#i don’t actually have anyone to speak about it to

[sincerelyneo]

i wanna be yours | p.js

“secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought”

💿now playing: i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys

❯ summary: Jisung has known for years that his best friend, Chenle’s, sister is his. So there’s no way he’s going to sit back and watch another man touch you—especially not now, when he’s already had a taste of you.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend

❯ words: 3.8k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, marking, possessiveness, unprotected sex (don’t do this), dirty talk, fingering, manhandling, jealousy, slightly toxic, praise, squirting, creampies, jisung has something to prove, arguing, older reader, jisung just being jealous and obsessive for almost 4k words

an: first post of 2025 and it’s an idea that i started writing on the bus lol. (also i’m a firm believer of the jisung is very possessive and clingy agenda)

Jisung could sit here and lie, say that the only reason he’s white-knuckling his fist right now is because he’s protective of you. He could lie and say that he’s just worried about the guy who’s currently got his arm around your waist because you’re his best friend’s sister. He could lie and say he’s just concerned—but he’s not.

He’s jealous.

So fucking jealous.

But he has no right to be. You’re Chenle’s older sister. You can handle yourself—you’ve told him that plenty of times, mocking him with that stupid fucking ‘Jisungie’ nickname you used to call him when you were all just kids.

And still, he watches the way you laugh at something the guy says, your head tilting back just enough to make his chest burn. He knows that laugh. He’s heard it a thousand times before, he loves it, but tonight, it feels different—feels wrong. Your laugh is not meant for this guy. It’s not meant for anyone else but him for that matter. 

Jisung knows he should look away before it becomes too obvious—obvious that he likes you, obvious that he's jealous, obvious that he can’t get you out of his head. But that’s hard to do when just ten minutes ago he had you pressed up against the wall of your childhood room—the same wall you share with Chenle—his cock pounding into you from behind without mercy, and you’d let him. Loved it.

How can he stay composed when that asshole has his hand on his girl’s—Chenle’s sister’s—waist? Jisung jolts as he hears his teeth grind together—fuck, was that his jaw clenching? Safe to say he’s passed subtlety. 

He sucks in a breath. This is Chenle’s birthday party, stop thinking about his sister you idiot. 

Actually, fuck that. 

Because why is that stranger’s hand moving up your thigh so easily? Why does your breath hitch when he leans in closer? Call him toxic; he doesn’t care. But Jisung wishes he hadn’t let you put your panties back on, so that asshole could see—no, feel—his cum dripping out of you as his hand traces your thigh right now.

He scoffs and nurses his drink. Keep calm, it’s Chenle’s birthday. 

Speak of the devil—almost on cue, Jisung feels his best friend slap him on the shoulders with a shout. He glances over his shoulder to see Chenle, clearly drunk, and while he usually hates dealing with his wild, inebriated antics, he appreciates that his best friend is oblivious to the way Jisung is currently eyeing his older sister tonight.

He settles into the empty seat next to Jisung with a grunt. “Y/N forgot my cake. One job that girl had,” Chenle shakes his head, guzzling down the last of his beer before grabbing another and cracking it open.

“She was probably preoccupied,” Jisung shrugs, trying to dismiss any thought of you from his mind. He doesn’t exactly know the right way to tell his friend that his sister was too busy being preoccupied on his cock, and that’s why she forgot his birthday cake. 

Chenle scoffs, “She’s always preoccupied. Look at her,” he gestures toward you. “I think I heard her with that guy earlier. Traumatizing.” He visibly shakes and squeezes his eyes shut.

“It wasn’t him,” Jisung growls.

Chenle swats his hand in the air, already halfway through that new beer bottle. “Yeah, yeah. Doesn’t matter who it was, still traumatizing.”

Jisung nods and purses his lips. But to him, it does matter because it was him. Him who made you pant so desperately, him who filled you so completely that your legs wobbled, and he had to hold you steady, his fingertips imprinted into your hips. Him who made you cum. Him. Always him. And right now, he wanted to make sure that it was only him. 

The sound of Chenle snoring in the seat next to him pulls Jisung from his thoughts and back to where he feels most at home—you. He swears he could find you in seconds; you’re like a magnet, an obsession in his mind. You’re all he can think about, all he’s ever been able to think about, and now that he’s had you, he’s never you letting go. Call him a maniac.

With Chenle undoubtedly crashed out, his eyes find you and the sight of you leaning in closer to that guy, lips almost touching, ignites a fire in him. He sees red—hot, undeniable crimson. Without a thought, he storms over. That’s not true, he’s been thinking about it for the past twenty minutes. 

“Y/N!” he calls out, but not to get your attention, to stop your lips connecting with that asshole, who Jisung is certain he’d be able to take in a fight. 

You turn, surprise flickering in those pretty eyes he loves, and that’s all it takes for Jisung to reach you. He steps between you and the guy, his chest heaving, anger palpable. Without giving you a moment to process, his rough hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back to your childhood bedroom.

Your own wave of crimson flushes over your body as the pink walls come into view and the lock you’d begged your parents for during puberty clicks into place. Jisung had been in your room countless times as kids, when you dressed him and Chenle up like dolls or begged them to play board games. But now, knowing he had you in a pathetic, desperate moaning mess not long ago and gave you the best sex of your life in this very room, it feels different.

He feels different. 

Nostrils flared, fists clenched, and muscles taut. This was not the Jisungie you once made friendship bracelets with or taught to roller skate. No, this was just Jisung—grown up, exuding a raw, masculine energy that was both captivating and intimidating. Sexy even. Perhaps that’s why you got distracted when he came over early to set up for Chenle’s birthday.

You shouldn’t have gotten distracted, or indulged, no matter how hot he’d gotten over the summer. He was still, and always would be, your little brother’s best friend. 

Snap out of it, Y/N. 

“Jisung, what do you think you’re doing?” You snap at him and back to reality. 

His eyes narrow, drawn into a sharp expression that shouldn’t make your thighs weak, but it does. “What am I doing? What are you doing, Y/N?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“That guy, Y/N.” He spits your name, a low growl that tightens your chest, “You’ve lost your damn mind if you think I’m just going to stand by while you flirt with some guy.”

You scoff, unable to deny it. Yes, you had been flirting with that guy, but honestly, it was just a distraction to take your mind off the fact that you’d just let your brother’s childhood friend fuck you six ways to Sunday. 

“You’re being ridiculous," you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “You have no right to act like this.”

His nostrils flare again, and he steps closer, invading your space. You instinctively take a step back—because this is how it happened last time, his stupid muscular body and obnoxious height inching towards you (minus the argument.)

"Ridiculous? You think it’s ridiculous that I care? That I don’t want to see you with someone like him?"

“Someone like him? You don’t know anything about him.”

Jisung tongues the inside of his cheek, inhaling sharply before muttering, “He had his hands all over you in the middle of a kitchen. Pretty sure that makes him an automatic asshole.”

You can feel your heart racing, but you refuse to back down. "You’re getting jealous over one guy after we—after a one-time thing, Jisung. It’s so childish!"

The moment that singular word leaves your mouth, you see a shift in his expression. His eyes darken, and there’s a flicker of something raw and primal lingering in his irises. Desire, maybe lust, but definitely determination.

Without a word, Jisung moves toward you in a blur of motion, his hand snapping out to grip your wrist, yanking you back before you even have time to react. You stumble, your back slamming against the door with a harsh thud. Thank God, there’s a party downstairs because you’re certain the impact was savage enough to be heard if not for the music.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he cages you in, his body pressing against yours, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breath. His hands bracket your face, fingers digging into the wood behind you, holding you there, trapped beneath his gaze, trapped beneath his body. 

"Childish, huh?" His voice drops an octave, and you can feel the heat, the anger, the hunger, radiating off him. "I’ll show you childish."

It’s a threat, a rise to your challenge, and said with an edge that makes your stomach flutter—against your will.

You meet his eyes, refusing to show any fear, though your heart races in your chest. “What, you think you can intimidate me?”

A corner of his mouth curls up in a half-smirk. "I know I can do a lot more than that."

Before you can respond, his face closes the distance between you, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that feels like a challenge—not the passion he offered earlier, just pure desperation and need. His hands grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing harder against yours like he can’t get close enough. 

You can’t tell if it’s anger or the desperate need to prove something that drives him, but the way his touch grows possessive leaves no room for argument. You don’t want to argue though, not when his other hand trails down your thigh, hiking up your dress, and one calloused finger slips beneath the black lace of your panties to find your swollen, aching clit.

You draw in a shallow breath, one that only fuels his cocky grin as he nuzzles into your neck, his warm breath skimming along the delicate curve of your nape before trailing to your ear. His finger continues to rub slow, so painfully slow, circles into your clit.

“Was I childish when I finger fucked you to orgasm with Chenle just next door? Was I childish when I pounded this pretty pussy into your pillows? Or was I childish when—”

“J-Jisungie,” you gasp, voice trembling with need, cutting him off. But who could blame you? The slow, deliberate motion of his fingers, paired with the weight of his words, had you aching for more—more of him, more of this, anything with friction. 

His blunt nails dig into the tender flesh of your thigh, possessive and unyielding, as his lips skim the sensitive spot where your neck meets your collarbone. A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your skin. 

“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

You let out a soft whimper of submission, your legs trembling as he edges them apart, giving himself better access to the spot you need him most—the spot he knows you need him most.

“Is that what this is about?” you manage to ask, though your voice is shaky, breathless.

He doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he nuzzles deeper into the curve of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. He doesn’t need to respond because his fingers do it for him, their pace quickening against your sensitive nerves.

You can’t believe this is happening—again. Chenle would kill you both if he found out, but the thought isn’t enough to stop you. Your hips buck instinctively, meeting the rhythm of his long, slender fingers as they work relentlessly to coax an orgasm out of you.

“Ji–We can’t do this,” you whisper, though the words come out weak, entirely unconvincing.

His lips pause against your neck, but his fingers don’t. If anything, they press harder, toying against your clit, drawing a choked moan from your lips as he hovers just close enough for you to feel his breath.

“Oh, so we can’t do this,” there’s venom in his voice, as his finger sinks lower until it’s circling your entrance, “but you were ready to let that asshole do this to you in the kitchen.”

Your breath catches in your throat, a mix of shame and defiance flaring within you. “It’s not the same.”

“Exactly,” he growls, his fingers curling inside you in a way that makes your knees buckle. “It’s not the same, because he’ll never touch you the way I do. He’ll never make you feel the way I do, never get the fucking chance.”

“Jisung—” you start, but he cuts you off, his free hand gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes are dark, intense, and filled with something lust. 

“Tell me to stop,” he challenges, lips brushing dangerously close to yours. He doesn’t kiss you, but nips at the bottom of your plush lip. “Tell me you don’t want this, Y/N, and I’ll stop.”

You try to form the words, to muster any resistance, but they melt into a moan as his fingers press against that spot deep inside you, leaving your legs trembling. It’s almost sick, really—how well he knows your body, as if he’s memorized every reaction, every weak spot. Like he’s studied the blueprint of you, mastered it, and has no intention of ever letting anyone else have access to it.

“That’s what I thought,” he mutters, his smirk sharp and sinister. His lips finally crash against yours, stealing what little resolve you had left.

His kiss is hungry, consuming, as if he’s trying to prove a point with every press of his mouth, clash of teeth, and every curl of his fingers. And the worst part is, he’s right—you do want this. You want him.

“Say it,” he demands against your lips. “Say you want me.”

Your hands clutch desperately at his shoulders, body arching into him as his touch overwhelms you. The fight leaves you entirely, your resistance crumbling to dust. “I want you,” you confess, the words spilling from your lips before you can even think to stop them.

He grins against your mouth. “Good, because you’re mine.”

And he’s going to make damn sure you know it. He’s going to make sure everyone knows it—especially that fucking asshole who touched you. You’re his. 

Jisung finds the length of your neck again, his skilled fingers continuing their work on your pussy. He knows you’re close, knows exactly how to draw this out of you until you’re cumming, all while he’s branding your skin with purple bruises across your neck. Call it an ego thing, but knowing some part of him will be etched onto your skin has his cock throbbing, his bulge swelling in his jeans just from the thought of you belonging to him—even if it’s only temporary. Jisung doesn’t care. He’ll keep doing this until it’s permanent, until your mind finally catches up, and you realize you belong to him, just as much as he belongs to you.

“For someone who was so insistent that we can’t do this, you have no problem making a mess on my fingers, noona,” he coos, his whispers brushing against your skin. “I can hear how wet you are, all for me, yeah?”

He’s a cocky fucker, and he knows it.

“Ji—please,” you whine, your body moving in sync with his, desperate to push yourself over the edge. Jisung laughs, the vibration of it shooting through you straight to your core. His fingertips dig into your pelvis, halting your movements because he’s the one in control. He’s the one with something to prove.

“You wanna cum, noona?” he asks, almost mockingly. “Want me to make you cum?”

You nod eagerly, desperation etched across your features. Yes, you want it—no orgasm could ever compare to the one you know he can give you.

Jisung pulls away from your neck, his pupils blown wide as he admires the art painted across your skin—his mark. He’s never been one for art, never understood what people meant by seeing a message in a painting, but as his fingers trace the deep red imprints of his mouth, he understands exactly what this piece of skin says: mine.

His fingers plunge deeper inside your cunt, the steady rhythm driving you wild. He curls them just right, his touch grazing that rough patch inside you that makes you gasp, your breath catching and lips parting. 

He smirks, his eyes never leaving yours as he mouths words of praise and instructions. At least, you think he’s mouthing them—your mind is fogged, overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure crashing over you, the only sound you can focus on is the buzzing of your orgasm, your cries and the way his name spills from your lips in a frantic, desperate whisper.

"Such a good fucking girl," he murmurs when your high starts to fade, voice low with approval. "My good fucking girl."

Maybe it’s the post-climax haze, your mind still swimming in fog, but your arms find their way around Jisung’s neck, pulling him down to crash your lips against his. He’s caught off guard, just as much as you are—you're not one to initiate, and he hadn’t expected more. He’d already made his point clear: he knows your body, he knows how to make you feel good, how to make you cum.

But here you are, nipping at his lip, devouring his mouth with a hunger that catches you both by suprise. And when you whisper a soft, "Fuck me again, please, Jisung," he's done for.

"My girl is so impatient and greedy, huh?" He tsks, but it's more to regain his composure than anything. He’d almost cum in his pants at the sight of you begging him to fuck you, like some horny teenager. But his determination to prove he’s not the boy you grew up with keeps him grounded.

He hoists you up effortlessly, his hands gripping the underside of your ass as your legs instinctively wrap around his body. With ease, he carries you to the bed, dropping you onto it with a predatory gleam in his eyes. As he climbs over you, his gaze darkens with hunger, every movement clear, saying one thing: he's going to devour you.

"Such a dirty girl, letting your brother’s friend fuck you twice in one night," he teases, his hands slowly working to peel the dress from your body. When he sees you’ve been wearing no bra underneath, your nipples fully exposed and standing at attention instantly, a low curse slips from his lips. 

He could admire your body for hours—he hadn’t had the chance to earlier because the stakes felt higher then. But for you, the moment is urgent. You need him—all of him—inside you, now. Maybe that’s why you decide to taunt him.

“I can always get someone else to do it if you don’t want to.”

“Watch it,” he warns, as his grip tightens on you. His eyes darken with possessiveness, a wave of jealousy flickering in his eyes. The thought of someone else touching you like this, even as a joke, triggers something primal inside him.

Without another word, Jisung sheds his own clothes, hands moving to your thighs, spreading them apart with a firm, controlled movement. His breath hitches as he stares down at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect, so fucking his.

“Made to take my cock,” he mutters, giving you a moment to adjust. You nod softly, the sensation of him filling every part of you dulling every lingering ache. 

He circles the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you as payback for that little comment, before slowly sinking into you, inch by inch. Your eyes roll back at the delicious stretch, your body yielding to him as he fits into you so perfectly. So big, so deep, so yours.

It isn’t until he’s buried deep inside you, balls against your skin, that a groan escapes both of you.

He doesn't hold back, his groans raw and needy. He wants you to hear him—hear how good you make him feel, how desperate he's been for you, for this, how much he’s craved you for years. Every sound, every groan, he wants it etched in your memory. He wants you to remember him when you think about any other man—your first boyfriend, or the guy who took you to prom, and especially the flings you had on spring break.

He wants to be the only man who makes you come apart. The only one you grip with those pretty nails, scraping his back as if marking him, your own little claim to match his purple marks. 

Jisung has always had a soft spot for you, but the way he fucks is anything but soft. This is desperate, driven, a reminder that only he can make you feel this way—only he will. His thrusts are hard, dominating, consuming, each one a claim, marking you as his in the most primal way and you love it.

He knows you love it—the way your pussy clenches around him, fluttering rhythmically, milking his own orgasm from him with every squeeze. Sloppy, deep, and abrupt, his resolve twists tighter inside his stomach. His grip on your hips tightens and he drives into you with relentless, unyielding force, chasing his high. 

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “My pretty girl,” he growls. “Only mine.”

You can barely respond, the pleasure building so intensely that all you can do is cling to him, your fingernails digging into his pale skin, feeling every part of him take control. Each thrust pushes you closer to an edge you’ve never felt before, your stomach coiling tightly, a delicious tension threatening to snap.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice low and filled with heat, his pace never slowing. “Say you’re mine.”

Your breath hitches, body trembling as the tension in your core reaches its peak. “Yours,” you whisper, but it’s enough to make him groan in satisfaction.

Suddenly, the world around you blurs as the pleasure overwhelms you. Your body responds, the waves crashing over you as your eyes roll. A choked cry escapes, and a rush of wetness unlike anything you’ve felt before floods your body. 

Your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, but Jisung doesn’t let you hide. He watches you, eyes dark,  filled with awe and pride, as he takes in the fact that he’s the one who’s just made you squirt.

“How’s that for childish?” he murmurs with a smirk, the words dripping with possessiveness.

And with one final thrust, he drives into you, his body shuddering as he reaches his own release, spilling inside of you.

“Oh, and by the way,” he murmurs breathlessly, lips brushing against your ear, “there’s no way this is just a one-time thing, Y/N.”

[gimmeamanateeaftermidnight]

Ya’ll need to get the church out of your head. As someone raised Southern Baptist with a history of self harm, I need to be so fucking clear about something.

You cannot heal another by harming yourself.

Self harm is not reparations. Maybe a victim wants the person that hurt them to suffer. That’s a valid, human reaction. But, ultimately, their healing is reliant on other factors, ones the person that hurt them usually can’t control. Timing, surroundings, seeking help. The person that harmed can help by physically distancing themselves from their victim, but that’s just about the only material thing they can do to mitigate further harm. They need to apologize if possible, but the victim may not be in a place to hear or internalize it. Something the the person that harmed, again, can’t control. Suffering doesn’t clarify or purify. It doesn’t bring justice, it doesn’t prevent injustice. It just means there’s more suffering and serves as a distraction from any actual progress.

You do not harm others by healing yourself.

In fact, I believe the best way to move forward is to build yourself into someone who would never do that harm again. Whether it was sustained abuse, sexual assault or just saying something unkind that one time. If you hurt someone and feel terrible, change. Because you can’t go back. Full stop, time travel doesn’t exist. You cannot undo these things. No one can. So think before you act/speak. The most responsible thing you can do is face the part of you that caused you to harm another. Where did it come from? Why is it here? How do I heal it? Because if you don’t, no amount of guilt is going to guarantee that it won’t happen again. Healing is the only thing that prevents harm.

This may be a bit rambly, but the black and white view of morality that ya’ll have reminds me of all the worst parts of church and it genuinely scares me. There is a difference between trying to do right and trying to be righteous. Humans are grey. We will each of us cause harm and be harmed. We will each of us have reason to rightfully feel guilt at one time or another and telling people that the only proper response is to freeze and sink and mire in their own self-hate is not sustainable or helpful to anyone. And if you yourself have never had reason to feel guilt, well…. I certainly don’t want to be around you.

the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese

[doublel27]

I’m still thinking about Daou Pittya’s live last night where he roasted fans and his current mission to get people to stop using the terms koojin and fanservice.

And thinking about how Pond and Phuwin admitted they hang out a lot but they don’t post any of it because they don’t want their actual relationship outside of work to be called fanservice.

And thinking about the interview BillyBabe gave recently where they reiterated that they don’t engage in fanservice and they can’t make anyone believe anything about their relationship anyway.

And about old videos of Earth during early ATOTS era asking MCs not to use the term koojin about him and Mix.

And about YinWar, BossNouel and MaxTul always having been very honest that they are friends who work together. Never obscuring that fact.

And about Tay Tawan loudly saying that OffGunTayNew all kiss each other all the time since Gun showed up and the realties of their friendship are none of your business.

And about Krist loudly saying he’s allowed to have friends.

Because none of these pairs intend to stop acting with their current partner (aside from MaxTul because Tul has left the industry entirely.) They’re not protesting being paired with another person for multiple projects. They are protesting the commodification, the telling a person who they are with know actual knowledge, and frankly homophobic/toxic masculinity drenched idea that for a man to show care to another man they either have to have a deep romantic relationship or they’re faking it all for the money, even the stuff with no branding attached.

And half the stuff that gets filed away as evidence that two men in a pair or are dating or that everything is definitely fanservice and is entirely manufactured are things that are completely normal in female friendships:

Looking at a person when they speak

Knowing someone’s likes and dislikes

Thoughtful gifts

Saying you love them/care

Acts of service

Physical affection

Sometimes being jealous of a friend’s relationship with other friends

Hanging out outside of work

And yeah, some of them may be just coworkers that they grit their teeth and work with and fake it til they make it. But some pairs out there have a genuine relationship, however they label it. And however it’s labeled is none of your business.

As a fan, you have no right to tell them how to act, whether it’s to call out fanservice and demand they stop or to tell them they can’t have other friends. Both are toxic extremes and treating a person like an object you can control.

There’s a longer essay on this, that I plan to finish soon, but this is where my brain keeps cycling through.

Bottom line, listen to these men when they speak. Trust their agency. I hope they keep clapping back at everyone.

[cognitiveoverload]

I know who you are! (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Knowing a lot about serial killer cases can come in handy when the new resident who asked for your number is a little too familiar.

tags: witness protection era!Hotch, hint of a soft!dom personality, children's book author!reader

It’s an itch in your brain that you can’t scratch. You know that you have seen him before, you just don’t know where. A coffee shop? A grocery store? It’s killing you, driving you crazy, but no matter how many nights you spend thinking, you just can’t remember. How could you forget someone like him? There is something about him, that rare smile, those warm brown eyes that you can’t stop thinking about.

Then, as you are watching an FBI press conference about a serial killer on the loose, you suddenly remember. Of course. Your little obsession with serial killer cases comes with a lot of these press conferences and interviews, that’s where you saw him. And his name… What was his name? Determined to find the answer, you begin to investigate, searching for articles and videos on the internet that luckily doesn’t forget. 

And there he is, standing on the steps of a police station, wearing a suit that seems so strange compared to the casual clothes he wears these days. He looks extremely serious, strict, and in all honesty, you can’t blame him. What he did on a daily basis must have been a lot to handle mentally, especially if he had a son to look out for.

The next day you send him a text to find out when he’ll be home, and to your surprise, he replies in a minute, saying he’s there so you can jump in whenever you’re around. It’s been over a week since he asked for your number at his son’s soccer match, but you only texted and talked on the phone so far. Yet, even those were enough to let you learn a lot about him, and you grew to like this man. 

When he opens the door with that stupidly handsome smile of his, you begin to wonder if revealing what you know is a good idea, but deep down you can’t help yourself. “Hey. So… is this you?” you ask with a cute smile, showing him a screenshot on your phone. 

The blood drains from his face, and his suddenly serious expression tells you maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. He grabs your arm—surprisingly gently, so it won’t leave a mark—and pulls you inside, then presses your back against the now closed door. “Where did you find this?” 

“I knew I’ve seen you before, but for days I couldn’t remember where. Then I saw a press conference with an FBI agent about a serial killer on the loose and bam! It came to me as a vision,” you explain calmly. You’re not afraid of him, because even though he definitely looks like someone who could hurt you, you can also tell that he has no intention to do so.

For a long moment he watches you in silence, but then he lets out a sigh and takes a few steps away from you. “Did you tell anyone about this?” he asks quietly, although his voice is laced with worry. 

Without hesitation, you shake your head. You’re not that dumb. “You recently moved here with a fake name… Must have a reason for that. I don’t want to get involved, it has more to do with satisfying my curiosity. Now your reaction confirmed I was right, and the case is closed as far as I’m concerned,” you explain. 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” 

He nods, then inhales and exhales slowly, his eyes carefully studying your face. The serious expression is eventually replaced with a much softer look, but he remains silent, as if he was trying to gather the confidence to say what’s on his mind. But it’s weird, he hasn’t struck you as the type of guy who lacks confidence. Quite the opposite, actually.

And then he speaks up. “Stay for dinner,” he says, his voice gentle and a little hesitant, as if it has been a while since he asked anyone out. Or was it that? You must be seeing a little too much into this invitation.

But then you realize what this is all about. “That’s your way of keeping me silent?”

He flashes a boyish smile at you. “Trust me, if I wanted to silence you, that’s not how I would do it,” he points out with a laugh.

“Was it a threat I should be afraid of, or… Never mind.”

“No, no, say it,” he tells you, the request sounding a little like it was an order. “Or what?”

You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, because why would you tell him what you were really thinking about? Hell, you feel ashamed for something like this even occurring to you, you won’t make things worse by saying it out loud. Maybe it’s time to leave, maybe this is the moment when you turn down the offer and walk out of the house with your dignity still intact. 

Sadly, when you gulp and move to open the door, he steps closer to you and covers your hand on the doorknob with his to stop you. You must look like a deer in the headlights as you look up at him, frozen from terror because you feel trapped, but it doesn’t bother him, he just raises an eyebrow and waits for your answer in silence. 

With a soft sigh, you try to pull your hand away from his, but he only tightens his grip around it. “It just had a weird edge to it, like the sentence had a kind of rated R meaning,” you explain, speaking so fast you hope he doesn’t understand a single word. 

But he does. And that smug bastard is enjoying every second of your suffering. “Clever girl,” he purrs as he leans closer. “So, dinner. Now that you know who I am, the least you can do is take the time to one, tell me why you remember stuff like those press conferences, and two, give me some proper adult company.” The end of that sentence shocks you, but he sees the look on your face and quickly shakes his head. “Not that kind of adult company. Just a glass of wine and a conversation after Jack goes to bed.” You let out a sigh of relief, but that peaceful moment doesn’t last long. “Unless you want a different kind of adult activity, because…”

“Hey!” you warn him as you playfully slap his arm. “Just so you know, I spend my time writing children’s books, I need a hobby. Serial killer cases and horror movies are good for me.” He gives you a doubtful look, although there’s a teasing smirk on his lips. “What?”

“Be here at six,” he says as he finally lets go of your hand that slides off the doorknob. “And wear something nice for me.” 

For a moment you only stare at him, but then you nod. Damn it, you can’t say no to this face. Anything you want, handsome.

[mattysketchup]

bf!matt streaming with influencer!reader

warnings… swearing, mentions of the doggy position (no actual smut), making out, unhinged twitch chat, use of y/n, slightly suggestive towards the end, use of y/n, matt gets a little jealous

(masterlist)

blessings and riches, tessa

“we’re streaming chris” nick spoke, warning chris before he said something stupid on live.

“oh hey guys” chris said with a goofy smile. “we decided to stream because it’s been so long since the last one”

“yeah, also matt is here i just think he’s just getting us some food” nick says to clear the air.

about fifteen minutes pass and the boys have been, well, chaotic.

“ ‘cause you can keep a trophy that you don’t deserve-”

“chris actually shut the fuck up please” nick begged. chris hadn’t stopped talking the entire stream, which led to nick snapping at him.

chris rolls his eyes at the comment, and looks at his phone.

“matt texted and said he was going to in n out, what do you want to eat” chris reads.

“just some fries and a dr pepper” nick says.

chris texts the orders to matt and begins to read the chat.

“people want matt up in here now” chris says, after reading a couple comments from the chat.

“everybody keeps asking if we’re gonna film with y/n again soon” nick says, squinting at the screen.

“yeah, we probably will” chris says. “she might be here right now or she left to get food with matt”

the second chris even mentions your presence, the chat goes wild.

the chat is filled with questions; when is your new video coming out? will you collab with the triplets again? are you dating anyone?

“yeah she’s out with matt but we can ask if she wants to hop on the stream later” nick says as chris offers to text you and ask.

| chris

hey when u and matt r back do u wanna hop on the stream

| me

yk what sureee

“she said sure” chris repeats your text, causing the chat to go crazier. (if possible)

around ten minutes pass, and the sound of you and matt walking in the house is noticeable by the boys.

“what up pussy gang” chris says as matt places the food on his bed, where the boys had been streaming

you follow behind him, awkwardly waving to the camera and sitting on matt’s bed.

the chat, once again, goes wild.

“so introduce yourself, give us a fun fact or two” nick says sarcastically, motioning to you.

“uhm hey, i’m y/n l/n, and i do youtube” you chuckle softly, the awkward silence speaking for you.

you and the boys talk some more while eating, until boredom starts to get the best of nick.

“should we play dress to impress?” nick suggests.

matt looks at the chat with his eyebrows raised. “chat should we play dress to impress?”

everybody in the chat starts saying yes, which ultimately led to the group playing the game.

“ok wait, y/n you start” nick says, moving out of the main seat so you could sit.

“okay the theme is…” you begin, waiting for the theme to be known. “famous youtuber. oh i’m about to fucking cook”

“wait how do i like move my screen?” you ask, turning to matt.

“you jus’ gotta…here” he brings his hand over yours, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he adjust your screen.

“ah thanks” you say, hoping no one notices the way you were hardcore blushing.

you put on the exact outfit you’re wearing; blue jeans, cropped shirt, grey jacket, the outfit is sort of basic but nonetheless a good choice.

you finish your outfit and it’s time for the runway. it’s your turn, and you start doing poses.

“wait i’m gonna put y/n l/n in the chat so people know who i am” you say as you do that.

“oh my f- you ate down” nick compliments you as you thank him.

“yeah y’look great” matt says, smiling. “aw thank you” you swoon.

you hit the pose where you are on your hands and knees, leading to matt’s disapproval.

“i hate that fucking doggy position” he says, and everyone goes wild.

you begin to laugh at the joke, looking at matt with a slightly alarmed face.

the audience didn’t know you were dating matt, and you didn’t need them too. however matt saying this was ironic, seeing as, well, you and matt have tried that position before.

the people vote, and that leaves you to see what you got. the results are in, and you won first place.

you start cheering and laughing, moving out of the way for matt to do his turn.

a while passes, the boys do their rounds and get a couple victories, which leads to boredom.

“should we answer some questions from the chat?” chris suggests in an attempt to cure the bored haze in the room.

you all agree and the chat gets filled with questions.

“ooh okay this one is for y/n” nick begins. “when is your next collab with carrington coming out?”

“i don’t know actually but we should definitely collab again” you smile. “i had a blast last time we did”

the moment another guys name is mentioned, matts head turns. he’s now very invested in the conversation.

although he knows that you’re his girlfriend who wouldn’t leave him, he couldn’t help but feel jealous that another man made you so happy.

the group reads a couple more questions and statements from the chat.

“someone said they got their back blown out in fresh love…” nick reads. “what the fuck.”

everyone laughs in pure shock and disbelief at why someone would randomly say that.

“can i have a sip?” you ask matt, motioning to the drink sitting in front of him.

“yeah, ‘course” he says, handing you the drink. “chat we’re probably gonna hop off soon”

another fifteen minutes pass and matt was being touchy, touchier than normal.

you knew matt wasn’t all about pda, especially on stream, so you knew it was something rather urgent.

“okay guys that is all for todays stream, thank you so much for tuning in and there will be a new video out on friday, bye!” chris says, ending the stream.

the moment chris closed out of that stream matt was quick to rush his brothers out of his room, wanting to be alone with you.

once the boys were gone, matt cupped your face into a passionate and hungry kiss.

a little bit passes and you pull away to catch your breath.

“matt hun what’s up?” you giggle from the sudden embrace.

he pushes you down on the bed, planting soft kisses on your neck and jaw.

“please sweetheart” matt whispers. “i jus’ need y’so fuckin’ bad”

your heart starts pounding harder than normal and you feel a familiar heat growing between your legs.

let’s just say, matt got what he needed.

tessa’s notes… i am so sorry for being inactive ! thank u all for reading, this is rlly long yet so rushed lol. thought i would bring this au back, lmk if i should make a proper introduction !!

more bf!matt x influencer!reader

comment 👾 to be added to the taglist !

[petals2fish]

Now I'm imagining the events during Chamber of Secrets, when Hagrid is taken to Azkaban. He’s thrown into a cell across from Sirius Black. They don’t speak, just stare. The dementors aura have reduced Hagrid to a state of silent, wide-eyed terror. Sirius, though gaunt and wasting away after eleven years in prison, recognizes Hagrid. He knows who Hagrid is—remembers him as the one who carried Harry to Dumbledore all those years ago. Sirius knows that Hagrid must know Harry.

But time has changed Sirius. He’s no longer the man Hagrid might have recognized. It’s clear the half-giant doesn’t realize who is sitting across from him behind the bars. A few hours go by and Sirius can’t help himself.

"Is he safe?" Sirius rasps, his voice rough and cracked from disuse.

Hagrid jerks his head up, startled. His thick eyebrows knit together as he stares at the man, the familiarity of his face finally clicking. Recognition dawns, but Hagrid doesn’t speak. Instead, he turns his head away, refusing to meet Sirius’s eyes.

Sirius, ever relentless, doesn’t back down. "A bit of advice from a friendly convict; time passes faster in this hellhole if you talk."

"I’ve nothin’ ter say ter you," Hagrid growls, his voice dangerous.

"I know you think I killed them," Sirius replies evenly. His tone is calm, almost resigned. "I good as did. But the guards whispered before you even got here. They say you’re here because of students being petrified. I’m not stupid enough to believe you actually killed anyone. But something in Hogwarts is targeting the kids." Sirius’ voice drops to a whisper, heavy with desperation. "Is the boy safe?"

Hagrid turns his head again, his voice dripping with disgust. "Unfortunately for you, the boy lives."

"I know he lives," Sirius snaps, his tone sharp. "Is he safe?"

Hagrid hesitates, thinking of Dumbledore’s recent dismissal from Hogwarts. The board of governors voted him out after Hermione went under. Not that the board of governors gave two shits about Hermione. Without Dumbledore there, Harry is exposed, vulnerable in ways Hagrid doesn’t want to think about. Slowly, his anger softens, replaced by a deep, gnawing worry.

“He’s like his mother,” Hagrid murmurs into the gloom of the cells, his voice heavy with affection. “Kind, empathetic, and a bit cheeky when he needs ter be.”

For the first time in eleven years, Sirius feels tears sting his eyes, the words cutting through his despair like a blade.

Hagrid continues, his voice quieter now. “He plays Quidditch like James—only he’s a Seeker. And he’s brilliant at it. Does well in classes, too. He’s got his father’s courage, through and through.”

Sirius’s voice wavers as he asks again, for the final time, "Is he safe?"

Hagrid meets his gaze, his own grief barely concealed. “No,” he says, his words laced with bitterness. “He’ll never be safe again. No thanks to you.”

Sirius remains silent until the human guards return, their heavy footsteps echoing through the grim halls. They stop at Hagrid’s cell, unlocking the door with a loud clang. One of them is an auror Sirius recognized. Moody.

“Harry Potter cleared your name,” Moody says gruffly, “Albus Dumbledore and the board have asked we escort you back to Hogwarts, Hagrid.”

“Harry?” Hagrid gasps, taking in a deep breath. “How?”

Moody flicks a look back to Sirius cell, knowing exactly who Sirius is, before glancing back to Hagrid as the half giant stood up. “It seems Potter has once again defeated a dark wizard. I might as well set up a desk for him at the Ministry, he’s got more balls than half my team.”

No one sees Sirius’ mouth lift into a smile in the shadows.

As Hagrid is escorted out, his massive frame stooped under the weight of the air thick with dementor despair, Sirius finally speaks.

“I’m glad I gave Harry to you that night,” he says.

Hagrid pauses mid-step, his shoulders tensing. For a moment, he doesn’t turn, doesn’t respond. Moody places a hand on Hagrid’s forearm, glaring back at Sirius’ wasted form. Then, without looking back, Hagrid lets Moody and the guards lead him away into the shadows.

A few weeks later, Sirius asked the Minister of Magic politely for the crossword.

And the rest of this is history.

[remma-demma]

I’m actually scared of alienating some of my followers and moots with all the trans discourse I’ve been steeping quietly in and contemplating, but… I’m trying to not let being scared shut me up about this. That, in and of itself, is erasure and silencing.

Fuck staying quiet. Trans men and mascs deserve a voice, and we, as a group, are not oppressing or invalidating anyone else by using that voice. (Obviously there are shithead exceptions!! Anyone can be an asshole.)

I really hope that if I ever speak about any of this in the future, that people recognize that it’s not ever, ever trans femininity as a concept I have an issue with. It’s people who

- try to divide the community

- are reinventing gender essentialism from the ground up but make it trans

-police other people’s identities and decide for them what oppression they must face because of a tiny set of superficial traits

- simply. Don’t understand what intersectionality means.

- disregard and invalidate anyone who doesn’t fit a very specific (binary, rich, white, abled, flawlessly passing) idea of what it means to be trans.

None of those things are specific or exclusive to one identity. There just happens to be a community of transfems who are currently espousing many of these ideas as gospel. They are understandably defensive because of real actual transmisogyny they face. But other trans people are not your enemy. Accusing anyone and everyone who tries to point these flaws out as radical transmisogynists is simply not true. Pointing out bigotry is not bigotry in itself.

I don’t want the trans community to constantly be at each other’s throats. We each have to sit down and think if we ever catch ourselves blaming an entire other marginalized group for our issues. That’s just fascism babes.

[snoopychris]

dilf!chris is struggling and needs younger!readers help

chris sighed as his four year old rejected his food again. he felt like he had made every possible meal by now. eggs, pancakes, waffles, he even went out of his way to call his mom for a french toast recipe. “owen, buddy. hey i need you to eat.” he frowns, ruffling the kids hair. “i’ve made you everything by now! i can’t make you much more… we don’t have much more. i’m gonna be eatin all this food for multiple meals.” he whispers. he knew that owen didn’t understand much, but he still tried. owen huffed and crossed his arms, shaking his head.

“cocoa puffs!” he whines, pouting his big brown eyes at his father. owen, otherwise a spitting image of chris, had his mothers eyes. it was the only feature he seemed to have of hers. chris sighs again as he nods in defeat, grabbing the cereal box from the top of the fridge. he serves a small portion in an equally small bowl for the boy, but groans when he’s opens the fridge and discovers he’s out of milk. that damn french toast. he glances outside to determine if it was worth going out with a toddler. when he sees the snow falling, he decides against it.

“sorry bud. guess you’ll have to eat it dry.” he mumbles, giving the boy an apologetic kiss on the head. owen frowns at the sight, pushing the cereal away too. chris’ frown grows and if anyone were to see the two boys pouting at that moment they’d know they were related. “owen.” he speaks sternly, his patience suddenly flying out the window into the storm. owen’s little lip trembles at his dad’s tone. chris never yells. he’s never mean. he swore to be everything his dad wasn’t. tears form in the poor boys eyes. he’s about to break down. chris tries his best to prevent the situation by pulling him into his arms, rubbing the back of his head. “hey… it’s okay. we’ll go buy some milk later and you can have that for lunch yeah?” he mumbles, running fingers through the boys hair. when owen begins to reply, he’s cut off by a knock on their door.

owen hops off his chair and begins running towards the door, his little feet going slower than he hopes. “mommy! daddy mommy’s here!” he yells. chris only frowns cause he knows that no, owen’s mom definitely isn’t there. as much as he wishes that she was on the other side, he knew that there was no way. he catches up to the boy and moves him aside gently.

“no bud it’s not mommy. move over so i can open the door yeah?” chris whispers, slowly opening the door. he’s shocked when you’re on the other side, a big tupperwear in your hands. “hey, kid. what are you doin here? it’s storming out there, don’t tell me you came all the way over here to return an old container of mine? unless you’re just using it as an excuse for something else which… just isn’t the best time right now.” he asks, moving aside to let you in. you shake your head as you walk in, pushing your hood off your head.

“no i um… actually made like… way too much chicken noodle soup last night. my dad told me to bring some over.” you smile, placing it on the table. you kneel down to be eye level with owen, noticing his messy hair. “y’just wake up or something? why’s that hair a mess?” you joke, glancing up towards chris. you smile at him, his hair messy just like his toddlers. owen giggles at your words, tumbling towards the container on the counter.

“daddy, soup?” he whispers, batting his eyes at his father. chris chuckles and nods, taking the container to the kitchen and serving the young boy some. a genuine smile runs across chris’ face when owen begins happily eating, enjoying every bite. chris sends you a look. you can’t tell what it’s for at first, but you understand when chris speaks.

“thank you… he hasn’t wanted to eat anything yet.” he whispers, looking over all the other food on his kitchen counter. “you hungry?” his smile grows when you nod and begin to dig into some of the food sitting out.

dividers by @issysh3ll !!

a/n: dilf!chris i adore you

taglist(reply or message to be added!): @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @forgottxen @blahbel668 @ivyyyyyysposts @h0e4fictionalme-n @riasturns @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @allylovescody @ribread03 @mattg1rl @cheesecakedolll @chrislova @ikyoudreamofme @ayesha-eroticaa @ivysturnss @slutformatt17

[cherryswisherz]

GLORIA [verse one]

♱ CONTAINS: kissing and cursing das it

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: PAZZI MINI SERIES ONNA HOE okay so like the vision is pazzi reminiscing on memories of their relationship. shoutout anon for the request

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

❝i met her when i was off the porch as a teenager, she said one day i would right my wrongs and see paper❞

“BUECKERS!” Micah yells my name as I approach the benches near the basketball court. 

I’m 15 minutes late but everyone should be used to that by now. By now, being late is my trademark so none of my friends look bothered. In fact, almost everyone is smiling as they dap me up and say hello. 

Everyone except the only person in the group that I hadn’t seen before. Some girl with bug eyes. 

Okay, so they aren’t big eyes. But they are big, brown eyes that look at me like she wants nothing more than my head on the chopping block. 

“Yo, who’s this?” I nod my head towards the girl who’s shooting me the literal death glare. 

“This is Azzi.” Micah slings an arm around Azzi's shoulder and she shrugs him off with a huff. “She’s my cousin. She just moved here.”

“Can she hoop?” I ask. 

“She’s standing right here and she would appreciate it if you didn’t speak about her like she wasn’t.” Azzi snatches the ball from my hands and begins walking to the court. “And I thought the movie was White Men Can’t Jump?”

I have no choice but to laugh at her insinuation. Meeting her on the court, I snatch my ball back. “It’s a good thing I’m a woman then, huh?” I say.

“Oh? You got game white girl?”

“Like you’ve never seen before.” 

“Show me then.”

“Check.” 

And the game began.

❝we started out young, lookin' for some identity, made a thousand mistakes, but never did we lack chemistry❞

“PAIGE!” Azzi’s chasing after me. “Will you just wait for a a fucking second?”

Every fiber of my being is telling me to keep walking and never stop, but we’re in a hotel for state and she’s screaming my name. If someone complains, coach is gonna kill me. 

I stop walking and shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Relax, Bueckers.

I pivot on my foot and stare at the girl in front of me.

If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d tell her how beautiful she is. With her frizzy french braids and her tie-dye t-shirt and her St. Patricks Day socks. But complimenting her would only make this whole situation even more awkward, and if it gets any more awkward I might off myself. 

So, instead of telling Azzi everything I’ve wanted to tell her since I’d met her, I speed walk back to our room grabbing her arm in the process. 

I’ve never been one for serious conversations and Azzi and I’s friendship isn’t necessarily one where we have too many of them. But tonight, I thought I saw something. 

Something in her eyes said, ‘it isn’t just you.’ 

God, I couldn’t have been any more wrong.

Shutting the door, I turn to her and make it a point to never take my eyes off the lamp behind her. 

“I’m sorry.”

She furrows her eyebrows and cocks her head a little to the side. “You’re sorry?” she sounds confused, which is confusing me. 

If she doesn’t want an apology then what the fuck does she want?

“Yes?”

“For what?”

For kissing you. For reading this whole thing wrong. For ruining our friendship and possibly losing us State because there’s no fucking way I’m gonna be able to focus tomorrow.

“For everything.”

All of a sudden, she’s not across the room for me anymore. She’s right in front of me, smacking me hard on the back of my head.

“OW!” I duck my head and slid under her raised arm. “What the fuck, Azzi?”

“You’re so stupid!” She shouts.

“How the fuck am I stupid for apologizing to you?”

We’re both yelling at each other, which to anyone else, may seem like a bad thing. But Azzi and I get our best communication done during our screaming matches. 

Don’t ask me why… It just is what it is.

“Because I don’t want a fucking apology, Paige!”

“Well, the fuck do you want then?”

“YOU!”

Record. Scratch.

“What?” I’m not yelling anymore. I’m actually speaking so low that I almost don’t hear myself. “What did you say?”

“I was trying to tell you, but you kep-”

I cut her off, “Say it again, Azzi.”

She grins like the Cheshire cat, “I want you.”

“What does that mean, though?”

“Holy fuck, you’re actually dumb.” She rolls her eyes, “I like you too, Paige.”

I’ve waited to hear that for almost a year. 

A year of staring when she isn’t looking. A year of moments that I wondered if she held as close to her as I did. A year of wanting her- no, needing her in ways that seem too mature for a 17 year old girl.

A part of me thinks she’s joking. Or she’s just trying to make me feel better…

I think about the kiss we shared 2 minutes ago. Her soft lips on mine, her in my lap on the bed next to me, grinding on my lap, driving me insane. 

I think of her scrambling off me and saying stop and the guilt that has sat on my chest since.

“But-” The sentence dies in my mouth and tears well in my eyes, “But when we kissed-” I point at her “You said stop.”

Azzi’s arms fly up before plopping back to her side, “Because I don’t wanna fuck you the night before the state championship!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Azzi mocks me, “If you would have just waited 30 seconds, I would have told you that.”

Azzi Fudd likes me back. The girl I’ve been feining for, likes me back.

Suddenly, I’m aware of the chance to be a jackass, and of course, I have to take it.

I walk over to her and nudge her shoulder, “You liikkkee meeee.” I sing

She laughs and shoves me away, “Get away from me.”

“You liiikkke meeee and you liked when I kissed yooouuuu”

She crawls back in bed and uses the comforter to hide her smile, “Go to bed, Paige.”

I crawl in bed, on top of her and kiss all over her face, relishing in the fact that Azzi fucking Fudd likes me back.

❝i was in love with you, didn't know what it was with you, kiss you in back of the class just to get a buzz with you❞

“Ms. Bueckers.” Ms. Jackson says. “Put your phone up, before it becomes my phone.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jackson.” I flash her a grin and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t even need to me on my phone anymore anyway. 

Azzi and I’s plan is already set. 

My eyes never leave the clock. Counting the seconds until they become a minute, until eventually a minute begins five. 

My hand shoots in the air. “Can I go see my counselor?”

Ms. Jackson never turns from the board, her back still to the class as she groans before saying, “Get out, Paige.” 

“Love you too, Ms. Jackson.” I smile and dip out of the classroom, making my way across campus to the gym.

“Finally.” Azzi groans, ball already in hand. “How do you make the plans and still come late?”

“Shut up,” I throw my bag down and walk over to her. ‘Gimme kiss.” 

She ducks away from me, laughing, “I thought we were gonna play one-on-one?”

“We were.” I nod my head, “But you look so good,” I smile and grab her hips, pulling her closer. 

She gives me a peck and tries to pull away, but a peck is never enough, so I chase her lips and she drops the ball, wrapping her arms around my neck. 

In a few months I’m gonna graduate and go to UCONN and she’s still gonna be here. We’re gonna be almost 2,000 miles apart, and I don’t know how I’m gonna survive without her but I’m not gonna think about it right now. 

Right now, I’m gonna do everything but fuck my girlfriend in the middle of my high school's gym.

♱TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

@darlindayss @his-loss @dreatopia

[thenightshadowqueen]

Death for a Dollar watchthrough thoughts

Holy shit, this was unhinged. I loved it so much. (That’s too many italics, but I don’t care.) I’m kind of speechless; the number of times I actually covered my mouth in shock (usually because of Sam, but Tom was insane in this one, too) was staggering. I adore this play.

Anyway, I’m going to get into my actual thoughts instead of just rambling.

Just to start, ‘Death for a Dollar’ is a great title, so kudos to whoever came up with that

Oh my god, Hank and Gareth 2.0!!!!

“You don’t know what he did for this place.” “That—Tell me!” This is off to a strong start

“Where was your showmanship?” I love it when they work mini games of Change into the plays

Mr. Twilliger is an incredible name

“This is me being the bartender, getting the stories out of the customers, so they reveal things, and then they want to drink more because they’re reliving their trauma.” I mean, it’s a valid tactic to get more money; yay, capitalism! (sarcasm)

AJ forcing Tom to be musical… Caesar and Juliet, anyone?

I love that Luke knows off the top of his head how many keys a piano has (I’m honestly not surprised)

Is Sam’s hair a little longer than normal? Because it looks really good

“I got three keys, three teeth, three toes. I’ve been through a lot.” I love Tony the piano player (who was also referred to as Bill once)

“My mind can take an awful lot; there’s not a lot in there” I love him, actually

“You ain’t trying to seduce him!” “But I get bigger tips when I do!” Sam

Can I just thank whoever edited this for giving us that little shot of Tom laughing? Because I love it when we get to see him actually laugh.

I love Mrs. Prostitute (and I love Tom for including positive representation of sex work)

“This is what feminism looks like” West End Big Boys flashbacks

“My mum is crazy” SAM

Also I think my favourite thing about the microphones is that we can hear them laughing so much more clearly (brought to you by Luke, on this occasion)

I adore Sam’s weird little harmonica thing he does in western-genre pieces

Ooh, younger versions of characters being played by different actors; I don’t think we’ve seen that before

I love Sam being confused and Tom’s response being to start clapping

I love Sam being annoyed and retaliating at AJ with a bald joke

“I told my daddy that I was real fast with a pistol, and that maybe I could go and work in law enforcement, but he wouldn’t have it.” “No! No son is going to go work for the government!” AJ trying to paint his father as the villain and Sam trying his very best to make the audience like him… This is gorgeous

“Telling a man if he’s allowed to own people or not” okay, never mind, I take that back

I don’t know why Sam picked the Watson-clown voice, but I’m glad he did (also I love that the voice made Luke break)

“Many Fingers Pussy” Jesus Christ, Tom

“They thought I had the devil in me” god damn it, now I feel bad for Bill

Sam is so good at playing wide-eyed innocent characters

“God, I wish they had that law in America in the modern day” I wish I had enough faith in people’s judgement to wish that

“I didn’t know you could do magic” I love it when Sam causes trouble

I can never see a reference to a one-man band like that and not think of Mary Poppins

“I can’t wait to hear those four white boys do those accents” oh dear

Luke speaking Spanish!!!

You know what, that vaguely Mexican accent could have been a hell of a lot worse, so well done, Sam

“So you can work on a farm, or you can jerk people off” oh my god, Sam

“He offered me a job” and then AJ realising what it sounded like and walking it way back

Tom entering the scene and waiting for a moment to join in and then Sam just throwing him in without warning is amazing

“I work here jerking people off” Tom

“She said she helps people el secrete-o” SAM

“Hand stuff Jesus is okay with” Sam

I don’t know why the fact that Tom knows little bits of Spanish brings me so much joy, but it does

Holy shit, Luke speaking Spanish with an American accent might be my new favourite thing

I love Maria, the bank robber/prostitute

You know what, I get Bill; the little, slightly mosquitoy “yeah”s are alluring

Half-kiss!!!

“A beautiful flower turns to a crooked leaf” I fucking adore AJ’s weird little sayings

“It’s a well-known expression” and then the advert with the merch saying ‘more well-known expressions’

“Something went worse than wrong. It went really wrong.” Gorgeous.

Sam’s slip oh my god

I know I already said Sam’s hair looks good, but Sam’s hair looks really good

I already said it but I will never be over Luke’s Spanish-in-an-American-accent. Never.

“I’ll keep my hands moist for you” it seems like Tom like using the word moist (the moisturiser fairy comes to mind)

I love audience participation

I’m sorry, as someone who struggles with mental math, that quick multiplication from Luke was impressive

“Got a lot of spunk in you, have you?” I love Tom using his English degree to make dirty jokes (obviously this doesn’t require an English degree; I just mean that it’s a wordplay joke)

I love Sam making sure to bring the story full-circle, with Tony losing his teeth and toes

Jesus, Tom

“Have we invented the electric chair yet?” I looked it up, and it looks like it was invented in the 1880’s, so not quite, but it wasn’t nearly so far off as I thought it might be

“I’ma travelling electric chair salesman” … honestly, I’m not even surprised at this point

Tom is right; this is really dark

I don’t think Sam knows how electric chairs work (affectionate)

Okay who the fuck let Sam wink like that

“Well, I guess that’s the end of the Shoot from the Hip show” I love when they get meta

“What could go wrong with giving a southern American teenager a pair of guns? I’ve got school tomorrow!” Holy fucking shit; may I present Sam Russell, the king of risky jokes

“…when we faked my death…” I love Tom so much

“I think this is the first time we’ve used the principle of the unreliable narrator” I actually love this so much; this is such a cool concept, especially for an improv show

Tom is unhinged in this one and I love it

I love this so much

I already made as post saying this, but it bears repeating: this is BUS levels of insane

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 19 | 20 | 21

masterlist

“it’s not that complicated, though is it?” sarah pushed on, “i mean, you like him, don’t you?”

your head snapped to look at her, completely taken aback: was it that obvious? her face filled with curiosity and a glint of mischief as she ushered you to answer.

“i… i think so,” your voice barely above a whisper as you finally admitted it aloud. saying it made it feel more real causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

“oh my god,” her tone equally filled with shock and delight, “you like him!”

realisation hit you, your best friend was smart… too smart. she didn’t actually know if you liked her brother, but in stating her assumption as fact she had managed to encourage a confession from you.

“don’t make it a big deal!” you said quickly, as she clamped her mouth shut with her palm, a grin poking through, “it already feels complicated enough.”

sarah laughed, sitting up, “how is it complicated? i mean you’re into him… rafe’s into you. seems pretty straightforward to me.”

“rafe’s into me?” you echoed. of course, he’d confessed it to you earlier, but you were a strong believer in actions speak louder than words. hearing it aloud, from someone else, ignited butterflies in your stomach.

“he doesn’t just post anyone’s arse,” sarah burst out laughing as you took a pillow from behind you, swatting her with it, “okay, okay! i’m joking, i just mean he seems different around you, i’ve noticed it.”

you bit your lip, nodding slightly, “it’s just new, and messy, and we’re still figuring it out…”

there was a silent pause between you both, allowing your thoughts to simmer, “i’m sorry… for lying about it. when you asked me earlier, i said there was nothing going on—”

“hey, you don’t owe me anything,” she smiled, holding your cheek, “it’s a weird situation, i get it. if it makes you happy, i’ll support you… even if it is with my brother.”

her words helped relieve the weight building in your chest, “thank you.”

“just promise me,” sarah started, her tone more serious suddenly, “you tell me if he screws this up. immediately.” a chuckle erupted from you, smiling as she continued, “i’m serious, y/n. if he hurts you, i will absolutely kick his ass.”

“deal,” the pair of you shook hands, cementing the ‘deal’, an immense feeling of gratitude settled between you.

“good,” she returned to lying back on the bed, pulling the blanket over herself. “now, go to sleep. i need my best friend looking fresh and fabulous at my show, tomorrow.”

“love you, sarah,” you mumbled, as you settled back in the covers and turned on your side.

“love you too.”

what a success: you’d told your best friend about your antics with her brother, and she didn’t threaten to saw your head off… you highly doubted you’d have the same outcome when it came to your cousin, but that was a problem for another day.

johnbr

liked by yourusername, sarahcameron and 52 others

johnbr wishing my darling @/sarahcameron immense good luck for today, you will smash it! ❤️

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sarahcameron i love you ❤️

heywardpope do us pogues proud!

itscleo she’ll smash it, no doubt

jjmaybank sarah putting the pogues on the MAP

the next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the curtains of the hotel room, casting a warm glow in the scattered clothes and open suitcases from the whirlwind of sarah’s preparation. you were sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping coffee, while sarah hummed to herself, pacing back and forth as she readied herself for the fashion show.

a knock at the door pulled both of you from your respective tasks, sarah glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, “room service?”

you shook your head. “i didn’t order anything.”

“can you get it?” she shrugged, returning to what she had been doing.

you set your coffee down and crossed the room, opening the door to reveal rafe. he was dressed casually, his hair tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed. he gave you a crooked grin as his eyes swept over you.

“morning,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “miss me?”

you smiled, but before you could respond, sarah’s voice cut through the room, “who is it?”

you hesitated for a moment, stepping aside to let rafe in. he walked in casually, but the moment sarah saw him, her eyes narrowed.

“of course,” she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she glared at him. “you couldn’t even wait until after the show, could you?”

you watched as rafe glanced between you and sarah, clearly confused by her sudden hostility.

you sighed, stepping closer to him. “she knows,” you said softly, you voice low enough that sarah wouldn’t overhear as she continued getting ready.

his eyes widened slightly, “knows? about us?”

“yeah,” you admitted, biting your lip, “i told her last night. she kind of figured it out after… well, after the post.”

rafe groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “great,” he muttered, “and how mad is she?”

“not that mad,” sarah cut in, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation. she stepped closer, her arms remained crossed but her expression was softer now. “just annoyed that you couldn’t keep it under wraps for, like, five minutes. you do realise your ‘fan girls’ are already sniffing around about this, right?”

rafe shrugged, leaning against the wall of the hotel room. “it’s not like i planned it, sarah. i just posted a silly picture. i didn’t think it’d turn into this big thing.”

“of course you didn’t,” sarah said, rolling her eyes, “but you’re not exactly known for thinking things through, are you?”

“hey!” he protested, but his tone was light. he glanced at you, as you watched the siblings bicker in front of you, his lips twitching into a smirk, “well, at least she didn’t threaten to kill me.”

sarah sighed dramatically. “don’t tempt me,” but her lips quirked into a small smile, her irritation fading, “look, i don’t care what’s going on between you two as long as you don’t mess it up. and rafe? if you hurt her, i swear to god —“

“i know,” he interrupted, holding his hands up in surrender, “you’ve got a whole speech ready, i’m sure.”

“damn right i do,” sarah muttered, before turning back to her mirror, effectively ending the conversation.

rafe took the opportunity to step closer to you, you back pressed up against his chest as his large bicep covered the front of your torso, pulling you close. “so… she’s cool with it?” he questioned, in between the kisses he was placing down your neck.

you nodded, feeling the warmth of his touch, as you turned to look at him.

small smiles painted the faces of you both, as rafe leaned in. your heart skipped a beat, and you felt all your anxieties about the situation melt away.

“go and get ready,” you started, attempting to pull out of his grasp — it was no use — as you giggled, “and i’ll see you at the show, yeah? save you a seat.”

your story

rafecam

liked by yourusername, sarahfan101 and 62,081 others

rafecam thanks 4 dressing me @/loewe

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loewe our pleasure ❤️

yourusername bro looking fine asf

sarahfan101 bro? 🤔

user3 she ain’t fooling no one

ilovesarah they're just friends!

user my MANNNNNNNN

user2 WOOF WOOF

boykelce lookin good bro 😎

sarahupdates

liked by user, sarahfan101 and 48,231 others

sarahupdates rafe and y/n heading to the loewe show after party!

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user that should be ME!

sarahfan101 i think they did it but i just can’t prove it

user2 why is she always there!

user3 fr go away

ilovesarah it’s so cute that sarah has such supportive people around her ❤️

user2 she’s no real friend she’s just there to get with rafe

a/n: got this written with an hour to spare, we’re almost done with the LA segment so we can go back to obx 😜

thinking this will be about 30 chapters total?

i already have ideas of what i want to write next - i’ll be more planned out next time, this one was just a test… i’m going with the flow

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101 @akobx @lossfairy @marleymarleymarleymarley @jjmaybankmylovee @mbella607 @scream4mami @mrsdrewstarkeyy @honeyluvsatj

[read-write-thrive]

Charles Rowland Week Day One — Cricket Bat/The Brawn

There were a lot of unexpected downsides to being a ghost. Sure, he got a best mate and a “life” he loved out of dying, but it wasn’t all sunshine rainbows and ice cream. And not just the major things like being chased or attacked on cases, neither! Small things were just as bad, especially when they snuck up on you

Take the mirror thing, for example. It’s really not an issue, right? Charles wasn’t vain or anything, he didn’t need to see himself in the mirror constantly. But you don’t realise how much you look in the mirror until it’s gone, really. All of a sudden your only perceptions of yourself is what you can see looking down and what you can remember. Charles had done his best to not think about it at all, but was rather suddenly confronted with his image issues about a year into being dead.

Well, “suddenly” isn’t quite right. Truth is, they’d just found a place to call theirs and were set on fixing it up. They hadn’t settled on a name for their detective agency yet, but they were getting there. At the moment all they were doing was cleaning the space as best they could to try and make it feel more homey.

You see, the place was, looking back, their reward for their first case. They’d taken to wandering London, just seeing the sights really, when recently they noticed the building. In slight disrepair, sure, but the weirder part was the poltergeist wreaking havoc on anyone who came near it. The living (un?)consciously avoided the place, but the boys hadn’t heard the gossip and were the next victims to its destruction. They couldn’t be killed, of course, but they could still be thrown about (and injured, apparently! Blasted iron—).

Edwin had already picked up a magical tome on their travels (which he’d then casually carried in his overcoat—Charles, who was still struggling to reimagine his clothing, was only a little jealous, he swore) and was thankfully able to use it to banish the poltergeist. They both took a hit or two, but Charles had realised early on that he needed to take the attention off Edwin in order for him to actually use magic. Charles had quickly rallied against the poltergeist, distracting it and taking the rest of the blows that came with that. Well, he’d tried to tackle the poltergeist first, get on the offense and all that, but that hadn’t gone well. So then he just took the hits until Edwin did his job.

Edwin, for whatever reason, had been right pissed about it in the days since. He kept his sentences short, kept his nose in that bloody book, and was overall being a cranky bastard. Charles was still sore from the fight (how ridiculous that ghosts could even be sore) and was frankly fed up with it. Time to tackle it head-on.

Though he could’ve taken the empty chair on the other side of the desk, Charles decided that being up close and personal was better for this talk. He marched up to the desk and sat on the ledge of it, arms crossed and looking down at Edwin, feet nudging the base of his chair.

Edwin didn’t even look up from the book, “Yes, Charles?”

Charles carefully took the book (bookmarked it, naturally, he wasn’t a monster) and set it aside as he spoke, “We need to have a chat, mate. Now, if you’ve got the time.”

Edwin let the book be taken, though his (stupidly broad, how does a sixteen year old even get built like that?? too fit for his own good and he doesn’t even know it, the wanker) shoulders remained tense. He quirked an eyebrow as he looked up at Charles, “Since you’ve taken my reading, I suddenly have the time. What is it you wish to speak about?”

Charles used his hand to motion at Edwin’s face, “All this. I get that you’re angry with me, though I have no clue why, but I need you to come out and say it, yeah? I’m not a mind reader.”

Sighing, Edwin properly faced Charles, “Fine. If that would please you. I am unhappy with how you handled our encounter with the poltergeist, and I was hoping you would apologise for it. I see that will not be happening.”

“Apologise?” Charles questioned, bewildered, “What the bloody hell did I do? I distracted the thing while you used your fancy magic to get rid of it!”

Edwin remained unimpressed, “I can handle myself, Charles. Your display of… masochism, shall we say— was unwarranted and reckless. We had no way of knowing what the poltergeist could do.”

“And? What, I was just supposed to let the thing do equal damage to both of us? Or let you take all the hits? You’re the one with the bloody book, mate, least I could do was give you time to read it.” Charles huffed.

“And yet your soul is less tempered than mine, so it is extremely likely that you will succumb to injuries at a faster rate.” Edwin snapped back, hands steepled in front of him as if this were all just obvious facts.

Bewildered, Charles tried to clarify, “What are you saying? I can’t take the same damage as you? Seriously?”

Edwin’s eyes, usually steadfast in maintaining eye contact, flickered down Charles’s form, then back up to his face.

Charles knew what that meant. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten looks like that, in conversations like these. Every time he tried out for a sport, every time he tried to stand up to his dad, every time he tried to keep up with his mates. Charles knew he was twiggy, alright? He didn’t put on muscle like the other lads did even doing the same sports and eating the same school-provided meals. Hell, even when he tried going above and beyond in eating meat and lifting weights all he did was get lean, not properly muscley. A fact which everybody noticed.

As a result, he’d get these looks. Right rude looks. As if it was funny to think of him being strong or holding his own in scraps. There were a few times his mates would egg him on to fight some other bloke twice his size to try and embarrass him. Maybe it wasn’t so harmless, looking back, but Charles usually scraped by by changing it into a race or just talking his way out of it. He knew they wanted to see him take a beating, even if they framed it as him “proving” that he was stronger than he looked. They’d give him that same look every single bloody time, as if he had to be bluffing and they were thrilled to call him out on it.

This was made all the worse by his dad of course—his dad who outright laughed in his face any time he tried to stand up or fight back. His dad who left just enough visible bruises and scars to make it seem like Charles was out fighting every break and losing every single one of ‘em. The teachers took it as another sign of Charles being no-good and brushed off any time he wanted to get treatment or lenience for the injuries. The other boys would laugh at the bruises and such, asking what Charles did to piss off his foe. Asking why he kept fighting if he was so obviously always going to lose. Just look at him—how would a scraggy thing like him ever win a fight?

So yeah, maybe Charles was a bit defensive about how he looked and how strong he was. It was all the worse by the mirror thing—was he skinnier dead? How would he ever know for sure? To top it all off, he’s dead. Not exactly like there’s a gym for ghosts, is there? Well, not that they knew of yet at least. And with his luck, a ghost gym wouldn’t do anything either.

Point is, Charles was practically stuck in this stupid thin appearance for the rest of his ghostly days. And he hated it. He hated it every time he went to check a mirror and saw nothing, forcing himself to rely on his memory. He hated it every time he struggled to manifest better clothes—Edwin kept telling him to just visualise, right, but how was he supposed to do that when he’d avoided visualising himself at all for years? What if he made it worse by visualising? Maybe he was a bit bigger since dying! Some unconscious thing helping him out or some shite. He didn’t want to risk making himself any skinnier!

It was ridiculous, all of it. But Charles was not about to take that same bullshit from someone he thought was better than all that.

“What, I’m too skin and bones for ya? Too weak? C’mon, tell me. I can take it.” He really couldn’t, truth be told, but he was ready to bluff his way through the hurt like always.

Edwin’s face scrunched up, “What the devils are you talking about? We’re ghosts, Charles, our appearances are entirely subjective. Not to mention they have little very bearing on this situation.”

Now it was again Charles’s turn to be confused, though he was still hunched up on the defensive, “Then what? What is it?”

“I do not want to see you hurt, alright?” Edwin snapped, “We do not know how to fix any injuries you might have sustained and you were completely defenceless! I was trying to focus on locating and performing the proper spell and there you were, ready to be obliterated in front of my very eyes!”

Charles gave a slightly relieved sigh. Edwin looked displeased at this, but Charles started speaking before Edwin had a chance to continue, “You’re mad at me because I scared you, is that it? Mate, I’m perfectly fine! We got that fucker out of here and I’m perfectly a-ok! Here I was thinking I’d properly mucked something up—“

“I am serious, Charles—“

“So am I!” Charles planted his hands on Edwin’s shoulders, forcing complete eye contact, “Look, as soon as we can, we’ll get our hands on some weapons for me to use alongside your fancy magic books. Hell, maybe you can make me one for all we know on magic!”

Edwin again went to reply, but Charles wasn’t finished.

“I’m flattered you care, and thank you for looking out for me, but I promise I’m stronger than I look. Get me a bat or something and, with you and your magic, I’m happy to take on any future baddies we come across, yeah?”

Edwin sighed again, but it was clear his icy demeanour was melting, “I suppose we can have that be our next move, now that we have a headquarters for ourselves.”

Charles all but cheered, ecstatic to have actually resolved their little spat, “That’s the spirit! I’ll be the brawns, you be the brains, and our Ghostbusters agency will be brills!”

“For the hundredth time, Charles, we are not naming our detective agency after some film!…”

—

Day one of @charles-rowland-week in the books! I make no promises to have something for every day/prompt bc my life is a mess (as per usual) but I wanted to at least do one :) hope y’all enjoyed it !!

[razorblade180]

Archon Ranking

Charlotte:Aether! As a famous traveler with deep connections to other nations and their Archons, I have to ask, *pulls out pen and paper* who do you think the best Archon is among the ones you met?

Aether:…*looks around* I don’t know how, but it feels like they’re listening. I just know it’s going to get back to them.

Venti:*behind a house* Shhh

Archons:*nod silently*

Aether:This question isn’t exactly easy, it’s not impossible. The Raiden Shogun and Rex Lapis are out of the running.

Ei:(That’s fair…)

Zhongli:*slouches*

Charlotte:Well one of them did kick off a civil war, but why think little of the deceased Lord of Geo? Is it because you didn’t get the chance to know him enough.

Aether:…Yes. While I commend his diligence, I fear having such a strict and uncompromising approach to the concept of contracts lead to a few… rather unnecessary predicaments that could’ve been avoided by forming more open and new contracts with his people.

Zhongli:An interesting perspective. One that may or may not hold some merit. I won’t outright dismiss it, but some things must be set in stone.

Furina:Now I don’t mean to criticize such an enlightened individual, but as someone who actually had a national incident set in stone, I don’t think your plan had to have one.

Zhongli:Hmmm

Aether:The others are sorta tricky. I can’t find fault in how Nahida chose to conduct herself. Centuries of isolation by her own people and yet she still helped throughout history. Perhaps it would’ve been simpler for her to take a hands on approach and speak out against the injustices she felt, but she’s still a young and gentle god. I can’t blame her for feeling small.

Charlotte:I’ve read dozens or articles after Sumeru’s liberation. I gotta say some brought me to tears! Though she’s far older than us, I must say I don’t think it’s inappropriate to say asking such a feat is no different than expecting a child to stand up to an adult without ever being taught to do so. If anything, it makes it more amazing that she eventually did!

Aether:I agree. I’m very proud of her.

Nahida:*sniffles* Aw, I see. Suddenly I’m all warm inside.

Charlotte:Am I correct to say you’ve met the god of Anemo?

Aether:….

Charlotte:Off the record.

Aether:Yes. I’ve met them several times. As for on the record, the Anemo Archon may not be present often, his presence is always felt down to the blades of grass. From the very start he made a place made for his people, and lead by his people. A hands off approach not only not only fits the god of freedom, but is beneficial for the common man. Plus, it’s not like anyone feels abandoned. There’s countless records of their god returning to aid in times of need.

Charlotte:Make you wonder if he had any hand in the Storm Terror crisis.

Aether:I wouldn’t put it past them. My glider never seemed to fail a rookie like me when I needed it most.

Venti:*smiles smugly*

Zhongli:You still drink too much.

Venti:Because I have the time. You do too. Some might say, Liyue is more like Mondstadt these days.

Ei:No one is saying that.

Venti:And yet I still find it comical how much a certain someone put into retiring, just to live among his people with a normal occupation.

Mavukia:He…makes a point. To a degree. You both ended in the same spot surprisingly.

Zhongli:Sigh….

Aether: As for Furina and Mavuika… it feels wrong to praise one without the other. The Pyro Archon is a strong capable leader who’s very personable. Her plan was a bit more than crazy, but it had to be to face the abyss. Most importantly, she suffered alongside her people and sacrificed a lot in order to see her plan through. Things nobody should ever have to give up; like being an older sibling. She has my respect. Truly, no one fights alone with her around.

Mavukia:*smiles* If you ask me, he should share some of that praise with himself.

Aether:As for Furina, well, do I really have to tell you about her. To this day, people see her as a the Hydro Archon.

Charlotte:How could Fontainian’s not? Even with the truth discovered, it doesn’t change she’s been prevalent in our history.

Aether:While I don’t think I can say her leadership skills are as astute as other Archons, I personally can’t bring myself to say she isn’t brilliant. Furina did her job to the letter and never compromised it once for the sake of her people despite every single day wearing down her soul until she was in literal tears. I honestly don’t know what’s more impressive. Mavukia has always moved forward without faltering. That takes immense strength. Furina though, she doesn’t have that kind of strength. In a lot of ways, she did break and hesitate, yet she walked forward all the same. It’s both amazing and terrifying. Human Archons sure are interesting.

Charlotte:Maybe it’s our shared humanity that made them so strong in your eyes.

Aether:Maybe, but I think even archons in the traditional sense are more human than some give them credit. For instance, they’re all nosy enough to eavesdrop behind a house.

Venti:Ha, busted…

Furina walks out with a red face and eyes that tried to act serious but failed to do so thanks to their glossy gaze that struggled to hold back tears. She didn’t even know what to say and feared her voice might shake. Before she could try, Aether hugs her. She can only hug him back in frustration. It didn’t take long for Nahida to join. Meanwhile Mavukia and Ei walked out into view simply because there was no need to hide.

Aether:You guys are ridiculous.

Ei:True feelings are typically expressed when the subject isn’t around. I must admit, I wish you had said at least one positive thing.

Aether:No one can ever doubt that you care. Maybe you didn’t express it correctly, and very few people know your grief, but you are a good person. I mean that.

Ei:I appreciate your understanding. Perhaps in the future, many more will share a similar idea.

Charlotte:…*squints* Are the Anemo and Geo archon behind the house too?

Aether:Off the record?

Charlotte:*tosses pen and paper* I can keep a secret! I’ll make a contact if I have to! I just gotta know~

Venti:..*peeks head out* Hello!

Charlotte:I’ve seen you!!! You’re the drunk bard everyone likes even though he doesn’t pay his tab!

Venti:I pay my tab! It just keeps coming back.

Charlotte:*bounces with anticipation* Is the Lord of Geo with you? Hehehe~

Zhongli:…*sticks arm out*

Charlotte:DIRECTOR HU TAO’S FUNERAL CONSULTANT!?

Zhongli:Wha- she knew by my sleeve!?

Aether:I am going to be honest, wearing all brown and having a job that uses your encyclopedic knowledge of history is not a conspicuous disguise.

Venti:I told ya, you might as well of chose to be a miner. There’s dozens of those; much like there’s countless bards! So what if I sing an old song!? Nobody would bat an eye if you were good at digging.

Zhongli:Sigh…

[goddamnitmahtin]

How I think it would go if I ended up inside a tumbler dc x dp universe

Okay so falling through a portal into Crime Alley? Not the worst thing that’s ever happened. Definitely not the best either though. Phone? Gone. Money? Gone. Mental and emotional stability? Was gone before this ever happened. So this is fine…

The dark streets and the sun’s refusal to come out of the clouds literally ever would probably scare most people but honestly it was a nice vacation from bright light. The city itself was gods awful and hella unsafe but hey- it had aesthetic you know? The only thing that really made it hard to live here was the fact that no one wanted to hire me.

“You look like one of them Wayne kids. Don’t even bother with me. Just go back to your mansion and ask Brucie if you need cash.”

Ah. Well. I would if I actually was “one of them Wayne kids.” Alas I was not. Eventually I was rejected enough times that I started to contemplate whether or not “asking Brucie” would actually work. According to locals he seems ditzy enough and adopted more children than he could keep track of. Was it a stupid idea? Absolutely. Was I gonna try it anyways? Fuck yeah.

Anyways that’s how I ended up living in the walls of Wayne Manor for like a month.

…

To be honest? It wasn’t that hard to get in. I looked the part so to speak with black hair and blue eyes so when I hopped into the back seat of a fancy looking limo, the driver just kind of assumed? and drove me right to the manor.

It was late and it seemed like there wasn’t much staff in the house itself. Just some old butler guy that looked like he knew way too much. About what I couldn’t tell you but he had that vibe that he’s seen enough death to know when to not ask questions.

“Master Wayne?” I looked at the man. He totally knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. He had that look in his eye. But he was playing along.

“Uh yeah. I’m just gonna go grab some food real quick and then leave,” maybe if I just bounced from the joint after a meal he wouldn’t tell anyone?

The butler nodded, “I will prepare you a meal then and have it ready for you in the dining room.” Holy shit he was actually playing along for real. Okay well then.

After exploring the place a little, it seemed pretty empty at the moment, I went to the dining room and sure enough this butler guy had actually made me some food. And it was fucking good. After living on the streets for several months at this point, this was the best thing ever.

I ate as much as I could, shoveling food into my face. This was the first real meal I had been able to really eat since spawning into Gotham. Hell it was the first real meal since even before that.

After I ate as much as I could, I stole as many bread rolls I could fit into my pockets and was about to leave just like I had promised I would when I heard voices that did not belong to the butler guy.

I uh… well I didn’t make the best decision when I hopped through the wall to hide. I was expecting to find another room on the other side but no, these wall were thick and I could stand comfortably in the space between the plaster on either side of me, given I didn’t bump into a wire or two that was running along the studs.

I was planning to leave once the coast was clear but ended up passing out as the exhaustion of constantly fighting off muggers and evading goons from various villains (not me mention I hadn’t slept in nearly 72 hours) caught up with me.

After that I just kind of… forgot to leave? It was easy enough to get around the manor just inside the walls and whenever I did need to get somewhere in the manor where people could see me, I was most of the time mistaken for someone else who also lived there.

“Oh hey Dick,” said by a sleep deprived and slightly delirious man I later learned to be named Tim as he headed out one day.

“Tim go to bed,” said by a just as, if not more, sleep deprived man who was older than the rest that I figured was Bruce. He had been in the library and had seen me walk by.

I once got a wave from a blonde girl who seemed to be on a mission to get somewhere.

Only the butler who I learned was called Alfred seemed to really grasp that I was in the house at all. And I knew this because he kept leaving plates of food or cookies or even sometimes small handfuls of candies out for me to find. Sometimes he would even give the wall a little tap to tell me he left me something.

Life in the walls of Wayne Manor was alright enough. That was until I kind of… well I got bored. I figured that if I could pull off pretending to be one of them in passing and even for short conversations, why not try to up the wager a little? For fun.

So during one of the family dinners that they held together sometimes, I just kind of… sat down at the table. And started eating with everyone.

At first it was pretty easy to keep my head down and not be super noticeable. Bruce hardly looked up from his food and everyone else looked too tired to really think about how many people were actually at the table.

That was until a tank of a man walked in and sat at the table, late for the function. He reeked of death. The amount of anger and grief this guy had oozed out of him and it was honestly suffocating.

“Hey B, when did you adopt another one?” Jason asked as he sat down.

“I didn’t-?” Bruce looked up from his food and scanned the table, his eyes eventually falling on me, “… who are you?”

Shit

“Ah- well…” I didn’t get to really explain before Bruce spoke again.

“And why didn’t anyone tell me someone was in our house?”

“Ah well I just kinda assumed,” said Tim.

That got a lot of murmurs of agreement from the rest of the table, Damian giving a pointed, “Given your track record Father, you cannot blame us.”

Bruce sighed and looked back at me, a very tired man, “What are you doing here?”

“I uh… I’m here for the food mostly.” It was all I could really think to say at the moment.

The air hung thick with tension as we all sat silently for a longer time than I was really comfortable with. That was until I heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys, sorry for being so late. I would have gotten a ride from Jason but I had to work a little later than I wanted to.”

Motherfucker.

I whipped my head around to look at the man that just walked in, “DANNY?!”

[mikuluvu]

ooo could you please do anti curly x nurse reader but reader is not one to put up with the way curly acts. Like he could be getting assholeish with her but it’s like sometimes he sees a look on her face and he kinda changes his attitude. Also it’s just mostly for her she doesn’t care what curly does to jimmy though💀. Hope you’re having a good morning day or night😊.

A/n: Eat shit Jimmy.

Anti Curly x nurse!reader

Curly was a bastard, period. The kind of man who made people wonder how the universe hadn’t folded in on itself just to spit him out. He was abrasive, arrogant, and wore his disdain for others like a second skin. He didn’t need anyone.

Except, apparently, you.

“Sit still,” you said sharply, setting down a tray of bandages and antiseptics. “Unless you’re hoping to bleed out.”

He sneered, reclining further in the chair. “I’m fine. A little blood never killed anyone.”

“You’ll be the first,” you shot back, unfazed.

Most people flinched under that tone of his. Not you. Most people would wonder how you would do that.

“Why do you even care?” he muttered, glaring at you as you worked on the gash along his forearm.

You didn’t answer immediately, just hearing him speak makes your head hurt, so you instead focused on patching him up.

Finally, you leaned back, crossing your arms. “Because if I don’t patch you up, who will?”

He opened his mouth, no doubt ready to toss out some snarky retort, but you gave him a look. That look. The one that froze his tongue and made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

It wasn’t anger or fear. It was disappointment.

“Don’t give me that,” he grumbled, glancing away.

“Then don’t act like a child,” you said simply, starting to clean up the supplies.

He hated how easily you could flip the script on him. He was supposed to be in control, the one setting people on edge, not the other way around. But something about you—your refusal to get fooled around, your unwillingness to put up with his crap—kept him on his toes. And that damn look of yours made him want to…what? Apologize?

Ridiculous.

“Why do you stick around, anyway?” he asked, softer this time. “Most people would’ve left.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. For a moment, he thought you might actually leave. But then you sighed.

“Because someone has to make sure you don’t destroy yourself,” you said. “Even if you’re too fucking stubborn to see it.”

For once, he didn’t have a comeback. It made you smirk

And for the first time in a long time, he felt something other than anger or spite.

Maybe it was respect. Or maybe it was just you.

The next day, when Jimmy limped into the medbay muttering about Curly, you didn’t even blink.

"What the fuck is his problem?" he groaned,

“He’s your problem, not mine,” you said, waving him off.

But later, when Curly showed up with a fresh bruise and a sheepish look, you smirked.

“You’re late,” you said, gesturing to the chair.

He sat without a word, for once letting you patch him without opening his annoying mouth

Maybe, just maybe, he was learning.

a/n: Curly beating Jimmy up is so hot

Thank you for reading! Reblogs w/comment is appreciated! Support me through my ko-fi (pinned post)

[ladyloveandjustice]

Time for more updates! I listed them out here.

Likes Women

Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 anime- nahhhh man, it doesn’t like women, treating them significantly worse than the manga it adapted. I have a lot of issues, from how thoroughly it shafted Winry, to how it gave Riza nothing, to Dante being every cliche about a female villain they could fit in here, the treatment of Rose leaving a horrible taste in my mouth (I see arguments of what happened to her being a critique of imperialism, however I have yet to see anyone justify why the show had to continue to have her kidnapped and assaulted and treated as an afterthought after that) and some truly rancid one-off episodes.

I break down my problems with it at the end of the little FMA 2003 liveblog I did, though it’s phrased super obnoxiously because I wrote it…oh my god twelve years ago oh god I’m crumbling to dust as we speak. But I break down the basics with the “top gross things” post I did (ignore any thoughts on race I had no place writing bout that tbh). The tag anime: turn your zombie mom into ethanol also goes into more of my thoughts, though again, very obnoxious and the deeper you dig the more ancient and obnoxious it will get lmao.

I have several ancient posts on how it treated Winry in particular, as she was my fave and was done so dirty, and I think they hold up fairly well. Here’s a post I made about the Winry-Roy plotline, and a good response by another user. Then we have this post, ignore horrible art.

(Please don’t try to spark a debate with any of this stuff, it’s years and years old, I went through so much drama and legit panic attacks, and I’m not committed anymore. Love 2003 and think it likes women if you want, that’s fine! I’m just trying to illustrate what I mean in saying imo it dislikes women).

The Handmaiden- This poll reminded me to finally get around to watching this movie, and I'm so glad I did! I'd go with "loves women" for this one actually. The nos must either be misclicks or people who don't understand that two women having sex on screen is not the same as the male gaze.

Crazy Ex Girlfriend: It loves women, and it's too bad a lot of people just clicked no because they only read the title and haven't seen the thing.

List of "Does it Like Women" Results and whether I agree

I find the "Does it like women" blog fascinating, as y'all have probably noticed. I always tend to think deeply about this topic when I consume media, so I wanted to make a list of results I disagree with, because it interests me! I'll likely be updating this through reblogs if my interest doesn't wane, I'll make a note in the replies when I do!

Loves Women

I agree with all of these so far! Well, loves women might be a little bit of a stretch for the first spiderverse movie (on the other hand...doc ock...hnnn), but I think the second does so yeah basically agree.

Likes Women

Kill la Kill- Man it's 2013 again and I'm seeing tumblr make powerpoints about how klk is deeply feminist and it's actually a super deep critique of harassment that Ryuko has to wear the ugliest outfit ever and Westerners Don't Understand (person making this argument is inevitably a Westerner).

Yeah, based on the part I've seen and everything I've heard, hard disagree. But I have not seen the whole thing, just those three, I do know the part I saw included rape jokes a plenty, a weird victim-blamey take on "not being ashamed" of being forced into a skimpy outfit and how if you're bothered by men ogling you that's your weakness, and a vagina wedgie. I'm not as mad about it as I was back then,and I can appreciate the show has it's good points later on. Not having watched it also means my knowledge is incomplete. However, I have listened to really in depth breakdowns of the series (mainly Anifem's podcast), so I know exactly what happens, and yeah, the treatment of women doesn't impress me. I'm on the dislike side, (holding back on hates because again, haven't seen all of it)

...could understand mixed feelings though, I guess

Madoka- I'd definitely go more towards mixed feelings honestly (especially if we're counting Rebellion) but I get the people who say "likes".

Yuri is my Job- it loves women, it loves messy women, it loves women who love women, it loves them so much, idk why it got a sizeable no vote. People who only watched the first ep? People who think yuri is "bad"?

Mob Psycho 100- Someone in the notes says "accidentally likes women" and that's the only answer in the "likes women" area I'll accept. It has 10 million prominent male characters and like three prominent female characters. ONE really really obviously has a hard time imagining women as powerful or action heroes. (this is reflected in One Punch Man too) (One Punch Man actively hates women and queer people though, Mob is infinitely better) Only one who ever gets to fight and play with the boys, and she's a low level mook, and we have to spend 75% percent of her limited screentime on whether it's actually okay to fight women, with her winning argument being "Well you're literally a child so I guess it evens out" (???) The little girl with the evil dolls gets even less screentime.

I do like that the series examines how Mob idealized Takane and how people not caring about the real her made her tired, as well as how it allowed her to reject Mob and was basically a lesson in the importance of accepting rejection. But her screentime is also really limited, and I feel like we could have dove into her a lot more. Tome is a wonderful weird girl and I liked her little arc, and I hear she gets more in the Reigen manga, but still not a TON of screentime, and even with her there are a couple jabs about how she doesn't "count" as a girl due to not acting traditionally feminine we're clearly supposed to find funny. Emi is...there I guess. There's that sweet scene with the writer girl, and the bully girl, but they're like, not reoccurring at all, as evidenced by how I can't remember their names.

And uh. the girls school episode.

Anyway. Hot take but I don't think "they're barely in the story but when they are two of them are treated pretty decently and have some depth, though there is some weird stuff about whether women can even fight men or whatever" really counts as "likes women". I'd go more mixed feelings.

Life is Strange-out of the two options I chose dislikes, but my feelings are a lot closer to "mixed feelings". I go into why here.

Gushing Over Magical Girls- lol. lmao even. The anime about middle school girls who look 8 sexually assaulting other middle school girls DEFINITELY doesn't like women. I go into more detail here.

Cowboy Bebop: Mixed feelings, probably. I chose dislikes because yes, Faye and Ed are great (you could def read Ed as nb though), but Faye also is repeatedly damsel in distress'd and treated as incompetent in her field when I don't think she should be, she can be a failgirl without being the sole woman in the action side of the group and also the least capable (there's also That Scene in the movie). also i just. it's fine that she's sexy but I hate her outfit. give her something nicer looking, it's so ugly. But my main reason for a dislike vote is the treatment of Julia. Girl is a textbook example of fridging. They really gave her so little. But yeah I could see mixed feelings.

Also do you remember that one scene during Faye's tragic backstory where she's hospitalized and the camera requires us to look down her super (painful looking? like idk how she's not screaming about it) squished boobs during this tense and important moment god that took me out. whenever anyone acts like Faye always owns her sexiness and the camera never does anything I remember that scene.

Ranma 1/2: I've seen read a good chunk of it, and this result is...surprising. Maybe by the standards of 80's manga though, who knows.

Better Call Saul- I did vote yes on this one, but I'd put it more at mixed feelings. Kim is a fantastic character, but there aren't enough women on the show at all. She's a major part of the show, but basically the only one of any note. I only voted yes because I finally remembered Francesca was a reoccurring character and she's all right, but the fact I had to think to remember...

Undead Unluck: I know it gets a lot better later but I'm not sure if a work that has it's female character continuously and comically sexually harrassed for the first few chapters can ever get liking women priveliges. I don't know enough about it but it might be a mixed feelings situation.

Akiba Maid War: tbh I'd probably give this 'loves women'.

Ducktales: For the second season specifically I'd a saw "loves women". The first season was more towards like women though, so it evens out.

Mixed Feelings

Dracula- IIII definitely think it dislikes women, sorry guys. Mina is a great character and you do have to take it in the context of when it was written. But there are surely contemporaries of Bram Stoker that wouldn't have randomly gone out of their way to scoff at the "New Woman". Not to mention again, really random sidebars about how men are so much smarter and cooler and women should be grateful to them. I could go on about Lucy and how Mina is treated and whether that's a critique of sexism or just playing into it and how it's so open to interpretation but I'll stop here.

also the book is hugely anti- Romani, immigrant etc and I think that ties into disliking women since some women are those Romani and immigrants

It really really felt like a case where a lot of people in the Drac Daily tag just wanted it to be super feminist because they liked it (you can like things without having to make them feminist! it's fine!), and the way they scoffed at feminist scholars who had "surface level readings" of the text (aka they dared to say it was sexist) still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

The Lego Movie: dislikes women. what are y'all on. Even it's own sequel calls it out for disliking women. Wildstyle is basically the only woman with real characterization and she's the purest concentration of "hypercompetent woman must play second fiddle to Average Male loser who is the one who actually saves the world and also she falls in love with him because of course she does'. Then Wonder Woman got one line (in literally the first theatrical move she got to even be in) and Superman and Batman a lot of screen time.

Does not like

Scott Pilgrim- Don't get this result, I'd put it at likes or mixed feelings? It's literally about how Scott has weird issues with women where he doesn't see them as to full people they are, and it calls him out on that hard. The whole sixth volume is how he made up a damsel in distress scenario for Kim and always took her for granted, how he put all the blame on Envy for the end of their relationship when he played a huge role in that, Knives finally getting over him, moving on, and telling him he needs to grow up a little (highlighting how his grossness towards her was him refusing to accept that he was an adult now, and that he was horrible to her, and yes he does apologize), and accepting that he and Ramona are both messed up people and she's just as flawed as he is, taking down the pedestal he put her on. And having Ramona triumphantly confront her abuser. Scott acknowledges he has a lot in common with Gideon, the supervillain!

Roxy is a sticking point, the whole 'it was a phase thing' and her and Ramona's relationshipbeing unexplored was annoying (fixed in Takes Off) but even she had some moments of pathos and was definitely the (Ramona's) ex the story seemed to sympathize with the most.

I dunno. this seems like a tumblr lacks media literacy thing again. Did you think the narrative agrees with Scott. Did you only watch the movie.

Succession- I'd go more mixed feelings? Dislikes is fine, I think it doesn't have enough women and often privileges male characters over them, but sometimes it's examination of the sexism Shiv faces is really incisive, and she's a complex character. But she should have gotten that abortion.

Watchmen: hates women actually. Pretty much anything written by Alan Moore does.

Persona 4: I think it hates women actually. But dislike is fine too.

Merlin: Everything I've heard about the show puts in in the hates camp rather than dislikes, but i never watched it (I did watch this video on it, and the bootlicking is out of this world if it's accurate) so I can't really comment

Fables: I cannot fathom how this did not get "hates women". Not just the fact it's written by a known misogynist. I will always remind everyone that I was literally there to see Bill Willingham say the female fans protesting the misogynist treatment of Stephanie Brown were annoying and he wishes he could shoot them. I was there. I heard him. This attitude completely shows up in his work. On top of that, his conservative, women hating idealogy all over this comic.Do you not remember all the random abortion soapboxes and how hard Snow White got sidelined????

And when I refreshed my memory, I discovered the reason Snow White had kids when she didn't want to was because a spell made her have sex with the male lead and she didn't even remember that happening. I also forgot that her backstory was the seven dwarfs raped her (but then she murdered them! Girl Power!) This is only the tip of the iceberg, I rediscovered way too many screwed up things he did to his female characters. Plus blatant Zionist propaganda and a ton of racism.

Like Snow White's backstory was some dark and edgy rape revenge and she's an Empowered Woman now, only to have her be raped by the man she will marry (in a mutual rape) but we don't call it that, and now she has kids she doesn't want, she can't get an abortion because It's Evil, time to quit her job she's proud of and move to a farm to have six kids.

iCarly-- It hates women! Dan Schneider. That should be all we need but some people in the comments insist on seperating the art from the artist despite the fact the artist is ALL OVER the art, and said art directly tormented Jeanette McCurdy! There was so much content in the show that was there to specifically torment her-- the fact her character has a food addiction/eating disorder while she had a real life eating disorder and they had to have known this, the fact after hearing she had a crush on an actor then they wrote it into her character to humiliate her, the fact they continually sexualized her while knowing her discomfort with it and with her body-- I have also watched the exhaustive basically minute-by-minute breakdown by QuintonReviews. Some gross shit happens on that show.

Hates Women

Agree with all of these so far!