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"Will You Be My Dad?" : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton
summary: where your daughter wants lewis to take on a new role in her life
“Come on, time for bed,” you smiled, scooping your daughter up off of the ground.
Amelia let go of a groan as she stood to her feet, looking across at you with a pout. You’d already let her stay up much later than you usually did, treating her seeing as Lewis had come around to visit, knowing how much she loved spending time with him. Lewis couldn’t help but smile as she huffed, calling out to you, begging for a few more minutes with the two of you.
It still felt like a dream for you sometimes as you glanced at Lewis, watching as he picked up some of Amelia’s toys and placed them back into her toy box. She was never too far away from him, practically glued to his side whenever he spent any time with you both.
Ever since you and Lewis had started dating, Amelia had relished in it. She was only young when you started dating, she didn’t really know life without Lewis in it, all she knew was that although he loved you, he wasn’t the man that she called dad, despite being the one to raise her.
As Amelia continued to groan, Lewis quickly stepped in. He scooped her up and carried her into her bedroom, throwing her down onto her bed as she giggled away to himself.
No matter what the situation, whenever you were struggling Lewis was there to step in. He saw Amelia as his own, he treated her as if she was. She was a part of the deal when it came to dating you, but rather than be an inconvenience, she was the greatest addition which made dating you even sweeter.
“Are you staying here tonight?” Amelia whispered across to Lewis.
“I think so,” he smiled, looking back to you to check. “That means I’ll be right here when you wake up in the morning, maybe we could eat breakfast together.”
Her smile turned up as you nodded in agreement with Lewis. “Will you cook for us? You always cook us the best breakfast Lewis.”
“I can do that,” he assured her, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. “Although I can’t promise that my cooking will be as good as mummy’s dinner was that she made tonight.”
You slowly stepped towards the bed, perching down on the end of it. “Lewis can only stay if you promise to get some sleep, we can’t have a tired girl at the breakfast table tomorrow morning.”
Amelia nodded as she sat herself up and cuddled into Lewis’ side. His arm immediately moved around her frame, pressing several kisses against the top of her head. Your smile was wide as you watched the two of them, wondering once again how you ever got so lucky with the two of them.
“Maybe soon we can live so that we don’t have to have sleepovers,” Lewis spoke, taking you by surprise. “I’ve got a couple weeks off soon, and I was wondering about asking you and mummy what you thought about maybe coming to live in my house instead.”
“In your house?” Your daughter, grinned, spinning out of his hold so that she was face to face with Lewis. “Would we stay in your house forever?” She quizzed, bouncing up and down as Lewis’ head nodded, his eyes glancing across at the surprise in your expression.
It was a conversation that you’d never really had, and never expected to have so soon either, but Lewis’ mind was made up and he knew exactly what he wanted.
He couldn’t imagine life without the two of you, he hated the feeling of returning home to an empty house. The feeling didn’t compare to the feeling he got when he walked through your front door, immediately showered with love and greeted by his two favourite people, filled with excitement.
“You’d be able to come up with lots of plans and make your room exactly how you want it.”
“With a big bed?” She grinned, “and loads of teddies in the room too?”
Lewis nodded, wanting to give Amelia anything she wanted and more. He spoilt her rotten, one of the perks of not being her parent, even if it did leave him in trouble with you time after time.
“Are you excited about us coming to live with you Lewis?” She asked him.
“More so than you could ever imagine,” he whispered, reaching across and taking a hold of your hand. “You two have changed my life, I love being around the two of you, annoying your mummy and tickling you until you’re begging me to stop, that’s my favourite thing to do in the world.”
Both of you wore wide smiles as Lewis spoke openly, letting you know exactly how big of a role you both had in his life. The sentiment didn’t quite mean as much to Amelia as it did you, your heart was full as he spoke, whilst she still daydreamed about the new, amazing bedroom she’d been promised.
“If we live together, would we be a proper family? Like mum, dad, and me?”
Neither you or Lewis knew what to say, looking at each other. Your heart raced, terrified as Lewis stared blankly across at you, not quite believing what he had heard from her either.
“You do everything that a dad does,” Amelia spoke up, feeling the need to explain herself a little more. “You take care of me, and mummy. You take me to school, help me fix my toys when they break, give me cuddles when I’m having a nightmare.”
“That’s because I love you sweetheart,” Lewis smiled across at her.
“I know,” she smiled, “do you think...maybe...will you be my dad?”
You were nervous for a moment, but luckily the corners of Lewis’ mouth soon turned up. He squeezed Amelia even tighter, scooping her up and sitting her in his lap, scattering a trail of kisses from the top of her head, down and all over her face.
“I would love to be your dad, if that’s what you want,” he whispered.
Her head nodded, pressing her palms together. “You’re the best daddy in the world,” she told him, already full of confidence that no one could do a better job than Lewis.
“Sorry,” you whispered across to Lewis as you met his eyes, Amelia cuddling closer into his chest, “I had no idea she was going to ask you that, I’m sorry if you feel a little put on the spot.”
“It’s alright, in fact, it’s better than alright,” Lewis quickly assured you, “it would be the biggest honour of my life, it makes us more of a family, doesn’t it?”
You nodded in agreement as Lewis laid Amelia back down in bed again. “Did you mean what you said about moving in? You really want us to live with you? It’s not something you can just change your mind about.”
“I’ve never been more confident about anything,” Lewis smiled, “I don’t want to have to sit around and wait to see you guys anymore, I want to see you every day.”
You stretched across and pressed a kiss against Lewis’ cheek, “thank you for completing our family, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“You’re an amazing mum, with or without me,” Lewis smiled.
“And you’re an amazing dad too.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton imagine#formula 1 x reader#lewis hamilton smau#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#formula 1 smau#formula one x you#formula 1 social media#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula one#f1 smau#f1 fluff#f1 drabble#f1 x you
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❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)
Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.
a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)
tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor
wc: 3.7k
Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.
With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it.
It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once.
What a blatant lie.
Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).
Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.
You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.
But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.
“That’s my spot.”
Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk.
He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity.
“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.
For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him.
“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again.
This damn smile.
“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering.
He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you.
“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently.
You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore.
Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.
“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.
It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.
In the midst of summer, you pity him.
“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.
The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone.
“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question.
“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.
“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.
“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better.
“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”
There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you.
He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck.
“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?”
Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart.
“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.
By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone.
He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.
Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.
A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.
Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share.
The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.
You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you.
With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love.
You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right?
On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams.
He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens.
Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up.
“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”
It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone.
“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”
Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest.
“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe.
His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary.
You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.
The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over.
The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment.
You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses.
“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch.
Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.
In his arms.
Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket.
He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm.
And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again.
“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin.
“Damn right it is.”
You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.
You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs.
“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”
He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.
“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”
Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two.
Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.
#hq x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo fluff#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu reader insert#haikyuu imagines
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Also, like... I get that there is a lot of anxiety about being seen as morally good & fighting for everyone at every turn, but! Crucially, the people who try to guilt trip you or judge you off your Tumblr presence don't fucking know you. They don't know what you do off Tumblr. They may not know any other social media that you DO use for your politics and heavy posting. And, tbh, at a certain level of offline activism & direct action, it is actively dangerous for you to be posting about what you do online, so a perceived lack of interest or dedication online does not necessarily translate to the efforts you put in to causes you care about.
Fact of the matter is, YOU are the only one who knows what you get up to. If it's not as much as you think you should be doing, that's for you to assess and change. If you feel like you're doing enough, or if you feel like taking on more responsibility in activism would overwhelm you or burn you out, that's okay! You know your limits better than anyone else. You get to set your priorities. And if you really want to help with social justice causes, you HAVE to take care of yourself. Anger, fear, and guilt are not sustainable motivations to drive a movement. You NEED places to relax and have fun and not think about how bleak things can get. You NEED to have places to retreat, enjoy yourself, and remind yourself that it's all worth fighting for.
I know this, because I'm in my 30s now. When I was in my early 20s, I was friends with a lot of folks who went hard during the Ferguson protests, and while many of them are still active in their activism, almost none of them are operating on the same level as they used to. All of them are burnt out & depressed. I spend a lot of my energy urging them to take care of their most basic needs. We also have a problem with a lot of older activists being too broken & traumatized to continue organizing. And part of the problem is people within the movement encouraging people to push past their limits until they have nothing left to give. Or just having no support systems in place to help people recover while actively judging people who need them & can't continue without them.
And, like, it's hard, because it's easy to start feeling like no one cares about the stuff you care about when you're out there trying to make change -- especially true if all your activism is online posting & raising awareness. It can feel like you're talking to a void or a brick wall. The idea that you are so stressed & strung out & never let yourself take a break from the harsh reality of the world while there are people who have the audacity to make time to enjoy their lives and put their efforts into other activities that aren't directly related to The Cause -- well, that's why a lot of people resort to guilt trips. I know I did, too, when I was younger and freshly angry. And I know that those guilt trips did nothing to convince anyone of anything. In fact, it was the constant guilt trips that made me retreat from those online groups. Where they might have had any and all skills I could offer, they instead made me feel like shit for doing what I could handle at the time. And even though I knew guilt tripping was a major manipulation & abuse tactic, I still resorted to it and, in doing so, I felt wrong. Like I betrayed some of my core values by trying to make people feel so bad that they would suddenly realize that they should be ashamed & join the movement headfirst. It just... doesn't work that way. A guilt trip will turn people off. If you want people to join a movement or be more active in a movement they are already part of, it is so much better to encourage them to come with you to organized events or give them something tangible to do that they can actually accomplish. And if you're just talking about posting online, well... that is not the most important thing to focus on, and is a really bad measure to judge someone's morality.
All that to say, a guilt trip is usually a manifestation of the desperation folks are feeling. It's not right to guilt trip folks, and if you're at that point that you feel like that's the only thing that will get people to change and care, then I'm sorry to say you are probably on the verge of your own burnout and you need to take a break. Please don't let people make you feel bad for not being angry or on your activism shit 24/7. And don't judge yourself harshly when you need to have boundaries online. The best tactic will always be community building and working with people & their various skills on their level. Compassion and encouragement go so much farther than guilt.
No matter what a post on tumblr tries to tell you, your moral and ethical stances will never be determined by what you reblog and what you scroll past. Don’t let manipulation tactics force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.
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♱ ⋮ fratboy!chris headcanons ⸝⸝
all my fratboy!chris blurbs, fics, and wips : here
⇢ SFW
✱ fratboy!chris who, of course, met you at a party his fraternity threw and instantly decided you were comin' up to his room at some point, even if it wasn't gonna happen that night
" y'look good "
" me? "
" yeah, you— wa's y'name? "
✱ fratboy!chris who's known all too well by girls at boston university, though, despite contrary belief, he doesn't actually entertain most of them... guess you got lucky?
✱ fratboy!chris who's BU's resident dealer, known by every fiend on campus and more
✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't fuck with relationship labels whatsoever
✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't mess with anyone else, and doesn't want you to either, even though you guys aren't really 'dating'
✱ fratboy!chris who has no problem letting everyone know you're his with pride
✱ fratboy!chris who would rather focus on his lacrosse career than "some shitty college romances", or at least that's how he explains it to you
" and why are you telling me this? "
" jus' thought y'should know... i'on want you gettin' any funny ideas about what we got goin' on here "
✱ fratboy!chris who avoids any conversations about the future, or anything that requires him to even think about committing
✱ fratboy!chris who constantly needs you with him, whether he's just lounging around, at practice/games, or out making moves. ironic, isn't it?
✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't call you anything but mama, not even ma, no matter the occasion
" y'see how crazy you're bein' right now? mama, m'jus sittin' here, see? can't stand when y'do allat whinin' shit "
" don't call mama right now, chris, i'm done with all your fake nonchalant ass games "
✱ fratboy!chris who, even with being admired for his outgoing and charming personality, has such a rotten temper, especially when things don't go his way
✱ fratboy!chris who always says what's on his mind - to you, his friends, random people, anyone - even if it's completely unnecessary
✱ fratboy!chris who absolutely relishes in the respect he has from not only his peers, but the staff as well. humble's simply not a word in his world
⇢ NSFW
✱ fratboy!chris who's big and knows how to use it
✱ fratboy!chris who favors doggy, but can also get down with some rough missionary
" nah, s'okay mama... we'll switch it up tonight, don't worry "
✱ fratboy!chris who likes giving, but loves receiving. the image of your lips wrapped around his length is what helps him to sleep at night
✱ fratboy!chris who's a huge hair puller and thigh slapper (as well as occasional cheek squeezer)
✱ fratboy!chris who will take any opportunity he possibly can to either roll up or puff his joints while you use him
✱ fratboy!chris who makes sure to leave marks. usually where only you two can see, but if he feels like a guy's paying too much attention to you, he'll mark you on your neck or something for him to see
" chris, it's so obvious. how am i even gonna cover this up? "
" don't cover it. i'd like to see m'try an' get in your pants again when he sees allat "
" he literally asked for the material in our class..? "
✱ fratboy!chris who's almost always down for trying something new, but isn't usually one to suggest it
✱ fratboy!chris who loves when you praise him, even if it's unintentional. simple things like "so big," or "so good," really get him going
" yeah, s'good? y'wan more of that good shit? "
✱ fratboy!chris who, to no surprise, is horrible at aftercare.
a/n : i fear this took a lot longer than i thought it would to make... but i'll be making at least one of these for each of my au's since a) i'm unmotivated/don't have time to actually write, and b) want to develop the characters (and some of their pairings) further
-love, grandma cvnty ☆!
#cvntagious#★ ⋮ fratboy!chris#chris#chris sturniolo#christopher#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo au#christopher sturniolo au#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#frat bro chris#chris sturniolo smut#chris smut#christopher sturniolo edits#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo headcanon#headcannons#fratboy!chris#fratboy!chris headcanons#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt#matt girl#matthew#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo smut
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Hello!
I wanted to ask a question, if that's okay. So, I'm genderfluid afab and feel like a man sometimes (probably more often than I allow myself to realise). I don't have access to a Binder or anything of that sort (transphobic parents).
Is there any way for me to look/be more masculine? I'm a bit scared of goggling because I don't want to accidentally take advice from Tate people or the like.
(PS. I really like your Siegfried Farnon cosplay!)
Heya!
This is a tough one to answer. Because "masculine" means different things to different people. And "passing", as well.
Like. When I wear my fleece jacket and baseball cap, I'm deliberately passing as a certain type of man. But I felt more masculine the other day wearing an ascot.
So, I think we need to break down this question:
1) If you're looking to pass, there are going to be trans masc guides out there that will direct you to a very particular gender presentation. They tend to assume you are white and skinny. They present themselves as a list of Dos and Do-Nots, and at the end of the day, do more harm than good, imo. Because passing guides are almost always about hiding parts of yourself physically, often to the expense of hiding parts of your psyche.
Seek them out if you must, but when it comes to passing for safety, all I can suggest is ambiguous layers, a hat, keeping your head down and your mouth shut. The best way to pass is to not draw attention to yourself, alas.
2) If you're looking to dress more masculine to alleviate gender dysphoria, then you need to drill down to what makes you dysphoric and start there. My smaller feet is one area of contention for me, so I look for semi-dressy shoes that look long and elegant (like Taft boots). Since you can't get a binder, consider layers, if your chest bothers you.
3) If you're looking to dress more masculine to seek gender euphoria, then figure out your aesthetic masculine ideal. Make a pinboard of Looks you enjoy and see if there are trends. Some folks are drawn to athletic wear. Work wear. Perhaps a vintage aesthetic -- Rockabilly. 90s grunge. 1940s British country vet (meeeee, lol).
Ask yourself: What are the hallmarks of this style? Are there casual and formal versions? How does it change seasonally? How much of it is clothing and how much of it is the body (haircut, being muscular, etc)? And above all - what is this style trying to communicate to others?
Once done, see what sort of fashion tips are out there for your style. Who are the fashion experts and how much do you care about their advice? (Menswear guy has great tips about how a modern suit "should" fit, but a lot of his advice is also personal preference with a big dollop of classism.)
Pay close attention to how men wear their clothes -- where they sit on the body, how they style the outfit. Compare how a man is styled in your preferred look to how a woman is styled and see what that sparks in you. How much of it is the clothing or body? How much is posture? You might discern some visual shorthand you can harness to be read as more masculine. You might also come up with ways to have plausible deniability around your parents by being able to pivot a masculine look to be more feminine, when needed.
After all this research, get yourself to a thrift shop or other second hand option and start experimenting. Buying actual men's clothing is probably going to be your best bet, but depending on your Look Book, that may not always be the case.
No one can tell you how to feel more masculine -- that really needs to come from within. Once you figure that out, then it's a matter of reconciling your ideal look with the peculiarities of your body. (And all men have their own challenges wrt the fit of clothes.)
Afford yourself as much grace as possible when it comes to your body. And again, remember that feeling more masculine and passing more masculine may not always overlap and could even be at odds. And only you can determine if and when that is a problem.
#trans stuff#ty about Siegfried - his aesthetic is one I've been chasing most my life#so he is def my personal masculine ideal and his clothes are now more than cosplay for me
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In your general appreciation of nature, I am curious about your take on this - do you believe nature has reached "peak complexity"?
There was a time without flying animals. There was a time without land animals. There was a time without vertebrates, without segmented exoskeletons, without fur, without feathers, without complex social structures, without eyes. There was a time without plants, or any kind of photosythesis. There was a time without multicellular life.
But at this point, do you feel nature on planet Earth has evolved all "milestones" there are (and from now on, all additional complexity will have come from civilization, one way or another)?
I mean in terms of potential, assuming for a moment "nature" of some kind still exist during the next billion years or so.
Yes or No would be enough (lol), but of course spec evo ideas would be even cooler!
Nah I think there's absolutely infinite things nature could evolve some day that we can't even imagine. You really never know. Like it's 100% biochemically possible for something to "breathe fire;" there just has to be a sequence of mutations and the right competition to gradually make it happen, possibly starting with something that sprays boiling hot compounds like a bombardier beetle. I could also imagine a whole class of animals evolving like the modular people from All Tomorrows, because we already have Siphonophores. It's just a matter of something evolving to be a colony that can also come apart and keep functioning. I'm also obviously obsessed with the concept of a creature that weaponizes its own little symbiotic bugs, since I've used that a million times. Like maybe millions of years from now, a descendant of sloths will have upgraded from being full of moths to being full of tiny wasps? And then what if that's so effective they actually start diversifying like crazy and there's a whole era dominated by mammaloid wasp nest beasts ranging from grazers merely cleaned and guarded by their insects to predators who hunt with their assistance. Plant/animal physical symbiosis is also another thing that's not really taken off outside a few insects. Why shouldn't a plant some day decide it likes growing on some kind of animal's body? It's not a plant, but lichens grow on a species of weevil. It's so rare there aren't even photos, but I swear I saw video of one on BBC when I was a kid:
What if a moss adapts just to the shell of some big reptile and eventually the reptile starts to derive sustenance from it too?? Over time what if this evolves into basically real life Bulbasaurs, where the animal part can be sustained off sunlight? It'd just have to slow its animal metablism way, waaay down to meet the plant halfway. Maybe it hibernates for years and years at a time or spends decades developing like a cicada and then it emerges in pure mating mode, using up all the food it conserved as its flower finally blooms. I know most of my examples are now elaborations on something that's kind of almost already begun happening somewhere but you get the idea. Furthermore you never know if all life as we know it will die out one day while there's still a couple billion years left of the planet's physical existence. Then a whole new line of life could evolve that we can't conceive of at all, from the ground up. Like crystalline mineral trees that start talking to each other with laser light. Or maybe only bacteria are left but for some reason bacteria develop what they need to start sticking together and building a new kind of multicellular organism. What the heck would an equivalent to "animals" look like if the ancestor was a bacterium????? Holy fuck I'm mad I won't see it. Fuming and seething actually. This is the worst thing ever. Why am I doomed to die on regular animal planet with google bots and disney remakes. I wanna see salmonella animal planet. It's not fair.
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Wishes Do Come True
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summery: It was just a legend, something out in place to make people believe in something that couldn’t be true. But when fate has its way, JJ learns that sometimes, wishes do come true. CONTAINS SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!!
Ryan shot the gun first. He shot it because Ward was charging at him, his teeth bared and his arms spread wide. How fitting that he would go out as a somewhat decent father, a man who took three bullets and threw himself over a cliff to save his daughter and her Pogue best friends.
JJ remembers the feeling of the earth bending beneath his feet as he practically sprinted over to the edge, looking down past his feet to see where the Kook and the henchman lay. JJ thought it was strange, how someone could be so crumpled up, he knew bones weren’t made to bend that way, so seeing the way his body twisted made him a little sick.
He can hear Sarahs soft cries and echoing hiccups clearly, how Kiara seemed to grab onto herself to steady her breathing. He remembers seeing how tightly John B’s arms were woven around Sarah’s body, as if he were afraid she would jump next, as if her body could save his. There was no saving that, as sick as it was.
But what he really remembers, is the softness of her voice calling out for him, the way her voice shook like it was hard to get out. Only then did the sounds of his friends stop ringing in his ears, and through some champagne party effect, he could focus in on just the quietness of her. Only then did he realize as he tried to wrap his arm around thin air that she wasn’t at the ledge.
A stray bullet, it’s a funny thing. The shots fire, four, the last four bullets the man has, and only three reach the sacrificial lamb. The last one reaches one of the seven targets behind it.
Her hands shook over her upper stomach, gripping her skin just below her ribs. Even with a shaky focus, he could see the tint of read beginning to seep past her once light blue nails, now chipped and digging into the cloth of her shirt.
“JJ, I…I don’t…” She stumbled forward, her eyes flickering from his to some distant thing over his shoulder. She could barely focus her vision. He remembers the weight of her head hitting his shoulder as he caught her, the feeling of an extra warmth seeping into his own clothes, something wet and sticky that shouldn’t be drenching the two of them, but was.
“No, no, no. Come on cupcake, come on.” He gritted his teeth, trying to hold her up, but his need to keep her up was wavering at the look of agony on her face. She laid in his lap, his hand holding hers as they both pressed down on the wound, though, it was no use because they had no way home, and the nearest hospital wasn’t for miles. They had no idea where to even begin to search for one in the middle of all the greenery.
JJ rambled in a panic, a habit he’d always done, but she couldn’t make sense of it anymore. Her hearing was fuzzy and her vision came in and out in waves of darkness. She tried to look at her friends, but her eyes wouldn’t tear themselves away from her best friend’s face.
She had just gotten him, their love was still brand new, discovered on an island they were sure they would never find again. It was barely a month since they had shared a kiss under the stars, one both had been dreaming of for years. They went back and forth for what felt like centuries and now none of it mattered, because JJ was holding his love in his arms as she helplessly spat up blood and tried to focus on the blue of his eyes and not the tears on his face.
“It’s gonna be okay, you just gotta fight, you can fight. You fucking…” JJ broke out into a bitter laugh, one he didn’t mean as his palms messily wiped away the blood that trickled down her jaw. Red smeared everywhere, sticking to every crease in his skin. It burned, and so he kept smiling because his laughter, as disingenuous as it was, brought a weak smile to her face. “You saved my life, when I fell off that boat. You kept me alive, and I’m gonna keep you alive, so don’t give up on me.”
The sight of the tears finally spilling from her pretty eyes would forever haunt JJ, because he knew as her chest caved in against his lap, that the pain was too great to make her stay and suffer through, when they both knew she was as good as dead as soon as the gun was fired.
“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore.” She had told him weakly, the initial throbbing turning into an intense burning, a mix of the powder and the blood that pooled around her, soaking his skin through his pants.
“N-no, come on baby…baby, cupcake, please.” He pleaded. “I love you, please.”
Her ears seemed to clear at his heavy confession, and a sweet smile, the sweet smile he had fallen for back in the third grade, graced her pretty, tired face one last time.
“I love you JJ.” She promised, blinking back the tears. Somehow, she found the strength to lift his hand from her wound and press her bloodied lips to his sticky palm.
He had to watch the way her eyes fluttered shut, one last choked breath that sounded similar to what Pope would later explain as death rattle breathing, escaped her mouth, and that sweet little smile faded into nothing as she laid dead in her best friends arms.
JJ was never quite the same after that. He still loved his friends, he was still reckless and loud and impulsive, but he seemed to do it all for her.
When they won their money finally, he thought of all the things he would’ve bought for her, all the beaches they could’ve surfed across. When he finally found a place to call home, he placed her pillow on her side of his bed, fluffed it up for her and swore some nights he could feel her head resting on his heavy chest.
He thought of how much she would have loved Poguelandia 2.0. It was bittersweet to see the flag because all he could think of was their first kiss under the white flag that waved proudly above them.
He missed their matching P4L stick and pokes, he hated that he had to look at his forever and know it no longer matched with anyone. He hated that everyone else around him had someone to lean on, a lover to come home to, when he knew he would never be able to love again. But most importantly, he hated how young she was. She was only nineteen.
John B told him it wasn’t about the time we had with those we have lost, but what we make of it, but JJ was too angry to care. He didn’t care, it was easy for John B to say when he had lost a best friend, but JJ had lost so much more.
He wore her charm bracelet on his wrist, even though it was tight and caused a lot of noise. He loved the charms on them because they were old and made of clay and they matched his rings and necklace. She made them when they were ten because they were too young for their tattoos.
He swore to never go after treasure again, he couldn’t risk it, but with the promise of a singular wish, JJ followed along like a duckling to Morocco, blood on his shirt and a new father to betray him.
“You know, they say the crown grants a wish.” Kiara broke the silence between them in the heat one day, looking up at the sky to avoid the awkwardness of eye contact. She didn’t have to ask to know he would wish for her back in a heartbeat, but she did anyway because truthfully she liked the way JJ talked about her. It made her feel like her best friend was still alive.
“Yeah?” JJ scoffed with a smirk. “What would you wish for?” He asked, leaning over the unstable ledge, bricks dusty and the cement breaking apart. It wobbled under his forearms.
“I’m not saying I believe it but…I’d wish to go back in time maybe. I’d try not to rush into everything.” She said calmly, her eyes finding JJ’s.
“What about you?” She asked softly, and JJ hummed.
“The thing about wishes is, they don’t come true if you say them.” Kiara laughed breathily at his words.
“Yeah?” She questioned for confirmation.
“Yeah.” He breathed out. “And I really want this one to come true.”
That phrase, “be careful what you wish for,” was made for people like JJ Maybank.
There’s this old game called “Monkeys Paw” that Y/n and JJ both loved when they were younger. One person would make a wish, and the goal of the game was to make that person regret that wish.
They would stay up for hours laughing about it.
If JJ wished for a pizza, the pizza was poisoned. If Y/n wanted a dog, it was rabid. They’d spend hours at a time waking up the neighbors just laughing at how outrageous they could make the faults.
Now that they were older, and now that Y/n was gone, JJ seemed to forget about the rules of the game.
He stumbled back, all air caught in his throat. He lost the crown, and he’d lost his girl, and now, here his biological father was with a knife twisted deep into his abdomen, pulling it out with a sickening crunch.
Kiara pleaded for him to keep fighting, her hands on the wound in a way that reminded him of the way he desperately pressed against Y/n’s all those weeks ago. Her cries were just as desperate, and they were just as fuzzy.
JJ now felt thankful he let her go peacefully, because living through the pain was insufferable, and he knew it would have been cruel to make her fight it any longer.
He cried a little, but he wasn’t sad. No, he was happy, even as Kiara screamed for Pope and John B, begging for help that would do no good because just like his precious Y/n, there was no way home and no help in sight.
He let out a hiccup, and his eyes focused on her brown ones as his vision cleared for a moment, the sting turning into a familiar burn.
“Kie, I never told you my wish.” He smiled, and she shook her head.
“No, Jayj, come on, you gotta fight it. I can’t lose you too.” She pleaded, and it was like he wasn’t even listening as he kept choking out words.
“I already got what I wished for.” He smiled.
All he ever wanted was a home, and though every sacred place he ever had to call that were short lived and destroyed, he had found it in the people who loved him, and the people he loved.
JJ wished for so much more than anyone thought, and he’d gotten all of it.
He had you at one point, and he was eternally grateful for every hug he ever received from your loving arms. He had Pope and John B, who made him laugh like no one else ever could, his ribs sore and his stomach shaking. Kiara and Sarah kept him grounded. He was grateful for how much they cared, how safe he felt around them. He knew he would miss his best friends more than anything else, he would miss them like family, because thats what they were.
The Pogues were his family, and his family was his home.
JJ wished for one last thing with the crown as the darkness took him. He slipped away from his body, his head lulling to the side as Kiara shook him, but he wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t afraid because there she was.
Kneeling beside Kiara and she didn’t even know, there she was, her sweet smile and her pretty eyes. She was holding both Kiara’s hand, and his hand, nothing more than wind to them on the ground, but now JJ could see her, and now he could hold her.
“Y/n? Cupcake?” He breathed out with a smile, the luckiest man in the world, even if his toes didn’t physically touch the dirt or the sand anymore.
“Jay…” She smiled back, a sweet sound falling past her lips, and it was simply half of his name.
As his arms wrapped around her tightly, his nose buried into her shoulder. It felt good to know that he would never have to let her go again, and that someday, his friends would have the same pleasure of holding him again too.
JJ’s wish had been a little greedy, because in addition to what he was already granted, he wished to be with Y/n again.
He guess he never really specified how but hey, wishes really do come true.
#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank fluff#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x you#jjmaybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jjmaybankangst#jj maybank x pogue!reader#maybank#maybankxyou#p4l
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Jude Jazza Main Story: Preview
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
My sin is— an unfulfilled promise.
It all started with a single promise I blurted out in the heat of the moment.
…
Kate: Until my time as the Fairytale Keeper comes to an end, I’ll keep looking for something I can love about you.
Jude: Remember one thing, Princess. … My “promises” ain’t cheap.
Jude: If ya break yer promise, I’ll show ya a livin’ hell that’ll make ya wish ya were dead.
Jude Jazza, a member of Crown and president of a trading company. He was an arrogant, merciless, unforgiving villain. He was… exactly the despicable jerk my first impression and his reputation warned me of.
…
Kate: If you keep going out of your way to make enemies, incurring the enmity of others, and putting yourself in more danger… you’ll… end up dead, you know?
Jude: Ha? What’s it to ya if I die from all the grudges against me?
Jude: Don’t go actin’ all righteous and stickin’ yer nose where it don’t belong, idiot.
Jude: No passin’ out now. Ya still owe me two rounds, mister.
Amidst the endless cycle of revenge, he laughed in joy.
He was a cruel man who delighted in the misery of others. There was no way I could ever come to love someone like him.
But if I didn't fulfil my promise, it would be a breach of our contract— and I would become his prey.
…
As I desperately tried to find something to love about him, we slowly grew closer— and the promise he wanted to fulfil became apparent.
Jude: Ain’t laughin’? That’s rare.
Kate: I’m not going to laugh. While it’s true that you’re narrow-minded, arrogant, cruel, greatly disliked, and a true villain right to the core…
Jude: Go on.
Kate: … No matter who they are, I would never laugh at someone’s genuine dream.
That night, when we shared things about ourselves that we never revealed to other people— I found myself falling into the depths of love.
… Because I fell in love with him, I realised things I never wanted to… like his true feelings.
…
Kate: — You really should stop making any more enemies, in order to fulfil the promise.
Kate: And yet… you’re crossing dangerous bridges on purpose.
Jude: … What ya tryin’ to say?
(The truth is, Jude is…)
(He’s…)
Kate: Do you want to give up?
Jude: …
Jude: So what if I am?
In this world where no amount of grudges, hatred, or cries can bring back what was lost— you’re more exhausted than anyone from carrying the burden of a promise you can't forget.
…
Kate: I…!
Jude: Love’s a curse.
Jude: Sayin’ “I love you” is like sayin’”I’ll put a curse on you.”
Jude: It hurts when ya lose it, ya hate it when it’s taken from ya, and it’s unforgivable if ya get betrayed.
Jude: And yet, ya can’t resist it once it’s given to ya. Love’s the root of all evil.
Jude: I don’t wanna curse nobody, nor be cursed myself.
There's no saving you from love. It only brings you pain and suffering.
As I was crushed by this undeniable truth, a dark shadow crept up on me.
…
???: Don’t move. Put your hands up…!
???: Crown member Jude Jazza, you're under arrest by the order of Her Majesty's private army,
Ellis: Jude.
Jude: Ellis, stay outta this.
Kate: Why!?
Ellis: … He’s probably being framed.
…
Even if you reject my love, even if you push me away, I’ll keep clinging to you.
But while on the run, you…
Jude: That’s enough. This time, I’m endin’ our contract.
Jude: I got nothin’ to do with ya anymore. Don’t care how ya do it, just get outta my sight.
Kate: What… how could you… you said it yourself that a one-sided cancellation of the contract is invalid!
Kate: I refuse. I want to be together with you—
Jude: … Kate.
He touched his fingers to my forehead.
He was all I could see as he gave me a pained smile.
Jude: I thought it was stupid of ya to go lookin’ for something to love about me.
Jude: But bein’ genuinely liked without an ulterior motive… doesn't feel so bad.
Jude: — Good night, Princess.
…
It was unbelievable how he put me to sleep, ignoring my wishes, and did as he pleased.
That arrogant, cruel, unforgiving villain.
And yet, because I was in love with him—
I wasn't going to forgive him so easily for abandoning me after saying his piece.
When I woke up, I chased after the 13th fairy… and cast a curse on him.
An merciless, unbreakable curse called love.
…
Jude: Of all people, I’ll make sure that ya never feel unhappy. And ya ain’t allowed to leave me, either.
Jude: That's the price for castin’ this curse on me.
Let’s make a promise— even if it curses you.
#ikemen villains#ikemen series#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#ikevil translations#otome#ikevil main story#jude main story#jude jazza
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honestly i think a lot of us should consider getting involved in local republican primaries and conventions and stuff to get less cartoonishly evil people into the party. i mean if we're stuck with a two-party system anyway, i feel like it'd be in our best interest to try and defang the worse party, instead of only pushing the vote-blue-no-matter-who angle that's been giving us so many pro-war candidates (or just plain incompetent ones). i mean like pushing from the inside to take face-eating leopard stuff off the platforms... we could potentially fumigate the republican party from the inside out if we really dug into it i think.
my extended family has a statistically above-average gay & trans proportion, and what i've gathered from talking to older/more conservative-leaning relatives is that there seems to be a strong and widespread desire to just see some politicians who will decrease/reprioritize the collection and spending of tax money and reeeeally don't like the way the republican party as an organization always tries to bundle that with attacking queer freedom... the same way i (and many of you i hope) hate the way the democratic party seems to have been bundling promises of various minority protections with drone strikes on the middle east. it would probably be worthwhile to find local politicians and movements that want to get the anti-queer stuff off of the local/county republican platforms before it can spread out to the state or national levels. i really believe the true frothing hatred of the biggest names is a vocal minority... like, in my experience, people in real life really are just like "how's it going man" more often than not. i think there's an untapped potential for a powerful bipartisan de-zealotification.
of course we should be doing the same for the left too, but i really don't think the solution for a two-party system is to just make it a one-party system instead by only showing up every two or four years to vote blue down the ballot and then stop thinking about it the rest of the time. no i don't have all the solutions or the perfect battleplan; this push would look different for every household in every city in america, because this country is so diverse and so are its issues... i just think we should be taking the shaka zulu approach of tackling the system from both sides instead of just throwing ourselves against the left flank only.
#like we need to do stuff besides yelling ''IT'S HOPELESS!! HALF THE COUNTRY WANTS US DEAD!!'' bc it's just untrue#sorry for the political talk lately but that's what's been on my mind for obvious reasons#i'll return to my regular minimal-politics policy in a few more business days#shebbz shoutz
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close to you | l.n
summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.
warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there
jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍
masterlist | listen to the playlist
before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.
to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.
that was until you met him.
the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.
You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.
sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.
but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.
it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.
until pietra confirmed your suspicions.
“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”
you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”
she scoffed, “more like know so,”
“who told you?”
“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”
you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”
but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.
ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.
he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.
and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.
he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.
so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.
he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”
your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“
“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”
how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.
and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.
as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.
he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.
“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”
your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”
he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”
there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.
the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.
he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.
he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.
he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”
you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”
“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.
you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.
you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.
“hey, lando! long time no see!”
you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.
“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.
“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.
“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“
“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”
what was that supposed to mean?
you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“
“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”
you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.
“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.
“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”
lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”
you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”
you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”
“up to your room, huh?”
you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”
“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.
“yeah, we can put it that way.”
he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.
he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.
“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”
he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”
you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.
finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”
he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”
you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”
he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.
the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.
you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”
he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”
you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.
“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”
“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”
you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.
he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.
his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”
your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”
he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.
“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”
his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.
“never mind, it’s dumb-“
“lando,”
“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“
you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.
it was too late now, no going back.
you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.
“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“
it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.
you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.
when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.
“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.
“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.
“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”
“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”
you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”
“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”
you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”
“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#ln4 x reader#fluff#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 fluff#lando norris x reader fluff#lando norris x reader imagine#lando norris x reader fluff imagine#lando norris fluff imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris fluff x reader#ln4 fic#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#ln4 one shot#ln4 fluff x reader#ln4 x reader fluff#ln4 x reader imagine#ln4 x reader fic#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren formula 1#mclaren formula one#formula 1#formula one#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic
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There's a serious issue with men running towards hate groups or gangs because it's hard for men to find community with other men. I'm not educated enough to explain possible reasons why in a lot of detail, and I'm sure there are multiple things happening here, but I really do think men aren't loved as much as women are. Toxic masculinity hurts everyone, and in men's cases it means you can't show emotion, you can't experience intimacy with other men without it being "Gay" (let alone actually being gay), don't expect genuine compliments on your achievements or appearance, and the only thing society sees from you is what you can offer everyone else.
Men aren't allowed to be people, they just have to be robots with no feelings and no intimate relationships or community. They're supposed to just save the women and children, and then die.
And so a lot of men run off to join gangs and shit because they crave a community that will support them. Gangs, the military (which is a gang), the police (also a gang), etc. Tends to be the only way men are allowed to have friendships. That or sports. Which is also just. Group of men being competitive against another group of men, so same fucking difference.
I grew up around gang culture bullshit, both inner city and other things, and the boys in my class were literally told that most of them were going to end up dropping out and joining a gang by the staff. "85% of you will probably drop out and join a gang, so we're going to try and keep you in school to keep you from doing that" and you expect teenagers to think you fucking value them?
That's what men are expected to do. Drop out and join a hate group or a gang that makes you feel valued in a way you aren't getting at home. Boys grow up without feeling valued, and turn to each other, and that fosters communities that feel slighted (incels are another good example of this), and have no where to direct this rage but at the rest of the world.
I have always hated the "fuck cis heteronormative white men" shit because two reasons: it's wrong to generalize entire groups of people and we can't have honest discussions about privilege if we just sit there contributing to the problem by alienating people. Men deserve to know that they matter, that they're loved, that they're valued as human beings.
There are genuine problems with toxic masculinity, toxic whiteness, toxic heteronormativity in western cultures (and others, but I can't speak on that myself). And constantly telling people that they're the problem, when it's not individuals that are the problem, it's the system itself, does nothing, helps no one, and further drives men into thinking that the only place they can find love is with other men who also feel slighted, angry, and alone.
The left needs to understand that the way privilege has been discussed the last couple decades is not helping. Trying to subvert the hatred marginalized people feel onto the majority does not help marginalized people, or making the majority give a shit more than before. It just causes further division. And this division and devaluing of masculinity as this inherently evil thing, and that men deserve nothing, just makes them feel less valued and more likely to engage with violence. This isn't that hard to fucking understand.
I love men. I value masculinity in all the healthy ways it can be expressed and experienced. Men deserve to feel beautiful, and to feel loved, and to feel like they're a complex human being like anyone else is.
I couldn't have said it better myself.
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I am the Princess in the Tower.
You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."
It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.
Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.
I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.
It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.
I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?
Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.
See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...
Not buying it?
Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...
No good?
Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!
...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.
Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.
And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.
There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair
I wish
I hope that you
Please don't
I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,
The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.
#relia writes#eggbug writes#fantasy#first thing ive written in kind of a while#im considering running away from a lot of things#a tower sounds really nice right now
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birthday sex w sunghoon <3
- 🐰
HAPPY BELATED MY BELOVED BOOMF!! I feel so guilty this is so late but....well..enjoy xoxo
You had a peculiar relationship to your birthday. It’s not that you hated it, you just didn’t care for it. You didn’t people to be extra nice to you and treat you special one day of the year, if they weren’t going to bother the other 364 days. Sunghoon, however, was obsessed with you, and while yes he worshipped you every day, he took your birthday as the chance to truly go all out. And you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were a little flustered by it. Sunghoon had refused to divulge any details leading up to the day, no matter how much you whined for any sort of clue.
When the day finally came, your alarm was a serious of slow kisses across your face—your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, gentle pecks at your list. You swat away the force invading your dreams grumbling as you turn over.
“Shhhh I’m making out with the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my dreams,” you mumble.
“Ouch, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself,” Sunghoon teases against your ear.
“Fuck me instead” you yawn out as you stretch and wrap Sunghoon in your arms.
“Hey now, you can’t be spoiling all your birthday surprises so easily,” he says with a chuckle.
You force your eyes open against the soft morning light and grin into the face of your boyfriend.
“Happy Birthday, Baby.” He greets you.
“Blehhhh,” you stick your tongue out and shake your head while you stretch. “Don’t remind me that I’m a year older.”
“And somehow, you’re still looking younger.”
You snort, although you find Sunghoon’s cheesiness endearing. You’d give him the sun, and he’d give you the moon if you both could.
***
Sunghoon let you laze in bed, but not too long. Just long enough to eat the extravagant brunch he made. There was itinerary he had planned—none of which you were privy to. But after you got ready, he took you by the hand, first leading you to your favorite cafe for a drink before taking you the ice skating rink. Both of you were former skaters, but this time the rink felt like your personal playground, both of you colliding into each other in giggling fits. The hours seemed to slip by without you noticed. Your phone consistently was lighting up with streams of messages from your friends, but you barely had time to respond, Sunghoon kept you busy. After the rink, was of course shopping, and then it was late enough in the day, you could call it for an early dinner.
“I’m hungry, Hoon, “ you pouted.
“Okay, okay, we’ll have dinner soon. Our reservation is at 6.” You checked the time on your phone—5:30. You recognized the road he was leading you towards—it was your favorite restaurant. It wasn’t frilly—in fact, it was very lowkey. But you had dozens and dozens of memories that you had made throughout the years, and the food there was nearly as comforting as your mom’s food from home. The two of you managed to get seated a little earlier in a booth near the back, it was early enough on a Saturday evening, you were just beating the dinner rush.
“You’re always so prepared,” you praised Sunghoon as the server both poured you a glass of water. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, batting your eyelashes. The dim lighting and soft music made the rest of the world fall away, so it was just the two of you, dancing in a snow globe.
“Only the best for you,” Sunghoon responded, and you felt his leg rub up against yours underneath the table. “Did you have a good day?” He asked in follow up.
“I spent it with you, of course I had a good day.”
“No, but be honest was it fun?” “I think it was the most fun I’ve had on my birthday in a really long time.” “Good,” Sunghoon said, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.
*** The rest of dinner was perfect, and you were happily buzzed by the time you made it back to your apartment. Sunghoon opened the door and you fell inside, your hand wrapped tightly around his arm.
“I love you, Sunghoon,” you declared happily.
“I love you too, Y/N,” He responded and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Do you want dessert, by the way?”
Your brows furrowed. “Not really—“ He cuts you off with another kiss.
“Well I want dessert,” he whispers against your mouth and his hands are sliding up underneath your dress, gripping into your thighs as he presses you against the wall, dragging his lips across your jaw and down your neck. You don’t fight the soft moan that comes out of you, and you run your hands up in his hair, happy to have the night go a little longer.
You and Sunghoon are a tangle of limbs and flying clothes as he guides the two of you to your bedroom, falling down on top of you onto the plush sheets. His mouth travels up and down you like a starved man, luxuriating upon every taste of you, and he hold you tight with every twitch and roll of your body against him.
“May I?” He asks, voice husky, eyes wild as his hands slide to your panties, and you frantically nod.
Sunghoon palms your center, and the friction against your core elicits a gasp.
“Don't tease me," You rasp.
“Ah ah Ah," Sunghoon chides. “You let me take care of everything.” He’s slow and steady, drawing out every moan and gasp. His tongue expertly glides against your wet folds, lapping up every drop of sweetness he pulls from you and fter your first orgasm, he decides it isn’t enough.
“Let me in, baby,” he whispers against you, eyes glazed with desire as his mouth still glistens from you. You look up from underneath him and even though your body is exhausted, you nod.
“I want you, Hoon, I want to feel you inside me so bad.” “I want you, Y/N,” he pleads, desperate to feel one with you. And you’re so wet, that when he wets his girthy tip against you, rubbing it up and down your soaked cunt, it slips right in.
Your eyes rolls back from the sensation, and Sunghoon curses under his breath, gripping the headboard to steady himself as he pushes into you inch by inch.
“You’re so warm and perfect for me,” He croons and all you can think about is how he smells so sweet, his lips so pink, and his touch so gentle as he rolls his hips against yours.
“Hold on tight, okay baby?” He says softly, and you obediently dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his and squeezing tight. He feels it, feels your pussy tighten around his cock and he buries his face into your neck, trying to pace himself as his body tenses. Sunghoon nips and presses soft kisses to the tender skin at your neck, all the meanwhile picking up pace. He deftly grabs one of the pillows and sweeps it under your hips, elevating you, and you cry out his name as the new angle hits harder and deeper.
“I want to look at your face while you cum,” Sunghoon whispers, and the dark husk of his tone brings you to the edge then and there.
“Cum with me love,” you beg, and Sunghoon wraps his hands around your hips, squeezing tight as he thrusts into you relentless. He pushes himself up a bit and brings a finger to your clit, and you gasp, feeling pleasure in every single nerve ending.
“Mmm—Hoon!” You gasp, “I’m close I’m close, I’m gonna come, I”m gonna come I’m gonna—!” You break off babbling, and Sunghoon collapses on top of you as he reaches his high and you unravel together on your bed at the same time, holding each other tight as you come down from ecstasy.
“Happy Birthday my love,” Sunghoon says with a hoarse laugh as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Happy, happy, happy birthday.”
#the muses speak#chat#chat.txt#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon hard thoughts#park sunghoon smut#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#enha hard hours#enha smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut
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A Letter From Your Future Self
Hello!! It's been a long time! 2024 has been very tiring for me and I haven't posted in a while, so I am back with a PAC !
Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes and choose the photo that you feel drawn to. 3 piles left to right. This is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates.
Pile One
I know that you feel bored and dissatisfied in your current situation. The people around you make you feel left out and you're in a path where you feel emotionally starved. You might be contemplating taking a big step for your future and I'm here to tell you that you definitely should. But before that I want you to make a plan and stick to it so that you can get out of this situation gracefully. Firstly, you need to work on your time management. If you do that you're half done. Next, broaden your mindset. Once you take that big leap, you will understand how much you underestimated yourself. In fact I am thankful that you understand the state of your mental wellbeing and take it seriously. Remember that you are always learning and always growing so always have a learners mindset. Learning new skills and languages will really help you in the future. Nothing is impossible if you know how to make it happen. Don't let your achievements get to your head and be honest about your finances. Please get into the habit of budgeting. If you don't budget it will cause you to worry in the future. Budgeting isn't just keeping track of your transactions but also consuming mindfully. If you have a hard time managing your finances then take help from a trusted source. And lastly develop healthy boundaries, not too open but not too closed off either. Don't worry you will figure out all of it so take your time!!
-✉️
Pile Two
I just want to say that you are brave and capable of fighting all of your demons. You are so strong and resilient. I sometimes can't believe that I survived. It's because YOU did it all. In retrospect, the battle seems small to me but I know how hard it must be for you. You feel like you are in the trenches but you will definitely make it out, slow and steady. You may ask your angels and guides for help. Now is a great time to try engaging in spiritual practices and focusing on your health. You will be given amazing opportunities because you have amazing potential to earn wealth. So while the current situation seems like the opposite, I want you to look forward to what the future holds for you. You need to let go of what is holding you down. This is a rite of passage for you to sail to calmer waters. Trust me, the weight will be lifted because you are divinely protected. The struggle will end soon. You will gain victory over your fears and enemies. So tune out all the noise outside and listen to yourself and your calling. Grab the opportunities that the universe sends your way because that will be your path to a new life. Listen to positive affirmations and keep a journal for all your manifestations. You have the gift of manifesting your whole life. Do you understand how big that is? The law of attraction is very much real so start practicing it. Love you and take care <3
-✉️
Pile Three
You do so much work but you are still not in control. I know how exhausting that can be. You're working yourself to the bone expecting a better outcome everyday but it all goes back to where you began. First of all I want you to take pride in your work. You have always been a hard worker so it's no surprise that you are competent. However it's important that you understand how teams work. You shouldn't be doing all the work while the other(s) laze around. I know how much this matters to you which is why you go in and give your 100% but understand that sometimes it's okay to take a step back and let others do the work. You should not let them use you and your efforts and then not give you the credit. It's time to speak up. Ask for help from people you trust. They will guide you out of this situation. Make sure that you have a backup plan in case your confrontation backfires. Always have people around you who won't back down from supporting you. You are on the right path. Remember that you haven't done anything wrong. You are simply asking for what you deserve. With the amount of talent, strength, willpower and resilience you possess, no one could be more deserving of better treatment than you. In the end you will gain power over all those who overstepped your boundaries and snatched control from you. Don't be scared of fighting this battle.
-✉️
Thank you for reading 🌱
Here's a chakra healing audio just because :)
https://youtu.be/GnchFh0bMHU?si=gbOxoHd9RC9ziZQO
#pick a card#pick a card reading#pick a pile#pick a pile reading#pick a picture#tarot community#tarot reading#tarotblr#divination#intuitive readings#intuitive messages#intuitive tarot reader#intuitive guidance
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With the amount of notes this has I'm sure someone has already explained something like this but probably in a much better way than I can. However I'll try to explain it as best I can. I want to emphasize here that this information is based on conversations and discussions that I have had, with people who openly refer to themselves as Right Wingers (or who were previously Right Wingers) on forums and websites. While I am a Leftist and can't speak to how the Right operates from personal experience, I can speak as someone who has spoke to individuals who do know from personal experience.
The general gist is that the thing you need to keep in mind is that, so many of us on the Left have an understanding of what the problem really is. We get that the problem isn't that someone happens to be a man because of how they were born of because of their gender identity. However as someone with far less (if any) understanding of those societal issues they do not. They see the Left as saying "men are inherently bad." It gives them no recourse to not be a problem, they may not even actively be part of the problem yet but they don't know that the problem is larger than "you're a man, and I don't like that."
Meanwhile that meanspo you speak of, gives them direction. It gives them a direct out from being a person who is looked down on; and promises them that if they can just do these things on a checklist, they'll be respected, they'll live a good life; they'll be an "Alpha" or whatever. It's an easy decision when you feel like one side is telling you not to be what you are, because what you are is somehow inherently a problem; and they (the loud majority) hate you too much to explain how. While the other side is saying you're just not as good of a man as you should be, you're just a beta male because you don't do X, Y, Z.
As someone who is a Leftist who spends a lot more time than I probably should; actually talking to Right Wingers online. This is literally something people have told/asked me outright.
"Do you expect anyone in their right mind, to side with people who say they're wrong for just being a man; when the other side would offer them a ladder to be on top?"
If you notice, this statement neglects the actual problems, it summarizes the issue down to "you're wrong for just being a man." Which isn't what many of us are saying at all, but is what the Right, and individuals who would be converted to it; are hearing.
You are correct in saying it's objectively worse, in that yes; the Right are horrible people. They thrive on treating others on their side poorly to stay "above" them. However they always hold the promise over others that if you make enough money, if you work out, if you have enough sex; then you can also be on the top. The top doesn't seem that great when the bottom is comfortable enough. They have to ensure you feel like garbage but make sure you also have a clear understanding that it's only because you're not doing enough to climb the ladder.
Leftists don't really offer any similar ladder. Our issues with sexism, inequality, the patriarchy as a whole; etc. are a lot harder to break down. Not to mention that a good man isn't really given any reprieve from these problems, he's simply aware of them. A good man, no matter how good; can't just end racism or sexism himself. We don't do a lot to actually give men a proper course of action, we don't give them an easy to follow guide on how to be a good man by just doing quantifiable things, it's not that simple. We just tell them they're bad because the culture they grow up in is predisposed to turn young men into sexist, racist, bigots.
Obviously we're not all actually just saying "men are bad, fuck men; fuck you if you are a man." Some of us, I'd argue a lot of us, are actually trying to educate people as to the wider issues around "being a man" so to speak. I think that's sort of what leads to this question of "how could anyone in their right mind willingly side with the Right?" It's really no different than how cults recruit depressed and desperate people. The Right isn't watching for people to sort of react poorly once to a Leftist and then immediately jump in like "hey kid come join the Right!" It's more that they prey on dejected men who don't feel like they have direction. The Right gives them direction, it's awful; but it's something quantifiable. Last week they were a "beta male" this week they're going to the gym, they're talking to women; they're applying to jobs that pay more or whatever. Because some "Alpha male" made a video, blog post, podcast; etc. that told them that these things will make them successful, get them out of the rut they're in; and fix their problems.
It's a problem that can't be simplified down to a singular answer unfortunately, it's obviously much larger than that. This isn't meant to be a catch all "I've solve the grand mystery of why people are bigots!" Rather I'm just trying to offer some insight into one such potential cause.
the idea that reactionary spaces are attractive to men because they treat them kindly unlike The Left is so odd because whenever I come across that content it's essentially the same dynamic as pro ana "meanspo". if you don't know what that is, it's "motivation" based on degrading the viewer to the point where they can't "make excuses" and not become anorexic, or in this case a true Alpha Male. I feel like thisis objectively worse for someone's mental health than The Left
#There's a lot more to it than this but this is sort of specifically what I've heard and seen in respect to the whole meanspo thing#which is very real and used by a lot of people from cults and right wingers to even capitalistic jobs#not to mention literally how most commercials function to try to make you buy a product.#It works because it simplifies a complex solution into an easy and quantifiable one and done step to betterment.#It's all a fraud sure; but the people desperate enough to listen to it aren't going to catch that.
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You say that magic is ever evolving and therefore closer to its roots than it's ever been. I think the problem is, when people try to tell you adding spiderman is a bad thing, is these are the people who followed the very story Wizards took the time to create and to them it's something sacred. They're the people who either grew up with the Purifying Fire, or actually rooted for the Gate watch. The people who cheered when Nicol Bolas went down. I think those are the people who are sad to see Spiderman eating up that space. It's like your favorite series but the plot is totally different. It's the story people care about, whether told through the cards or the Wizards website. That Wizards made us care about only to then tell us it doesn't matter. Fans don't like it when that happens. I feel you must understand deep down.
I do understand why people dislike Universes Beyond. I am very invested in Magic’s creative. I spent time creating Magic story (The Weatherlight Saga). I’ve done card concepting. I’ve done names and flavor text. There was even a few years where I managed the creative team.
There was even a time when I shared those beliefs about what Magic’s creative should and shouldn’t be, and was firmly against outside properties on Magic cards. I understand you all because for a long time I was you.
But what Magic is and is not isn’t decided by any one person. It’s decided by the collective consciousness of all of us.
I don’t personally like Walls as a creature type. Commander isn’t my personal cup of tea. And as a player, I’m not a fan of discard. But those are all a part of Magic because the amalgam of Magic players wants it to be part of the game, and I respect that being part of the Magic community is letting each player have the ability to enjoy what they love about the game.
Note when we started Universes Beyond, we weren’t sure what the player response would be. We dipped our toe in slowly. We limited what formats it appeared in.
We then looked at the data. Most players just wanted access to the cards they wanted to play, and didn’t care what the creative that was on it, so over time we leaned more in that direction.
But look, if there’s a large enough playerbase that cares, we’ll respond. If you really want a Universes Beyond free format, make one. If it gets enough player support, we’ll follow suit.
Remember, we didn’t make Commander. The players did. When it got popular enough, we tried out a product, and the success of that product convinced us to make more.
We really do follow the will of the players. If what you feel is important to you, find fellow players who feel the same way. Get enough together and I promise we’ll take notice.
Right now the data that we see, says that isn’t the case, but I’m always happy when the amalgam of players shows us we’re wrong. If that happens, we’ll pivot. We always do.
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