#if only there was such thing as FREE UNIVERSITY!

[sunseed-fandump]

The Tarot from the new trailer has me FLIPPING OUT (Sorry for the shitty screenshot) I was already making an analysis on the previous cards we got, but THIS has really got me doing backflips in my head because of the implications.

Let me explain.

First off, have you noticed that one of these cards is not like the others?

The first card, Strawberry Cookie, is in reverse. She is on the major arcana card XII - The Hanged Man. When the Hanged Man is in Reverse, it represents Delays, resistance, stalling, indecision, stagnation.

"The upright Hanged Man encourages you to pause for a moment and see things from a different perspective. Reversed, this card can show that you know you need to hit the pause button, but you are resisting it. Instead, you fill your days with tasks and projects, keeping busy and distracting yourself from the actual issue that needs your attention. Your spirit and body are asking you to slow down, but your mind keeps racing. Stop and rest before it’s too late. The Universe will only dial up the volume if you ignore it, and as a result, you may end up crashing. So, as soon as you hear the call, clear your schedule and make the space so you can tune in and listen."

Next we move on to Gingerbrave's card: 0 - The Fool.

In the Upright Position, the Fool represents new beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit, and adventure.

"To see the The Fool generally means a beginning of a new journey, one where you will be filled with optimism and freedom from the usual constraints in life. When we meet him, he approaches each day as an adventure, in an almost childish way. He believes that anything can happen in life and there are many opportunities that are lying out there, in the world, waiting to be explored and developed. He leads a simple life, having no worries, and does not seem troubled by the fact that he cannot tell what he will encounter ahead."

Finally we have Wizard Cookie's card: I - The Magician.

In the Upright position, the Magician symbolizes logic, desire, resourcefulness, willpower, intelligence, skill, and manifestation.

"When you get the Magician in your reading, it might mean that it's time to tap into your full potential without hesitation. As a master manifestor, The Magician brings you the tools, resources and energy you need to make your dreams come true. Now is the perfect time to move forward on an idea that you recently conceived. The seed of potential has sprouted, and you are being called to take action and bring your intention to fruition. The skills, knowledge and capabilities you have gathered along your life path have led you to where you are now, and whether or not you know it, you are ready to turn your ideas into reality."

So what do these 3 cards mean together? Well, we have someone who is stagnating, who is stuck and unable to move forward. But they go through a rebirth - an epiphany - and start on the path of a new journey. And on that new path they unlock their full potential.

This is Pure Vanilla Cookie's story in the next update in a nutshell!

Sorry for the sorta long post, i just wanted to geek out about this since I love love love it when Tarot is used as a narrative device :)

[peachdues]

FREE USE UNIVERSITY!

Tengen x Sanemi x Kyojuro x Reader Roomate Free Use AU • NSFW

A/N: a new mini-series. this is meant to be a headcanon post that I can add to whenever horny. I have no excuse for this. It’s straight smut.

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below • free use • threesomes • voyuerisum • somnophilia • oral sex • references to anal sex • just straight filth tbh • creampies

Some roommates do group movies or grocery trips to bond; your roommates, however, have adopted a different approach. 

Tengen is the first to initiate this little exchange, and at the beginning, it really isn’t an exchange at all. Instead, it starts out as a simple request: stress relief. He’d come home angry and pissed after a lab went horribly wrong, and there you’d been, too irresistible to be hanging around the apartment in those too-short shorts. He’d taken one look at you, lounging on the couch in the living room, idly flipping through a textbook, and his frustration had made him bold enough to ask.

Maybe it had been the look in his eyes — fiery and sultry, an unusual contrast to his normal, loping swagger, that made you clench your thighs together. Or, perhaps it was simply because he was hot and it had been ages since you last got laid. Either way, Tengen ended up fucking you clear in the open, right on the couch. Every bit of it was hotter than you’d ever imagined — toe-curling and mind-numbingly good, the orgasm he fucked out of you strong enough to make you tear the glossy page of your text right from its binding as your fingers spasmed beyond your control. 

Maybe it would have been a one-time only sort of thing, or perhaps even the start of a secret, roommates-with-benefits arrangement. But then, Sanemi came home right as Tengen was in the middle of pumping a second load of cum into you, and your secret was out before you’d ever fully had the chance to keep it. You hadn’t seen Sanemi’s face, as yours was pressed into the sofa beneath the mass of Tengen’s palm, but you did hear Tengen’s snarky little what, you want some, too? 

Instead of answering, Sanemi had simply crossed the living room, drawing to a stop right in front of your head, and gently coaxed your face up from its place between the cushions. 

Sanemi’s fingers lingered under your chin, the pad of his thumb thick with calluses. “Well?” 

Call it orgasmic delusion or simple wantoness on your part, but your consent came with a dip of your head, and your lips parting around his thumb. The momoent you flicked your tongue out over his skin, Sanemi snapped, and his cock was down your throat faster than you could blink. 

Kyojuro was the last to join your little arrangement, quite literally stumbling across the sight of you, standing at the stove as you waited for your dinner to heat while Sanemi was on his knees behind you, his face buried in your ass. The sound of Kyojuro’s books hitting the floor as he stared was met only with a casual glance over your shoulder and a smile of greeting, before Sanemi did something downright sinister with his tongue and made your eyes roll into your head. 

Poor, sweet Kyojuro, still couldn’t bring himself to join in, no matter how many times he came across — or outright stared — at the way his two best friends used you so easily. You were kind and sweet, and a good roommate, so he couldn’t imagine debasing you that way, even if that quickly became the only thing he could think about. 

He tried, oh, he tried, to resist. But your dealings with Tengen and Sanemi meant that you wore less and less while at home until you were lounging about in only the thinnest underwear or the shortest little tops — all of which could easily be moved out of the way when the moment called for it. Soon, Kyojuro found himself standing behind you while you did the dishes, his cock in hand as he furiously pumped himself against the curve of your ass. You always stayed in place when you felt his warmth bearing into you from behind, even going so far as to grind against him to help him along. He almost could have been satisfied with just this, until you began moaning for his cum, pushing your hips back almost in demand as you waited to feel him spurt across your skin. That’s when he broke. 

Now, when Kyojuro is stressed — which is more often that you’d thought, to your surprise — you can almost guarantee he’s going to sit you down on the nearest surface and spread you wide.

Of course, it became obvious that all three of the boys were involved with you, and so, a roommate meeting is called. Details need to be hammered out, understandings need to be reached that everything was platonic and no one was at risk of developing any other feelings. Once that’s done, Tengen, always the instigator, is the one to suggest you as the group bonding activity. After all, you have three holes and two hands, he reminds you, slyly. 

They’re fair, of course, so a deal is struck: you in exchange for your share of the rent. An exchange of goods for services, as Tengen had put it. They lived in this apartment on their own before you moved in, so cost isn’t prohibitive. The only bills you have are your own groceries and your personal shit, so really, what do you have to lose? Besides, they’re all hot as hell, and you’re young. Might as well enjoy the ride. 

Sometimes they wait for the first one to finish with you, the other two wait in their rooms, pumping their stiffened cocks to the sounds of your whines and the other’s grunts or moans. Other times, though, one or both will join in, and you find yourself the object of three equally ravenous appetites. 

And, free use really means free use. Scrolling through social media? Fun! But if Tengen sidles up to where you lounge on the couch, his cock hard and balls full, you know to open your mouth. And you’re more than free to keep browsing the web as long as your throat is available. Talking to your mom? No problem; Kyojuro is still lifting up your shirt and taking one of your pretty tits in his mouth. He’ll do his best not to groan and suck at your nipple too loudly, but he only has so much self control. Besides, his hot mouth and devilish tongue are guaranteed to have you desperate to get off the phone before you get off while still on it — especially if his fingers start playing between your thighs. Trying to shave your legs in the shower? Might want to put the razor down, because Sanemi caught one glimpse of your ass in the foggy bathroom mirror and decided it would look better with his cum leaking out of it. Your pussy too, for that matter.

To keep everything within the bounds of fair play, the boys did agree to one rule: once someone comes, they move to sometbing different. That way, no one monopolizes any part of you, and everyone gets a fair shot at cumming where they want. Though, as time goes on, you do learn that they have their preferences. Tengen loves filling up your greedy little cunt with as much as it will take, while Sanemi loves cumming all over your tits or face. Kyojuro had been a bit of a surprise, preferring not your mouth, but your ass to pump his frustrations into.

It helps that the only bottoms you wear when lounging around the apartment is your underwear. That means whoever happens to walk by can simply reach over and tug your panties to the side and sate their need without the fuss of buttons or belts.

That sort of convenience is also the reason you’ve learned to sleep naked. It’s far easier to come out of sleep with their tongue or fingers or cock already inside you than it is to be startled awake by wandering hands trying to find you beneath unnecessary layers in the dark. 

Oh, don’t think being asleep matters, either. Your bedroom is public, as far as anyone is concerned. Besides, you don’t need to be awake to give your boys what they need, and that’s what this is all about, right?

Kyojuro was the first to pierce that veil, pushing into your room well after midnight one night, desperate and aching. Your body was far too pliant in his hands as he pushed your legs out of his way, his cock drawn to your center in the dark like a magnet. You’d woken up just as he fully sheathed himself inside you and widened your thighs to make room for him. 

Of course, Kyojuro didn’t know how to be quiet, which meant the rest of the apartment quickly became privy to his late night activities. Even half-asleep, you’d sensed Tengen and Sanemi watching from your doorway, admiring.

“Atta boy, Kyo,” Tengen claps Kyojuro on his shoulder the moment he finishes moaning out his ecstasy, his limbs shaky and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Got her nice and ready for us.” 

“Us?” You shoot back, your thighs rubbing lazily together as you savor the feeling of Kyojuro’s hot seed leaking out of you.

A hand — Sanemi’s judging by the roughness of skin — hooks around your ankle, tugging you to the edge of your bed before flipping you to your stomach. “You two woke up the whole damn apartment, so you’ve gotta help us get back to sleep.” 

You smother your grin against your blankets. “That was Kyojuro, not me.” 

Across the room, Kyojuro huffs out a half-hearted apology, still panting and breathless. In the dark, you can almost see the sweaty flush that always spreads across his chest after he comes; the glassiness that settles into his eyes once he’s successfully fucked every thought right out of his head and directly into you.

“Not punishment,” Tengen corrects, tapping the bulbous head of his cock against the seam of your lips. “Just a little late-night treat.” 

Humming contentedly, you drag your tongue right across Tengen’s tip, savoring the hitch in his breath. Just as you part your lips to take his shaft into your mouth, you feel your mattress dip as Sanemi’s weight settles in behind you. 

“Fuck you came a lot,” Sanemi groans at Kyojuro, dragging the tip of his length up and down your swollen cente to coat himself. “She likes that, though. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your moan is drowned out by Tengen’s raspy swear, the vibrations of your mouth around his cock forcing his hips to buck, pushing him further down your throat. 

Sanemi chuckles and reaches under you, his fingers circling smoothly over your clit. “She’s good at holdin’ it, too.” He shuffles forward on his knees, his tip aligned at your entrance. “I’ll give you more, sweetness, don’t worry. Let’s see if I can get all of us off together again.” 

Last week, Sanemi had come home to the sight of you on all fours with Tengen halfway down your throat. He hasn’t wasted any time in throwing his books to the side, unbuckling his pants, and wedging himself between your spread thighs, his own cock heavy and hard in his hand. Tengen must’ve warmed you up already, because Sanemi slammed his hips forward with no resistance until he was groin to ass with you. 

You’d been the first to tap out, coming hard on him with a half-moan, half scream muffled by Tengen’s girth. The vibrations had proven to be too much for him, for not half a second later had his eyes rolled back, a strangled whine slicing through ragged pants and the sound of Sanemi’s skin clapping against yours. Tengen final thrust choked off the last of your air supply but before you could pull off him, he’d planted one massive hand right at the back of your skull and held you in place. Of course, the sight of Tengen fucking his cum down your throat and the way you creamed around his dick had Sanemi spilling into you hard and fast not a moment later, nearly going cross eyed in the process.

Now, with a single forward-pitch of his hips, Sanemi sheathes himself inside you with a loud swear. There’s no time for you to adjust; you didn’t need it, not when Kyojuro’s cum is steadily squelching out of you with every sticky thrust. Before long, your toes are curling against your sheets, the blankets fisted in your hands soaked with drool that spilled down your chin while Tengen languidly fucks your mouth, his fingers twisted hard in your hair. 

True to his word, Sanemi gets all three of you off together, though it’s his orgasm that sets off the train of euphoria. He comes with a firm twist of his hips, his fingers digging possessively into the meat on your hips as he holds you flush against his groin. The feeling of his balls pulsing right against your swollen center sets you off next, your thighs trembling almost violently in their effort to keep you from collapsing into your bed. Yet, for all your struggling, Sanemi only cants his hips forward to prolong the length of his release. The force of his movements sends you jolting forward until your nose is buried in the coarse smattering of silver-white hair that covers Tengen’s groin. Predictably, that’s all it takes to send him over the edge, and Tengen spilled down your throat with a cracked Fuck! 

All in all, no place — or surface — in the apartment is off-limits. The kitchen counter, the sofa, the shower, any of their rooms (including yours), the balcony, all of it is fair game when the mood strikes. No matter what you’re doing, no matter what time it is, if someone is hard, they’re coming to you to fix it. 

For instance, there are only two bathrooms in the apartment, and though the boys were considerate in letting you take the bedroom with the private, attached bath, that doesn’t mean your shower isn’t as fair game as the rest of your room. In fact, of the two apartment showers, Sanemi prefers your standing enclosure to the boys’ shared tub.

He’s especially fond of your glass doors, which fogs up easily because that means he could press your body right against it and fuck you senseless, guaranteeing the imprint of your perfect body will be left behind on the shower door even even after his cum runs down your legs and the drain.

By the end of the month, there isn’t a single place in the apartment where you haven’t been thoroughly fucked. That is, at least, until the swing arrives. 

I’m sure I’ll add onto this debauchery. I’ve no shortage of ideas, unfortunately for you all.

LIKES, REBLOGS, COMMENTS APPRECIATED!

[hrrtshape]

things i manifested in paris !!!!!

◞ museums basically empty !!!!! like private viewings. like they cleared the louvre just for me. felt like royalty.

◞ drinking every day. obviously. no notes.

◞ dior café. 16 euros.... didn’t even flinch. didn’t even blink. felt nothing. like, yeah, charge me more. i dare you.

◞ NO LINES. literally just walking in everywhere like i was the mayor of paris or something.

◞ food ????? unreal. every bite was a religious experience. i was actually gasping.

◞ thought i lost my earring and was already mourning it…. got home….. it was under my sweater ?????? felt like i was in a time loop. literally how is that possible?/!?!?!??! it was expensive and swarovski and i swore it was lost in the streets of paris..but no. just kept manifesting that it just fell into my bag..but no..it somehow dropped from my all-around wrapped scarf under my (buttoned to the top) trench-coat.

◞ got new jewellery !!!!! like, just out of nowhere !!!!! the swarovski ariana grande set. meant to be. cosmic alignment.

◞ best margarita of my life. 7 euros. plus two free shots. bartender took one look at me and went, "this girl deserves it." and you know what ? he was right.

◞ I SHIFTED. TWICE. ON THIS TRIP. !!!!!!!! i was out here casually jumping realities between croissants. felt like the main character in an experimental film.

◞ weather ????? literally perfect every single day. like the clouds and the sun were working together just for me. rained during comfortable moments...ugh.

◞ every outfit ate. no misses. people were staring. admiring. whispering. like i was a mysterious european socialite.

◞ found the cuuuuuutest, most burberry-escue burgundy trenchcoat. no notes

◞ my hair ???? perfect. not a single bad hair day. not a single moment of struggle. just effortless beauty.

◞ got the best seat in every restaurant, every café, every bar. prime locations only. always by a window. always vibey.

◞ shopping ???? insane. walked into stores and just found the most perfect things. like they were waiting for me.

◞ make-up was on point. no brush strokes, no harsh lines, no nothing.

◞ my phone battery lasted forever. defied all logic. like my phone just decided it was on my side.

◞ got into every place i wanted to. no rejections. no complications. doors opened. things worked.

◞ my skin ????? glowing. no breakouts. no stress. just clear, angelic radiance.

◞ found money randomly. like, oh, cool, the universe is just giving me spending money now.

◞ had a night where everything felt right. the stars aligned. the city was glowing. no explanation. just pure, unadulterated magic.

◞ packed way too much but somehow my suitcase just made the weight limit. down to the gram.

◞ walked 20k steps a day but my feet ???? did not fall off. sore, but still functioning. still cute.

◞ forgot to check the weather but it just…..worked out ??? no rain when i needed sun, no heatwave when i needed a breeze.

◞ convinced myself i was getting sick at least twice, then woke up the next day perfectly fine. mind over matter.

literally a divine trip. heaven was playing favourites and i was in the list.

[vettelsvee]

Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏

END GAME | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader

SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT

WORD COUNT: 2745

WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."

You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.

You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.

However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.

"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."

You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.

Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.

That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.

"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."

You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.

With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.

As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.

Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.

Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.

You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.

When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.

He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.

"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.

You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"

"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."

"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."

"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"

His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.

For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.

"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.

Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.

"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.

"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what  new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."

"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."

Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.

"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.

"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.

You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.

"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.

"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.

But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.

"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."

"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."

"Lando…"

"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."

His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.

You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.

When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.

"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at  me in the eyes and say it."

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.

Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.

"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.

"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."

He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.

Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.

But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.

"Lando…"

"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."

"It’s just…"

Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.

"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"

Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."

"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"

Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.

"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.

"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."

"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.

"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."

Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.

"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."

"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.

"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"

"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.

"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"

This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.

"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.

"Then prove it."

"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.

"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"

"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 12

Y'all are getting two chapters today because a little silly someone, won't @ because they haven't asked to be tagged in the tag list and Idk if they'd like the call out but they know who they are, liked every chapter and I loved your little comments so I finished chapter 13 so I can post this chapter only fueled by your excitement 🥰🥹

CW: people are getting their ass beat, so mention of blood and decapitation.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 12 >>next(TBC)

With Nolan completely refusing to face anyone lately, and the announcement that the guardians are dead, you had to get away. You couldn’t sit and wait for him, couldn’t cry over the guardians, couldn’t sit by and watch how worried Debbie was every morning when he’d left. You just couldn’t.

So, while Mark went to university with Amber and William, you cashed in your vacation days and let the shadows lead you away over the seas to Romania. Softly landing in the Hoia-Baciu Forest felt—surprisingly—like home.

The whispers of the shadows nudged you around the forest, deeper and deeper, past the oddly shaped trees straight to a burnt circle of land where dried trees grew. Walking past the circle changed the scenery, from gloomy grey trunks to moss-covered, flourishing weeping willows circling a little lake.

Walking back to the edge of the circle, you stuck half of your body out and back observing the change happening right before your eyes. It seemed to be a Midnight City magic dome thing. Inside the dome, it was quite beautiful, the astilbes and the Japanese irises giving some color to the landscape. Your hands softly traced the taller flora as you got closer to the lake, lifting off the ground to move towards the center where a small piece of rock was.

This was a great place for an altar and the shadows greatly approved, too. Sitting on your ass, crisscross apple sauce, you placed your hands on the smooth surface, transfiguring it to expand and even out a bit more.

By the time you were done setting wards so no one could find the place and adding the actual altar and the statues for Lady Gotham and Death it was already so late.

With a small sigh, you place yourself in front of the altar once more. You were never religious, your biological mother didn’t care, Bruce didn’t, the Graysons didn’t- it felt awkward to pray to them. Constantine mentioned that praying to them could just be talking to them, they’re not Yahweh, they’re not Allah, they don’t abide by those rules.

So, you didn’t either. You thanked them for the blessings they gave you, hoped they were well, and told them about your day, leaving them with a bowl of sliced apples and some flowers, deciding to visit the rest of the country while you still had a few days of vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Went to Mars, almost got killed by Martians, got the shit beaten out of me for trying to help the Titan, got half of Teen Team- er… the new Guardians in hospital. Also, his one guy in the college was kidnapping male students he saw as peak alpha males and modifying them to essentially turn them into robocops wannabes consisting of no free will and mech bodies, including William’s boyfriend, for the betterment of the human race.” Marks sighs tiredly. “Amber and I broke up and made up again. Told her I’m Invincible… she knew.”

Debbie just looked at her son, before turning to look at you. Maybe she should stop asking how everyone’s day was. “Don’t look at me like that, ma. For once I had a normal day. Visited a lot of places in Romania after finding a little nook for my altar and got some presents for you two and our friends.” You shrug as you take another bite of food. “How was your day?”

Your mother smiles. Well, maybe she shouldn’t, it was the little normality she had in her life. “Sold a penthouse to a billionaire who had a set of all gold teeth.” You snort at that. “That’s one way to show off.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Since sunrise Mark has been searching for his dad and once he did, he immediately tackled him, rolling through the air for a bit before stopping. “Where have you been?! Why haven’t you said anything?” Nolan didn’t get to respond Mark continued. “Are you cheating on mom? Do you have a second family or something?”

“What?! Of course not! Why would you-“ Nolan stutters at the audacity. “Because one day you just decided to up and disappear! You barely come home anymore- Do you even love us anymore? I need you to think about it before you answer- really consider it, because I want you to mean it truthfully- Do you love us?”

The older Viltrumite couldn’t hide the shock, the anguish as he actually thought about it. Loving them meant going against his mission- to a small degree, sure, he could still finish it- but- “Yes... I-I do. I truly love your mother and you deeply. I love your sister just as much. You three are very important to me.”

“Then stop this- nonsense!” Mark waved his arms around. “You’ve been missing for almost two months, barely come home to sleep- You know how paranoid my sister is, she’s making plans over plans on how to take you down because she thinks you snapped and are trying to conquer the planet.”

“She thinks I plan to conquer Earth?” Nolan asks softly, hands clenching at his side. “Yes! She thinks me and mom don’t know but I found her encrypted files- she thinks now that you know the Viltrumites can create offsprings that have powers with humans, you have started making plans to take over. She thinks you killed the Guardians because they could have slowed you down, maybe even stopped you- she thinks you’ll come to me and ask me to help- that you’ll come clean and confess that the Viltrumites are- are these-“

Mark couldn’t finish… How could he? You didn’t come up with these ideas out of thin air- you had evidence. Circumstantial evidence- but it still was so compelling, too many coincidences to be just nothing. “She made plans that could take me down, too. Just in case I would accept to help you- she’s gone mad, dad. And- and I started to believe it too.”

Mark looks at his father, straight in his eyes. “So I need you to come home, to talk to us- I don’t want to believe it- I don’t want to think that you’d ask me to do such bullshit.” The young man clenched his fist. “Please tell me she’s wrong- because if she isn’t- I won’t help you. I’ll do anything to stop yo-“ Mark didn’t finish as Nolan threw a punch, breaking his mask and making him bite his cheek.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Honestly, Eve, I can’t believe you didn’t dump Rex the first time he cheated.” You sipped on your soft drink as you walked with Eve. “I know- It’s just- we both-“ She tried to come up with a reason, just a tiny one to try and keep her pride. “You both got your powers in a lab- yes. I know. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the respect of a man. And I can’t believe Kat jumped at the first opportunity- is the ‘not your bestie’s ex’ not in the girl rulebook anymore?”

As Eve opened her mouth to respond to that, what came out was a gasp of shock as her eyes caught the fight happening on the news. “What? Are the news more import-“ As you tuned to look behind you at the TVs in the electronics shop your mouth dropped with the drink you were holding.

The flashing pictures of Mark and the Immortal fighting furiously against Nolan make your blood run cold. The robot cameras that were flying around the men managed to pick up some of the conversation, mostly Immortal furiously yelling but- “This isn’t you! You don’t want to do this! You just feel like you have no choice, but you do!” they caught Mark too.

“Is your dad being mind-controlled?” Eve asks, clearly worried as she looks at you. “No…” Is all you say before you disappear with a breeze of air. It wasn’t a good idea to travel via magic right now. Eve caught a glimpse of Omni-man decapitating The Immortal before she changed into her costume and tried to keep up with you.

Somewhere in space, the League of Justice and Laughing Magician could only watch in terror as the news kept up with the man and his son. “Please don’t… Please don’t try and stop him.” John’s whispered payers were met only with Batman’s suspicious glare. “We should go and help!” Superman’s worried pleas was quickly shut down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark couldn’t register everything his father yelled at him as they fought through the air, and he definitely could not after being thrown into the ground and punched twice. But he could answer one question. “You and her… I’d still have you and my sister, dad.” And Nolan hesitated on his third punch. But you didn’t.

Your hit threw Nolan off Mark, making the older man crash into a crater of his own. You didn’t let him get a break. “I trusted you! We all did!” Punch after punch, the ground beneath his head created a bigger and bigger hole. “Mom and Mark love you! I love you! And you go and chose them?!”

You didn’t even notice when John Constantine popped in, almost stumbling through the portal as he ran to your brother, racking his brain for every healing spell he could use. He didn’t care that Bruce would corner him when he went back and interrogate him about this, not when you needed him.

“What is so important about them that we didn’t give you?! You haven’t seen them in years-“ Your yelling cracked as you sobbed, your tears mixing with the blood of the man. Why didn’t he choose you? “Why not us? Why them?! Why are you letting me beat the shit out of you?!” As your hands clenched above your head in a double axe handle motion, ready to turn his face into mush, you’re stopped by your brother’s voice calling your name.

Your fury turns to fear and worry as you look towards him, getting up just to stumble towards him and John. Your tears clouded your vision as you fell to your knees by Mark, gently holding his hand as you inquired about him. “I’m fine- just like, five punches to the head and a throw to the ground.” He croaked out, flinching slightly as his nose set back into place while John continued doing his best to heal the young man.

“In other universes, you either die or get the snot and spline beaten outta ya- this is so much better kid.” Constantine immediately cringes at his words, his eyes meeting yours as he instantly apologizes. “- I should have told you, hen-“

The sound of the sonic boom doesn’t even make you flinch. If Nolan wanted to run away, that was fine by you. “I knew. Nobody is that kind just to help out of the goodness of their hearts.” You said softly, reassuring him with a squeeze of his arm. “I should have done more. Should have told the Guardians or someone about my suspicions, my plans on how to deal with him-”

“You made contingency plans?” At your stutter and confused look, Mark could only laugh, immediately getting what the man meant. The rumors of Batman’s paranoia were true after all. “She even made a few for me in case I accepted.” John huffed in amusement at that. “Well- then we better keep you away from the Bat, he may just adopt you.” Some of the League’s members couldn’t hold in their laughs at the utter disgust your face showed. “With my track record of father figures you better keep the furry as far away from me as possible.” Constantine could hear Hal's laughter from where he sat as she finished speaking.

“We should get going before Cecil shows up.” You sigh while helping Mark get up. “We’re moving again? I just got here…” Eve said as she finally landed, getting Mark’s other side. “You both were hard to find, and I missed everything.”

“No need- I can help with that.” John groans as he gets up, brushing his pants off before he opens a portal to Mark’s home. “Alright, let’s get the lad home.” He lets the kids through first, and before he steps in too, he makes sure to flip off the robot cameras, just for Bruce.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[pricesprincess]

smut mdni | since this won

How far did you let the claws of depravity take hold of you? Sinking sharp in your tender flesh so easily like a pin poking through paper, hooking you on John Price.

You were danging from him like a piece of meat, and he enjoyed every bit, not minding that you're his best friend's daughter. Young and so eager to please him, all doe-eyed and sweet smiles.

All the flirting over the last year when you met him at dinner one summer you came home bubbled over the rim of the forbidden cup you both drank from, the liquid staining you like a deep wine.

You've always been a free spirit, traveling everywhere you could experience life, and after that night, you went back more often, staying on the weekends to hang out with John.

Anytime you were there, you always made time for him first before anything or anyone else, always craving his presence and laughter.

It happened one evening when your dad was called into work right as his friend knocked on the door, ready for steak and beer while watching the glowing screen to forget about the daily grind.

Your dad kissed your forehead, leaving you with John, promising he would return in an hour. Plenty of time for him to devour you whole, sweet, and ripe for the picking, dressed in sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

Playing the host so graciously, you brought him an open beer, handing it to him with a shy smile before settling on the couch next to John. It was hard to ignore his presence, heavy and lingering.

A simple conversation about how your classes were going at the local university led to his hand moving to rest on your knee hearing your breath hitch, his palm was rough against your smooth, soft skin.

So easily, you melted under his touch. John slid his hand up your thigh as he leaned in, making you forget your sentence, causing him to chuckle at your flustered state, wanting him to lean in and kiss you.

"Ah, an eager thing. Aren't we?" He husked, his accent thick like honey settling in your core as you scooted over; your left leg was now thrown over his, gasping and quivering when his finger teased you.

John traced the lace trim of your panties, watching you intently, his blue eyes transfixing you on him. He was so close your breaths were mingling, and all you wanted was for him to slide his fingers inside you, but he was a tease, his touch growing bolder and slow.

You pouted and grasped his living room, guiding his fingers under the fabric of your panties, hearing him grunt low in his throat at how wet you were for him, thick strings of slick coating your pussylips.

Finally, he granted you your wish and kissed you as his middle and ring fingers teased your fluttering entrance, making you whimper against his lips as you bucked your hips with a soft cry.

It had been a hot minute since you'd been with anyone, and your mind was only focused on one thing: an orgasm. You panted, tucking your face in John's neck, inhaling his scent as he finger fucked you nice and slow, feeling you grow wetter, gushing on his palm.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, making you shiver as he slowed the pace. "So wet for me, princess," John murmured, feeling you hump, his fingers whining and feeling flustered.

Everything stilled as your orgasm rose high like a tidal wave before crashing over you. "There we go." John cooed, his thumb circling your clit, making you gasp and jerk your hips tilting your head back.

Ragged gasps heaved your chest while you rode out your high, nuzzling your head against John before kissing him, pecking his lips with a soft giggle as he pulled his fingers from you slowly, making you wince, but it melted into a groan as he sucked you off him.

You moved between John's spread legs with a sly smile as your hands reached for his belt, slowly unbuckling it. "You're going to be the death of me, sweetheart." He watched you with a dark gaze.

His legs spread wider, giving you space to settle between John's thighs, one hand perched on his knee while the other unbuckled his belt slowly, teasing him, but your patience wore thin.

John chuckled as you used both hands to free his cock; fat and weeping, feeling your jaw go slack at the sight. He smelt faintly of sweat, but it was his musk, thick and all man, making you quiver.

Not wasting any more time, you leaned in and kissed the tip as your eyes flickered up to him, opening your mouth to lick a wide stripe down to his shaft, hearing him grunt low in his throat as you unhinged your jaw further, taking him halfway in your mouth.

The living room was thick with anticipation as you slowly bobbed your head, letting spit pool in the corner of your lips, making the blowjob wet and sticky with the spit that bubbled around your mouth.

You pulled away with a thick string of saliva connecting from your lips to the head of John's spit-shined cock, your fingers wrapped around the base of him, slowly jerking him off as you suckled the tip letting his breathy pants spur you on despite the hard floor on your knees.

As you leaned in, the door opened, followed by the heavy stomps of your dad's boots. "I got out earlier!" He called out, coming closer to the living room where everything moved in slow motion as you scrambled to your feet and hurried upstairs, panting hard.

Trying to ignore the ache between your legs, you settled on your bed with a frustrated grunt, hearing John and your father talk, the strain in John's voice was thick and filled with irritation, but he masked it, knowing that tomorrow he would get you one way or another.

[mayajadewrites]

── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader

summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, smut, fluff, yearning ao3 authors note: there are several things in this story that are not canon to the original AOT storyline (like Levi needing a wheelchair) but I will warn you if/when those things come up.

chapter notes: none! finally get some dialogue with these two. let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!

tag list: @ackerboi, @staarflowerr, @midw1nter, @glads-stuff, @nxcxllxsevens, @qrhttp, @deniixlovezelda, @midnightwriter21, @levislegislation, @huriareads, @levikeigosdearest, @nikanaka

preface - chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

Silently, you walk into the tea shop, passing Levi and avoiding his gaze. The shop looks different than before - more decorations, and employees.

"Falco, Captain Levi said that you can't put that tea out yet! It's special -"

"Hush, brats." Levi spoke as he closed the doors. "Gabi, Falco, we have our first customer."

You narrow your eyes at Levi, then looking at the two kids. Well, at least you assume they're kids. They look old enough.

"Welcome to Kuchel's!" The blonde, Falco, says with a welcoming smile. "What kind of tea can I get you? Or coffee?"

"Tea. Just black tea with milk would be great." You fish your wallet out of your purse, pulling out a bill. You feel Levi's hand push your hand with the money down, shaking his head.

"I can't be a customer if I don't buy the tea." You crane your neck slightly, moving your hand away from his. You hand Falco the money, giving him a slight bow and smile before sitting at a table, waiting for the tea.

As always, Levi's footsteps are silent as he sits at your table, dropping down to the chair as he gives you an icy stare.

"Why didn't you want to service me?" He blurted, causing you surprise. He draped his arm over his chair, looking rather relaxed.

"Levi, not here. Please -" You put your hand up, hoping he'll drop it.

He doesn't.

"No, tell me why. Tell me why you wouldn't let me have you for the night."

You furrow your eyebrows, hoping the kids won't hear what he's saying. Your mouth forms into a frown, speaking softer than before.

"I'm not talking about this with you. Since you didn't answer any of my questions, I'm not answering yours." You look up to see Falco walking towards the table, gently setting the cup of tea in front of you.

"Captain Levi said this is your favorite tea, I hope its -"

"Falco. Leave." If looks could kill, Falco would be dead.

As Gabi and Falco go into the back room of the shop, Levi turns his attention back to you. "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

When you finally, finally look into his eyes, up close like this, it takes everything in you not to say fuck it and kiss this man senseless.

"Fine. Me first then." You take a sip of the tea, nodding in approval. "This tea is delicious, by the way."

"I know." He tapped his finger on the table impatiently. "Ask."

With a sigh, you lean back in the chair and cross your arms over your chest, bracing yourself for his answers. "Why didn't you come back for me?"

As if he was expecting that would be the first question, he immediately answered. "It wasn't safe for you to come back with me. They would've forced you to be a scout, and I couldn't have that -"

"So you didn't even bother to check on me? Say hi?"

"One question per turn." He cleared his throat, mirroring your pose and crossing his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you sleep with me that night?"

A sharp breath left your nostrils as you close your eyes briefly. "It didn't feel right to do that. My job... it's not for pleasure. I do it for money, and if I slept with you for money, it would feel wrong."

"So would you sleep with me for free?"

Your eyes dart over to him, a scowl on your lips. "One question per turn."

You adjust yourself in your seat, taking another sip of your tea. "Why didn't you at least check on me, Levi?"

"I did." He said sharply.

"No you didn't. I never saw you. Don't lie to me -"

"I did check on you. How do you think I knew you would work at a brothel?"

You're... dumbfounded. Stunned.

"B-but I didn't see you."

"That was the whole point. If you saw me, I knew I wouldn't be able to say no to you and would have to bring you back with me. And that would be selfish." He adjusted himself in his seat, clearing his throat. "I also had my cadets check on you too. When you kept moving from town to town, it became more difficult to find you."

He... he looked for you? He had his soldiers look for you?

Your hands balled into a fist, your nails digging into your palm as you look at him. "You saw all the shit I had to go through, and you thought that that would be better than being with you?"

"Yes." His icy gray eyes found yours, holding your gaze for longer than you would have hoped. "I was going on missions, possibly not coming back. I would never forgive myself if you got hurt, or if I had to leave you alone... again."

You let out a sigh, un-balling your fists as you take a deep breath. "It was really that bad?"

"I see that we're not doing the one question per turn rule." He rolls his eyes, tapping his index finger on the table. "It was war. Every mission I lost soldiers. I lost my comrades, and my friends."

"You had friends?"

"Shut it." His eyes were half lidded and narrow as he spoke. "I lost most of my squad. I almost died. Hence..." He pointed to his eye, then his hand.

When you looked down at his hand, you saw how cold he looked. His pale skin underneath the bandages, the way his thumb slightly shakes.

You bring your hands to his, taking it gently as you inspect it, your touch so gentle like he was a fragile flower petal. Then you look at his face, the scars that haven't fully healed, but are on their way.

You press the pad of your thumb to the scar, closing your eyes when you make contact with his skin. Almost as if you could feel all the pain he's been through.

He closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath in as you touched his face. As you lean in closer, your eyes flutter open to look at his skin a bit closer.

"Did you ever find love?" You whisper, your hand almost trembling. "In the scouts, did you?"

Levi's eyes softened ever-so-slightly, leaning into your touch before shaking his head. "No time for love in war."

You roll your eyes, moving back slightly as you place your hand back on the table. "So you were just going to sleep with me? Just like that?"

"I've always wanted my first time to be with you."

You freeze. First time?

Your heartbeat quickened as your breathing got slight sporadic, your eyes darting around his face. "There's no way. You didn't -"

"I'm serious." He looked at you, a piece of his hair in front of his eyes as he sighed, rolling his shoulders back. "Not something I'm necessarily proud of, but -"

You look away from him, a frown on your face as a blush graces your cheeks. "I never thought you would want me after what I've done. The men -"

"Hey." He brings his hand to yours, holding it gently to get your attention. "You're no less of a person because of what you do for work."

You gulp, looking in his eyes before nodding slowly, not moving your hand from his. "I've... never made love before."

"Made love? Yes you have. You -"

"No." You immediately shake your head, moving your hand away from his to take another sip of your tea, which is almost cold at this point. "Making love and having sex are different. When I... do my job, I have no emotion. I'm there for a transaction. But making love... well, I've heard its much better. You and your partner are in sync, emotions are involved, and everything is just better."

Levi nods as he listens, mentally taking notes. "So you've never made love."

"Right."

He nods again.

Then, you nod.

As you mimic him, he gives you the slightest smile. You took a mental picture of the view. His blue-gray eyes, the way the corner of his mouth turned up, his bangs in his face.

"I've missed you." You whisper, leaning in slightly closer to him, leaning over the table as you push your tea cup slightly.

His eyes wander over your face, drinking it in as you lean in closer to him. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You have no idea -" He gently pressed his hand to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. You shudder slightly at the contact, not used to being touched with since gentleness.

As you lean in more, feeling like a magnet to him, the door to the shop swings open.

"Captain Levi! I didn't know today was opening day!" A man with a buzzcut pushes his way through the door, raising an eyebrow at your table. "Captain? Who is -"

Levi gently pushes himself away from you, clearing his throat as he stands up. "Connie, has anyone told you you're too damn loud." His back is now to you, almost shielding you from Connie's curious gaze.

Soon, a handful of other people showed up - presumably members of the scouts since they all addressed Levi as Captain Levi.

You heard the names Jean, Armin, Annie and Mikasa. You take one last sip of the tea before bringing the cup to the counter. The group looked at you, then at Levi.

"If you brats know what's good for you you won't ask me any dumb questions." He nodded at you, taking your cup as he looks at you apologetically.

Gabi and Falco come back out, smiling as they talk to the group of scouts. You wave goodbye to them, then giving Levi a timid wave.

When you leave the shop, you turn around once more to take in the view of the shop-front. The people of Marley started to trickle in, all of them excited for this new tea shop, some of them there just to be in the presence of the amazing Captain Levi Ackerman.

In a sea of people, Levi's only looking at you.

[crooked-wasteland]

I've seen your tweet which criticizes the worldbuilding in Helluva Boss and how the Goetias feel like "Hollywood with royal titles" rather than true aristocracy, and I would like you to elaborate on that, if that's OK.

Thank you so much for this ask as I never got to expand on this point at the time. For those not in the know, the user is referencing this exchange on Twitter.

As much as the elites of our world would like to disperse the truth, the reality is that all societies are constructed around power. Who has power, how and why. That is the fundamental basis of every social dynamic from children on a playground to the politicians in our governments. So the very first thing we should even approach in regards to the narrative is how does power work in this universe?

So when I responded to Elcee in the tweet being referenced, I am evaluating power and power structures. Mainly there are two wholly different constructs of power between something like the aristocracy and celebrities.

The closest thing to an aristocracy we have in our modern day are the financial oligarchs of Capitalism. Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, etc. They have control everything from how our political parties engage with us to how we think based on the wealth they were born into. They curate our lives behind the scenes in ways that sound worthy of a tinfoil hat, but isn't a conspiracy. The wealthy were threatened in the 1970s by an educated proletariate. In response to our questioning the Vietnam war, the higher education that was once free or at least extremely affordable suddenly became prohibitively expensive.

So much so that only the financial aristocracy could access it. Whereas working class individuals are forced to jump through hoops and prove themselves suitably subservient to the existing power of the oligarchy in the form of scholarship applications, teacher recommendations and application letters before being granted access. This is not a mistake or how it's always been, this is by design.

Meanwhile, Celebrities are not elites. While we think of celebrities as being overpaid and living in luxury, it only takes a glance over at Chappell Roan to see the difference. When Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk or any large corporate CEO walks the red carpet, they are treated as royalty. When celebrities walk the red carpet, they are commodities.

Celebrity is the modern day face of the American Dream. Gone are the days of a single family home and a white picket fence. The boom of content over art, luxury over practicality, and excess over comfort is directly the result of selling to the world the idea of capitalistic success, which just amounts to perpetuating the system of turning humans into money. And for as much money as these celebrities make, it has been proven over and over again that they are just as susceptible to poverty as any other working class individual.

Celebrities are products we buy, and when we stop buying them, they vanish.

Meanwhile the aristocracy, the financial oligarchy, thrives in obscurity.

The difference in power is about who still has it when we no longer see them. And the more invisible and pervasive it is, the more real it is. However one as an individual thinks about the celebrity class, they are simple a different type of specialized tool to the true power behind the scenes.

With that differential in mind, the Goetia function more like celebrities rather than CEOs, and while Elcee fails to see the bigger picture, that subliminally tells the audience that someone with the title of prince, with armies sworn to his allegiance and infinite cosmic power, is no different than a working class joe.

This isn't intentional propaganda, however. It's not her trying to further the agendas of Jeff Bezos intentionally. Just like my other post covering how Medrano tries to excuse cheating, not realizing the only time one can argue such a blanket concept of forgiveness for such a betrayal can only happen when the option of choice is non-existent (ie Divorce is not on the table for reasons outside of the characters’ choices), this is the danger of not engaging with media with your mind turned on. You will innately, no matter how careful someone tries to be, engage with the material through the eyes of the creator.

Celebrities and average people are the same: commodities in the face of real power. But Medrano cannot tell the difference between someone like Elon Musk and his employees. She sees the aristocracy, the ones who were born into a legacy of wealth, as “hardworking average folks”. And if you aren't thinking, you might find yourself implicitly believing that too. Deeper entrenching the power they have over you as an individual and society as a whole.

How we got to where we are in our real lives is mirrored in the media we consume. And that isn't an accident.

[lumdays]

please notice me, prince!! ♡

au by @alli-ily << i've been meaning to join this au for a little while now hehehe

*click for better quality LMAO,,, sorry i have no idea why it's so fucked up but i did transcript the important stuff down here if you want

sir? dame? siyun (aka azul's worst nightmare)

"though they are very capable, they're quite unpopular with nobles as they tend to disobey even direct orders if they figure that there is a more efficient way to do things. they're also a little too honest for high society's taste."

siyun hails from far away lands, practically another world (hehe nod to them being a yuu). it is known that they have two younger siblings and that their parents are both well but it seems that they are no longer in contact.

...ashengrotto despises them (they give him SO many headaches, FREE HIM 🙏🙏)

some more stuff utc,, ARGHHH I BRAINROT OVER AUS LIKE THIS SO FAST💔💔💔 it's the evil manhwa lover in me

ALRIGHT SOOO.... the reason why i keep mentioning azul is because In My Head (please correct me if i'm wrong/you don't want me making up stuff HELPPP i didn't know what to go off aside that there's a bunch of kingdoms and nobles), he was accused/is suspected of embezzlement and siyun was dispatched to monitor him.

...they might as well be the bane of his existence honestly. embezzlement is likely the one crime he has yet to commit but with a highly competent knight keeping a close eye on him, it's gotten a lot harder for him to do anything that is remotely not outstanding-member-of-society material, which pisses him off to no end (...that's kinda just his own assumptions though LMAO, siyun does NOT care that much about the matters of some rich merchant,, unless someone gets hurt that is).

ANYWAYS. this made me think i should probably write down how they feel about lady ariya and prince shin

starting with lady ariya

siyun truly admires her resolve to clear her family's name. but they also can't help but feel something akin pity for her, the path she chose for herself will be long and arduous, especially alone—very few manage to walk out, head held high and pride intact. still, she seems like a promising young lady and siyun is a hopeful person, "i will assist you should you ever call for me."

prince shin (@liyuviq)

humble beginnings, big responsibilities. it's a bit presumptuous, but siyun sort of relates to the illegitimate prince. perhaps not fully—they never experienced Suddenly Being A Royal and sincerely hoped they never would, even in another universe. however, they can relate to the whiplash, the struggle to cram into a few months—no, weeks—everything the other nobles learned over the years, the stares, the whispers... they remember how it all felt, and when they look at their highness shin, they can only hope that they will rise through it all. "then again, i do know i am not your highness. perhaps you don't feel even a fraction of the dread that filled me back then—i would be very glad if so."

i hope i'm not overstepping 👉👈,, aghh also open for interactions for anyone interested hdhdhhdshd, i haven't checked the tag yet HELP

as for the hypothetical target of their affection,,, i fear it may be butler jade 💀💀........... I'M A SUCKER FOR BUTLER X KNIGHT ARCHETYPE 💔💔💔ALSO I BRAINROT OVER YUNDE 2MUCH💔AH AND quick lore rundown

i imagine their knighthood still stands in another empire—or kingdom,,, sorry my knowledge of the world building here is a little vague HDUAJHF. anyway the point is that they are skilled enough for the royal family themselves to take them under their heavy golden wing—until the ashengrotto accusations and they're given bits and pieces of their freedom back.

I'M REALLY SORRY MOOTS THIS IS JUST ME YAPPING ON AND ON..... but like this au's really sick‼️‼️‼️ tags - @heyhellohihowareyou @elenauaurs @distant-velleity @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @skriblee-ksk @sickle-stick @puowei @jadelover69 @tixdixl @nemisisnemi @angelwishess @theleechyskrunkly @chillygourami @bunniehunn @cheerleaderman UUUH DID I FORGET ANYONE.....

[shaunamilfman]

canine teeth (in the side of my neck)

pairing: Shauna Shipman x f!r Summary: Shauna's chasing you through the woods. note: minors DNI. warnings for blood, biting, also kind of dubcon but (spoiler: discussed, consented to before hand and mentioned in the end.). thank @soffsh2 for this one too ngl.

For a brief moment, as your face slams into the ground and everything goes a little hazy around the edges, you think you might’ve just died. Which is a dumb thought, all in all. As if the universe would let you be that lucky by now. The Wilderness, the mystic force that has seemingly guided your life since your plane crashed down into the shithole, wouldn’t let you do something as simple as black out when it could wring out a few more painful hours from you.

You can feel the blood dripping down your face and pooling into the dirt beneath you, like you’re already being prepared to be their next sacrifice. There’s no time to deal with the mess you’ve made of your face in the fall, not when Shauna was so close behind you. You’re scrambling up to your knees when your legs are pulled out from beneath you by a tight grip on your ankle, and suddenly you’ve got another face full of dirt. There’s a loud grunt of complaint from Shauna as your foot lands hard in her stomach in a futile attempt to get away.

She manages to fumble your ankle just long enough for you to get it free, but she’s scrambling over you to plant her knee squarely in the center of your back. You’ve taken more than your fair share of hits, both in soccer and out in the wilderness, but the feeling of her resting the entirety of her weight on that one spot is enough to make your eyes water with pain. You can’t help the pained groan that leaves your lips, even as your hands start searching for some sort of purchase to get out from underneath her. 

God, you would take anything to get away from her right now. Any of the other girls were better. You would even take Misty over Shauna. The fact that you’ve reached a point in your life when that comparison matters would be sickening if you weren’t so fucking terrified you could hardly think.

Her hands wrap around your arm, pulling it out from under you hard enough that you can already feel the bruise forming. She wrenches your arm back far enough that you could feel that strain of it in your joints. Shauna’s treating you like some kind of ragdoll she could just maneuver wherever she wanted. It’s not like she was wrong. The feeling in your shoulder made you sick, like all it would take is one thoughtless tug to do some real damage to you. Something Shauna was more than capable of, shown time and time again.

She had enough leverage on you that the only thing you could do was scream as her teeth sank into your arm like some kind of feral animal.

There was absolutely no warning, not even the mocking taunts you expected there would be. You didn’t even see it coming until suddenly your arm felt like it was on fire. The pain of it was blinding, enough to make the lingering ache of her knee seem like background noise as every nerve in your body was lit up by the feeling of her teeth latching on like she was trying to see how deep she could go before something gives beneath her.

All you could do was writhe and gasp, biting at your lip hard enough that you felt something tear beneath your teeth in some desperate gesture to keep yourself quiet. The only thing screaming would do was bring more of them toward you, which was the last thing you needed. Then again, maybe cooler heads would prevail, and they'd put you out of your fucking misery instead of eating you alive.

You can’t focus, can’t even think.

It’s strangely quiet between the two of you, nothing but the sounds of leaves and twigs crackling as you struggle beneath her and the frantic wheezes that leave your lips when you can manage to rub enough brain cells together to remember you need to breathe. The pressure of her weight on your back doesn’t help, making each and every breath a struggle to overcome as she presses you into the dirt.

Shauna huffs out an annoyed breath that ghosts hot against your arm as you cry out again, pulling away just enough to clearly hiss “Shut up!” before biting back down. It has the opposite of its intended effect as she bites down somewhere new, sending even sharper waves of pain instead of the duller ache you'd grown used to. It tears a sob out of your throat as you feel her jaw flex, grinding her teeth back and forth like some rabid animal. A sawing motion that makes you feel like she’s trying to tear her way through your skin and start ripping pieces off right there.

She doesn't like that at all, a fact she's not shy of making clear. The words she's speaking are so muffled as they vibrate against your arm that you almost can't make them out as she speaks them, and the panic that revelation causes didn't help correct it. It’s like every part of your body capable of conscious thought has fled and left you to flail around helplessly beneath her.

You can feel her hand sliding up your back, her hand pushing with deliberate force that you can’t even begin to fight against. All you can do is suck in another breath before your face is crushed into the damp earth beneath you. It’s cold, still a little wet from the rain the night before, already sticking to your face and smearing across your skin. The scent of dirt fills your nose; the taste clings to your tongue. That’s all you have: dirt and pain.

Finally, mercifully, you’re able to make out what she was saying.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” Like if she just says it enough, you’ll be forced to listen. If only it were that simple. Then, so quiet that you think you must have imagined it, "Please."

Still, everything that’s happened so far has nothing on the jolt of pure fear that goes through your body as her grip on your head shifts. Just enough for you to feel the way her fingers are wrapped around the hilt of her knife behind your head. Oh, God. You didn’t think it could get worse.

You stiffen as you notice, and she flexes her fingers purposely around the hilt. She wants you to know, doesn’t she? Wants you to feel the way she holds your life in her hand while you're powerless to stop it. Shauna’s just playing with you now, but that could change just as quickly as she wills it to. It’s a threat and a promise.

“Please!” You cry out, so muffled by the dirt in your mouth it comes out as a strangled whimper. You aren’t even sure she could hear you to answer. But Shauna hesitates just for a moment, her breath stuttering and her mouth going slack for a half a second before she’s biting again.

That’s all you need.

“Shauna, please. Please.”

Shauna doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even justify your begging with a response, but what she does do is answer enough. You can feel her shifting on top of you, and at first you think she might just be getting a firmer position to dig her knee further into your spine, taking the last of your breath from your lungs. 

That’s until the first slow roll of her hips as she’s pressed against your side. It’s a lazy, almost mocking grind. Taking her time with you, knowing there’s not anything that could stop her from it. You shudder, a different feeling altogether from the fear that’s been wreaking havoc on you rising up and settling in your stomach.

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to.

You beg just the way she wants.

“Please, please,” you garble around mouthfuls of dirt, tongue covered in grit and blood but too desperate to care as you force the words through chapped lips. “Don’t kill me, Shauna. You don’t want to do that–” 

She bites harder in response, and you cry out, your voice cracking.

Shit.

Shauna does want to do that.

Shauna wrenches your head to the side as she rubs your cheek into the dirt, now wet with your drool as you spit out what you can manage even as the taste of it lingers on your tongue. Your head is turned the other way, so you can’t even see her. Maybe it’s better that way.

“Fuck, Shauna. Jesus,” you hiss.

The pressure of her jaw softens just slightly, not because of anything you could say to convince her otherwise, but because in all your thrashing beneath her she manages to find the angle she needs to draw a whimper from her lips as she slowly moves against your side.

But fucking you means she’s not trying to eat you, right?

“Shauna, God. Don’t stop. Please. I’ll do anything.”

Oh, she liked that last one.

It’s one thing to be at her mercy. Another to feel how much she enjoys it. And she is enjoying it. You can tell with each roll of her hips, so wet you can feel the warmth of it through her sweatpants. With each motion, she becomes more coordinated, more set in her rhythm as quiet noises leave her lips and echo against your arm.

She grinds her teeth at your inaction, digging further into the torn skin of your arm.

“Please, Shauna,” you plead, going tense as the blade of Shauna’s knife presses against your face. It’s cold, so fucking cold that the temperature itself is a shock to your system beyond just the threat that it carries. The blade might as well be frozen for how it feels against your sweat-slickened skin. 

Blood drips onto your skin, and for a moment you think she’s killed you before you realize it was hers. A cut on her hand bleeds freely down the side of your face where she must have nicked herself on the blade during the struggle. “Oh, fuck. Shauna, don’t–”

You sputter as it finds its way down your face to your lips, the copper taste causing you to jerk away and only managing to give yourself a shallow cut across your face for your trouble. You hiss in pain, which draws Shauna’s attention for a moment as her jaw slackens. Concern, amusement–maybe both. But she’s too invested in causing you pain and getting off, not necessarily in that order, to pay it any mind.

“Shauna, Shauna! Please, please. Be careful.”

She can’t pull away, can only push closer.

Shauna’s getting closer. You can tell. The sounds that leave her lips make you ache even as she tries to stop them, the heat of her impossible to ignore. Shauna’s lost herself in the sensation, quiet needy noises spilling against your skin as she starts to get desperate.

“Anything you want, Shauna,” you breathe in a low whisper, feeling the way it makes her hips stutter before pressing harder against you. “You don’t want to kill me, right? Then you could only eat me once.”

It should disgust you that those words are what finally make Shauna come with a pitiful whine, hips moving frantically against you as she chases her high. But she just sounded so good. Her jaw clamps down reflexively, tearing another scream from your lips that goes straight through Shauna as she shudders in response.

Shauna groans, finally letting your arm slip out of her teeth to flop uselessly against the ground. She follows it down, drawing pained whimpers from your mouth as she laps at the edges of the wound with her tongue. It’s somehow more painful than the biting was, the slow drag of the tip of her tongue as she maps the bloodied skin. At least you had grown somewhat numb to the biting.

The gentleness was so much worse, each press of her tongue like she’s mapping you. Then she hums, low and unhurried, and you know that she knows. That she wants it this way.

She’s going to be the death of you one of these days.

And what a way to go.

… 

She rolls you over on your back as she stares down at you, the knife still held loosely in her hand where it rests against your collar before she reluctantly hooks it in the back of her pants. You huff a laugh, reaching up to slap at her shoulder. 

“What the hell?” She questions, glaring down at you as she rolls her shoulder. You roll your eyes. That didn't hurt. 

“You fucking bitch,” you accuse. “Thought you were going to break my arm the way you were bending it.” 

Shauna shrugs, like it was a small price to pay until she catches sight of the glare you're sending her. 

“I'm sorry,” she says wryly. “Is that better?”

You scoff, and Shauna just grins down at you with bloody teeth, which is a look. You hate how much you like it about as much as you hate how Shauna immediately takes notice. She raises your bloody arm to her mouth, slowly running her tongue across the torn skin as you hiss in pain. At least, you think it’s pain.

There’s something about the warm press of her tongue as she reopens the skin again that leaves it up for debate. Especially as she grabs your hand, shifting up on her knees to swing one leg over your hip as she brings your fingers where she wants them.

Again.

[bitchesgetriches]

(tw financial abuse)

Escaping abuse when you're not allowed to have a job-Written by a person who has actually had to figure out a way to leave while being financially abused:

Note: You don't have to do all of these tips. Figure out what works for your situation.

A. I highly recommend looking into jobs with housing included. Websites like coolworks, workaway, WWOOF, etc. Apartments can be really expensive, so this can give you a place to go until you have enough money to rent an apartment. Make sure to check reviews/do your research so you don't get scammed. I highly recommend checking out coolworks at the very least, since you can apply to a lot of the jobs on there with an email and a resume.

Another option (that I haven't tried, but I wanted to share in case it helps) is getting a scholarship and attending a community college with dorms.

B. Get some way of storing money. Reloadable gift cards (they have fees though). Cashapp (yes, it can be used as a bank). One of those banks where you don't need a social security number to open them. An e-bank, if you don't have proof of address. Be aware that they'll likely send a debit card to whatever address you input when you open them.

C. Gift cards are your friend. I know this sounds like a strange tip, but they're very useful. You can sell them, use them for important purchases (like GED tests, food, certificates, or even transport), or transfer the money to yourself. On that note, save any money/gift cards you are given.

There are ways to get free gift cards, so I recommend looking into that.

Note: You can't buy from certain places with gift cards. Try to check if you can use them before inputting the card info, because otherwise the money could be put in 'pending' for who knows how long.

D. Get a second mailing address if possible. UPS, USPS PO Box, a mailing box at your university, etc. They can (sometimes) be used as a mailing address for jobs. PO box prices are different in different places, so check out your options in order to find the least expensive option. There are ways to work around not having a mailing address, tho.

E. Getting money is important. There's a reason it's listed in every single 'escaping abuse' guide.

You may have to be really creative when it comes to getting money-especially since online work can be inconsistent *glares at the transcription company I tried that rarely has work*.

You can transcribe, test websites, sell things (plasma, trash, clothes, photos, etc) proofread, take surveys, play games (there are websites like inbox dollars and freecash where you can get money for this), upload receipts to cashback websites, mystery shop, join focus groups, invest, review books, watch videos, etc. There's a lot of websites online (like makingsenseofcents.com or theworkathomewoman.com) that give various ideas for how to make money. I've even heard of people making money through making memes. Be creative, and look around until you find something that works for you.

Note: Unfortunately, a lot of these things do not pay very well. Sometimes they only pay cents or dollars. The problem is...getting money as a financially abused kid can be very difficult (I would know) and you may have to resort to low-paying work (I had to, unfortunately). You should try to find high paying work, don't get me wrong, and I highly recommend finding a way to make money that actually gives you a decent wage. In the meantime, try to get as much money as you can. Don't do things that require too much time for too little reward. Read the terms and conditions.

Cont: Even a little money can add up. 50 cents a day is 15 dollars a month, 180 dollars a year. 1 dollar a day is 30 a month, 360 a year. 10 dollars a day is 3600 in a year. It may not seem like much, but it is something).

More notes: If you want to transcribe, try looking into less mainstream/famous companies (a lot are not hiring/have very long wait times). I think there's a list of 78 transcription companies somewhere....

E. Make a resume-this will allow you to apply to a lot of jobs on websites like coolworks. I know, this can be very hard when you'e not allowed to have a job, but there are a few options. You can put certificates on them, unpaid work (like a redbubble store or webtoon. Bitchesgetriches has lot of tips on how to reframe this type of stuff), hobbies, etc.

F. Try to find somewhere you can do virtual job interviews (both phone and zoom). Libraries (A lot of them have private study rooms, if you have a library card), Universities, Playgrounds, secluded areas, one-room bathrooms even, etc. Anywhere your parents won't bother you. Be aware that other people may report back to your parents as well.

G. On references: You can say "I don't have references, this is my first job" or contact high school/college professors and ask them to be your reference.

H. If necessary, find a way to have internet independent from your parents. A separate phone plan with hotspots, hotspots (some libraries will give them to you if you have a library card), libraries, universities, malls, coffeeshops, etc.

Hi babies! This is from a baby bitchling who read our guide on how to escape an abusive household before age 18 and say "Hey, I've lived that. Let me add to your advice!" They wanted to remain anonymous, so I told them to write it out in an ask and we'd post it.

We're so grateful to this brave bitchling for sharing their lived experience in order to help others. <3 This is the true spirit of Bitches Get Riches.

Here's our guide for more:

How to Leave Home Before 18

[onlytenkos]

warnings : stalking, smoking, gryffindor!reader, muggle!reader, fem!reader, mention of stealing underwear, mention of violence; wc : 3k

character : mattheo riddle

↬ connecting with new people is always nice, unless that person already knows everything about you before you ever meet.

pls pls feel free to send little drabble asks about him/this au eeee

Fires were never easy to put out, burning hot iridescent light that scorched you with a single touch. That was what you were, a fire. A fire that lit inside of him in unstoppable ways to the point that there was no hope for redemption. That fire would never be able to be put out.  

Snape’s class was full the first time Mattheo saw you. Sitting at a table in the far corner of the classroom, listening to Hermione rant on and on about how Ron refused to help her with library ransacking to look for a specific book she was on the hunt for. He watched as you dramatically consoled her and promised to help look through all the libraries in the world to help her find that specific book and laughed aloud when she would roll her eyes and very seriously say how there was only one library that was of any importance to look through. 

 It was only a glance before Mattheo turned his head back to his respective table and went about listening to his own friends argue and laugh. It was only ever meant to be a glance, but that single glance at you forged a whole new life for him. A dark and malicious path he was now bound to for life. From that single brief look in your direction that day, he seemed to now always see you. In classes, at lunch, when you would sneak out to the kitchens in the middle of the night to find snacks to, in your words, “borrow” before hurriedly making your way back to your dorm. At first he hated it, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why you seemed to be everywhere, seemingly making your presence so known to him, completely driving him mad. You were simply tied to him, not that you or him knew that yet, it was as if it was the universes twisted way of a joke, binding the two of you together with string and rope, hoping for a good show when you two inevitably destroyed the other.  

It seemed the two of you were stuck in a cycle that you didn't even know about, he would watch you from afar and you would go about your day blissfully unaware. Silently he watched you, taking note of all your interests and slowly becoming more and more unsettled by his own behavior.  

Mattheo had a bad habit of watching. It was as if it was his way of protecting himself. Watching his surroundings and the way people acted around him helped him understand how much power he would have over certain situations and people. The people he picked fights with, befriended, sat near, they all had been watched and preyed upon before he made his move.  

He cant remember a time he didn’t do this. It came so naturally; it seemed as though it was second nature to him. But with you, it went levels deeper then just keeping a watchful eye. He needed to know everything. How you thought, how you went about your day, the things you liked and hated, the people you deemed worthy of your time and attention. He couldn’t stand not knowing absolutely everything there was to know.  

You seemed to be one topic of interest that truly intrigued him. He didn’t even really know why, possibly because of how trusting and kind you were? Or how you would never outright be malicious towards him and his friend group even when warranted. 

Sitting in Snapes class for morning potions, he couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from you, grumbling and scowling when Enzo would poke him in attempts to get his attention.  

Handing papers out with the most unsurprising scowl on his face, Snape called out in his usual monotone voice that he would be pairing groups of two together. Theodore let out a groan when Snape mentioned it would be mixed houses, while you scribbled on your notepad, not seeming to be paying any attention. Hermione went on a tiny rant about how stupid of an idea it was. You sigh and give her a look before glancing at Harry and Ron’s table to see them arguing over what quill was the others.  

“Hermione please give it up” you mumble as she gasps, “This is unbelievable! Not only are we going to be forced to work together with them, but someone is definitely going to get in a fight! Merlin knows Ron has been waiting for a chance to get back at Malfoy for what he said the other day.”  

Having heard his name, Ron turned around quickly followed by Harry, and started angrily grumbling. “’Mione's right! That bastard deserves-” Before he could go on a rant Snape hit the back of his head with a newspaper, glared at him when Ron quickly turned around, and walked to the front of the class, quickly shutting the class up with an upset clearing of his throat.  

“If you are all done complaining, I'm going to read out who is with who.” He gave the class one more once over before turning is gaze down to the list in his hands, “Weasley with Malfoy.” It seemed as though Snape had done that on purpose. Lightly laughing into your hand, you turn and glance at the livid expression Malfoy had on his face while Snape read out the other pairs. “Finnigan with Flint.”, “Thomas with Goyle.” He went on until it was only you and Mattheo left. 

“That leaves you with Riddle” Snape said pointing at you before exclaiming to the class that everyone needed to sit with their respective pairs. Harry got paired with Nott, to his dismay. Hermione got paired with a quiet Slytherin girl. Ron and Malfoy were already shoving each other when Snape would turn away, and you turned to start walking over to Mattheo’s table. He was quiet, and he kept an observant eye on you. You chalked it down to him being wary and disliking you for the house and blood differences of you both, but he never seemed exactly hostile towards you. 

“You and your partners will be brewing Felix Felicis, also known as liquid luck. Now, since this is such a challenging potion to make, it will require serious effort and teamwork.” Snape said, not really paying much attention to the class anymore, just walking to his desk and sitting down. “I expect nothing but success.” He said looking at only the Slytherin students, paying no mind at all to the Gryffindor ones.    

Malfoy let out the most dramatic sigh and Ron shot him the nastiest look he could muster while the rest of the class sort of just shared unpleasant looks and decided on acceptance. As you started grabbing your potions book from your bag you could hear Snape already scolding Ron and Malfoy. “Absolute idiots.” Hermione muttered behind you causing you to turn around and laugh. 

Mattheo sat silently watching the interaction before grabbing his own book and flipping to the page titled “Liquid Luck! Read bellow to become the luckiest person you know!”. He didn’t know why they were being allowed to brew such a precarious potion, most cases of people attempting to brew it ended in serious states of injury or bad luck. Turning towards him, you look at what page he was on before quickly turning to it and beginning to read aloud the ingredients.  

“Murtlap tentacles, Lemon, Ashwinder Eggs, Acromantula venom, Amaranth petals, and Belladonna....” Trailing off towards the end, you skimmed over the rest of the page. “This doesn’t look too difficult.” You said, glancing at him to see he was already looking at you with a charming smile. “Ah, you say that now but If I wasn’t here, this potion would’ve kicked your ass.” He said lightly laughing while you faux gasp and whack him with your quill. “Excuse me, but I'll have you know I am a great potions student, I only ever exploded a cauldron once.” You said very matter of fact like while he laughed and muttered a small “sure, sweetheart.” and began writing down the ingredients to grab.  

Walking into the great hall Hermione was boasting to you about how she figured out a new way to create the potion and how her partner wasn’t as bad as she had originally assumed she would be. “-Quite nice really, she even let me borrow her quill when mine broke. Isn’t that quite kind? Especially for a Slytherin!” She smiled and started telling Ron the same she had told you when him and Harry walked up to the both of you. “I hate to be the one to ask but can I borrow your notes?” Harry asked when he got close enough to you, flashing a silly begging face and explaining how Nott and him basically just argued the entire time and both got detention. Laughing you agreed and started digging in your bag when you both sat down at the Gryffindor table. “If I say working with Riddle wasn’t that bad, will I be hexed?” You asked jokingly and handed him the binder with all of your notes. 

“Oh definitely.” Harry said sarcastically, smiling softly and glancing at Rons unimpressed face, listening to Hermione rant. “-It just wasn’t that bad! And- you're not listening to me!” She said grabbing a cloth napkin and whacking him with it as he started curling into his lap in an attempt to protect himself. “I’m sorry!! Merlin, please stop hitting me!”  

Laughing, you avert your eyes from the scene they’re making and look around the great hall, noticing Mattheo sitting at his table with an annoyed look on his face seemingly listening to something Zabini was telling them. You didn’t really know any of them. You’ve had brief encounters with Malfoy and Parkinson but never any that left too much of a bad taste in your mouth.  

Mattheo got up seemingly done with whatever Blaise was saying, and started walking towards the great hall’s doors. You got up as well. Giving a brief goodbye to your friends and making up an excuse as to why you’re leaving in such a hurry, you started walking after him. “Hey!” You called out after him after you both were far enough away from the doors of the great hall and other prying eyes. He turned around and confusion found way on his face for a moment before pulling a beaten-up pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offering one to you.  

“Well would you look at that, what’re you doing walking around the castle, sweetheart?” He asked, lighting the cigarette in his own mouth after you had refused his offer of one. “Came to bug you of course,” You said in a fake serious tone, jumping up onto one of the windowsills in the hallway and looking out the big glass window overlooking the courtyard. “Really?” he jokingly questioned and went to sit beside you, “You know, you’re shit at potions right?” he said, staring out the window before turning and blowing smoke in the opposite direction when a beat of silence went by, “Huh?” You turned, looking at him now, “You confused your left and your right and almost cut your finger off trying to cut the Murtlap tentacles.”  

“i don’t know what you’re talking about Riddle, you must’ve been dreaming” You said dismissively, trying to keep a serious face before turning and looking at him, smiling lightly. “I’ll take your word for it.” He smirked, and laughed when you pulled a beaten up copy of “Dead Poets Society” out of your bag. “I’ve read that one.”

“Never knew you were the type to read, Riddle. You get in fights so much I'm shocked you still have the ability to read.” You joked, causing him to roll his eyes and look over at you. It was beyond odd to him to have someone so willing to talk to him, this comfortably too in opposite houses. Hell, even his own house. Being Voldemort's son didn’t make people any less scared or off put by him.  

Possibly because you didn’t truly know who he was, was why you were so openly kind to him, and having come halfway through fourth year. The few people who walked past the two of you gave dirty or worried looks but didn’t dare say anything, just simply kept walking. He thinks maybe that was when the obsession, the desire for you, truly started. Over time after that meeting, he started to get openly more aggressive for your attention, at least he knew that was what it was, to other’s he just seemed more upset, picking fights with people who’d done nothing wrong just so you could see him bloody and hurt. 

After quidditch matches he would automatically find ways to seem much worse than he was, and playing cool when you would run up to him and worry about him. He adored it. As more time went by the worse he became, going from watching you in classed to sitting outside your window when you would sleep, telling himself he was only making sure you were safe, justifying his actions to no one but himself. 

He knew your schedule by now. By the end of your night, you would always sneak your way down to the kitchen and make food. Walking to the Gryffindor common room was an easy enough task, muttering the password to the fat lady, who was too tired to even look who it was, he opened the portrait and stepped inside. It was always warmer in this common room compared to Slytherin’s. He walked over to where the fireplace was before checking his watch and moving along the side and hiding between the wall and a pillar, waiting for you to come down. You slowly walked down the dormitory stairs down to the main common a few minutes later before grabbing a blanket, wrapping it around yourself, and moving to leave the Gryffindor common room. 

As you walked down the stairs to the kitchens, he stayed in place of the shadows near the pillar of the fireplace and waited. The minutes ticked by before he went up the opposite stairs to the girls’ dormitories. He knew he should've gone back to his own dorm, that it was stupid to go to up to your room this late at night, and that the possibilities of getting caught were higher than he would’ve liked if he was thinking clearly, but he needed to see it. Where you slept, got dressed, and kept everything that was dear to you. 

He wandered around before finding his way to the room he knew was yours. Opening the door as quietly as he could manage, he made his way inside and saw your bed first. Slowly glancing around the room, he noticed pictures that were pinned to the wall near your bed with little thumbtacks, all the books sprawled around your room and a pile of laundry that was near the end of your bed. He felt disgusted with himself when he bent down to grab a pretty lace undergarment and stuffed it in his pocket, but not enough to not grab more of your belongings and pocket those as well.  

He felt strange, as if every time he would see something else that just simply screamed you, he couldn’t breathe. He laid down on your bed, slightly turning his head to smell your pillow and he was gone. Where he went exactly isn’t clear, even to him, but he just seemed to had disappeared for the moments he was breathing in your scent. 

You had no idea what was going on way up in the castle walls where you slept each night, completely unaware as you grabbed cheese from the fridge and conversed with the sweet house elf that ran the kitchens. Her name was Romney, she never had an issue with you coming down so late to sneak food, she enjoyed the company. As the minutes ticked by, you finally bid farewell to her and started making your way quietly back up to the Gryffindor common room. Mattheo knew his time was limited, but he couldn’t for the life of him seem to get up, breathing more and more heavily as he grabbed a polaroid you had sitting on your end table of you at the black lake, smiling and holding up “The Godfather” to show the camera. He felt content for the first time in his life as he looked at that polaroid and laid on your bed. The unhealthy obsession that had started bubbling in his soul the moment he first saw you felt like it was overflowing, gushing about him until all he could think about was how he was going to be the one to make you smile, and laugh, and feel like you've been lit on fire. 

You made your way up the castle stairs, ducking behind corners and quickly casting Lumos spells on and off when the portraits would make movements indicating they were waking up. The time was later than you had expected, having been in the kitchens a lot longer than you originally anticipated. Yawning, you finally made it back to the portrait of the fat lady and entered the Gryffindor common room. Mattheo knew it was time to go. Begrudgingly, he got up off your bed and started straight toward your window, leaving out of it just as you enter the room.

The window was left open and you were left with a sickening feeling like someone was there. 

[darlinluxx]

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

angst

warnings : angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking

summary : even after breaking up, saebyeok can’t let you go and keeps showing up in your life and that includes her showing up at your apartment, drunk late at night

a/n : based off of memories by conan gray

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he rain is a persistant, annoying drone against the cheap windowpane of your apartment. you’d hoped for a quiet night, maybe a film and some leftover food. instead, you’re staring at the chipped paint of your front door like it holds the answers to the universe. you know the sound that’s coming. it’s the uneven, hesitant knock, followed by a muffled, almost pathetic, “it’s me.”

you sigh, a heavy, tired sound that seems to echo the very rhythm of the downpour. you know the ‘me’ is her. Saebyeok, the ghost that haunts the edges of your life, the splinter you can’t quite pull out. you tell yourself, each and every time, that you’ll ignore it, that you’ll let her stand there until the rain soaks through to her bones. you tell yourself you deserve peace, that you moved on, that she needs to, too. you tell yourself a lot of things.

but when the knocking comes again, harder this time, accompanied by a slurred plea, “please, just… let me in.” you find yourself walking to the door regardless. your hand hovers over the doorknob, a battle raging within you. the part of you that still remembers those calloused hands holding yours, the way she used to look down at you like you were the only star in the Seoul skyline, wars against the part that aches with the sting of the breakup.

with a final, defeated sigh, you twist the knob and pull the door open.

there she is. Saebyeok. hair plastered to her forehead, rain dripping down her face like tears. her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, are clouded with alcohol and a raw vulnerability that still manages to punch you in the gut. her clothes are damp and clung to her tall frame, making her seem more fragile than she ever allows herself to be.

“hey.” she mumbles, her voice thick and rough. she sways on her feet, and you reach out instinctively, catching her before she can fall against the doorframe. the familiar scent of cigarettes, her faint cologne, and something vaguely metallic clings to her, making your stomach flip.

“Saebyeok,” you say, your voice soft, despite your resolve. “you’re drunk.” it’s not a question.

she shrugs, a pathetic little movement that makes you want to wrap her in a blanket and chase away all the ghosts that haunt her. “maybe a little.”

she stumbles inside, and you close the door, cutting off the relentless buzz of the rain. you know you shouldn’t have let her in. you know that every time you do this, you’re just delaying the inevitable pain, the inevitable goodbye that you both should have had weeks ago. but right now, you can’t bring yourself to throw her back into the storm.

you lead her to the couch, pushing aside a stack of books you’ve been meaning to return to the library. she collapses onto the cushions, a small groan escaping her lips. you watch her, this woman who was once your everything, now a mess on your couch, and a wave of complicated feelings washes over you. there’s anger, yes, at her inability to let go, at her blatant disregard for your boundaries. but beneath that anger is a familiar ache of tenderness, a desperate longing to take care of her.

“you’re going to catch a cold.” you say, your voice laced with a weariness you can’t quite conceal. you’re reaching for the blanket from the armrest, offering it to her.

she takes it and wraps it around herself. “i miss you.” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rain outside.

the words are simple, yet they land like a punch. you want to tell her to stop, to go home, to leave you alone. you want to scream at her until she finally understands. but instead, you sit down in the chair opposite her, the silence filling your apartment, heavy and charged.

you don’t reply. you can’t. because despite everything, despite the hurt, despite the anger, the exhaustion, you still care for her. and she always has a way of coming back into your life. and maybe, a part of you wants it that way.

[hrrtshape]

i want the tea emmaaa 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

✶ the latest report on my shift to my better cr (aka kind of a socialite dr)

◞ when i shifted : for way longer. way, way longer. i blinked and suddenly i had months’ worth of memories. time is fake, time is a performance, time is a dinner party where i am the guest of honour and also the mysterious figure slipping out the back door. the ratio? unknown. inconceivable. i went to sleep and woke up and lived. isn’t that enough? but the present in my better cr is currently the present in here !

◞ where i shifted : still new york, still my mom’s penthouse, still living in a pinterest board except this time i fully leaned into it. every single aesthetic touch, every candle, every casually draped cashmere throw. curated to perfection. we are talking "architectural digest home tour where the interviewer is quietly weeping over how good my taste is" levels of perfection. the google maps situation remains the same: in this reality, my house is a hotel. fate? simulation glitch? the universe keeping me humble? who knows.

◞ family dynamics : my older brother remains a tech bro of the most devastating calibre. the type who makes a billion-dollar deal on his phone in between espresso shots, then immediately gets distracted by an art heist conspiracy theory and disappears for a week. my younger brother (he's weirdly obsessed with filming cars for instagram) continues to reside with my dad in the west village, and their place is basically a salon for the emotionally sophisticated. like, picture cigars (unlit, for aesthetic), first edition books, and a record player that only plays vinyls of people arguing in french. my dad..... still at sotheby’s, still slightly overwhelmed, still one misplaced signature away from an auction-house disaster. my mom is still an empire-builder, still the queen of sugar-free decadence, still able to make a CEO cry in under five minutes. i am so obsessed with her.

◞ my friends : lily-rose remains my ride-or-die. our friendship has transcended words and become something closer to an art form. we communicate through glances, through impeccably timed laughter, through the shared knowledge that we are always, always the main characters. also, blair waldorf is STILL in my life, and i am STILL not over it. she tolerates me, which is the highest form of affection. the gossip girl universe continues to imprint itself onto my reality, and honestly? i welcome it. @chaaistained you're still the light of my life xxxx

◞ loml, coryo : mhm. mhm. mhm. (pause for applause). not writing how just yet, but let’s just say the universe finally got the memo. cutest cutie ever.

◞ food : the cafes remain exquisite. the hazelnut croissants remain life-altering. i have officially become one with my iced matcha. my bloodstream is no longer soy milk; it is pure, concentrated vibes. best meal.... one night my mum and i booked out an entire restaurant just to have a private dinner and discuss our enemies. just mother-daughter bonding things. le bernardin continues to serve food so good i nearly cried. and, of course, because i went to paris, we gorged on croissants.

◞ outfits : i wake up. my closet, endless. my options, infinite. every single piece of clothing i have ever wanted? there. there were DAYS i changed outfits purely because i could. there were NIGHTS i sat in front of my floor-length mirror, trying on silk dresses and whispering, "what’s the move tonight?" even if there was no move. just the illusion of one.

◞ school : st. lazarus remains the most iconic institution to ever exist. the uniforms are still perfect. the hierarchy is still thrilling. my classes are as follows !!! :

philosophy : my professor has officially lost his grip on reality. i am his nemesis and also his favourite student. i say things just to watch him spiral. it’s a sport. history : the battlefield. coryo is writing my history IA. i am having the time of my life. literature : divine. ethereal. my professor respects me too much. maths : a struggle but at least my notes look nice. but i did script that i atleast understand what's happening.

◞ social scene : parties, parties, PARTIES. penthouses, rooftops, spontaneous trips. people draped over velvet sofas, half-drunk champagne glasses abandoned on marble countertops. whispered secrets. dramatic exits. nights that felt like music videos.

◞ unforgettable moments : celebrated my younger brother’s 15th birthday. f1-themed, obviously, because he’s still in his karting prodigy era. the cake was a racetrack. the vibe was grand prix meets family sitcom. the whole paris trip. somewhere in the mix: a snowstorm, a museum date, a night spent on the roof because the city looked too beautiful to go inside. got recognised at least once in public. tried a new restaurant where the shakshuka made me question my entire existence. there were art gallery openings where the champagne was free-flowing and the conversations were like a linguistic fencing match. sunday brunches that spiraled into entire days out. afternoons spent trying on impractical dresses just to twirl in fitting rooms. soft launches of new perfumes (because every era needs a signature scent).

◞ books i read : ulysses (continued). the secret history ( i read it in my cr...but...c'mon. it was time ). a collection of sapphic poetry that made me feel like i was floating.

◞ the details that made it real : the way my pen scratched against my notebook in class. the exact weight of my chloé tote in my hand. the way my breath fogged up the glass of my balcony doors when i pressed my forehead against them in the early morning. the quiet click of my mum’s marc jacobs' boots on marble floors.

◞ oh !!! and christmas !!! : christmas in my better cr was in lithuania, obviously. flew out on the 23rd, spent it with the extended family. my grandma made dubai chocolate (not that kind of dubai chocolate...she lives in karoliniškės, ok). my makeup artist aunt got me a lip tint, very on brand. my one-year-old cousin nora is in her cherubic era. we were besties for the week. played with her nonstop. got my younger brother every f1 lego car in existence. my mum got me archival miu miu. my great-grandma saw me, got sentimental, cried a little, made me eat an ungodly amount of cepelinai. very lithuanian of her. left early, landed at jfk at a stupid hour. 1 am. coryo was there in sweatpants, threw his car at the curb like he was in some noir film, very dramatic, very romantic. nearly tackled me. i was gone for less than a week but he missed me like it had been years. got me presents too. he is so lovesick it’s almost embarrassing.

that’s it for now, lovies. i have MORE, obviously, but let’s pace ourselves. mwah xxxxxxx

[overnightheartbeats]

She only rolled her eyes at his comment, not even worth addressing. Though, the roll of her eyes also communicated her growing annoyance and anger at his lack of a reaction. On the contrary, he was amused? That didn't make any damn sense.

"I don't need to be queen of the university to tell you that you just don't belong. Honestly if you weren't glued to my roommate, I wouldn't even know of your existence. That's how irrelevant you are." It wasn't intentional, her emphasis on my, but she couldn't help it. "Oh, don't act dumb! You know who I'm talking about. Laurel!" Still, as she spoke, she just sounded like a petulant child who wasn't getting her way. And, that really was her right now. Just a child throwing a tantrum. "Unless you already forgot about her," and that, kind of perked her up. Because, if so, maybe she won't have to do all this. "Maybe because you already got what you wanted from her." Laurel hadn't shared anything with her, but she overheard her gushing to her friend. It didn't take much to guess what had happened between them.

"Oh, you didn't say it," humorless laughter followed, flashes of all her classmates going on and on about him filled her mind. "Just everyone else. Like you're god's gift to this stupid fucking place." Laurel raved about him, so did everyone she met. Jenny was sick of it. She completely ignored his quip about Laurel's free will, instead just shaking her head at him. "You're below so much, you're not even close to us," she scoffed at his words. Did he really have such a naive view, just because he didn't come from money? Such a fairytale notion. It's not like Laurel was high up there, not the way Jennys's family was, but she was distinguished enough, she supposed. "I just care about her! In a way you can't understand. I'm here for the real deal, not some college hook up. You're just messing this whole thing up!" Jealousy was not easy to hide.

Her frown deepened at his refusal, a simple no and it had her riled up. "I don't need to ask you for a favor. Just need to get you out of the way, really." Jenny was just talking out of her anger, and had no concrete ideas as to how any of this would work. But, ideas would come soon enough. "No? You're going to regret saying that to me. I'll make her see, just how much of a wrong choice you are. Not worth more time than she has already given you. She's just dazzled by you now, but all things lose their shine. Sooner or later."

Laurel had just finished drying off her hair when she opened his bathroom door. She almost called out to him to ask about dinner ideas when she overheard muffled voices. It didn't make much sense to her, but as she stepped out of his bathroom, the voice became clearer. Jenny? It was her voice, but the things she was saying just didn't match the person she knew. She was quiet as she stepped closer to him, tapping his shoulder to silently ask what was going on? She had heard enough, however. Eli being the wrong for choice was absolutely ridiculous. But, that wasn't what infuriated her. It was the way she was expressing herself about him, and the fact that Eli wasn't saying anything either.

Laurel turned to look at him, confusion washing over her, before she wiggled in between him and the door. Her hair was still damp and a mess when she faced Jenny. Her features were a blend of annoyance and anger, something her roommate was quick to catch on to, because before Laurel even spoke up, Jenny was stuttering and trying to bring in some context to her earlier hateful words. "I...thought you were spending the long weekend at your dad's," she cleared her throat, trying to think of what else to say. "Well, no it's not what you think. I'm just," a nervous giggle fell from Jenny's lips as she tried bringing that sweet side back to the forefront. Harder than it sounded when the object of her sheer hatred stood right next to her. Damp hair, he was shirtless - it didn't take a genius to deduce. "I just, you know that overprotective friend conversation, I owed him that. It's nothing though." The story she was spinning really would only work if he didn't contradict her. And the chances of that happening were slim.

"Save it Jenny. I heard you and I can't stand here and have you spew all of this about him. He is one hundred times better person than you are, and just— you should go. I won't be back, find yourself a new roommate."

Eli chuckled out of amusement, clearly he wasn't even off put by her lame attempt at an insult. "You'd have bigger problems if you couldn't carry your own trash bags." Not that he truly would help her. He had no business with a bully. If he gave her the inch he was sure she'd barge in and make herself at home in his dorm trying to rip him a new one. But, still eyes were on her as she went on.

Surprised eyebrows knitted together as she told him to get lost. "Who died and made you queen of the university, last I checked I belong here. Just because you don't like doesn't mean you get to tell others if they belong or not. Stuck to her? Now, who do you mean?" At this point he was baiting her, he wanted her to be clear since digging her own grave would be her doing not his.

Eli laughed as he shook his head. "I never said I was all that. I'm just a normal human being minding their business. You're the one trying to disrupt that peace." he sighed and rolled his eyes. "It seems to me that you think I'm forcing her to be here. Laurel has got a choice and her own free will. Just because I didn't come from money doesn't mean I'm below you or her. Why do you care so much though is the question?"

"Hmmm that seems more like I'd be doing you the favor and I'm not in the business of doing that for you. So, no." He tried to be cordial given the many insults she had just given him but it was hard standing there taking it. Half of his head turned to see if Laurel had come out yet but also didn't want her hearing this given how much Jenny was talking out of her ass.

[calebslittlecrow]

Stop chasing your DR, it's not on the run from you. I know it sometimes feels like it, with the universe presenting everything you ever wanted on a silver plate, only to do what feels like snatching it away last moment, laughing at your misery. But it isn't like this, the only one doing the chasing and running is you. Chasing for the next method to try, the next subliminal promising you instant success, the next motivational post to just slightly boost your mood because you got caught in that stupid cycle of trying, feeling like you failed, trying again, scrolling on social media until it sucked out even the last bit of motivation that came from yourself. And now? You're confused about how to do this shit actually and it sucks, I was there too. Sometimes still am, stupidly easy to fall into that slump. Live in the end, you already are in your DR. I know I know, shifters been saying that to no end and you can't hear it anymore. But it works, I swear. Don't let the 3D tell you otherwise, but also don't spend your days facing a wall, ignoring everything because the wall maybe looks a bit like your DR wall. The advice to ignore the 3D doesn't mean to stop living your life, it means no matter what happens here, you keep on holding onto the assumption and believe to be in your DR.

Your 4D is eating pizza for dinner, but broccoli is on your plate? Eat the damn broccoli but persist in getting that fcking pizza and you will, because the 3D has to bend to your will at one point. Same goes for shifting, even if shifting feels a lot more complicated (it isn't, really).

Take a step back, breath and relax, play your favorite game, go out with your friends, just try to find joy in the little things. Once you're relaxed and got your mind free, go back to shifting. Your DR will always be there and you will shift, we've got this, yeah? :) Just keep going for a little bit longer.