#i just don’t like being around a lot of people
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
hi! can i ask what's ur opinion on giving pets away? not necessarily because u can't afford to care for em anymore but maybe incompatibility of personalities or maybe lifestyles. is it wrong to give ur pet for adoption if u know someone who's better suited for keeping a pet, like emotionally?
This is going to be controversial, but I support making that choice.
There’s a lot of rhetoric lately around how it’s evil and unethical to rehome your pet if you don’t “need to.” And what that does is prioritize human ideology over the actual animal’s well-being.
Pets that aren’t a good match for your home or pets that aren’t really wanted anymore frequently have lower welfare! When caring for an animal becomes a burden or is forced, people end up resenting them, and that means the animal often doesn’t get all of its needs fulfilled. Even if you’re still feeding it and providing appropriate vet care, how likely are you to provide affection or enrichment to an animal you’re tired of being stuck with?
Lifestyle and personality really matter to making sure a pet is a good fit for a home. A dog that alert-barks at every leaf that moves is probably a bad fit for someone who has a chronic migraine syndrome, and they might not know that until the dog has been in the home for weeks and started to open up. A really feisty kitten that requires a ton of play might not do best in the home of someone older who wanted a quiet lap cat. And while you can you do your best to plan to find a compatible animal, you won’t always know ahead of time what issues might arise.
“Forever home” rhetoric is really, really popular and I think it’s very unfair to the animals it is supposed to support. It started with the backlash of seeing animals abandoned inappropriately, and has been heavily reinforced in the public mind because it’s so frequently used to drive fundraising and support for legislation. The whole “forever home” concept communicates to people that getting an animal is an immutable commitment and that if you can’t keep an animal, it is a personal moral failing. It frames human priorities (we think people who get rid of animals are Evil and Bad and should be shunned) as more important than actual welfare needs for individual animals (are they getting the care they need where they are).
Obviously, I don’t support people dumping animals or just getting fad pets they’ll discard immediately, but there’s so many alternate situations that can arise. Even if it’s just “they got a pet and didn’t know what caring for it would take and didn’t want to care for it so they brought it back, how awful” like… okay, I’d like the person to have done more research before they got a pet, but isn’t it better that the animal now has a second chance to go to better home? Knowing what a commitment requires theoretically can be very different than having to actually follow through regularly, and I’d rather see someone maturely acknowledge that having an animal isn’t a good fit than keep it anyway!!
If animals being happy and with all their biological, veterinary, and social needs fulfilled is actually the goal, we need to prioritize their welfare over human opinion. I’d much rather see an animal rehomed responsibly to somewhere it will thrive and be welcomed than see people keep animals they can’t/don’t want to care for out of guilt or shame.
#pets#rehoming animals#animal ethics#animal welfare#there is obviously a lot of nuance to each situation but overall I want pets to be in places that are a good fit#even if that means it isn't where they started out
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
…SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER AU
⋆𐙚₊˚🍺⊹♡
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who spend a lottt of time in the back seat of his cop car. they have an age gap that would raise all kinds of alarm if the people of the small town they resided in ever found out. sheriff!rafe is beefy, his muscles bulging through every shirt he wears. farmer’s!daughter!reader is too busy raising hell all around town in hopes that someone calls the police station so rafe can handcuff her and get her act cleaned up. “you can’t just go actin’ a fool whenever you feel like screwin’ i mean it!” he’s pulling her underwear up her thighs as she lays face down against his leather seats, completely fucked out. “whatever you say, dad.” rafe is groaning at her words as he uncuffs her. “yeah? i oughta’ take you home right now then and let him know about all the trouble you been gettin’ into.”
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who go on their dates in the next town over so they don’t run the risk of being caught by any locals. farmer’s!daughter!reader who teases rafe all the time, calling him an ‘old man’ and saying he’s a perv for entertaining her antics. “there’s a motel not too far from here.. just ‘sayin.” there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips, the older man in front of her looking unamused. “you’re suggesting that i take you to a motel and you’re callin’ me a perv? get outta here.” despite his faux disinterest, they end up checking into the said motel for the night, his stomach slapping against her clit as he fucks her into oblivion on the dingy mattress of the cheap room. sheriff!rafe who actually knows farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father very well, both of them going all the way back to their high school days.
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who can’t stand each other sometimes. rafe is scolding her, telling her that she shouldn’t be wearing those ‘godforsaken’ shorts of hers since it draws a lot of the wrong attention. “you’re just mad because jj maybank is wondering what color panties i have on..” she’s leaning into the window of his cop car, his jaw clenching as he eyed the scruffy looking blonde who stood not too far away, shot gunning hot beers with his friends. “mad at the ‘maybank kid? please, darlin’ he’s a joke.” she’s laughing at his words, getting close to his ear before whispering; “i’m glad you think so, because i’m about to go over there and tell him i’m not wearing any..” that sets rafe off and it isn’t long before he’s slamming jj down against the hood of his car and arresting him for underaged drinking..
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who are such polar opposites, even they don’t understand how they work together. sheriff!rafe has a rough exterior, seemingly cold, closed off and never smiles, whereas farmer’s!daughter!reader is dancing on tables in bars she shouldn’t even be at, and being a little minx to see how many free drinks she can get out of the regulars. so much so, that rafe started patrolling around town at night so he could stop her from doing something stupid. and of course, without fail, he’s getting a radio call saying there’s been a report of a quote, unquote ‘young woman resisting arrest and assaulting an officer.’ and rafe is arriving onto the scene almost immediately, cursing under his breath when he see’s her being held down by at least four of his men in uniform.
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who eventually have to get serious with one another, both of them knowing that what they have is anything but casual. sheriff!rafe who doesn’t know how to go about it, so he decides it’s best to just be blunt. “so uhm— what do ‘ya say to moving out of your pop’s and living with me instead?” farmer’s!daughter!reader is staring at him from across the table at their favorite diner. “what?” she’s frozen, holding her knife over her plate of fluffy pancakes. “are you serious?” rafe is nodding as he takes a cigarette out of his pocket, placing it between his lips. “yeah, but this rowdy act of yours needs to stop. m’not gonna have you actin’ reckless if i’m the one taking care of you.” he doesn’t have to tell her twice before she’s nodding, throwing her arms around the grumpy sheriff before pressing kisses to his cheek.
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ farmer’s!daughter!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron headcanons#outer banks rafe#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
honestly I think that the core of a lot of issues of transmisogyny and bioessentialism that you see with tme trans people exists solely because they do not want to see transfems as equally valid victims of gendered oppressions whom they have gendered power over, because doing so would require them to unlearn ideas of sex-based oppression rather than talk around them and be quiet. a lot of trans guys and nonbinary people just never grew past this, still happily talking about how they still experience misogyny due to “being a female” and never bothered trying to consider transfems in their analysis and it’s a problem. people act like they have to believe in this bullshit or pretend that they never faced misogyny or oppression growing up, and it’s a bullshit false dichotomy that only serves transmisogyny. seriously, open almost any post talking about transmasc issues and you’ll see a guy talking about himself and others as female or otherwise utilizing the language of sex based oppression, unaware or uncaring of how it implicitly erases the misogyny transfems are subject to.
a large majority of transmisogyny from tme trans people is either stemming from this frustration that they have to respect trans women’s experiences with misogyny despite lacking the female birth assignment they view as critical, or a post-hoc justification of these views, they don’t really believe trans women are men or access male power, but instead “just find it important to talk about uniquely female issues and misogyny”, which, yknow, always include things trans women also experience, but try telling that to the implications they make
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
snowfall
pairing: lando norris x best friend!reader
summary: when plans with your family fall through at the last minute, lando invites you to come home with him for the holidays. (3.8k)
a/n: the big finale!!! lando is so best friends to lovers coded, i couldn’t resist. does it snow in the uk in december, probably not but it’s for the plot so bear with me pls <3 happy holidays everyone!!
“Yeah, of course. Yes, mum, I understand. No, I’ll be fine, I promise. Okay. Okay, I love you too. Cheers, see you when you get back.”
You end the call with a heavy sigh, tossing your phone away from you on the sofa.
That was your mum on the phone, telling you that her and your father wouldn’t be home for Christmas this year. You’d planned on going home to celebrate with them like you always do, but for the first time ever in your life, it looked like you were going to be spending Christmas alone.
It was bound to happen sometime in your life, really. You’re an adult now, still trying to find your place and your people in this world.
Speaking of your people, Lando has just made his way into McLaren hospitality, head on a swivel until his eyes land on you. He takes notice of your downtrodden demeanor immediately, marches his way over to where you are with gusto and plops down next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours.
“What’s wrong?” He asks bluntly, dark brows furrowed in concern.
You inhale a deep breath, forcing a smile onto your face to respond. “Nothing. How was testing?”
“Fine. Seriously, what’s going on? Why do you look so sad?” He demands, but not unkindly or rudely. Just simply how Lando is with you, direct and to the point. It’s one of many ways he is around those he cares for.
“I was planning on going home to spend Christmas with my family, but my parents aren’t going to make it home in time,” You confess. Your finger picks at the loose thread of your sweater sleeve, a welcome distraction from the lump threatening to form in your throat.
Lando frowns. “Oh. M’sorry to hear that. That sucks.”
“Yeah. Looks like I’ll be spending the holidays on my own this year.”
“What? No, you can’t spend Christmas alone. That sounds so sad.”
“I’ll be fine, Lando,” You chuckle, patting his knee. It does indeed sound sad, but you won’t have Lando all worried about you when he should be celebrating with his loved ones. He’s got a lot to celebrate this year, and you don’t want your situation to take away from any of it. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Come spend Christmas with me.”
For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Lando is one of your best friends, sure, but joining him for something like this seems too imposing of you. Despite being close with his family, you can’t do this to them so last minute. After a long year, this is their time with Lando.
You shake your head immediately, wrinkling your nose. “No way. I wouldn’t want to barge in on your family time.”
“C’mon, you wouldn’t be! My family loves you.” He shrugs. “I mean, you’re basically an honorary Norris already at this point, and I think my sisters might love you more than they love me.”
That makes you laugh. “Shut up, no they don’t!”
“Uh, yeah they do.”
“Okay, maybe they do. I’m just that easy to love.”
“Yeah, you are,” He says, smiling softly. Your head cocks to the side at the pure warmth in his tone, and it seems to make him snap out of whatever trance he’s in, because he gives his head a subtle shake. “Seriously, come home with me. It’ll be fun. Way more fun than just sitting around at home watching those boring home improvement shows you seem to like so much.”
“Hey! Those shows are fun!” You huff, swatting him on the thigh.
“Sure they are,” He says, still unbelieving. “So what do you say? Christmas with the Norrises, how ‘bout it?”
You let out a breathy chuckle, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds lovely.”
“Mint! I’ll go let my mum know.” He beams, bouncing to his feet. “Better let Flo and Cisca know too, they’d kill me if I brought you round and didn't tell them ahead of time.”
“Lando?” You call after him. He whirls around with an arched brow, phone already in hand. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I’d never let you spend the holidays alone.”
Looks like this Christmas might not be so bad after all.
-------
The first thing you hear when you climb out of the car at Lando’s family’s house is a shout of your name.
Before you can even register who might be calling you, a little body crashes into your legs, arms wrapping around your knees tightly. Now you know who it is, and you grin.
“Why hello, miss Mila!” You chirp, kneeling down to be at her level. She giggles loudly at the finger you boop against her nose, throwing her arms around your neck as best she can, and you lift her up onto your hip. “Are you excited for Christmas?”
“Christmas!” She cheers. Lando wanders over to the two of you from the boot of the car at that moment, and the second Mila spots him, she grins even wider than you’d thought was possible. “Lala!!!” She squeals, reaching out for him.
Lando takes her into his arms, swings her around a little bit, beaming brightly at the peals of laughter that escape her with every swing. “My goodness, you’ve grown! You might be almost as big as me now!”
Lando’s brother, Oliver, emerges from around the house now with his other daughter nestled in his arms, raising his free hand in greeting as he makes his way over.
“Guess my brother finally gathered the nerve,” He says cheerfully, clapping Lando on the back. Lando not-so-subtly steps on Oliver’s foot, garnering a hiss of pain from the older Norris. “To…make it home when it’s still bright out! Yeah, he usually doesn’t come around til the girls have gone off to bed.”
“It’s nice to see you too, Oliver,” You chuckle, pushing aside your confusion as you give a small wave to the toddler in her father’s arms. She waves back shyly. “Thanks for letting me join you guys this year.”
“Please, you’re welcome here anytime,” Oliver replies, sounding more than sincere. “C’mon, let’s head inside. Mum and everyone’ll be stoked to see you.”
Mila wriggles out of Lando’s arms to come hold your hand, dragging you towards the house excitedly. You don't notice Lando and Oliver dropping back, nor the hushed conversation they have that is definitely about you.
Much like both boys have said, the rest of their family welcomes you with open arms.
His parents tell you how good it is to see you again, and that they’re happy you’d decided to come home with Lando, Flo and Cisca glue themselves to your side immediately to catch up with you, even little Athena starts to warm up to you the longer she watches her older sister play with you.
You feel right at home with all of them like you always do, and it makes you start to forget about spending your first Christmas without your own family. Though, in a way, Lando’s family is starting to feel like yours too.
-------
It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep. You’ve been at Lando’s house a few days now and everything’s been great—the food, the company. Lando.
You’re used to him being a little forward with his affections towards others, because that’s just the way he is. So when he pulls your legs over his lap while you’re watching a holiday film with the whole family, or rests his head on your shoulder during Monopoly, you don’t think anything of it at first. He likes cozying up to friends and being close to them. But as the days go on, it starts to feel different this time.
At first you just assume it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel awkward, but then you catch him staring at you a few times in a way you can only describe as pure fondness. While you're on the sofa cuddled up with Mila and Athena watching one of their shows. As you're helping Cisca figure out what to wear for her next date with her boyfriend, or helping his mum in the kitchen.
It could be platonic, but it feels a little too intimate to be so.
You don’t want to think too much into it, though. It wouldn’t do you any good to get your hopes up about the possibility of something more with Lando when it could just be all in your head.
Sitting up in bed, you scrub your hands over your face. Too many thoughts run their way through your brain for you to fall back asleep, no matter how tired you may be. You glance out the window beside you, and suddenly your attention is captured at the scene outside.
It’s snowing.
Sure, it’s an ungodly late hour, but seeing snow makes you want to go outside. Doing your absolute best not to wake anyone up as you swing yourself out of bed and creep down the hallway, you make your way down the corridor to Lando’s bedroom.
You knock on his door quietly, listening for anything that could give away whether or not Lando was up. For a few seconds, there isn’t a sound. Then you hear the clacking of a keyboard and the faint sound of him talking, and you know he’s awake. He probably didn’t hear you knock.
Pushing open the door slowly, you pad into the room to see him slouched over in his gaming chair with his back towards you.
“Yeah, mate, I’m gonna tell her—no, I’m not! Fuck off,” He says. There’s a lengthy pause—whoever he’s on call with is talking, you assume. “I’m just—I’m waiting for the right time. Like, I’ll know when it comes, won’t I?”
Your heart gives an involuntary pang in your chest and you sigh, having already had enough eavesdropping on this conversation.
You pad towards Lando, going for a gentle tap on the shoulder. Your hand just barely touches his arm, but he jumps about a foot in the air, flinching so hard you think the poor boy might’ve given himself whiplash.
“Jesus! What the—don’t sneak up on me like that!” He yelps, pushing one side of his headphones above his ear. On the screen, you can see he’s playing Tarkov again. Alway playing Tarkov instead of sleeping, that boy.
This time, it works out for you. Now you can drag out into the snow with you. Not that you weren’t going to do it anyways even if he was asleep.
“You couldn’t hear me! What was I supposed to do?” You huff. Squinting at the other username on screen, you smile, pushing into Lando’s space to reach his microphone. “Is that Max? Hi, Max!”
Lando’s voice sounds a bit strangled when he relays Max’s response a few moments later. “He says hi.”
“What else did he say?”
“What? Nothing,” He replies quickly, swallowing hard. “Why?”
“That was such a long pause, there’s no way he just said hi.”
“Well, he did, so…it’s whatever. What’s, uh, what’s up? Everything okay?”
Now you remember what you came here for. Grinning, you bounce on the balls of your feet. “There’s snow outside!”
“No way!” He says earnestly, cocking his head to the side. He abandons his game in favor of shuffling over to the window and peering outside, letting out a pleased little noise when he sees that it is indeed snowing out in the garden. “That’s wicked.”
“Will you come outside with me?”
He exhales sharply, giving an amused chuckle. “Yeah, right. I’m not going outside.”
“It’ll be fun!”
“Don’t see what’s so fun about freezing my ass off in the cold,” He grumbles, but you can tell he just needs a little more convincing. You jut out your lower lip, giving him the pout of yours that he can never seem to withstand, and his resolve starts to crumble. “No, don’t do that. Stop that right now. I’m not going outside with you at this time of night.”
“Please, Lan?” You plead, taking his face into your palms so he can’t look away. For a split second, his gaze seems to flicker down to your lips, but before you can process the tiny movement, he’s squeezing his eyes shut.
“Oh my god, fine,” He groans, shoulders sagging. You beam, wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. “Let me go tell Max I’m being held against my will and then we can go.” He crosses back over to his desk and mutters something into the microphone that you can’t quite make out.
As you’re pulling on layers to guard yourselves from the cold, he pauses, turning to you with one shoe on. “You didn’t, erm, happen to hear anything when you came in to get me, did you?”
“No, why?”
You’re not sure why you choose to lie about what you’d overheard, something about Lando telling some girl something at the right time. He hadn’t told you anything about having a crush on anyone, but then again, these past few weeks have been hectic.
“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” He pulls the front door open right then, suddenly seeming so eager to get outside despite his previous grievances. Something in his tone hints that it might not be as nothing as he says it is, but you won’t push.
You traipse out into the garden after him, making careful sure to close the door behind you so the cold doesn’t seep in. Fresh powder crunches underfoot as you make your way further out.
The falling snow has already begun to coat everything out here in layers, and you drag your finger through it, smiling to yourself at the clean cut line it makes.
It feels like another world out here. In a life that is so often always hustle and bustle all the time, the quiet of this time of night in the countryside seems deafening, but in the best way. Peaceful can only begin to describe how you feel right now.
“Why is it so fucking cold out here?” Lando grumbles, burrowing deeper into his three scarves. Along with the two jumpers and thick coat he’d shoved himself into before even stepping foot outside, he looks well freezing.
“Don’t be such a grinch, Lan. It’s snowing!”
He scowls. “It’s freezing.”
“C’mon, at least try to have some fun! You’re killing my vibe, mate,” You huff, bending down to scoop up a loose handful of snow to chuck in his direction. It scatters into the air before it even makes it to him, but hey, at least he’s laughing now. You turn to say something else, but you’re immediately stopped in your tracks.
A snowball explodes against your forehead before you can say a thing, spraying bits of icy snow everywhere.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” Lando yelps, nearly tripping on his own feet in his scramble towards you. You’re too stunned by the snow dripping its way down your face to even register his words. “I wasn’t aiming for your face, I swear! Are you okay?”
You blink owlishly at him, at the concern and horror mixing in his expression as he takes you by the shoulders to check you out. He uses his teeth to pull off one glove, tossing it off to the side as he reaches to brush the snow from anywhere he can reach.
“For a professional athlete, you really do have shit aim,” You huff, playful annoyance in your tone.
Lando’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes crinkling happily at the corners as he giggles quietly. “I know. S’terrible, innit? Good thing my job doesn’t require me to do any throwing.”
“Good thing,” You echo.
His palms cup the expanse of your cheeks, the pads of his thumbs brushing across your cold skin delicately, and he’s looking at you in that way again, the way that makes you feel like you’re the only other one in the world. Blue-green eyes like sea glass flit around your face, thick brows furrowing ever so slightly as he inches forward. Slowly, like he’s giving you a way out if what he’s about to do isn’t what you want.
You’re holding your breath as he gets closer, closer, closer, until—
Fireworks.
As if kissing your best friend isn’t cliche enough, all you can describe of the feeling of his lips against yours is fireworks, bursting in your chest like little explosions.
“Wait—” You breathe, splaying a hand across Lando’s chest to push him back a bit before the kiss can go on any longer. Despite how much you want it to continue. He makes some sort of displeased noise out the back of his throat, pink lips turning down into a pout. “What about the other girl?”
That gets him to pull back a little more, head cocking and nose scrunching in genuine confusion. “What other girl?”
“I lied. I did hear you talking when I came into your room, you said something about waiting for the right time to tell her something. You can’t be kissing me if you like someone else, Lando!” You exclaim incredulously.
He regards you blankly for a few seconds. Then he starts to laugh. You’re trying to save his ass and he’s laughing at you. You scowl at him. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”
“Oh! Oh, that was so good! That was gold, really,” He splutters, tears in his eyes. You swat indignantly at him and he holds up his hands in surrender, doing his best to catch his breath. “There is no other girl, you muppet! I was talking about you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Guess this is the right time then, huh?” He says, chuckling nervously as he rubs at his reddened nose. “So, here goes it. I think I’m in love with you.”
“Why?” You ask, disbelieving. It’s a blunt response, you’re fully aware, but you want to know.
“What d’you mean, why? Have you met you?” He scoffs, like he’s astonished you even have the nerve to question him. “You’re amazing. You’re kind and funny and so smart, and you make people happy—you make me happy, even when I’ve had the absolute shittiest day, I know everything’ll be fine as soon as you find me. You know what I need, even when I don’t know what I need.”
You’re at a loss for words hearing all this now. How has Lando been in love with you all this time, with you none the wiser?
“Why’ve you never said anything?” You ask softly.
Lando smiles almost sadly, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. “You’re one of my best friends. I’d rather keep my mouth shut if telling you meant losing you. Losing what we have because you didn’t feel the same way.”
That, you understand. The fear of ruining your friendship with Lando is one of the reasons why you’d kept your feelings for him secret as well. So to both of you, it was better to ignore your feelings and stay this close than to let the other know and possibly lose one of the best things in your lives.
“We’re idiots,” You sigh, closing your eyes.
“You’re not an idiot,” He says immediately. Then he frowns. “Wait, why would you be an idiot? I know I am, but why you?”
You grab Lando by the collar of his puffy jacket, pulling him into a firm kiss. If he’s surprised, it only shows for a split second before he’s kissing you back fervently, drawing you flush against him by the hips. His nose against your cheek is much colder than before, but the warmth that spreads from your chest down to your toes is more than enough to remedy it.
“Please tell me that means you do feel the same way,” He pants, looking entirely dazed when you pull away.
You raise an amused brow at him. “No, I just kissed the living daylights out of you because I don’t feel the same way—what do you think?”
“Best Christmas gift ever, is what I think.” He smiles warmly. Then he shivers, blowing out a sharp breath. “Now can we please go back inside? I can’t feel my face anymore.”
Once you’re inside and have shed your coats and shoes and anything else wet with snow, Lando nudges you towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some hot cocoa.” He murmurs, quiet so as to not wake anyone in the house. You pause, causing him to look back at you. “What?”
“The package kind or the real kind?”
“What sort of question is that? The real kind, of course,” He snorts. “With milk and everything.”
“Oh, you do love me!” You say gleefully.
Lando rolls his eyes playfully, giving your hand a firmer tug that has you sliding right in under his arm on your socked feet.
Despite all his moaning and groaning about being cold, he’s pleasantly warm, and you sigh, nuzzling in closer. He welcomes your closeness, dropping a kiss to the side of your head as he shuffles his way towards the pots and pans cupboard with you latched onto him, not even trying to wriggle out of your grasp.
It feels natural because you’ve always been close. Though now, things have changed. Now, you can kiss him if you want to, instead of wondering what Lando would do if you did it. You’re not just friends to each other anymore.
You press your lips against his quickly as he’s piling marshmallows on top of two mugs of hot cocoa, pulling back right after just to see his reaction to the impromptu kiss.
As expected, his mouth curves into a grin, dimples on full display. He flicks a marshmallow at you, and you reciprocate, tilting your chin up at him in challenge.
Soon enough, now you’re both chucking the tiny white sweets at each other, trying and failing to catch them into your mouths. The first of you to catch one of them is you, and you cheer, flinging your hands in the air.
“Oh my god, shush, you! People are sleeping!” He breathes, lunging forward to press a hand over your mouth as you’re mid-shout.
Your eyes widen in comical realization and it makes him laugh, which makes you laugh. His hand falls from your face as you both fall apart in quiet giggles.
You’re laughing because he’s laughing, he’s laughing because you’re laughing, and neither of you can stop until your sides hurt.
“C’mere,” He murmurs, stepping in close and sliding a hand around the back of your neck. His gaze flits all around your face, taking in the sight of you with eyes that twinkle with happiness even in the darkness of the kitchen. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Lan." You smile.
He kisses you then, long and sweet and with such gentleness that it makes your stomach do somersaults.
In the morning, you’ll need to figure out how you’ll play things with Lando’s family, and then everything after. But not now.
For now, you’ll watch the snow fall outside while you snuggle up on the sofa with the boy you love and a mug of not so hot cocoa.
So maybe this Christmas hadn’t gone exactly as you’d planned, but really, you aren’t too sad about it anymore. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new writing :)
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris x fem!reader#lando norris x best friend!reader#lando norris fluff
575 notes
·
View notes
Text
I added a shortened version of this on tags but I think it’s better as a full comment: People who are fighting in the notes. Please. The point of OP’s post isn't that Polish people aren't allowed to be mad to be mistaken for German or Russian because they’ve been both under German and Russian occupation. The point is that a LOT of people who take offense with their country being mistaken for countries they’ve historically been at odds with don’t find it an issue when the same thing is done to people from Asian and African countries.
Like, as any European knows very well, just because countries are geographically close to each other, might have some overlapping cultural aspects and sometimes even speak the same language, it doesn’t mean they haven’t clashed against each other in the past and insisting that people are “just the same” as people who have historically oppressed them just due to proximity and (sometimes just perceived) cultural similarities is equally as tone-deaf, no matter which country or continent we’re talking about.
For example, westerners often confuse or lump China, Korea and Japan together under having similar cuisines, culture, etc. to the point where “Asian restaurants” are a thing. But both China and Korea were colonized by the Japanese during its colonial empire era, and it’s a sensitive topic in all three of those countries to this day. People of Korean descent born in Japan couldn’t both be registered under Korean names and have Japanese citizenship until 1987. That’s the same year Dirty Dancing was in theaters. The same year Whitney Houston released I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me).
Similarly, Africa is very, very often thought and spoken of as a “country” instead of a continent with a single culture and identity, when it’s actually comprised of 54 different countries and around 3000 different ethnic groups. If you tell, for example, a Somali person that they’re indistinguishable from Ethiopians to you, they’re very likely not going to be very pleased as Somalia and Ethiopia have clashed over Ethiopian expansion over Somali territory since the 12th century! The last time there has been armed conflict over it? 2006. In 2006, you could already have Twitter and Facebook accounts and play games on the Nintendo Wii.
I’m not saying you have to know the historical relationships between every single country and cultural/religious/ethnic group in the world. Just be, like, sensible. If the thought of your country or an identity of yours being dismissed as being “the same thing” as a people who have oppressed, waged wars against or interacted in any violent manner towards your ancestors or you upsets you, just know that people feel the same all over the world. If you want to talk about some cultural element that you know comes from a place in a certain continent but not the exact country, look it up. Do a bit of research. Does it take more effort than to generalize? Of course. But if being considerate was completely effortless, there wouldn’t be nearly as many assholes in the world.
Good double feature here
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
STUCK WITH YOU ; QUINN HUGHES.
❄︎ pair: quinn hughes x y/n.
❄︎ synopsis: of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them.
❄︎ word count: 5.6k
❄︎ chapter warnings: unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut (once), softdom!quinn, dirty talk.
💌 from me to you: merry christmas, babies 🩶 i hope all of you had a great time and lots of delicious food. 1st of all, i’d like to apologise bc i got carried away with the word count! 2nd of all, i’m sorry about how dirty this is… this was supposed to be wholesome and cute but i don’t know what happened 😭 sorry…. anyways, as always, forgive me for this poorly written smut and share with me your thoughts! i love you! ♡
𖧷
Ever Since your sister started dating one of the most known hockey players, Luke Hughes, your life changed— for the better, that is. It’s not like you’re used to all the attention, but it’s nice to attend parties and meet your favorite hockey players for free.
But, the only issue you didn’t see coming when she announced that she was, in fact, very much in love with the youngest of the Hughes brothers is that now you have to constantly coexist with your long time celebrity crush, Quinn Hughes.
It’s an old thing, your situation with Quinn Hughes. You first started noticing him during his time in college, when he was just eighteen.
None of your friends understood what was so special about him but you just told them they didn’t have to: Quinn Hughes is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, and you’ll stand by that until the end of your days.
When your sister decided that she would make Luke Hughes hers, you remember laughing and saying: He’ll be yours when Quinn Hughes’s mine.
Turns out, Luke is your sister’s.
And, well. Quinn���s not yours.
When you’re around him, during dinners and parties, you almost don’t even acknowledge him. It’s just because you don’t know how to be around him without immediately blushing and cringing at your own words.
It’s like you’re a teenager all over again, but what else can you do, really. He’s attractive, he’s funny and he cares about the people he loves; you cannot not be in love with someone like him.
But now you’re his brother’s sister in law and have been for the past year. You have been doing a great job at not staying in the same room as him for too long, and even if you can come off as rude or mean, it’s better than to get caught while watching him with lovey eyes.
It’s December 24th, and you’re on your way to your sister’s house, where you’d spend Christmas with her— and since she’s only arriving later that night because of work, you’ll be there earlier to arrange things for her.
You’re annoyed by the fact that she has to work until late during Christmas time but at least you’ll get to spend the night with at least one of your family members, since your parents are out of town.
What’s also annoying is the fact that it’s cold and snowing. Not just normal, winter type of snow but North-Pole type of snow. You’re shivering inside your car, because your heater is broken and you stupidly decided that it’d be a great idea to wear just leggings and a sweatshirt.
You park in front of her house, sighing and trying to move as fast as your frozen limbs could. You’re also carrying a hundred bags with you, because decorating is your favorite part of Christmas and knowing your sister and her workaholic personality, you know that she probably doesn’t even have her tree out of her attic yet— so you’ll have to do the whole decorating thing by yourself.
Which you silently prefer because there’s nothing you hate more when people try to dictate where your ornaments should go.
You ring her doorbell first, before dumbly realizing that she’s probably at work already, so you just start looking for the spare key she gave you when the door opens, making you lift your head up with a smile, only to drop it two seconds later.
“Oh.”
Quinn’s looking back at you with a polite smile, and you’re not sure that what you’re seeing is actually real because why the hell would Quinn Hughes be at your sister’s house during Christmas?
“Hi, Y/n.” He says, leaning against the door frame.
You frown without even noticing it. Why didn’t she warn you that he would be at her house?
You’ve been staring at him for what feels to be hours, when he speaks again: “Aren’t you… cold?”
You realize that he’s right and you are cold. Cold and tired because you’re still holding the heavy bags, so you just nod and watch as he opens the door more and reaches for the bags in your hand, picking all four of them up like they’re not heavy at all and letting you in.
You’re still in shock and shivering when you close the door behind you, welcoming the warm air inside the house, thankful for your sister’s amazing heating system.
Quinn walks back to the living room and you grab your phone, dialing your sister’s number and putting the phone against your ear.
“Y/n? Are you—”
“Why didn’t you tell me he would be at your place?!” You shout slash whisper, hiding behind her clothes rack.
“Who’s he? Why are you whispering?”
“What do you mean who’s he?” You hiss. “I’m talking about him!”
“Who’s… Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.”
Her laugh makes you blush. “I didn’t think he’d arrive so soon. I told him he could come later because you’d be the only one there so I just guessed… well. Nevermind.”
“What do I do?!” you sound so desperate it’s almost funny. “I can’t be here! You know I—”
“Y/n, stop freaking out. It’s just Quinn,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Go decorate and do all that stuff you like to do during Christmas. I’ll pick up the food goodies when I leave work, so please just… be normal.”
“What do you mean be normal I can’t—”
“I gotta go. I love you. Bye.”
She hangs up the call and leaves you staring at your phone screen, contemplating how you would scape when it was so cold outside and Quinn’s already seen you so—
“Y/n? Are you playing hide and seek?”
You immediately get out of your sister’s clothes and smile awkwardly, almost opening the front door and standing in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to run you over.
“No, I—” you stutter, looking everywhere but him. “I was just… talking to my sister…”
“I see,” he says. “Is she okay? It’s snowing outside, and you’re still shivering.”
How the hell did he notice that?, you ask yourself, before nodding.
“She is, yeah. She’s working.”
You step further inside the house, walking past Quinn like he’s some type of virus. Besides the huge tree sitting in the corner by the TV, your sister’s house is poorly decorated, just like you predicted, so at least you’ll have something to busy yourself with until she arrives.
“She told me she’d work until late and she said I could come and help you out with your decorations until she and Luke arrive.” He explains, and you turn around, raising your eyebrow at him, confused.
“Luke’s coming?” You ask.
“He is, yes.”
“I thought… I thought you guys would spend Christmas with your parents.” You say, because that’s what you heard your sister saying.
“Well, they’re coming too,” he chuckles, putting his hand inside his front pockets. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything?”
“No, I thought—” you start, but then you bite your lips, giving up mid-sentence. You didn’t want to sound rude by saying I thought it’d be the two of us only so you just stay quiet. “Nevermind. It’s nice that you all get to spend Christmas together.”
Quinn stares at you for a few seconds before nodding. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”
You frown, shaking your head.
“I’m not, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting all of you,” you reply, embarrassed. “I brought my Grinch sweater…”
He laughs, and you have to stop yourself from smiling too.
“It’s okay. I’ll wear my Cindy Lou one.”
You want to yell at him and tell him to stop being nice, but you already know that’s just how he is. That’s one of the reasons you like him so much.
You look outside your sister’s big window and frown, noticing that the snow is only falling faster, and the street is white everywhere now. Even your car is barely visible.
“It’s getting ugly,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “I hope it stops soon.”
“I don’t know about that…” he comments, sitting on the couch next to your bags. “I did see a blizzard warning in my weather app today.”
“What?” you almost shout. “Are you sure it was for today?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s why I came earlier. I thought it was dangerous for you to stay here alone.”
You want to ask him what one thing has to do with the other but you’re too busy blushing over his sentence to do anything else.
“I’d be just fine, but thank you,” you mumble. Sighing, you look down at your clothes. “I’m going to change and then start decorating.” You announce, not even sure why.
“You should probably put on something warmer,” he looks down at your clothes before running his fingers through his hair. “It’d be a shame if you caught a cold.”
You don’t say anything, just nod and make your way to your sister’s bedroom, happy that you’re both the same size. Once you find a comfort, two piece set wool outfit, you grab it and change, immediately welcoming the warmth it brings.
You also spend more time in your sister’s bedroom than you should, sitting on her bed and contemplating what you should do.
It’s not like Quinn’s a bad person or someone difficult to be around, but you get shy really easily and he happens to master the art of making you embarrassed, even if it’s not in a bad way.
He’s probably not even aware of it, too, because he’s just a really kind person and that’s just how he treats everyone he likes.
He doesn’t like us, your brain reminds you, he’s just polite.
Whatever.
You get back to the living room and find him still sitting on the couch, watching some random, Christmas movie. You reach for your bags, trying to open them as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb him.
You remove the plastic boxes full of ornaments and distribute them around you, separating them by color and size. It’s therapeutic to you, and it helps to calm your brain down.
Soon, the fact that Quinn’s in the same room as you, alone, doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re having fun decorating your sister’s empty tree, making it beautifully decorated and ready for the night.
After what’s probably thirty minutes, you reach for the last item inside your boxes, which is a bright, yellow star, heavily bedazzled. It’s been yours since you and your sister moved out of your parents’ house and you love it more than all of your other Christmas decorations combined.
The only issue is that it should sit on top of the tree, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem, because your sister had been letting you decorate her tiny tree for the past years, and you’ve been able to reach it just fine. But this year she decided that she wanted to challenge you and she bought a tall one, so now you can’t really reach the top, and you only realize it after jumping for a few minutes and not even touching the top once.
“Do you need any help?”
Quinn’s calm voice startles you, and you hold back a scream. You had forgotten that he was sitting just behind you, and probably had been watching you embarrassing yourself for the past three minutes.
You’re feeling your cheeks warm when you answer: “No, I… well. Maybe?”
He chuckles, getting up. “Does your sister have a ladder?”
“No, she doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “She says someone as tall as her should do just fine without one.”
“I don’t understand,” he laughs. “She’s just a few inches taller than you. There’s barely a difference.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” You say, annoyed. “I can just grab a chair—”
“No, let me help you.” He walks towards you, and when you’re just about to tell him he’s not going to reach the top by himself either he does something that sends you to another world.
He picks you up effortlessly, putting you down on his left shoulder, and hands you the star like he wasn’t holding another human on one of his shoulders.
You put the star on the top of the tree, moving automatically because your brain hasn't been working properly ever since you stepped into your sister’s house.
“Are you done?” he asks, and he doesn’t even sound tired. “Do you need me to hand you anything else or—”
“No, you can… put me down, please.” You mumble, blushing as he grabs your waist and slowly pulls you down until your feet are touching the floor.
He’s standing behind you, chest glued to your back, and you hold back a yelp, stepping away like his touch is deadly.
“Uh, thanks?” It sounds like a question, but you don’t repeat it again. You turn around, watching as he smiles and nods.
“It looks great, Y/n.”
You also smile, because you always do it whenever people compliment your decorations skills. “Thanks. Again.”
“Well,” he shrugs, looking around. “What do you want to do now?”
You mimic his move, looking around your sister’s living room.
“I mean, I don’t know,” you hum. “Maybe set the table? I know it’s early but—”
“Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He starts walking towards the kitchen and you freak out.
“What!” you yell, and he stops, turning back around and looking at you with confused, pretty eyes. “I mean— what do you mean we?”
“Oh,” he shrugs. “I thought I could help.”
“Are you… like… serious?” You frown.
He frowns back. “I was, yes… are you one of those people who don’t like when people try to help because you’re afraid they’ll end up messing up with your arrangements?”
“Well, yes and no,” you laugh, only to shake your head after. “But it’s not that. I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never seen a man get up to help before. Especially during Christmas.”
He seems to take a while to process what you had just said, but then he laughs, beautifully you’d say.
“They weren’t raised by Ellen Hughes, Y/n. I was.”
You smile, realizing you were utterly fucked. And not in a good way.
You and Quinn worked in silence, and even though you almost dropped the plates twice with how nervous you were, this moment will probably keep repeating itself forever inside your head, from the moment you wake up to the moment you'll go to sleep.
He’s calm and he listens to each one of your orders without hesitation, just nodding and doing as you say. He carries the heavy stuff and just lets you busy yourself with making everything pretty, which you do.
You’re about to tell him that you’re done when the TV catches your attention.
“Good evening, and Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This is Nicholas Edwards reporting live with an urgent weather alert. It’s shaping up to be a Christmas Eve like no other—because we are in the midst of a blizzard that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon.”
“Oh my God,” you hear someone saying, and realize that it was you. You move until you’re standing in front of the TV, covering your mouth with your right hand.
“Right now, snow is coming down at an incredible rate, with visibility dropping rapidly. Winds are gusting up to 40 miles per hour, creating near whiteout conditions in many areas. And the latest forecast? The snow isn’t expected to stop until early tomorrow morning—Christmas Day! That means we’re looking at significant snowfall totals, possibly more than 18 inches in some spots.”
“Oh my God,” you repeat, looking at Quinn before looking back at the TV again.
“Officials are urging everyone to stay indoors tonight. If you don’t absolutely need to be out, don’t risk it. Roads are treacherous, power outages are a real possibility, and emergency crews are working hard to keep up.”
“What about my sister and your family?” you ask, almost rhetorically, because you know Quinn knows just as much as you. “They can’t come now because it’s dangerous.”
“I’ll try to call my parents,” he says, reaching for his phone already. “Can you call your sister, please?”
“Already doing it.” You say, dialing your sister’s number.
“So… you saw the news.” Is the first thing she says after picking up and you roll your eyes.
“Yeah, Quinn and I did,” you say. “What are we going to do? It’s not safe for you to drive around and you’re definitely not driving thirty minutes back to your house in this weather.”
“I guess you’re right,” she sighs. “Luke and I are together, though. He saw the news before I did and drove me to his and Jack’s apartment since it’s closer to my workplace…”
“So, you’ll stay at their place?” You frown.
“What else can I do, right?” she chuckles, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you. “At least you’re stuck with the sibling that knows how to cook.”
“Hey!” You hear one of Quinn’s brothers, probably Jack, yelling in the back.
“You’re probably right,” you mumble. “Well. We’ll see each other tomorrow then?”
“‘Course we will, bubba,” she sounds joyful again. “Merry Christmas, Y/n. I love you. Tell Quinn I said Merry Christmas to him too!”
“I will,” you nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “I love you too. Bye.”
“Bye.”
You stare at your phone screen until it turns black, and sigh. Quinn finishes his phone call and stares at you, blue, fond eyes looking at you with care.
“I guess you heard the same thing as me.” He says and you nod.
“They’re not coming.”
“And neither are my parents,” he sighs. “They’re stuck in their hotel. They’re not letting people leave.”
“God, this sucks,” you grunt, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “We don’t even have food. My sister was supposed to pick it up after she finished her shift but…”
“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Quinn says and you can tell he’s trying to sound positive. “Come on, stop pouting.”
You frown. “I wasn’t pouting.”
“Yes, you were,” he smiles. “You do that whenever something doesn’t go your way.”
“I— how do you even know that?” You ask, genuinely amused. He just shrugs and walks back to the kitchen, leaving you and your one hundred thoughts about him alone. “Quinn!”
Dinner goes well. It’s silent and calm, but not in an embarrassing, awkward way. Quinn knows how to cook really well, and his food makes you hold yourself back so you won’t kiss him.
His lips probably taste amazing, just like the rest of him. Sometimes, when your thoughts about how Quinn could make you feel good are too much, you slip your hands under your covers and touch yourself, while imagining your hands are his.
You always feel so deeply embarrassed afterwards, and it takes you a while to convince yourself that you’re not a maniac and getting horny after thinking of your sister’s boyfriend's incredibly hot brother is lowkey expected, because he looks like a God.
You both returned to your bedrooms after the clock hit midnight and you both called your families, with you sleeping in your sister’s room and Quinn sleeping in the spare bedroom.
Although, you haven’t even thought about closing your eyes and going to sleep, because you know you won’t be able to— not when Quinn has been nothing but kind to you the entire night and definitely not when he’s only two doors away from you.
You can feel your body starting to get hot, and you want to shout at it, telling yourself to let it go, because you and Quinn won’t ever be a thing.
You look at the clock sitting on your sister’s bedside table and sigh, reading the late hours. Two thirty-six a.m. and you’re nowhere near Dreamland.
Even though you’re basically at the entrance of Hornyland.
Shaking your head, you get up, deciding to brew some chamomile tea for you, since it always helps you feel sleepier and, hopefully, less horny.
The lukewarm air hits your bare thighs and you’re reminded that you’re not wearing any pants— just one of your sister’s oversized sweaters and panties.
You look around the dark house, watching as snow continues to fall outside, and make your way to the kitchen, walking past Quinn’s closed door and trying not to make any sound.
And you would’ve been successful with your task, if it weren’t for the one plastic cup that fell out of the cupboard when you tried to grab your sister’s kettle.
It fell on the floor and bounced three times before you managed to grab it again. You waited to see if you would hear Quinn’s door open, but since you didn’t, you moved on with your task. While you waited for your water to boil, you leaned against your sister’s island, resting your chin in your hand.
“I thought you were asleep.”
This time, you don’t hold back the yelp that comes out of your mouth. You were so worried about waking Quinn up that you hadn’t considered the fact that he, just like you, might as well not have been able to sleep.
He’s sitting on your sister’s couch, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, looking at you with an indecipherable expression. His entire body is illuminated by the moonlight, and he looks gorgeous.
“Quinn. You scared me,” you put your hand over your heart, feeling your cheeks warm when you realize the movement made your sweater go up, and now Quinn probably saw your underwear. “Uh—”
“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he gets up, and he does look apologetic. He gets closer to where you were standing and you can help but take a take back. “Can’t sleep?”
You shake your head. “No. You?”
“I can’t either,” he says. “Too many thoughts.”
You desperately want to ask him what kind of thoughts are keeping him away from his bed, but you remember that it isn’t your place. And the best thing you can do for yourself right now is stay away from him.
“I— I’ll leave you to it then—”
“Why are you always running away from me?”
His serious tone makes you stop. You look up and stare at his eyes, looking like a child who had just been caught eating sweets before dinner.
Your answer is only natural: “I’m not?”
“Yes, you are,” he steps closer, and the distance between the two of you is now shorter. “Did I do something?”
“What?” you gasp. “No, of course not!”
“Then, you just don’t like me?”
“Gosh, why is it with the Hughes that you’re always so straightforward?” you mumble, frustrated. “I promise you, nothing’s wrong.”
“Is it because you want me to fuck you?” He raises his brow and you almost drop dead in front of him.
“What.”
It’s almost comical how your eyes double in size and how your mouth opens, just like in the cartoons. You’re trying really hard not to pack your things and leave, because you’re sure something possessed Quinn.
“I’m not dumb, y’know,” he starts. “I can tell when someone’s interested in me, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”
“Quinn—”
“At first,” he continues, paying you no mind. “I thought you were just shy. Then, I realized you only acted that way with me, but I thought you just didn’t like me. But…”
He lifts his hand up and caresses your cheek, the touch making you shiver instantly.
“Would someone who doesn’t like me stare at me like you do?” He keeps touching your face, the light feather touches barely there, but keeping you restless anyway. “It’s so sweet when you blush like that.”
“Quinn…” you try, once again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”
“Uncomfortable?” he chuckles, like the word alone is enough to make him laugh. “No, sweetheart, you made me hard.”
You blush, thankful that the moonlight isn’t enough to show your red cheeks. “O-Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh,” he smiles, lifting your face just slightly with his thumb on your chin. “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”
I thought you’d never ask, you think. “Yes,” is what you say.
His lips taste like peppermint and his touch on your skin feels like fire. He presses your body against the counter, the cold marble hitting the back of your naked thighs and making you shiver.
It was a pleasant contrast, though: the warmth of his hands holding you close with the coldness of the stone making you shiver.
He kissed you fervently and you moaned inside his mouth, forgetting your shyness and running your fingers through his silky, soft hair. It was like opening presents on Christmas morning, because ever since you were a teenager you’ve been wanting to get your hands on him and now—
“You were right,” you say, breathless. Quinn tilts his head to the side, confused. “I want you to f-fuck me.”
He smirks, mischievously, and it’s probably one of the hottest things you have ever seen.
“Here?” he asks, chuckling.
“No,” you laugh. “My sister would kill me.”
“Mhm.” It’s all he says before picking you up once again, manhandling you however he wanted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.
His bed is untouched when he lays you on it, a clear signal that he hadn’t even laid on it yet. Your sweater rode up, leaving your belly and your panties exposed.
Even though you’re not the type of girl to get embarrassed while having sex, you can feel your cheeks getting warm under Quinn’s lustful gaze. You have imagined this situation so many times before but you never actually thought your dreams would come true, so all of this is still hard for you to take in.
“I can actually hear your brain thinking, Y/n,” Quinn chuckles, standing in front of you. The outline of his dick is so noticeable it has your mouth dry.
“It’s not everyday your crush of years take you to bed,” you let out, only realising what you had just said when you watch his eyebrow going up, and a malicious smile decorate his beautiful face. “I mean—”
“Trust me, Y/n, if I hadn’t spent the last year thinking you hated me, you would’ve ended up in my bed from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”
He leans forward, then starts to pull your panties down. It’s embarrassing to say the least because you know that the fabric which was once pearly, cotton white, is now transparent and ruined. Quinn doesn’t seem to mind that— in fact, the smirk on his face just continues to grow.
“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, and you almost choke on your own spit. “Been thinking about you for so long I’m half convinced this is just another dream.”
He drops your underwear somewhere, and places his index finger between your wet folds, the cold touch contrasting with your hotness. He rubs, up and down, slowly and steady. It has you biting your lips, hard.
“Was it like that with you too, Y/n?” he asks, tone one octave deeper. “Endless dreams of how I would fuck you senseless, leave you wet and whimpering in my sheets, pussy dripping with my cum.”
He kept getting closer to your clit each time he opened his mouth to talk, but he still wasn’t touching it, which was starting to frustrate you.
“Quinn—”
“I’d always wake up hard, with my dick throbbing inside my pants, and you know what I’d do?”
He places his finger on your engorged clit, but doesn’t do anything, just— waits.
“Ask me what I would do, Y/n.” He orders, and you moan before complying.
“What, ah, what would you do?” you ask, and he starts moving his finger again. “Ah.”
“I’d fuck my hand. Wrap my dick around them, holding it tightly, imagining it was your cunt squeezing me like that,” he confesses, opening your legs more, leaving you spread in front of him like you’re nothing but a cheap whore. “And I’d come so hard, imagining I was filling you up. In the next morning, I’d shake hands with you, watching you give me that sweet smile of yours, not even knowing that I had just used it to touch myself while imagining it was you.”
He pressed two fingers on your hole, making you clench around nothing while he seemed to be having fun with your struggle.
“Was it like that with you, too?” he asks again, but you can tell by his reaction that he wasn’t expecting you to answer. Yet, you do it anyway.
“N-not dreams,” you breathe, as he inserts two of his fingers inside you, blue eyes never leaving yours. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d, ah, touch myself, and pretend it was you.”
“Yeah?” he hums, sinking his fingers deeper inside you, the wet sound of sex leaving you dizzy. “Such a naughty, little slut.”
You moan, and Quinn stops holding back as he starts finger fucking you, finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers up until he had you trashing under him. You took pride in knowing your body and mastering the art of touching yourself, but not even in your wildest dreams you’d imagine that having something inside you could feel this good.
You’re not even holding back your sounds, you just let Quinn hear how insane he drives you, and good you’re feeling. You have your eyes closed— because holding eye contact with Quinn might be too much for you to handle— and your boobs exposed, since your sweater rode all the way up.
You can feel your orgasm starting to build up and just when you’re about to warn Quinn about it, he pulls his fingers back, making you cry, loudly.
“Wha— why?” you sound needy and desperate but you pay it no mind.
Quinn smiles, so sweet and kind that you wouldn’t even imagine what came out of his mouth afterwards.
“You’ll come on my cock tonight, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”
The rest of what happens is basically history.
He removes his sweatpants and his dick hits his stomach, the tip almost purple with how red it was. The precum leaking from it made you lick your lips, imagining how good it would feel to have that in your mouth.
He throws the pants somewhere, and lays on top of you, right in the middle of your spread thighs. He looks down and holds his dick, rubbing it up and down on your folds, mixing your wetness with his, and just the view is almost enough to make you come.
He rubs the tip on your clit, and you watch as your swollen, needy button throbs under the nasty touch, and how your pussy leaves his dick glistening with how wet you were.
“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” His voice is calm, and soft, different from previously. You nod, smiling shyly. “Words, baby.”
“‘Mkay,” you answer, closing your eyes as he inserts himself inside you, slowly.
You can feel your walls opening up for him, and even though you’ve had sex before, nothing will ever top this. He’s thick, and you can feel him everywhere, deeper and deeper.
“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say, turning your hands into fists.
“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses, putting his hands on each side of your face. “Squeezing me so good, fuck, Y/n, I might come in seconds if you keep squeezing me like that.”
He removes his dick from you, leaving just the tip, only to slam it back in you, fucking you senseless, just like he told you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room almost as quick as the tears fell from your eyes, the feeling of finally getting what— or who— you wanted making you cry tears of joy.
He kept fucking you, and once his lips found yours once again, you knew you were done. You came on his dick, like he said you’d do, moaning inside his mouth and pulling his hair, harshly.
“Fuck, Quinn, uh,” you inhaled his scent as his naked body engulfed yours completely. “Fuck, fuck.”
“It’s like you were made to, uh, take my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, a clear sign that he was about to come. “Say it, baby, tell me what you were made for.”
“Quinn—”
“Say it, sweetheart,” he whispers.
“I was made to take y-your cock,” you sob. “O-only yours.”
“Only mine?” you can hear the amusement in his voice.
“Only yours.”
“Good,” thrust, “Girl.” Thrust.
He takes his dick out of you just a few seconds before he comes, and the loss of it makes you whimper and hide your face in his neck. The warm feeling of his come against your used, swollen cunt is enough to get another orgasm out of you, even if a little bit weaker this time.
You both stay silent, only the sounds of your breaths filling up the room. The weight of his body on top of you is comforting, and even though you know he’s not putting all of his weight on top of you, you feel safe either way.
“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible, since your face is still in his neck.
He chuckles, breathless. “What are you saying thank you for, baby? I should be the one saying thank you.”
“You just made all of my wet dreams come true,” you explain. “Even if we’re probably going to hell because no one should be having sex on Christmas.”
Quinn laughs and rolls to the side, resting his head on the pillow. “Touché, sweetheart, touché,” he turns his head to the side and looks at you. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”
You smile. “Merry Christmas, Quinny.”
© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist.
#qh43#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes angst#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes imagine#captain quinn#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks imagine#vancouver canucks#hockey x reader#nhl x reader#nhl fic
395 notes
·
View notes
Text
ㅤ❝ I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY AND ONCE A WEEK FOR YOU ❞
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpairing. milf!abby x mechanic!reader
masterlist. warnings. 18+, sub!abby, dom!reader, milf!abby, mechanic!reader, dirty talk (a lot of it, oops), fingering, strap usage, abby just being a needy brat, breeding kink, there’s probably more a/n. merry christmas gays <3 this is a small installation to the milf!abby au me and @vifilms have created. if it’s a little confusing on the jump, don’t worry, you’ll get more parts explaining their relationship before or whatever soon. happy holidays, and if you don’t celebrate it, i hope you all have a blessed day either way <3
milf!abby who doesn’t hesitate to text you when it comes down to her friends having a small get-together, her first instinct was to ask you to come with her, and she was a little too giddy and excited when you replied with ‘of course, more time to spend with a pretty lady’ what she would never admit was that she spent an ungodly amount of minutes looking at your reply, apples of her cheeks crimson red before she replied with her own ‘sounds good, can’t wait to see you’ unaware that on the other side of town, you were already rummaging around in your closet, trying to find something perfect enough, that will go with whatever she picks, to wear. apart from ripped jeans, t-shirts, and a few jackets, you were at a loss. confused on what to wear to a small party with people who would dress up a little more … sophisticated-like. the bright colors, the pretty pearls. that wasn’t you. you were content with your hoodies, your jeans, your button-up shirts, and sweatpants. not what they love to wear.
milf!abby can’t focus the second you walk through the door that same night, dressed in a pair of jeans, heavy boots paired with a white shirt, and a jacket. she’s seen you in nothing but a tank top, oil and grease covering your arms, and even then you looked hot working on her car every day, you looked ethereal and more handsome tonight. abby doesn’t know how to react when she finds you talking to some of her friends, offering to help if they need it, seconds later. she thinks it’s kind that you are offering even though you were a guest. one of the many things she adores about you. always wanting to help.
milf!abby drags you away from the party not even 15 minutes later. her hands cupping your face, while yours are instantly pulling down the dress she was wearing, down over her shoulders, and bunching it around her hips as you cup both her tits and squeeze them in the palm of your hands, the second she pulls you into the bathroom. the soft sounds of her whines and whimpers fill the echoed room while you simply grin against her neck, pinching and pulling at her hard pebbled nipples. her head rests against the bathroom door, the whimpers tumbling from her shamelessly has you growling into her neck and slipping your leg between her thigh. a sinister grin appearing on your lips at her sudden gasp, wrapping her arm around your neck and holding you to her. “i bet if i put my hand up your dress right now, you’re gonna be soaked, hm?” you muttered against her flushed skin. “don’t even have to tell me, i know.” your mocking words had abby’s heart pounding in her chest, cunt clenching around nothing and cheeks flushed while she nods desperately. “love your tits so much, so fuckin’ pretty”
milf!abby’s eyes roll back in her head when you’re placing your hand over her mouth, muffling the sounds thats dripping from between her cherry red swollen lips as you bury your fingers deep in her cunt, groaning softly under your breath at the way she clenches around you tightly. “you know how much i love to hear you, but you gotta be quiet f’me, sweetheart, hm?” you coo, kissing away the tears streaking her face. “i know you can do it, don’t wanna get caught, do you?”
“m’sorry, just feels s’good.” abby whimpered against your hand, voice hitching when the palm of your hand rubbed against her neglected clit. fingers clutching at your crumpled shirt, knuckles white with the sheer iron grip she has on you. it makes you laugh, making her whine with a deeper blush knowing just how fucking needy she is. needy for you to touch her, making a mess of her, and have her weak in the knees. you only have to look at her, and she’s begging for you.
“yeah, i can tell, practically soaking my hand.”
that just makes abby clench around you harder.
milf!abby clings to you for dear life and whimpers loudly into your neck when she gushes all over your fingers minutes later, slick running down the inners of her thigh and another whimper is ripped from her throat as you gently pull your fingers out of her cunt, bringing those fingers straight to your mouth with a grin. her pupils dilate more, if that’s even possible when you wrap your lips around them and suck. the moan you let out at the taste of her, has her rubbing her thighs together again. an action that you don’t miss. “taste just as sweet as last night, sweetheart.” you hummed with a cheeky grin, leaned forward, and kissed the side of her mouth. laughing at her whine. “patience, baby. just a little longer, and i promise, you can have my cock later.”
milf!abby is pathetic and whiny when you’ve finally got her bent over the sink, dress still bunched over her hips, panties in your back pocket for a keepsake, and she can’t hold back on those sounds you love to hear so much when your cock is deep inside her cunt. stretching her out perfectly, like her pussy was made for you. you could tell she was struggling to keep it down, not wanting her friends to hear. you on the other hand, were crazy. you wouldn’t care at all if they heard the pretty sounds you were pulling from her with each thrust of your hips.
“wish i could feel you” you groaned, hands iron grip on her hips, pulling her back and down on your cock. your eyes dropping to shamelessly watching the way her cunt practically sucks your strap back inside of her. only for your eyes to snap up at the soft whine to find abby with her head buried in the bend of her elbow, trying to muffle her sounds. “lemme hear you, baby, yeah?” you cooed, tangling your fingers into her soft blonde locks and pulled her head back carefully. “yeah, you look so pretty like this” you smirked at her through the mirror. “look so sexy while i split you open on my cock.”
abby wasn’t sure whether to look at you or herself. her hair was disheveled, her light makeup ruined, cheeks flushed, hips bruised due to your grip, and her lips all red and swollen. if you both walked out of the bathroom now, everyone would know. they would all know what happened, and maybe that excites abby a little because her cunt clenches around your cock, gasps, and jolts against the mirror when you’re removing your hand from her hip, to reach down between her legs and rub light circles on her clit. “just needed to have all your worries and thoughts fucked out that pretty head of yours hm? don’t worry, sweetheart, m’gonna fuck you until you can barely remember your own name.”
the blonde opens her mouth to reply, brain completely empty and cheeks flushed darker red if that’s even possible, but her attempt at trying to reply to your words fail when you angle your hips just perfectly, your cock is deliciously rubbing that spot deep inside her and abby’s hand is quick to slip between her legs and rub circles on her clit with you. “fuck, fuck, right there, please please—” her voice breaks and her head slumps against her mirror, her breath fogging up the glass. “i need—”
“what do you need, hm baby? need me to fuck you until you can’t walk? mark you up? show everyone you’re mine?” you listed, groaning against her neck and fucking her hard, rubbing her clit faster. “need me to fill you up, s’that what you need? fill you up and make you a mama?”
“yes! yes yes, please—” abby’s chokes out, a little too late to warn you or barely registers a warning as her body tenses beneath you and gushes over your cock with a loud gasped whimper that has you putting your mouth over her mouth, not wanting her friends to know what was happening, even if it was something you so badly wanted deep down. “oh—” she sighs against your hand, eyes fluttering closed again as you slowly fuck her through her orgasm.
“me saying i wanna make you a mama did it for you, huh?” you laughed against her ear, your breath fanning her skin hotly as you ran your nose up and down her neck. enjoying the way she lifts her head up and looks at you through the mirror. completely fucked out. only for you to groan softly when she’s pushing back against you with a whine. “sweetheart,”
“wanna make you cum”
“later, you can do whatever you want”
milf!abby can’t avoid the grins and smirks her friends give her when you both finally make your way back downstairs to find them in the kitchen. they wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the fact that abby was patting down her hair, fixing her dress. or you, in all your glory, were butting up your shirt, not caring at all that they were grinning your way. “have fun, abby?” one teased, eyeing up the marks on her neck. “it looks like you guys both had a lot of fun”
glaring at her friend, abby simply huffed, wrapped her arm around yours and scowled. “stop it!” she mumbled, trying to hide the obvious blush coating her face. while you, being a shit, were just laughing softly against her head. “don’t encourage them!”
“m’not doing anything” you grinned, hand slipping down to her lower back and kissing behind her ear. a place you know that always has her melting in your hands. “you don’t have to tell me you had fun, the sounds you were making are enough for me to know, sweetheart.” you whispered in her ear before walking away into the kitchen. that stupid fucking smirk, a smirk she loves a little too much, resting on your lips.
milf!abby who cannot wait until this little party is over so that she can go home and hold you up on your promise of letting her do whatever she wants to do to you. for the time being, she’s just going to have to sit there and let her friends tease her about the sounds that were coming from the bathroom, and ignoring the way you simply looked at her, slumped between two of her friends, legs spread with a beer in your hand and a grin on your face each time she would grow redder at their constant teasing. she just needed to get this party out of the way so she could have you all to herself once again, free to do whatever she wanted, and you were excited, to say the least.
#milf!abby#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson headcanons#abby tlou#abby x reader
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whenever his kids are being little shits, more so than usual, Bruce will definitely go on social media and make problems
The public loves the batboys but Bruce Wayne will always be their #1
They rally around him immediately and in 2.5 seconds all the batboys being canceled is trending on Twitter
Bruce enjoys it a lot but shuts down any posts that are genuinely offensive, racist, or suggest that Bruce should’ve never adopted them
But other than that, he loves seeing his kids annoyed faces when people online are telling them to be nice to their Dad.
——
Bruce: *posts a video to Twitter. He’s sniffling and teary eyed with a wobbly smile on his face, obviously trying not to break down and cry* Hey Twitter… d-does anyone know how to make your kids n-nicer to you *sob* n-nothing happened… I just… never mind I’m sorry about this. T-they’ll be mad at me if they find out. I don’t want them mad again *phone falls onto the bed and muffled sobbing is heard before the video abruptly ends with the sound of the the batboys busting in and yelling at Bruce*
Dick: Bruce! I lost over 10 thousand followers! What did you do!?
Bruce: *wiping his tears away with a stoic face* What do you mean Chum? I haven’t done anything
Tim: *screech from the ether* BRUCE! WHAT DID YOU DO?!
Bruce: You’re all so mean to me *surpressing a grin*
Jason: This is exactly why I deleted my account
——
This happens like twice a year. Sometimes more if they’ve really been pissing him off.
On the downside, all of his kids refuse to go to any Gala with him, so he’s gotta suffer alone. They refuse to be in front of the media until it all dies down
Bruce makes them some brownies and allows them to pick their patrol route for the next week for forgiveness
#dc universe#dcu#batman#bruce wayne#batfam#bruce wayne is a good parent#good dad bruce wayne#dc#tim drake#dick grayson#batboys#batkids#gotham
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
🏛️ emperor caracalla ; headcanons ⋆₊𐕣˚𖤐 ݁。☽
content warning: fem!reader. mentions of blood, killing and sickness, cheating, possessiveness, toxicity. idk if there’s anything else.
word count: 0.7k
author’s note: first time writing headcanons, so constructive criticism is welcomed. and english is my third language so please bear with me. i apologize for any mistake 🙏🏻 also, i’m unlocking a new obsession, so i needed to write for caracalla asap. i’m gonna write for other fred characters too because that man has me down bad. that’s it! enjoyyy! <3
emperor caracalla is a menace with an insane duality and you know that better than anyone
we have 1) mad ruler with an insatiable thirst for blood
you ALWAYS go to the games
he demands wants you there with him
(not like you have much choice being married to him)
but still, he loves to know you’re there. mostly because he actually enjoys sharing his passion and spending time with you. buuut, also because he REALLY likes to show you off. (you love seeing him all giggly clapping and yelling tho)
and let me tell you, he takes every opportunity to do so. to remind everyone that you’re his. and to brag in front of his pretty much unmarried brother.
i’m talking hand rubbing your thigh when sitting by his side (he does it absentmindedly, it’s genuinely cute), arm around your waist during feasts, sitting on his lap when watching combats, theatre or any sort of entertainment and a ton of PDA.
both of them are possessive, but he is more subtle, not as straightforward
regarding Geta, you two have an… odd relationship. he’s thankful there’s someone else to deal with his brother’s madness. but he’s suspicious of your intentions. tho jealous.
some would even say not only of the marriage itself…
caracalla knows, and absolutely feeds on it. he finally has something that belongs to him and only him
god forbid someone doesn’t get it
Dondus has grown to adore you. you’re like his other parent -he’s adopted you as such.
squeaks at you and happily climbs your arm to rest on your shoulder
loves using your braids as little ladders
and snuggling against your neck too
he’s just so cute can u tell i love him :3
anyways
and 2) sappy child
he follows you around like a puppy
you hate it when he gets overwhelmed, he tends to hide and isolate himself
you end up acting like his mother
gets insecure of his real face and keeps it from you
needs a lot of reassurance
the guards always look for you when he has an outburst
your touch and presence are the only things that ground him
LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling
clings to you like he needs you to breathe
good luck waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom 💀
play with his hair and he’s GONE
big on pet names
to you is always “my love” “my dear” “my darling” “my wife” “my empress”
emphasis on the “my”
everything’s fine with him but “sweet boy” makes him melt
and obviously “my emperor” cause it makes him feel powerful
and compliments too
spoils and pampers the shit out of you
jewels, clothes, animals, entertainers, you name it
absolutely whipped
loves kissing
now, it can’t all be a fairytale 😞
sometimes you feel like he loves Dondus more than you
and it seems that some men being forced to kill each other brings him more happiness than you ever could
he can switch from sad to angry in a matter of seconds and sometimes his sudden change of tone and expressions startles you
🚩 🚩🚩
being married to a sick man is hard
many palace servants and guards feel bad for you
paranoid
thinks you don’t love him anymore and are going to leave him quite often
obsessive
if you say something that feels ‘off’ to him get ready for an intense interrogation
possessive and extremely jealous
cause why the fuck where you laughing with some random man?
he’d threaten to kill him and would probably get rough with you
hates other people touching you
gets violent
has hurt you before during one of his fits
regrets it afterwards but has a hard time apologizing
would probably be unfaithful. i know, i hate it too 🥲
over all i think he wouldn’t be that bad of a husband, like it could be way worse
and i say he could genuinely love you, it just wouldn’t be the healthiest of loves
but you can try to fix him girl ✨✨
#Spotify#gladiator 2#gladiator ii#gladiator fanfiction#emperor caracalla#caracalla x reader#gladiator caracalla#caracalla x you#caracalla headcanons#fred hechinger#fred hechinger x reader#fred hechinger x you#gladiator 2 headcanons#gladiator ii headcanons
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why Leona Gave Himself The Bad Ending
Leona Kingscholar Analysis
Usual disclaimer to say that these are just my thoughts and you don’t have to feel pressured to agree. This was my thought process as I played through the parts of Chapter 7 Parts 212-226, featuring Leona’s dream triggered by Malleus’s magic.
--
I wanna start off by saying that I believe all the dreams are a mixture of Malleus’s magic and the dreamers themselves.
Idia theorized that Malleus is sort of “setting up the parameters” in a way, then each of the dreamers' personalities and imaginations affect the dream in different ways. The emphasis of this has been brought by Idia several times that it’s the strength of imagination that determines how complex dreams are. Which is maybe why in the first years dreams seem so basic? They’re young, their magical abilities are still new, and their magic is no match for Malleus’s magic. That and, to be fair, most of the first years don’t have the same amount of angst and turmoil as some of the other second years and third years have.
With that being said, I believe that because of his high intelligence, magical prowess, and his hyper-vigilance, that is the main reason Leona’s dream was so…different than the others.
But let's get into it!
There are a lot of Lion King references in this dream, and it’s very clear the writers wanted to play around and show this off. I feel like they did a good job of integrating the themes of the movie into Leona's dream. It does give me a little validation as I feel Leona’s struggles and personality are closely linked to his great Seven Counterpart, Scar. More so than any of the other overblotters. When I analyze Leona I sometimes I do use Scar as a starting point to understand his intentions.
This is how I came to the conclusion long ago that being king would never make Leona happy because it's not what he truly wants.
We start with the dream back in the Sunset Savanna. It’s VERY interesting to see that there is hyena prejudice right off the bat as a woman flees from Ruggie while he attempts to buy food.
Right off, everyone can tell something is…off about the city. Especially coming fresh from Ruggie’s dream where everything was idyllic and happy for hyenas BECAUSE of Leona.
Grim hits us with the: “I laugh in the face of danger!” line. We even get the three hyenas referenced and the “love for you to stick around for dinner” line. The once proud lioness-dominated palace guard has been taken over by hyena “ruffians” (interesting choice to portray a disenfranchised group being given jobs as the new guard as a negative thing, but moving on.)
The first interesting thing we get is that the palace is somewhat rundown and empty? The group makes comments of how dark and dreary it is, and how few people are around. Is there an implication that the servants fled at some point after Leona became King or did he replace them? This further shows me that Leona for whatever reason has chosen to isolate himself. To me, it's most likely that he already feels isolated by his country and those in the palace.
From the looks of it “Malleus’s magic” has given Leona the one thing he has always wanted, but has he? Leona seems less than thrilled and genuinely upset by the fact his whole family is...gone. As I mentioned in my Leona relationships post, I think that he holds a complex relationship with his family, and while he resents them, in no way can I see him wanting them to be dead.
It’s now I started to think that Leona’s magic was overriding the simple “let them eat cake” logic of all of the happier dreams. This dream feels TOO real, dark, dreary, and…sad. Could it be Leona’s intelligence or cynicism, ruining what’s supposed to be an idyllic scenario?
Why is even in his WILDEST dreams Leona is still miserable?
Hmm.
A lot of people have talked about Kifaji and their thoughts on his presence. It’s strange to see people praise him as “a loving parental figure” as if he’s really there trying to help Leona. But, Kifaji is not there. This Kifaji is a manifestation of Leona’s mind and I’ll get to why that’s interesting and what I think he represents. Remember, that often in other dreams we’ve seen of loved ones or rivals and they can act normal, out of character, or even cruel. Vil and Neigie come to mind and Neige turned out to be the blot keeping Vil asleep.
Kifaji is a bit different. He actively tries to help the group wake Leona as opposed to encouraging the twisted dream logic. For this reason, to me, Kifaji represents Leona’s conscious and the Dream!Leona we see represents his shadow self, like the dark side of the moon. AKA, the Leona we meet in Chapter 2. In fact, this whole dream feels like a rehash of Chapter 2.
We get the outdated Leona that dumbs himself down and settles for less, cloaking himself in his pride and believing that everyone is below him. An idle king while he lets others do his dirty work. (Scar basically.)
Leona asks Kifaji to sing (another Lion King reference) and it plays out how you would think. Leona tells Kifaji that he is the only competent person in the kingdom. And he argues that the kingdom is in shambles, not because of his choices as King, but because everyone else sucks basically.
Hmm.
Kifaji reminds Leona that while he is clever and his plans are grand, that he can not treat people like human chess pieces. (Can I just say I love when chess is brought up to us because I find that when people analyze Leona or his thoughts they often forget how much he uses chess to process his thoughts. We saw that plenty in the Tamashina Mina event!) I think it helps him sort his thoughts and emotions which he can have a hard time doing.
I think Kifaji represents Leona’s mindset post Chapter 2 and because Kifaji in his real life is one of the only people who probably stands up to Leona, he has placed him in this antagonist role in his mind. (but not really) Plus, it’s not far off from Kifaji’s actual treatment of Leona in the Tamashina Mina event.
So yeah, Leona acts more like he does in Chapter 2—he's the player or the king even and everyone else around is just lowly pieces.
Just like the scene from The Lion King, Scar and Leona are not happy. Even though they are supposedly getting their deepest desire, they remain bitter and…alone.
When I first began to read into Leona it was quite obvious to me that the whole “I’ll never be king" thing was just a front for something else. What I think Leona truly craves is approval and acceptance.
Being king, especially of a broken kingdom that despises him, will never make him happy. But, why do the people not love him? This is supposed to be a fantasy right?
There is this interesting layer of how he became king too. Instead of Cheka or Falena simply not existing, like I thought it might be, they are dead. That is…so much more tragic than it needed to be. As if deep down Leona believes the only way he can become king (his dreams to come true) is if tragedy happens. This reminds me of his bitter view/the symbolism of his unique magic. That he can only bring misery wherever he goes—everything he touches turns to sand.
I also think that Leona is afraid of failing and much of this dream is his anxieties and insecurities that linger from all his past failures.
Though interestingly enough, I sense that in the dream, as implied later by Idia, Leona has implemented an “over-exaggeration” of his policies and plans for the kingdom. It was almost like he purposely ran his resources dry and gave up trying to compromise with anyone for the sake of “progress.”
Why, though?
It’s very masochistic in a way. It’s almost like he wanted to prove himself right. Everything he touches will turn to sand eventually and his grand plans will fail even if he claims they are “perfect.”
That’s why this dream is probably the most masochistic and self-deprecating we have seen. I think what initially began to draw me to Leona’s character is because of the hidden pain he holds. He is by far one of the most easygoing, and lackadaisical acting of the cast, but…he cares, he cares so, so much about how he is perceived and his haunted by his hopelessness about his future and the failures of his past.
I think the pain of never feeling good enough, causes his mind to be unable to “play nice” with Malleus’s dream magic to even manifest any sort of positive future. One where he holds a position he wants AND is loved and respected. it’s just impossible that he could ever have that, even in his wildest dreams.
He’s too much of a “realist.”
Side tangent, but a frustrating take is to see was the: “Oh yeah, see? He would have sucked as king.” tinged comments after this came out.
I think it’s more complicated than that.
This isn’t me trying to defend him necessarily, but to be fair, all dreams tend to be over exaggerations by the dreamer. Plus, I think the fact that Ruggie HATES Leona in this dream and is suddenly in favor of Falena, is a sign right there we can not trust Leona’s interpretation of the people he knows in his dream. He is sort of an unreliable narrator that way.
Besides, like in The Lion King, why would all the water dry up, just because the hyenas over-hunted?
A big theme in Lion King and even The Lion Guard TV show is "the balance of nature." The blight upon the Pridelands when Scar takes over feels more like symbolism of the “unbalance of nature” caused by the tragedy of Mufasa’s death. Which makes me again, connect that Leona feels the only way he can succeed is by inflicting misery on others. Like his magic, perhaps a part of him believes he is a curse.
I theorized in my Tamashina Mina review, that maybe Leona feels like an outcast himself, and the separation he feels from his country is showcased in how he blames the citizens for the decline of the kingdom, rather than his plans. He feels isolated from them.
By this point, I was having flashbacks to Chapter 2, where he got a whiff of his plan failing and he still pushed through even though he knew it would fail. At first, he may have started doing okay as king, but maybe when he came upon too many obstacles or pushback, He just gave up. Because he was not instantly loved by the people, who probably already feared him, he’d rather not even try. Suddenly, they are “not worth his time”, and he can’t help them because they suck.
Leona’s problem has always been his pride. I think he has to put it aside to genuinely help people reach their potential and learn to collaborate with others more. Part of how this dream plays out, is him realizing that maybe some criticisms Kifaji had about his pride all along may be true. Leona refuses to play nice with others.
That’s why I think Kifaji represents a more sensible and lucid Leona. He is in a sense, talking to his past self, and trying to shake himself from the dream and his outdated ideals.
Ortho even points out that Ruggie is not really the Ruggie we know but rather a part of Leona’s imagination. Again, which puts emphasis on how the characters in his dream are more indicative of his mindset as opposed to being “in character”. Maybe Ruggie hating him in his dream is his inner anxieties about him and Ruggie post Chapter 2 fallout. He feels like Ruggie could never forgive him for what he did. He let him down. And Leona being bad with people and feelings, doesn’t know the proper way to apologize.
Kifaji (woke Leona) says that the state of the kingdom is a result of him “pursuing efficiency over all things and disregarding other people's feelings.” It really feels like he is calling himself out here. Does he REALLY wanna help people? Or is it just Leona’s selfish pride who wants attention for just being smart?
Dream!Leona complains about the protesters interrupting his nap which is another sign for me of the exaggeration of the scenario of Leona being the king. Like...did he not criticize Falena for having the same carefree and laid-back attitude? And yet here he is...complacent in the same behavior he once criticized Falena of.
Interesting.
Ortho mentions that Leona’s dream is clearly a more complex situation than the other dreams.
I think there is a key implication we are missing here too, that I haven’t seen many mention. There is a throwaway line that Jack mentions that Leona has not attended school and is king instead. And he doesn't seem to know Dream!Ruggie either. Nor Ruggie him.
There is no doubt his time at NRC has shaped him to be the Leona we know now. Someone who has at least somewhat benefited with the connections he made at school. It does seem like this Dream!Leona is regressed. And because he never attended school, he is a much colder person who has no regard for others' feelings at all. He is even more socially inept.
I feel like this is a common theme to show us that despite the independent nature of most of the students at NRC, that it can still be “the friends we made along the way.” trope. These connections do matter and especially to Leona. He mentions this in his post-overblot monologue in the light novel. He found his pack at NRC. This time with his dorm members affected his personality for the better. It's kinda sweet when you think about it!
Ortho mentions Dream!Leona appears DEEPLY absorbed in the delusions of his dream. This means that even though he has the lucid failsafe of Kifaji, Leona’s self-deprecation, despair, and pain are still overtaking his logic. That's what's crafted this nightmare. (And he later references it as such.)
Everyone acknowledges that he can’t possibly be happy and looks EVEN MORE miserable than at school. It can't be a silly happy fantasy, but a grim dark reality of what he thinks of himself.
That's why he gave himself the bad ending.
I love the double entendre of Idia saying Leona is building his dream like a “sandbox” game. Lots of Minecraft references. (Leona Minecrafter confirmed? Or hear me out…Leona playing King Crusaders or Civilization V FGHJ)
Anyways, Idia or Ortho, (I forget) suggests that perhaps he has run out of ”simulations” for his dream playthrough. And being an intelligent person his mind tends to overthink naturally and this caused his dream to have a more realistic tone. Plus, I theorize that because Leona is powerful and his intelligent, his magic and imagination was almost able to overwrite Malleus's, a standard happy dream formula.
Ortho suggests Leona chose a more “realistic mode “on purpose.” Perhaps like I theorized earlier, it is almost a masochistic test to see if he could have everything he wanted? Leona is a very analytical person who enjoys games. It makes sense, the way he often plays chess alone to practice “strategies.” But as I mentioned before, I think he just genuinely believes it's not possible. Ortho mentions he thinks Leona’s the type to understand that an “aggressive urban development” would come with risks.
Jack asks “If Leona knew this was a bad plan then why would he make the citizens suffer and be hated?” (Sheesh, now we know Leona really is the type to play pretend and get a lil too real with it.)
Ruggie adds that Leona may be “doing something he knows he shouldn't be on purpose.” Like maybe he did it to be dastardly and maybe he just wanted to “feel the rush” of being a ruthless and hated king.
When Azul asks Ruggie if he thinks Leona takes pleasure in immoral things he says that he can't say for sure, only that he is a prince that no doubt can take pleasure in “bad things”.
To me, however, it feels like a masochistic move to prove to himself his happiness is unattainable.
Then Sebek chimes in: “How could he go so far to kill his family only to abandon his responsibilities as a king and become a horrible one?"
No one seems to know for sure. Everyone in the group has their theories but the consensus in the group is that - nobody fuckin’ knows why this guy intricately carved himself such a miserable fantasy for himself. Very masochistic for a guy who appears to be so proud huh?
Idia continues to mention that Leona’s imagination is so vast compared to everyone else's. It fills out a whole “world” completely and the mechanics of this world must make sense. He's playing on hard mode. In Leona’s brain this seemed to manifest as if he is to “get what he wants” it can't be serendipitous or through triumph, IT MUST be through tragedy.
Can we lighten up a little?
Again, he may have started to do “good work” but quickly realized that keeping up with all to create a perfect kingdom was waaaay over his head. Maybe he was afraid to give it his all, because he knew everyone would still hate him anyway.
Another reason I think Leona thrives better as a “big fish in a small pond” so to speak. Like his dorm leader role where he can interact directly with his cute (this man used this word a lot for some reason) froshes, make tangible make things better for a small group or community.
But as we saw, even with his dorm Leona began to feel overwhelmed with the pretty promises he made to his underclassmen in Chapter 2 about the Spelldrive tournament. He like…wants to be wanted but he’s terrified of people actually relying on him, because trying your best and then failing anyways is the most painful thing to him. His instinct when he gets too frustrated with something is to act like he never cared about it in the first place or anyone. AKA “I did everything right and it's THE REST OF YOU who are incompetent.”
That’s why I personally think that in the future Leona working within a small community might be a better fit for him, using his skills to see potential in others as a way to connect with them and teach them how to thrive.
So yeah, needless to say the group is stumped on analyzing Leona’s intentions and Azul hilariously notes that Leona is just…a complicated person.
What an understatement.
The group hatches a silly plan to have Ruggie puppet a Cheka hologram and yeah obviously it didn’t work.
This is where it started to get interesting again.
Dream!Kifaji said he’s been “waiting for the day Leona would wake up from his bad dream” and joins the fight against him to wake him. It’s like Leona telling himself that it's time to let his original dream go.
Ortho is surprised Kifaji is on their side, that he should be the darkness pulling Leona back in, but like I mentioned I think Kifaji is actually a “fail safe” Leona created to stay lucid or...maybe the little bit of hope he has fostered now that he has grown from Chapters 2’s events.
Since Kifaji is the one to normally call him out, maybe he's Leona’s way of processing his relationship with him. And that maybe…sometimes as annoying as Kifaji is, he has a point. Kifaji is the one who is implied to have raised him after all, so it's no surprise Leona sees him in a father-like role more than his own father.
“No one understands me, it's not my fault.” Leona laments running away, running away from himself.
Reminds me a lot of Chapter 2 Leona where he began to feel sorry for himself instead of actually trying to fix things. It's clear that no matter how smart and mature Leona is…is that he still has a lot of growing to do. And that his relationship with his family and country are complex. There is not a black and white or good and bad with this situation and I feel like this is important when talking about him and his relationships with his family.
He was very much ostracized and probably neglected to some extent by his real parents but at a certain point, Leona decided to give up on improving himself just because he didn't achieve the results he wanted to. It's one of his biggest flaw.
His complacency is what drags him further into the darkness. Not Kifaji.
Sitting and stewing in his despair and how unfair his life has been instead of reaching out. Rehashing all thise chess strategies alone on his chess board until his brain hurts. Making grandiose plans instead of actually working hard toward a realistic goal.
The idle king. A king with naught. (Nothing.)
I am now realizing that in a way (because Ruggie and Leona are so similar) Jack is Leona’s foil; he is the determined and earnest one who admires Leona at his best. He still holds the innocence and the idealism of working hard.
The group jumped through the darkness with Leona and we are replaying the events of Chapter 2 once again.
Ruggie and Jack watch it go down in dismay. Ruggie addresses that he once did think Leona’s way of thinking/plan was good and it’s cool to see he clearly regrets it now too.
They watch the drama play out as if Leona’s plan in Chapter 2 actually succeeded and see that he craves more. More ways for Savanaclaw to get ahead by unsavory means.
Jack says even if Leona becomes king there will be no end to his dissatisfaction. BOOM, there it is.
That is why Chapter 2 is so mind boggling. Leona’s whole speech was about being king and second. But it’s clear now, it's not what he truly wants. I think Leona is afraid to admit what he really wants. Because that takes vulnerability and then comes the possibility of being rejected.
Jack also notes that, despite Leona getting “everything he wanted” he seems more grumpier and dissatisfied than usual.
“Leona is not your King, hes’ our Dorm Leader,” Jack growls. They fight and we get a nice callback to Lion King here. “Remember who you are.”
As Leona wakes up from his dreams he straight up says, yeah the scheme from Chapter 2 was…stupid. (Nice.)
Oh and we finally get some acknowledgement that Ruggie feels like Leona abandoned him in Chapter 2 which SHEEEEEEEESH. This is a deep cut for me, considering Ruggie’s real dad abandoned him. And it really confirms the fact he sees Leona as a father/big brother figure.
But, Leona doesn't, he sacrifices himself for Ruggie as the whole group tries to escape the crumbling dream. And while Ruggie cries out for Leona, Leona goes down smirking not knowing what will happen to him.
It’s time for him to face himself, his blot monster.
Blot!Leona wants them dead, all of them. Cheka, Falena, everyone. The real Leona finds it kind of pathetic. Because, in reality, I don't think Leona hates Cheka or Falena and he doesn't want to be alone anymore.
Leona admits to his blot that yeah, no he can’t do the job. He can’t be king. And instead of it being a negative it’s more a relief? Maybe he is incompetent too. He is addressing himself and his previous grandiose illusions. He hasn’t done anything worthy of being king.
However, he will not give up. He’s finally living up to Savanaclaw’s motto of perseverance (which he sorta laughed off in Chapter 2?)
This next part is what struck me the most because. He just lays it out so simply, finally saying it out loud.
Self awareness!! Like he finally said it!! (And I felt very vindicated in this moment, NGL)
What he desires most is the approval of others.
Ah, and Blot!Leona responds with the fact he can't earnestly try, it's too painful to think of failing. Props for Leona acknowledging his flaws! Just like with the other overblotters. But I'm especially floored here because of how PRIDEFUL he is all the time.
In order to have better relationships with people, he has to leave that whole “they all hated me” shit behind. Because in reality, there are people who care for him despite his flaws. There are those who look up to him and admire him, for him.
But, the idea of that I think is so…crazy to him that he tends to deny its very existence. Then when he is genuinely complimented on his leadership or whatever skills he brushes it off.
He calls himself disgusting which feels kinda sad but it’s proof he has moved on from his previous way of things. What did I say earlier? Leona is afraid of failure.
Giving being a king a earnest optimistic go is too painful for him because ultimately he is afraid of failing. Like he was happier to play the role of tyrannical king than to bother to build relations with the citizens of his kingdom.
As his blot self withers away it’s almost…sad compared to the previous blot monster showdowns we’ve seen. It mentions something about “his friends” (A reference to Scar’s final words.) like he’s reaching out for Leona so it's not alone anymore. And Leona almost embraces his monster? It’s clear he feels pity for this thing…him. His pain, his depression, his loneliness. Maybe a step in the way of self-love? He acknowledges (almost as to soothe it) that it will always be with him, clawing from inside. Except now, he won’t give up.
He vows that he will get what he wants one day, for both of them. He’ll have his “own throne and pride” instead of wanting for someone else’s. He’ll find his place to belong through his own merit.
It reminds me of that expression “find your own tribe” which is an expression that those who are not close to heirt families understand all too well. He wants to find satisfaction outside his desire to rule and maybe because we know he prefers NRC to home, this confirms his fondness for his dorm life. (Savanaclaw found a family dorm.)
When he returns to his original dream of being king Kifaji is there as they look on at Pride Rock. The fact that it is raining is telling that hope has returned. (Just like at the end of Lion King) and that by accepting that “being king” is not what he really wants now “all things are balanced again”.
They have a nice moment here. Leona acknowledging that he has been given the tools to do good things by Kifaji’s training is a big mature moment for him. (Especially how they acted toward one another in the Tamashina Mina event) And Kifaji praising him, since this a dream, could be a testament to what he wishes would happen between them.
AKA Leona finally feels more, “at peace” with himself.
As Leona destroys this false kingdom with his sand he seems reserved, it’s almost bittersweet as it all settles over him, his new found aspirations, letting the old ones go. He's letting the past go. A big theme in Lion King. (I really feel the writers must be fans of the movies.)
Kifaji says: “Go to the place you really belong.”
This line kinda got me. Because the implication is that Night Raven College and his dorm is where he really belongs. Leona is confirming that his experiences at NRC have shaped who he is SO MUCH.
For years he accepted his life as it was, a cage, and now he is acknowledging that he has the power to break that cage and do whatever he wants. It’s a great callback to the advice he gave Jamil in Chapter 6.
This is quite refreshing as he mentioned before that it was too “late for him”. Now, he realizes it isn’t.
Back with the gang, Ruggie admits his fear that Leona will abandon him again. Leona denies it, and says somewhat casually that he is in fact a true friend of his. This feels like a clever inversion of the line that Scar says to the hyenas about being his “friends.”
But, we know now that Leona does mean it now. And this shows Leona’s desire to finally stray from the “path” of his Great Seven counterpart and actually like…have friends?
The reunion of the Savanaclaw trio is actually really sweet. For a dorm full of cocky jocks with strong personalities they seem to be so genuinely happy to be reunited.
Jack bursting out into tears and crying got me tearing up. Like Ruggie and Leona clearly are bit more reserved in their emotions but we see Savanaclaw really are close, despite their disagreements. They care for one another as a dysfunctional little family.
As a dorm that doesn't get much mainstream attention compared to others it was so nice to have this little moment. It's hard to tell, but I’m 99% sure there was a group hug based on how the sprites moved and the sound effects. At least a nice back pat from Leona. (Thanks, dad.)
All in all, I really...enjoyed his dream section. As someone who is pretty hyper-critical, for the most part, it satisfied most of the things I wanted to feel. I even got emotional at a few points! Yes, it would have been nicer to spend more time with “king” Leona and dive into it more. Or get more lore about his family. But, he admitted it FINALLY, everything I have clocked about him all those years ago. It’s very satisfying to see his growth in a tangible straightforward way, instead of just me reading between the lines.
I hope we will continue to see even more growth with his character (Like we did in the Halloween event) and I’m excited to see the role he will play in the rest of Chapter 7, even if it’s just him being a cranky old man. (What do you expect he was raised by one?)
I'd like to end this with some positivity. As someone who deep dives into character stuff a lot I know it's really comforting to see part of yourself reflected back in your favorite characters.
To anyone reading who feels they have things in common with Leona or his despair, the truth is that you should keep going, even if it's just to spite the world itself.
Your vision and presence in this world are valid all on their own and that failing is not indicative of your value as a person. It never will be.
Keep fighting to find your place, your pack and never forget who you are.💚
--
Thanks for reading!! This one took quite a bit to edit and think through so if you like my Leona analyses, I’d appreciate a reblog or even just if you wanna share it with your friends! Shoutout to the youtuber ガスマスクゲーマー whose video I pulled these screenshots from. Thank you!
#twst#leona kingscholar#twst chapter 7#leona twst#charcter analysis#twst leona#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#savanaclaw#twst analysis#bunnwich writes📝
232 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rant incoming, this got out of hand sorry.
Also, a lot of these foods do actually have distinct ‘styles’ that are really only Israeli. Take shakshuka for example— it’s a North African dish, created around Morocco and Tunisia, but it’s eaten as far as Turkiye and Greece (side note: went to Greece recently, they have amazing green shakshuka, but I guess we aren’t allowed to eat it cause it’s eeeevil appropriation). Speaking of Turkiye, they’re a great example of a specific regional style. Their shakshuka tends to be spicier and have yoghurt or cheese on top if it. It’s pretty easy to tell that it’s shakshuka, but it’s also very clear that this isn’t your standard North African one, and if you know how they do it in Turkiye then it’s easily recognisable.
Israeli shakshuka is the same. It’s made with a lot of cooked onions and herbs, definitely more than the any other of the styles I’ve encountered. Because anybody with a tiny bit of Israeli heritage is addicted to tchina, basically every pan of shakshuka (it’s served in the pan in Israel) comes with a side of it, and also with basic salad and toasted challah. There’s a thing called shakshuka sandwich, which is shakshuka as a sandwich where the bread is challah. Sometimes it’s also served with chips (which also have a cup of tchina, chips in Israel will always have tchina no we don’t have a problem)
side note again: this is actually a really common thing with Israeli food— everything is a sandwich. Traditional Persian and Nash Didan herb omelet is served plain, but Israelis looove to put it in bagels. I’ve eaten at a cafe this amazing aubergine ‘schnitzel’ and matbucha sandwich, where yes the bread was challah, and yes they also offered you a mountain of tchina, and yes I drenched that mofo lol. It’s all sandwiches here. Israel turned chamin and leftover aubergines and cabbage into a pitta. Nothing can stop the bread obsession.
Actually, that ‘schnitzel’ sandwich is a good example of a big aspect of Israeli food— the cultural mixing. Matbucha is a Moroccan sauce, schnitzel comes from Austria I’m pretty sure (although Israeli style is already different because it’s exclusively made with chicken), and aubergines are well known for being west Asian, especially Iraqi I think? This weird great fusion dish probably came about from a mixture of Jews whose families lived in these three areas, as a natural way of sharing and integrating subcultures when together. It’s not some evil plot to try to steal as many people’s cultures in one food item as possible, its just people close to each other eating food and something new coming out of that. One of my mum’s best friends is a Moroccan Jew and she regularly gives us matbucha, so I decided to make a monstrosity of Iranian dolma pielpelim with matbucha and guess what that’s how I earned my Israeli citizenship.
Fun fact— this woman also makes the best kneidelach I’ve ever tasted and she doesn’t have a drop of Ashkenazi blood in her. Does that make her evil, and am I evil for eating it when not Ashkenazi, or is it only applicable when deemed ‘ethnique’ enough?
There’s also just completely unique Israeli dishes like sabich, that was created in Israel by Iraqi Jews and wasn’t eaten anywhere else before, or ptitim which came out of 50’s rationing/the country being too broke to afford couscous. Also, Jewish specific foods like jachnun, kneidelach soup, challah, chamin, etc. are a thousand times more Israeli than they are of those host countries, by virtue of the fact that they were not a normal dish in said host countries. Yemenite goyim didn’t eat jachnun, so how is it stealing from them when the descendants of the ones who did continue to do so?
This is kind of a weird pivot, but I think that people are treating ‘Israeli’ like it’s it’s own ethnic group now as a desperate attempt to slice it away from Jews (and Israeli Arabs sometimes, depending on the situation) and have their own special root of all evil. So they expect us to have all of these special unique foods that no other Jewish community in the world has or else we’re just like… stealing??? I guess??? By eating food from our Jewish communities??? But the thing about nationalities is that the culture is created by the ethnicities of the people who live there. And the thing about Jewish sub-ethnicities is that because we were torn apart from each other and forced to live under much more powerful rulers, we tend to have very different cuisines from each other that seem similar to those of the countries we were living in— but even then, our food tends to have similarities to each other and differences to goyim’s just because kasher restrictions and pre-diaspora foods are still adhered to and made in almost every community.
So of course Israeli food is going to have Moroccan elements to it, seeing as if you meet five Israelis three of them are going to have some sort of Moroccan heritage, and one other is going to have someone close to them that’s Moroccan, that’s not even an exaggeration help they’re everywhere. And of course it’s going to be mixed in and muddled up with a bunch of Iranian, Romanian, Egyptian, Iraqi, Russian, and however more elements. Because once again, a nationality’s culture and cuisine is not independent from the people of that nationality. And Jews spent a long time in all of these countries, long enough to pick up some food habits in between all of the pogroms. If you wanted Israeli food to be completely independent to anything you’ve ever seen before, then just fucking time travel and give Bar Kochba a gun already.
Rant over. Ugh.
To the large chunk of non-Jewish bloggers on this website who before Oct 7 would every now then reblog something along the lines of "don't be antisemitic" and around winter time "happy hannukah to all my Jewish followers" and then a out a character who maybe be headcannoned as Jewish and nothing more
but after Oct 7 has become riddled with the most disgustingly antisemitic posts, posts full of misinformation, posts calling for the death of Israelis, denying Jewish Indigeneity, and of course posts using "shitrael" or "isntreal" or "isrhell".
Do you think we are stupid. Do you think we can't see this.
Or is it rather that you never cared about us and now that you have permission to revel in the hate you are.
I would like to share something that I saw on of these such types of blogs. It was one who is exactly has I described. Did the barest and of bare not even bare minimums, but after Oct 7 has become a hate infested cesspool.
They reblogged a post where someone had shared an article from the Middle East Eye, a Qatari run propaganda machine.
Now how did Hebrew steal from Arabic when Hebrew predates Arabic I guess we are not supposed to think about that. That Jews have been living in the region for several millennia don't think about it. That there have Mizrahi communities in these places since the Babylonians don't think about it.
The notes of course was filled with the tags "cultural appropriation"
but then I saw these tags
You mean the Shekel which is mentioned in the Tanach. The parliamentary system of government. Which craftworks, please be specific?
So again do you think we don't see these things. Do you think we are stupid.
Or what we see not the point and not what matters, but rather what matters is the lies and misinformation and making sure that is what is seen and spread so that you can ensure we have no friends and no allies. So that no when will stand up or make a fuss when you come to hurt us, to kill us, and destroy us.
And to that I will say look to those who came before and see where they are now. Do you see them? No, because they are not here, but we are.
So if you are going to come for us, if you are going to come to destroy us you better give it all you have because when you fail and you will fail it will not end well for you.
It never does. But we survive, we always do.
Am Yisrael Chai עם ישראל חי
#also— I have never seen anybody say that knafeh is Israeli Jewish. The only time I could even THINK of someone claiming it’s Israeli#is if they’re talking about Israeli Arabs#but it’s always been understood and loved as an Arab dish. You guys just don’t like it when we eat food and are compulsive liars I think#Jewish stuff#antisemitism#anyway Israeli food is great and if you can’t understand how exile might make it hard to have a single distinct cuisine then be quiet pleas
509 notes
·
View notes
Text
🍸🦎Astrology placement observations pt 2.🦎🍸
Disclaimer: these are my observations based on people I know irl and resources I have found. If you don’t agree you’re entitled to that opinion but don’t come at me xo
☿ In my experience, there are 2 kinds of libra moons. The kind that is kind of cartoon character-ish. Bubbly, fun, very sociable. Kind of exaggerated in their expressiveness. The kind that is bubbling with positive energy and could not hide their emotions if they tried. Then there is the other kind that is not talked about so much. These are much more introverted and harmonious. I would say they are equally likeable as the typical presentation of libra moons but they either don't care to have as many friends or just keep to themselves more. They have a much softer, sensual vibe kind of like taurus or cancer in a way. They are fairly in-tune with their emotions, albeit in a pretty detached, intellectual way. They tend to be quieter but still have a very pleasing aura to be around. One thing I will say that is pretty common with all Libra moons is that although they are pretty romantic, they are rarely satisfied with committing to one partner and will have many relationships or flings throughout their young adulthood as they want to experience the many facets that the dating world has to offer.
☿ An Aries/libra interception in the placidus chart can create great struggles with the self and relating to others. They struggle to express and assert themselves, and with having clearly defined boundaries between themselves and others. Usually, in childhood they struggle most in relationships with other people and may be unintuitive with social cues even if they desperately want to be accepted and have friends. This is not as apparent into adulthood as they have likely learnt, through trial and error, how to make friends and be liked. Although this is not usually through conventional means of intuition and more through an intellectual stance. Whereas in childhood they may have had a stronger sense of self, in adulthood this starts to suffer more. I think a desperate questioning of the self in an attempt to find what distinguishes them from other people and makes them uniquely "themselves" is common. These individuals can be susceptible to people pleasing tendencies as they can sometimes feel like whenever they try to assert themselves it is taken the wrong way and so they have to appease everyone and say exactly what others want to hear in order to be accepted. It is a delicate balance between selfishness and selflessness that they have to achieve.
☿ Pisces moons are a lot more grounded than people give them credit for. They usually have pretty solid ambitions and they don’t waste time striving for them. They are full of optimistic energy so they don’t have a problem with believing they are capable of achieving whatever it is they want. They approach life with a very “go with the flow” attitude. And it is precisely this attitude that allows them to easily succeed as they are pretty much okay with anything that comes along in the material world. They are also usually pretty good at a lot of different things.
☿ Venus retrograde in the natal chart can struggle with self-care and believing they are worth being cared for. They may either be less interested in romantic relationships or they can have tumultuous love lives, unless venus is well aspected. This is because they might believe they should just put up with unkind behaviour simply because they love someone. They tend to either have many different romantic relationships or stay in the same one for years and years even at a very young age. They can be pretty messy even dirty sometimes and have a boring or unconventional aesthetic style. They may be less adventurous in artistic pursuits than most people. They can be prone to copying others aesthetically as they are unsure how to express this part of themselves externally.
☿ Virgo mercuries are usually very direct and even a bit bossy in communication but even so, it is usually well received by other people as they do it in a way that is inoffensive and kind of playful. This kind of approach may not be pulled off so well by other mercury signs.
☿ Sagittarius moons and mercuries are great conversationalists. They are very funny and can strike up a conversation with anyone about anything. Sag moons especially appreciate a good sense of humor and can bring out the funny side of people. They can seem a bit tiresome at times as their propensity to debate from even sides they don’t even necessarily agree with can be grating. They don’t do this to be annoying though, they’re simply interested in finding out about how people think and stretching an argument to its limits in order to confirm or deny its validity.
Merry Christmas! X
#astroblr#astrology#astrology community#astrology signs#astrology observations#astro placements#astro moodboard
237 notes
·
View notes
Text
nsfw. ellie fingers you on patrol to help with your cramps. 1.4k words.
Never in your three years of residency in Jackson would you ever predict this–Ellie’s fingers deep inside of you, stroking the soft, sweet spot swollen by your own arousal. You would never have been able to predict actually crying out for her touch, hips bucking up to meet her palm like it was nothing. It was truly everything, because this was never supposed to happen.
You and Ellie had a strong distaste for each other from the start.
You liked to go to parties and drink, be reckless during patrols, and (at least attempt to) sleep with anyone who you thought was even slightly fuckable. Ellie was a wallflower, so maybe her distaste for you was plain jealousy. For you, your dislike for Ellie was much more than just something solvable with a little chat.You really resented her, and maybe it was because she actually made you feel things.
It was just another patrol like the rest, Ellie being quiet around you, and you refusing to make your usual conversation. Ellie was the only person you didn’t chat up a storm with when it came to these long patrol shifts, this one even lasting two days and requiring a camp set-up. If the two of you had really thought it through, you would’ve been more careful. Two people who have that obvious and yet annoyingly oblivious tension? It should’ve been predictable.
It started with the growing of blood in your underwear. The perfect time to be on your period, huh? You only let out a little huff to which Ellie ignored, setting off into the forest to put on a pad. When you returned, it was like fate that hit you, much like a lightning strike. Literally a strike of pain in your lower stomach signifying cramps to come, and on the one patrol you before to bring a bottle of Ibuprofen on.
You laid in your sleeping bag in pain, not wanting to even complain to Ellie, as much as you were the whining type. It’d be real nice to have someone to listen to you express how badly this cycle was, how your body was doing you dirty. You weren’t expecting Ellie to speak to you first.
“You okay over there?” not the usual irritated tone she liked to use with you, but not the most empathetic. Just slightly softer, but that was a mercy due to the strain in your relationship.
“Cramps.”
“Just take an ibuprofen and lay on your side.”
“Gee, thanks. I would’ve never thought to do that,” you bit, making Ellie glare. “I don’t have anything on me. I forgot I was close to my period.”
“Damn,” a not so sympathetic, and possibly indifferent curse from her.
“Yeah, damn is right. I feel like I’m being stabbed in my uterus repeatedly.”
Silence went on for a few more minutes, but it was visually obvious that you were in a lot of pain. Despite her dislike for you, she didn’t like seeing you suffer. There was a small flutter of empathy deep inside her that made her suggest something she probably shouldn’t have.
“Physical stuff can help cramps, you know.” Quiet, and yet the implication was clear.
“You mean like..sex?”
“Don’t think of it as actual sex, obviously. Just me helping you.”
“If we do this, we aren’t having sex. I’m not moaning for you or telling you how much I want you, so don’t expect that shit. You’re simply giving me an orgasm, and then it’s done.”
“Agreed. No kissing, and as soon as you..finish, we stop.”
And it started just like that, as sexual act of non-sex.
Ellie didn’t warm you up with neck kisses or sloppy love bites like your usual partners did, and partially, you were glad. This was just supposed to be an orgasm, and you didn’t need to like each other to appreciate a good orgasm, right? A simple pain reliever. Anytime your brain would bleed with thoughts of Ellie doing those things for you, however, you’d block them out as soon as they entered into your mind. The imagery was more difficult to get out of your head, though. Just simply picturing her plush lips trailing over your neck, breath ghosting over…
You snapped out of it, and just focused on trying to cum so that this would end, and you and Ellie could go back to hating each other.
One finger slipped inside of you, and you bit back a gasp. You were wet enough to take it without much at all, and you hoped Ellie just assumed that was just because of your period and not actually because you were turned on.
Ellie started out slow, just rubbing your g-spot with her finger, providing some direct stimulation. It made you realize how different the act of sex itself was from sex with all of the other stuff. The teasing, how your typical couple would build up the moment to make it the best possible experience. That wasn’t what this was, though. So, why were you biting your lip to stifle moans when Ellie slipped in another finger into your increasingly wet hole, and even padded over your clit with her thumb?
Your head was spinning, and you were starting to lose your focus on just having that orgasm, the aid to your cramping. You were already too distracted to think about the pain, too focused on trying your hardest to pretend like Ellie’s calloused fingers curling into your pussy wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve felt in a while.
Ellie didn’t complain when you instinctively bucked your hips up into her touch, and she had to try really hard not to lean down and kiss you when the occasional moan slipped past your lips. She couldn’t blame you, it was a natural reaction.
So, why was it that you were now begging for more when she curled right up into your sweet, tender spot?
“Ellie,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering open to meet hers. The scrunch of her nose that was usually present when you were around faded away, and her eyes were lidded, her lips parted slightly. A delicious, rosy tint set across her freckled face.
“Is it helping?”
“Please. Please, fuck me..just like that, I need it,” you begged, making her stomach do summersaults. It couldn’t be helped, though. Ellie took note that you shed off a little bit of your dignity when she slid her fingers slightly out and shoved them back into your hole, just to slam into your g-spot. She liked the way you sounded, the way your usual walls built around her crumbled when she fucked you good. Even though she didn’t (or at least tried not to) care to observe you enough, she noticed that you were different when at parties dancing with random people, more inauthentic. Something was ironically beautiful about the rawness to your voice that hit hard when she did something particularly mind-blowing to your pussy.
A mix of blood and your juices were dripping down her knuckles, and she really wanted to taste you. It would probably be something she would regret later, but Ellie decided to sate herself with a soft kiss to your lips instead. She felt warm and tasted like the rations from earlier, but you kissed her back fervently. The needy sounds coming from your throat were swallowed by her own mouth.
The orgasm that hit you was mind-blowing enough to aid with the cramps, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. Instead, it was the way Ellie’s tongue coaxed your lips apart, and the scent of her hair against your nose when she buried her face into your neck to taste your pulse. You felt every tremor run through you like lightning, and it was unlike anything anyone else could give you. It wasn’t forced, and the passion there was real. You actually felt something with her.
As you came down however, the moment dissolved into awkward silence and the careful removal of Ellie’s fingers from you. You swallowed, holding back your words. You wished to forget it all now, not because you wanted to deny it ever happened, but you were scared of what it meant if you got attached to someone in Jackson.
Just like that, it was over, and you and Ellie didn’t go quite back into disliking each other dynamic but rather an awkward limbo. You left that patrol and spent the next few weeks sleeping with people, pulling all-nighters trying to make yourself feel what you did on that patrol, but you never could find the same peak in every single category of feelings that Ellie gave you.
#ellie williams#tlou2#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#the last of us part 2#ellie smut
162 notes
·
View notes
Note
Congratulations on getting 1k! 🎉 Can I request FLUFF #13 with Jack Hughes please?
Thank you for requesting <3 - Merry Christmas!
FLUFF #13 "You came." "You called."
📞 dialling…
Nothing could ever go her way. That’s what it felt like, at least. Every Christmas something would go wrong, and she’d be the one left to fix it. If it wasn’t a family feud, it was the cooking or the presents, or somebody got the date wrong and now nobody could fix her problem because she was at the centre of it.
She leant against the marble counter and held her head in her trembling hands, screwing her eyes closed to hold the tears in and listening to the dial tone ring through her kitchen. She needed someone, really needed someone and that was the disadvantage of living alone.
“Hey princess, what’s up?” Jack’s voice called out over the speaker and that was enough for her tears to slip down her cheeks.
“I needed company, is all.” Her voice shook and she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, “Just a bit lonely, right now. Everyone’s travelling and wondered if you were free? If you’re not, it’s fine, I know you and Luke are heading out soon yourselves, I just… I’m sorry, you’re busy.”
“Hey, hey, you’re okay, there’s always time for you. Gimme ten minutes to finish up and I’m all yours. I love you.” He cooed softly and he hung up. And she buried her head in her arms and sobbed until her throat hurt, the apartment so quiet she could hear her own misery echo off the walls and back around to her.
The only thing that snapped her out of her sorrow was the three knocks on her door. At first, she ignored them, but they knocked another three times, and she felt obliged to answer. It was funny how human brains worked like that, you don’t need to open the door, but you do, it’s like an embedded rule of manners people are born with. She loosely turned the handle, sore, red eyes meeting with Jack’s, his smile sinking and his stomach twisting at the tear stains on y/n’s cheeks. Her cold body grew a blooming warmth the second his strong arms wrapped around her, kicking the door shut behind him and hand placed on the back of her head, cradling her to his chest, stroking her hair as she soaked his hoodie.
“You came.” She croaked, pulling away slightly to peer up at him.
He smiled, placing a kiss to her forehead and one hand cupping her cheek, his thumb wiping a tear, “You called. What’s really going on?”
“My family wants to spend Christmas with my aunt in Colorado, but all flights just got cancelled because of the fucking weather and I am not driving across the country.” She sobbed, “Jack, I don’t wanna be alone on Christmas, I don’t know what to do. They’re all asking me to just drive but I can’t do that, I don’t have that kind of gas money either.”
She buried her face in his chest, letting his hands gently sooth over her back and waist as he swayed them from side to side, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. His stomach dropped hearing her cry, pained him deeply that she spiralled over something out of her control.
“Why don’t you spend Christmas with me and my family? They won’t mind.” He said softly, peeling her from his body and holding her hands in his.
“Not unannounced and I don’t have presents and-”
“-they love you and have been asking about you. Trust me, it’ll be okay. You’re more than welcome and I would rather spend Christmas with you than know you’re sat here, alone. You have your bags already packed, right?”
“More or less.”
“Then how about it? There’s still time to get presents and I’ll take you anywhere you want when we get there. Think of kissin’ under the mistletoe, we can bake those cookies you love, decorate the tree, ice skating…” Jack snaked his arms around her waist, peppering her face with kisses. He had this magic way of reassuring someone effortlessly, perhaps it was because he was an older sibling, used to doing it or maybe it rooted from being so undoubtedly in love with y/n it came naturally.
It didn’t take a lot of consideration before she nodded, a smile breaking across her lips that soon mirrored his, tears drying and the light glowing back in her eyes. Christmas with the Hughes’ didn’t sound all that bad, if Jack had taught her anything, it was that she wasn’t always alone.
"I'd love that, thank you."
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
Omg I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging ;-; I can only offer the excuse of crippling school projects, but I’m back!
Dr. Stone Spoilers for most of the story
Okay so your point about him being a good leader actually opened up a can of worms in my brain. This is def kind of off topic? But I think it’s interesting so I want to write it down for my own sanity.
For a while know I’ve been coining Senkuu as a bad leader, or at least not ideal for personal writing purposes, but your comment made me rethink it. Looking at things with a fresh start, I realized Senkuu is a good leader, but not in the way I was originally imagining. (Doing my best to keep it as canon as possible) Senkuu 1. Cares deeply about people, not just his own 2. Is very strategic and thinks of the future 3. Does not want power. These 3 aspects make him a good leader, especially in the setting of Dr. Stone.
To use an analogy, He would be a very good science club leader, which is kind of what he is. He is dedicated to the craft, and can manage a small group of people with similar goals, and rather than excluding others, he encourages and fights for them to join his club of nerds.
However!
For the first part of Dr. Stone, that works fine. It’s just the Kingdom of Science and the Empire of Might. It’s like 140 people, who although need some coaxing, can work together. But once America hits and they have Zenos people how have very different ideas, and all sorts of other civilizations across the globe… people are going to have conflicting ideas. There’s always going to be Tsukasas, misguided people, and Hyogas and Homuras, people who don’t mean well and try to shape the world in their making. This is where I believe Senkuu is no longer the best choice, as I don’t think he could handle managing and keeping peace between all of these people, in addition to perusing and steam heading science projects. Obviously there’s people to help him do these things, but it’s a lot.
Many people instead make Ryusui the main leader, which is not a bad decision. He’s used to leadership and thrives in positions of power, and cares about the people around him, even if they don’t like him(most of this comes from his confidence/arrogance, but still). He is great at planning and managing people, and is decent at working with people who have different views than him. However he doesn’t really understand the differences between what people say/think they want, and what they need, and he could make bad decisions based on that misconception. In addition, Ryusui is pretty disconnected from the people around him as he had a very different upbringing, and can’t always relate to people. This makes him a caring leader, but unable to properly act this way.
Both he and Senkuu are decent leaders on their own, but still not great. In conclusion, I say the best solution is to have the 5 generals, so some other council, in charge. They balance each other’s faults, this sharing of power relieves the pressure of leading the entirety of humanity from 1 person’s shoulders.
Main tangent over lol.
I def agree about Senkuu trying to save everybody, including Tsukasa, with all of the stuff happening at the beginning of Treasure Island Arc being a lot to juggle. This means to me that his decision to give Hyoga and Homura to the “authorities”/legal system is weak evidence for him being lawful.
I feel like we’re running this thread dry, so I pose another question: How do you feel about the ending of the manga, and how would you change it? I have some strong thoughts about those last few arcs lol.
*offers microphone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other*
Also happy holidays!!
Your honor they're homosexuals
#I’m really enjoying this#sorry I disappeared for like 2 weeks#I got Covid and had 3 ELA projects#lmao#also what other fandoms are you into?#I like HXH and Harry Potter#and others#<33#dr. stone#ishigami senku
578 notes
·
View notes
Text
i saw frankie kissing santa claus || joel & frankie
AO3 || MASTERLIST
pairing : joel x f!reader x frankie morales
summary : after everyone leaves your house for a holiday party, you find one straggler left behind -or- you catch frankie kissing santa claus joel
tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, everyone in this fic is bi bc i am too and i said so, joel in a santa suit, reader and joel have a little (big) crush on frankie boy, handjob, blowjob(s), face sitting, multiple orgasms for reader, orgasm denial, lots and lots of leaking (from all of them. im sorry.), one in the mouth one down south, sizes mentioned, cum eating, creampie, aftercare bc its essential and they are softies!!!
WC : 6k
a/n : merry christmas to everyone who celebrates!! six months since ive written anything at all and now i'm back with a christmas special LMFAO 😭 honestly, life has been a hectic hell since i last posted and i'm really happy i was able to actually finish something i started to end out the year 🥹 i hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season, and i hope i won't be as much of a stranger as i have been lately!! hope you enjoy this!! <3
“Oh, come on, Joel! People are gonna love it!”
“I am not putting it on, end of discussion, “ he said. You huffed a sigh and plopped down on the couch, Santa hat and suit in hand draping over your legs.
For as long as you had been seeing Joel, you’d begged and begged for him to let you plan one of his company holiday parties only for him to tell you that he’d rather just treat the guys to a night at a nice bar. He’d always let you come along, of course, feeding you whatever fruity little cocktails you asked for to pass the night along.
Last year was… something else. That summer, the company was absolutely swamped with projects, meaning Tommy and Joel had to hire some more help to keep up. One of the new hires, Francisco, “Frankie” for short, outshone all of his peers. He was effortlessly helpful in ways Tommy and Joel hadn’t even intended him to be. Just in the 6 months he had been with the company, he had already (rightfully) climbed a little higher up the ladder to help with the more important decisions rather than just being an extra set of hands on site.
Every now and then, Joel would tell you something else about Frankie that made your heart flutter with gratitude that the extra help was finally letting off some stress that he always seemed to carry. When August had rolled around, the Texas heat reached an all-time high. One particularly hot day, you suggested that Joel invite Frankie over to swim and barbecue so you could finally meet him.
He was a big man, just like Joel. Sturdy frame and tanned skin, and the sweetest manners a man could have, greeting you with a gentle handshake and a kindly playful, “It’s nice to meet you, Joel’s always talking about you.”
You spent the day in the sun and shade, sipping drinks and dipping into the cold water to stave off some of the brutal heat. The backyard filled with laughter all afternoon until the sun had finally set, the last hoorah of golden rays draining from the sky.
“So—“ Joel grunted, settling in bed with you as you curled into his side, “what’d you think of Frankie?”
“He’s great,” you hummed with a smile, settling into Joel’s post-shower warmth. “I can see why you like him so much, he seems exactly like how you always talked about him.”
“Yeah, he’s… he’s somethin’. Ain’t like the other guys. Don’t have to tell him more ‘an once to do somethin’…”
You look up and see Joel staring into space, a glimmer of something else in his eye as he zones out.
A smirk slides into your cheek. “Mhm… kinda pretty too,” you tease.
“Huh?”
“He’s kinda… pretty. I don’t know.”
A ghost of a blush threatens to bloom across Joel’s chest as he shifts a bit underneath you. “Think he’s pretty, huh?”
“Well, yeah. Anyone with eyes can see that,” you giggle, propping up on one arm to fully face him. “Do you think he’s pretty?”
Joel stops, that once threatening blush beginning to spread a little more, a little darker. “Wh—?”
“Do you think Frankie is pretty?”
“Is this some sort of test or somethin’?”
“No, not a test. I just… you do realize you’ve been talking about him for months?”
“Well, he’s done real good for the company. Jus’ happy not to be so stressed all th’ time. You sure have been enjoying it.”
You chuckle and shake your head. “Well, yes. But that’s not my point. Been talking about him for months and he had you laughing all afternoon today.”
“That ain’t fair, he had you laughing too. Matter of fact, them little shrieks could’a woke up a bear in hibernation,” he joked, poking at your ticklish spots and making you recreate those shrieks of giggles from earlier.
“Stop, stop! I get it!” you said between laughs. “Jesus…” You settled back into his arms pulling the covers over the two of you some more. “Doesn’t answer my question, though.” Joel hums and pulls you somehow closer and you get comfortable in his grip, feeling sleep start to claim your mind. “Do you?” you ask, voice dripping with fatigue.
“Do I what?”
“Think Frankie’s pretty?”
You feel him huff and shake his head, then you hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”
You fell asleep that night with a smile.
—
“Bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive,” you pouted under your breath, just above barely audible, just where he would have to ask you—
“What was that?”
“I said I bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive.”
“‘S that so? And what makes you think I’d wanna put it on just to impress him, hm?”
“N— nothing… Please, put on the suit, Joel?” you beg, donning your biggest puppy eyes you can manage. “The whole house is already decorated. Everyone’s gonna love it. If anyone gives you shit, I’ll show them what’s up. But I promise they’re gonna love it. Pleeeeease?”
Joel stands, silent, crossing his arms and chewing his cheek, thinking.
A beat passes, then another beat, your relentless begging gaze boring holes into his heart.
He sighs. “Gimme the suit,” he says and extends a hand.
“Really? Really, Joel?”
“Gimme the suit ‘fore I change my mind,” he says, fighting the smile curing at the corners of his mouth.
—
You were right, the suit was a fucking hit.
Every one of Joel’s employees that walked in was enthusiastically shocked that the old man would get into the spirit, patting him on the back and hyping him up the whole night. Each reaction made you giggle as you greeted them all and showed them into the house.
Tommy was probably the most surprised of them all, giving his big brother so much shit about dressing up, but Joel just laughed it off and shoved his brother in the house.
Not long after Tommy arrived, the doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it!” you told Joel and made your way to the door.
It was Frankie, dressed in his nicest sweater and least damaged pair of jeans, still wearing that baseball cap he was never seen without, holding a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around it.
“Frankie!” you exclaimed, extending your arms for a hug.
“Hi! Sorry I’m late, the traffic was horrible.”
“It’s okay, Tommy just showed up and he doesn’t have an excuse at all.”
Frankie laughs and remembers the bottle in his hands. “Oh, this is for you and Joel.” He hands it over with a smile.
“Oh, Frankie… you didn’t have to get us anything!”
“Consider it my thanks for all the hospitality,” he says.
“Well, thank you for the wine. Come in!”
There’s no need for a tour with him, having already been to your house countless times before this. When he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he nearly trips over his own feet seeing Joel.
“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that,” you said, poorly hiding the giggle bubbling up in your throat.
“Hi, Frankie,” Joel says, shyly raising an arm to wave.
“Hey-y-y,” Frankie giggles, waving back with one arm and holding his stomach with the other, almost doubled over in laughter.
The party plays out better than you even thought it would, the warm, bass-y tones of laughter filling the space of your home as everyone mingles and eats and drinks. Minutes easily turn to hours effortlessly dragging the night along. The later it gets, the more people slowly filter out returning back to their homes. You walk Tommy out to his girlfriend, Maria’s car, whom you called about half an hour earlier when you overheard him tell someone one more wouldn’t hurt.
As you close the door and turn back to the house, surprisingly very neat for having just hosted a party of contractors, it’s… eerily quiet. You expected Joel to be just behind you waiting to come back inside so he could whisk you off to bed. But he was nowhere to be found.
You creep back through the house, not seeing him anywhere. You round the corner to the living room and…
You thought everyone had left. But, you guess the last to arrive ended up being the last to leave as well.
You see Frankie and Joel sitting on the couch, Joel lounging as normal, still decked in his Santa gear, and Frankie sitting sideways facing him, one hand cupped on Joel’s jaw, kissing him so slow, so gently… so intoxicatingly beautiful.
You stay in the door frame for a minute watching the two make out on the couch, hearing the tiniest little grunts and groans from each of them. A fire ignites in your belly and quickly grows before you clear your throat to break the silence.
Frankie leaps back, starting to fumble his words and blushing bright red almost immediately. You look at Joel who looks calm and collected as ever, if not just a little dazed and blissed from the kissing he was just doing.
“I-I— um— we— I—“
“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” you say gently, convincingly as you can.
Frankie must have mastered the puppy eye look just as you had and was using them on you now. “Y-you’re… not?”
You chuckle. “No. Furthest from it, really.”
“Told you she’d be okay with it,” Joel pipes up, tugging him closer on the couch.
You inch closer into the room. “We, um… I think Joel and I have a… confession to make.” Frankie watches with big, curious eyes as you make your way to sit on Joel’s other side. “Joel… how can I put it… Joel has a little bit of a… crush on you, I’d say.”
“Now hang on one minute—“
“Thinks you’re an excellent worker, wouldn’t stop talking about you for months.”
“You’re the one that said to bring him over in the first place!” Joel argues.
“That’s true. Just wanted to see the guy responsible for helping you out so much… Remember that first time you came over?”
Frankie nods, still watching as curious as ever.
“Well… y’know what? You should tell him what you said, Joel.”
“Huh?”
“Y’know… about how you think he’s real pretty and all…”
You see Frankie shift a little out of the corner of your eye, barely causing a ripple in the couch attempting to hide the movement.
“If I remember correctly… you’re the one that said that first.”
Your cheeks grow a little hot at the admission. “But you agreed with me.”
“Well, ‘cause I do. Think he’s pretty.”
You finally glance back at Frankie whose blushing cheeks are bright red at this point. “All that to say… I think we both have a bit of a liking for you, Frankie.”
“Yeah?” he asks, completely unsure how he ended up here, but eternally grateful for it.
“Yeah. Is that… are you okay with that?”
“Shit... y-yeah— yes. Yes, I am,” he says, trying to keep a grasp on whatever composure he has left.
You smile back at him. “Good. Joel, you wanna show him to our room, then?”
“It’d be my pleasure,” he says, taking Frankie’s hand and giving it a kiss before leading him down the hall.
The three of you glide down the hall, the tension pouring out of your pores and making the air hotter, thicker, as you cross the threshold of the bedroom.
Joel leads Frankie to the edge of the bed, letting him sit and leaning in to give him a sweet, deep kiss to his plush lips. They both groan into it, savoring the softness of the other’s skin.
“Mmm… you should try, baby. He’s a real good kisser,” Joel offers.
You sit right next to Frankie, cupping his cheek to turn his face to you and kiss him.
Joel’s right, too. He is a good kisser. His velvet soft lips part when his tongue darts out to taste yours, a small whimper slipping from his throat as your mouths dance together, getting to know one another, melting into one. Frankie reaches up to grab your face, willing your mouth closer into him and your body follows, all but climbing into his lap to taste more, more, more as his hands trail up your body under your shirt and up to your chest—
The kiss is only broken when Frankie moans into your mouth, looking away from you with a hooded stare as he finishes yanking off your shirt. You follow his gaze to the floor just between his legs where Joel has sunk to the floor, palming Frankie over his jeans.
“Tha’s gotta be uncomfortable, hm?” he asks, giving his bulge another gentle squeeze. Frankie grunts and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing and the slow leak threatening to ruin his pants. “Keep kissing him, angel. Gonna take care’a this.”
Joel’s hand slides up Frankie’s torso, slowly coaxing him to lay flat on the bed. You chase him with your mouth listening to each tiny gasp that leaves his lips as Joel gets to work with his pants.
The clink of his belt… the hum of a zipper… the tiny shimmy of Frankie’s hips as Joel slides his boxer briefs down his legs, stopping mid-thigh and running his hands back up to his hips.
“Jesus christ…” you hear him whisper, admiring the almost fully hardened length of the man in front of him, the tip of his cock shining in the low light from the bedside lamps, a small damp patch just barely seeping through to the outside of his underwear.
Joel’s own cock jumps at the sight. If he wasn’t turned on already from Frankie’s perfect lips, he sure as hell was turned on now. He can hardly keep himself from touching, one hand wrapping around Frankie’s length in an instant.
Frankie’s hips buck up and he pulls away from your mouth again, a low moan bellowing from his chest.
“Yeah? Feels good?” Joel mocks from below, lazily stroking up and down, up and down, swirling his hand at the top making Frankie squirm underneath him. “Look here, angel, look how hard he is.”
You glance down and can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips watching Joel slowly jerk Frankie off, the bright red tip leaking down his own length and making everything slick. And the sounds…
But it’s when you see that Joel’s other hand has his own length grasped in his palm, rubbing over his pants, that you let out a borderline growl… something about watching him get off to this… this idea that you had and felt brave enough to open the door of discussion to… this idea that Joel seemed more than happy to indulge in…
It’s then you realize how damp you feel, the wetness that’s been slowly building and building without you even realizing leaking out to soak your panties. You try to discreetly rub your legs together, seeking some sort of friction, anything at all.
But Joel sees it. He always sees it.
“Feelin’ left out, baby? She wants some attention, huh?”
You look at him with pleading eyes, an unspoken yes, yes please…
“Say, Frankie… that pretty mouth of yours got any other talents?”
Frankie looks down his body where Joel sits, already looking so fucked out and gone. “H-huh?”
“Take his mouth, go ‘head.”
Your body is buzzing as you look back at Frankie, the flame of arousal burning bright in his pupils as he frantically nods, leaning back for you to move. You take off your pants and ruined panties and shift over him, straddling his broad frame and maneuvering your knees around his head.
You hover over his face, looking down for permission to lower, “Is— Are you okay wi—”
You’re cut off by Frankie’s hands on the apex of your thighs tugging you down to meet his lips, and it is fucking heaven. “Oh, fuck…”
His scruff scratches the most sensitive parts of you, giving you exactly the friction you needed as his tongue greedily laps up your arousal, drinking it up like he’s been lost in the desert and you’re his oasis. You rock against his lips taking more and more of everything he’s giving you, and he helps you, coaxing you back and forth as more slick leaks from your hole. “Yeah, like that…” you moan, one hand slipping under his cap and through his ruffled hair, neither of you caring when it falls off onto the bed.
“Keep doin’ that, boy,” you hear Joel rumble behind you, followed by a whine from below right against your clit, making you jolt at the sudden vibration.
You look back and see Joel easing down Frankie’s length, slipping inch by inch down his throat, bobbing up and down taking more and more with each bob until he’s taken it all to the hilt.
God, is it a sight. You’re already whimpering watching him take more and more, but when he’s bottomed out and looks up, eyes barely watering, and he gives you a wink, you can’t help the downright pornographic moan that escapes your lips.
You turn back and look down at Frankie, seeing tears just starting to well in his eyes when he opens them with the most desperate gaze you’ve ever seen. “Fuck, Frankie… so fucking pretty…” you moan out, throwing your head back as his tongue dips inside you and his nose nudges your clit perfectly.
“Fuck…” you hear Joel gasp. “Fuck, angel… turn around, please. Lemme see that pretty face while he eats you out.”
You oblige, gently prying Frankie’s hands off your hips and cautiously spinning around over him. He gives you no time to settle back down, pulling you back flush with his face and drowning himself in you once again.
It’s a miracle he isn’t suffocating, or at least he doesn’t care if he is. He eats, and eats, and eats, your juices dripping down his face and his neck making a mess of him below. He works your hole and your clit, drawing out cries from you until your thighs are shaking, barely holding yourself up.
“Fuck yeah, baby… ride his fuckin’ face like that,” Joel encourages, stroking Frankie in tandem with the rock of your hips. “Gonna fuckin’ cum on his face, baby? Bet tha’s what he wants. ‘S that what you want, boy? Want her drippin’ down your tongue?”
You barely hear it over your whines, but a muffled mmhm is all you need to chase your rapidly building high, the feral need taking over you as you ride his face. His scruff tickles your most sensitive spots and his warm, wet, determined tongue works overtime to send you over the edge, and it fucking works, your orgasm crashing through you as you brace yourself on his belly, riding it out as you spill more slick down his face and his mouth works you through every second.
He doesn’t let up, licking you through every wave until you have to use every ounce of strength to fight his grip holding you down. You flop on the bed to the side and see Frankie’s face absolutely drenched in you, his mustache and scruffy beard soaking wet and his cheeks red as roses.
Frankie’s eyes are closed, his chest heaving as Joel works him faster, harder, the squelching noise from the precum furiously leaking from the tip of his cock almost drowning out the whines leaving his lips.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… ohhhhh, fuck— waitwaitwait—” he begs, pleads, with any ounce of strength he can still muster up.
Joel stops in an instant, “What’s wrong? You okay, Frankie? What happened?” he asks, concern drenching every word.
“It’s… fuck… nothin’s wrong… just…” he huffs, trying desperately to catch his breath. “Fuck, didn’t… wanna cum yet… shit…”
Worry leaves Joel’s features in an instant, swiftly replaced by contentment and ease that he’s alright. “Ohhh… was gettin’ t’be too much, huh?”
“Yeah…” he answers, breathlessly.
Joel rises on creaky knees to stand from where he knelt, reaching for Frankie’s hand to sit him up again. “You good to stand?” he asks, gently, voice nothing but bass.
He helps Frankie up on wobbly legs and switches places with him, dragging him into his frame between his knees, reaching up to his face and kissing him, licking you off his lips. “Mmm… tastes good, don’t she?” he asks with a smirk before crashing back into Frankie’s mouth.
His hands leave Frankie’s face to tug down the costume pants, finally freeing his fully hardened cock, tugging on it a few times before reaching for Frankie’s hands and guiding them into his lap. Frankie’s hand wraps around Joel’s length, his grasp encompassing his whole girth, but just barely so. Joel helps his hand along, up and down, up and down, a steady rhythm to make his cock slippery in his grasp.
Frankie’s hand feels perfect, but Joel is an impatient man. And when he wants something, he’s gonna get it.
“You wanna sit on Santa’s lap, Frankie?” he says with a downright diabolical smirk.
“Oh, fuck— yes, please. Can I?”
“‘Course you can,” Joel smiles, reaching for the hem of his pants again and tugging them all the way down as Frankie toes off his shoes and steps out of each pant leg. He pats his thigh right where it meets his torso, “C’mon, boy, right here.”
Joel scoots back on the bed to make room as Frankie kneels on the bed lining himself up with Joel’s length. Frankie spits on his hand generously, giving Joel a few more tugs before lining him up with his tight ring of muscle.
“Shit, boy… no stranger to this, huh?”
Frankie just blushes, slowly lowering down to Joel’s lap, moaning as his greedy hole takes inch after inch until he’s sitting flush with Joel’s pelvis. He rises and falls a few times before finding a slow, steady rhythm, throwing his head back and bouncing eagerly up and down.
You watch in awe as Frankie fucks himself on Joel’s cock, resting his arms on Joel’s broad shoulders just like you do, Joel’s hands sitting on Frankie’s hips just like they do on your own. You feel your core flutter at the sight, half unaware of the whiny whimper that falls from your lips and fully unaware of your hand traveling south to play with the slick still drenching your folds.
The noise makes Joel turn his head and he extends his hand to you dragging you closer to him. He grabs your cheek and kisses you, his tongue begging entry into your mouth as you swallow each other’s moans.
Frankie wills his eyes open, watching the two of you make out right in front of him. It makes his cock throb as he bounces harder, a little faster, and Joel can feel him getting impatient.He pulls away from your desperate mouth, holding Frankie’s hips still and met with a whining protest about it.
“Calm down a sec, cowboy. Got an idea…” You both look to him with curious, fucked out eyes. “Gonna lay back an’ you’re gonna ride my face just like you did for him, ‘kay princess?”
You nod back firmly, making a move towards him—
“Ah, ah— eager girl. Wasn’t finished…” he turns and looks at Frankie. “You got a hard job, think you can handle it?”
Frankie nods just as firmly, desperate to hear his rules to follow. “U-uh huh, I can handle it. Please.”
“Gonna keep ridin’ this cock, got it? But… you don’t cum ‘til I say so. Not even when she does. Not ‘til I say.”
Frankie’s chest jumps as his breath hitches, a grunt of a moan stifled at the back of his throat. His eyes flutter as he nods, trying desperately to keep his hips stilled and finding it harder and harder.
“We all good?”
“Yes— yeah, all good,” you and Frankie both enthusiastically agree, desperate for more.
Joel leans back, tugging your hand his way. As you go to straddle him, he stops you. “Face him, baby. He didn’t get to see how pretty you look when you fall apart.”
Your eyes roll a bit as you lazily agree, spinning around to face Frankie. Sweat makes his forehead twinkle as he slowly rocks and bobs in Joel’s lap. You lower onto Joel’s face and immediately brace yourself on his belly, the feeling of his tongue more intense this time, still sensitive from before.
As hard as it is to keep his eyes open, Frankie can’t peel his gaze away from your face, contorted in pleasure as moans spill from your lips. “Oh, Joel… fuck, yes…”
Frankie can’t help but reach towards you, just wanting to touch you, feel your body… he cups your tits over your bra that you quickly undo and toss off the bed, desperate to feel his hands on your skin. “Go ahead, Frankie. Touch me, please,” you beg, holding his hands to your chest and squeezing them.
He mirrors you, kneading the flesh there and quickly throwing you back into the fire as Joel’s skillful tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge already. He never fails to unravel you in an instant, his tongue memorizing every inch of you right down to the softest spots that send you reeling in the blink of an eye.
It’s barely long at all before you feel the fire burning in your belly again, growing and growing as you desperately try to last just a little longer.
You distract yourself in Frankie, mesmerized by his face and his body that you wish you could see more of, hiding under his t-shirt that’s somehow still on.
“This—” you say, pawing at the hem of his shirt, “Off. Get this off—”
He doesn’t hesitate to help you peel his shirt off his sweaty body, throwing it haphazardly off the bed. His body is beautiful, the curves of his belly mirroring Joel’s so closely, and your hands are drawn to his skin like magnets, feeling every inch you can reach.
You don’t realize you’re lifting away from Joel’s face until he yanks you back down again, mercilessly lapping at your folds.
He pulls off again, just for a moment. “‘Member angel, he can’t come ‘til I say. Longer you’re ridin’ my face, longer he’s gotta wait.”
He’s back on your cunt in an instant, and your fluttering eyes barely catch the aroused and panicked expression on Frankie’s face. His cock makes a mess of Joel’s belly below, the leaking head spilling pearly white now as it gets harder and harder to stave off his orgasm. He languidly rocks back and forth trying desperately not to spill all over Joel’s gut before he’s allowed to.
Watching Frankie try so hard to keep his composure, teetering on the edge of collapse, turns you on more than you can even describe. Your hips move on their own at this point, or maybe it’s purely Joel rocking you in just the way he knows drives you crazy.
“Talk to ‘er,” he mumbles to Frankie from under your wet heat.
Your eyes blow wide, the growing fire turning to a blaze when Frankie opens his mouth.
“Fuck… g-gonna fucking cum for him too? Oh, shit… wanna… wanna see your face… when you—”
Frankie’s babbling is cut off by your moans as you cum for a second time tonight, thighs quivering and hips bucking on Joel’s face. He licks you through it, controlling the movement of your hips as you lose all control.
“Oh, my god… h-holy shit—” Frankie stops all movement, seconds away from making a mess of himself, Joel, and you sitting in front of him. His eyes bolt shut as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, shaking when Joel eases you off of his face.
He sits up cupping Frankie’s face in his hands. “Got a little more fight in you?”
Frankie takes a deep breath. “Mhm… yeah, uh huh…”
Joel chuckles low, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Good. Hop off.”
Frankie’s eyes pop open, but he obliges, easing himself off of Joel’s length with a whine at the sudden emptiness.
“Go ‘head and climb up there,” Joel instructs gently as Frankie climbs onto the bed where you lay, still a puddle of overstimulated mess. Joel gently tugs at your ankles pulling you towards the end of the bed, leaning down to kiss you, soft and sweet.
“Can you gimme one more, angel? Can you stay up for me?”
Your eyes try their best to focus on his face, a hazy blur clouding your vision just a bit as you hum and nod to him. “Uh huh… can stay up…”
“Attagirl… alright, hands and knees, baby.”
You do as you’re told, flipping over and around so your backside faces him at the end of the bed. He stands over your body, hands gliding over the globes of your ass, up your back, stroking every inch of bare skin spread in front of him.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous…” he mumbles, before laying a tap to your ass, causing you to jolt a little and whine at the contact. “Alright Frankie…” Frankie perks up, hanging onto Joel’s every word. “‘M gonna take this pretty hole back here… An’ you take that one up there. Sounds good?”
You clench around nothing. The idea of both of them filling you as much as you can take… Using you for their pleasure…
“Fuck… yeah, good, mhm…” Frankie babbles, shimmying himself to kneel in front of you.
You look up at him, down his body, to his ruddy cock, hard as diamond right in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight and you motion for him to come a little closer.
Joel grabs his length, lining the head up with your entrance. You stifle a whimper at just the contact of his fat tip pressing into your most sensitive spots. “Ready?” he asks. You both whimper a yes, ready.
They both enter you at the same time, sliding into you wet, wanting holes cautiously first, but easily. So, so easily. The three of you groan in pleasure, them from your warmth and you from the fullness.
Joel sets a pace, fucking in and out of your dripping cunt with ease, quite a feat for the sheer fucking size of him, but you’re so worked up that you practically suck him in and dont dare to let him go. Frankie doesn’t follow Joel’s face, testing the waters of your throat and what it can take.
“She can handle it, boy. If she can take all’a me, she can take all’a you too,” Joel says with a wink.
Neither one of them is small by any means, but Joel was right. He was a bit thicker than Frankie is, and it took a while for your mouth to get used to his size. And while Frankie wasn’t as thick, he might have been just a little longer. It was impossible to tell now, though, they both felt impossibly huge stuffed inside of you, each of them chasing their own highs.
Joel’s pace has already picked up, the warm walls of your pussy crying for him to keep going, don’t stop, right there… the grip on your hips unforgiving as he slams in and drags back out over and over and over…
Frankie keeps rocking into your mouth, a little faster now, and you taste the salty precum leaking onto your tongue and down your throat.
“So fuckin’ hot, angel… stuffed so fuckin’ full…”
“God, you feel good…” Frankie whispers down to you, and you wish you could see his face while you take him to the hilt. Instead, you pull away and spit directly onto the head of his cock before taking him back into your throat completely, using one hand to play with his balls. “Oh, fuck… oh, fuck…”
“Ah ah, boy— unh— not— not ‘til I say,” Joel reminds him.
Frankie takes a few deep breaths, holding your face so delicately, like it could break, trying to ground himself and fucking focus…
“One more, baby, one more right on this cock… an’ then you can too, boy…”
Joel fucks you harder, faster, bruising your cervix with every thrust, the ridges of his cock dragging along every nerve ending in your walls bringing you closer, and closer, and closer—
“Oh, fuck, Joel! Right there! Don’t fucking stop!”
He doesn’t. Not at all. He keeps the same relentless pace, hitting that soft spot deep inside you that he always finds without fail. You flutter around his length, clamping down on him as he reaches around your front to find your clit. He teases your little bundle of nerves, circle after circle after circle, hurdling you closer and closer to release.
“Fuck, tha’s right, baby. Tha’s fuckin’ right.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck— ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum, Joel,” Frankie cries, his hips bucking out of rhythm.
“Yeah? Gonna spill down her throat while she’s creamin’ my cock? Go ‘head, both of y’all, at the same time. C’mon—” he grunts, one strong thrust sending you reeling, spasming, damn near collapsing onto the bed as your third orgasm rips through you at an earth-shattering rate.
“Jesus fucking christ—” Frankie groans before his own thighs are trembling, his cock throbbing in your mouth as ropes of cum shoot down your throat, fucking himself in your mouth through his own high, the vibrations from your moans making his body shiver as you drain him empty.
Like dominos falling, Joel is next to go, painting your walls with his spend at the sight of you and Frankie falling apart right in front of him, throbbing in your overstimulated cunt as both ends suck each man dry.
The three of you are a pile of huffing, heaving messes, catching your breaths and dripping sweat onto your sheets. After a minute, Joel slowly slides out of you, his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy and dripping onto the sheets. The rest of your body plops down onto the mattress when he lets you go.
Joel steps back and looks at the two of you, sprawled out on the bed in a completely fucked out daze, and chuckles.
“Guess that that was a good enough present for the two’a you, huh?”
You both give a tired, breathy giggle stretching and wiggling around the mattress. You crawl up towards Frankie laying on the pillows and curl into him, and he welcomes you like this is something you’ve always done, with ease, with comfort.
Joel walks into your bathroom and returns with a towel, cleaning you up before climbing next to you, now sandwiched between the two burly men, all three of you basking in post-coital bliss.
“That is… not how I thought the night would end,” Frankie says with a sigh and a chuckle.
You giggle back. “No? Not even a little?” you tease.
Frankie hums a laugh. “So, was this… is this something that you guys… talked about before?”
You turn a little and look at Joel who is just admiring the two of you. His eyebrows raise a bit, an exhale of a laugh leaving his lungs. “Hmm… I mean, It’s come up a few times.”
Frankie turns his head to look at Joel, silently asking for more.
“Started that first time you came over an’ it just… I don’t know, it would come up from time to time. Was never opposed to the idea and… Tonight was the night the pieces fell just right, I s’pose,” he explains, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
You can see it haunting Frankie’s lips too, threatening to show just how much he enjoyed this too.
“Think it’s safe to say we all enjoyed it, huh?” you tease again, nudging Frankie and throwing Joel a knowing glance. Frankie turns away, blushing.
The three of you cuddle a little closer, savoring each other’s company, glowing with pleasure as you lay there, falling asleep knowing things might have changed, but for the absolute better.
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#the last of us#tlou#frankie morales#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales fanfic#triple frontier#joel miller x frankie morales x reader
162 notes
·
View notes