergency situation in the US should be able to get an insulin pen for $35 pretty much when they get to a pharmacy [again, from edit: no, not every pharmacy]. Yes, I get that this can be difficult in some situations, but that's outside the concept of insulin prices.

If someone's blood sugar is over 500 though, they almost certainly need a hospital more than they need an insulin pen. Yes, alright, the actual real single mother on twitter who was the source of the profile images/meter images that whatever the current url for vero-og has stolen and been using for months... that was actually months ago and I'm sure she doesn't need to be told to go to the hospital right now. [That said, if you get an ask from someone and the url is a variation off of 'vero-og' that is a confirmed scammer.] And then on top of that, yes, why would you block people that can get you free or discounted insulin? If someone was offering to save your life for free or find you what you need for far less than what you were expecting to spend, why wouldn't you take it? Unless what you're actually after is money.

SO TO RECAP: Insulin does not cost $300, $350, $370, whatever someone is sending you an ask about. In the US, it is federally capped at $35 per pen, with further resources available, as well as further resources being available internationally. If you need help, please be honest about it. I promise there are people who care, you don't have to try and explain yourself- but it absolutely does not cost that much and if it did, there are ways to lower the cost by quite a bit if there aren't resources to make it free. Diabetes is a lifelong chronic condition that is not caused by "being fat" or "eating too much", it is caused by your body not functioning right and your body can starve no matter how much food you eat. Unfortunately, people have been lying on this site for months if not years claiming to have type 1 with an insulin emergency. These people cannot possibly have diabetes, or they would be well aware that they do not need hundreds of dollars to get their insulin. They are counting on you not knowing this so you will donate to them. The 'vero-og' scammer had been harassing someone who donated and threatening them with the intention of bullying more money out of the donor.