#if you have more questions... feel free to ask!

[greatatuintheworldturtle]

"God and I'm supposed to be the evil one?" The villain chuckled to herself, the 3rd margarita at the Islands restaurant they'd settled on causing a wave of giddiness. The situation was absurd from her perspective. Hours ago, she was frantically looking to escape from her latest evil plan blowing up in her face and now her nemesis was tearing into a teriyaki burger with fries and a comically sized glass of Blue Moon discussing a partnership. Out of all her Machiavellian machinations, she never would have expected this outcome in a million simulations.

"Hey if you're asking me to move to the Bay Area to be closer to HQ, I'm gonna need to be able to keep up with the Joneses. I wasn't the one who needed the relocation so bad, remember?", the fallen hero said, wiping teriyaki sauce off chin.

"it's just- that's like 3 times the median salary for most of my henchmen."

"To be fair, I knocked out like every single one of those henchmen the last time I defeated you. It's not like I'm not bringing a lot to the table here", he said, gesturing with a ketchup covered steak fry.

"And I respect that, but I would be a bit more flush with resources to throw around if SOMEONE, and I'm not saying who, hadn't destroyed years of Death Ray R&D, not to mention the millions of dollars of equipment that exploded. See my problem here?" She was trying very hard to hold onto the mask of scientific objectivity that served her well in the mad sciences, but it was hard to keep the bitterness of defeat out of her tone.

"Fair, but we wouldn't be here discussing this in the first place if you had destroyed the world like you planned to. So there's that." The Fallen Hero had mostly finished his plate, sopping up the last of the ketchup with the few remaining fries. "But be that as it may, I'm not switching sides just to be poor for someone else. I'm talking about being a right hand man, a partner, not just some henchman.

The scientist nearly snorted into her French Dip. Was he serious? "Look, don't get me wrong the fact that you can take out an entire facility full of armed guards is impressive, but is it six figures impressive? Really? Hell if I wanted to I could clone you and have a dozen yous running around punching things."

"Alright, first of all, rude. Don't just tell a guy you're thinking of cloning him. That's just bad manners. Second, would these clones of you have valuable Intel regarding the Heroes Council?", he said, washing down the last swig of beer from his plastic stein glass.

It was hard to keep a straight face at that, but she did. She had been caught off guard by this turn of events, and hadn't expected the fallen hero to come at her with all the angles covered. OF COURSE she wanted the intel on her greatest enemies, but she had been hoping to low-ball him and then weasel info out of him for free as soon as he got comfortable. But he was asking for a quarter million per year, full healthcare coverage, including dental and vision, and a 401k pension with matching contributions. Hell, even SHE didn't have a 401k. She'd had to swindle despots and monsters with more money than sense in order to fund her latest projects and she was still grappling with how to tell them that not only had she appropriated the death Ray they'd commissioned, but also was seriously considering hiring the guy who'd blown it all up. It had been an interesting 24 hours, to say the least.

The Fallen hero noticed the mad scientist had paused for a beat too long and waved a hand in her direction. "Doc, you still there? Hello?"

Curses, he noticed my hesitation. No use trying to hide it now. " I can offer you the salary and the healthcare coverage, but the 401k is completely out of the question," she said, matter of factly.

The former hero stuck out his hand to shake. " You put that in writing, we've got ourselves a deal. I got the feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership."

The villain gives their customary “join me and we can be great” speech. The hero accepts.

[gf2bellamy]

Hello, I hope you're having a lovely day. If it's okay, could I please request a Spencer reid x reader where the reader (who is Reid's work colleague) has gos on a date but gets stood up. Spencer happens to be going to the same restaurant and sees that the reader has been stood up to he pretends to be their date, and then the reader and Spencer confess their feelings for each other.

Please of course feel free to ignore, have a lovely day.

stood up — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of being hungry a/n: thank you for your request !! i hope you like this <3 ( i won't lie i giggled and kicked my legs a couple of times while writing this )

You drummed your fingers against the smooth surface of the table, the rhythmic tapping the only thing grounding you as the lump in your throat grew tighter. You blinked rapidly, trying to push back the sting of tears that threatened to spill.

Crying over this wasn’t worth it—you were an FBI agent, for god’s sake. You had seen and dealt with worse. But somehow, sitting here alone, waiting for someone who wasn’t going to show, felt like a different kind of cruelty. 

Your day off was rare, something you didn’t take for granted. You had been looking forward to this—good food, good company.

Instead, you were left picking at the corner of the menu with nothing but a half-full glass of water in front of you. 

A waitress passed by, offering you a small, knowing smile, the kind that made your chest ache even more.

You hated that look—the one that said, Oh, sweetheart, I’ve seen this happen before. You could almost hear her inner monologue: Poor thing, all dressed up, waiting for someone who clearly wasn't about to show up. 

Your stomach growled, reminding you that despite your sour mood, you were still human. You had planned to indulge, to enjoy yourself, but now the thought of eating alone made your appetite vanish. 

The door chimed as someone entered, and you glanced up out of instinct, heart foolishly clinging to hope. But it wasn’t your date. Just another happy couple, the kind of people who didn’t have to wonder if they were worth showing up for. 

Five minutes later, the door opened again, but this time, you didn’t bother looking. You sighed, reaching into your bag to grab your wallet. At the very least, you needed to pay for the water and leave a tip—the waitress had been kind, even though you had done nothing but take up space. 

Then, you heard it. 

A voice—one you knew as well as your own heartbeat. 

“Hey.” 

You froze. 

Slowly, you lifted your head, and there he was. 

Dr. Spencer Reid stood beside your table, his gaze soft, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was intruding or rescuing you from an evening gone wrong. 

“Hi,” you said, your voice small. It felt like the only appropriate response, though you weren’t sure what else to say. 

Spencer hesitated, shifting his weight slightly as he glanced between you and the half-finished glass of water on the table. His eyes flickered to the empty chair across from you, the one that had remained untouched all evening. His fingers curled around the strap of his bag, a telltale sign of nervousness. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

It was a ridiculous question, really. He was a profiler—of course, he could tell you weren’t okay. He had likely picked up on the tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers fidgeted with the napkin on your lap, the disappointment etched in your expression. But still, he asked. 

You exhaled, looking down at the table, at the small water rings left behind by your glass. “Honestly? No.” 

Your voice was quieter now, tinged with frustration and hurt. You swallowed hard before forcing the words out. 

“I got stood up.” 

The moment you said it, you regretted it. Saying it out loud made it feel even more real. More humiliating. 

Spencer’s first thought was How? 

How could anyone stand you up? Someone as incredible as you? His mind immediately went into overdrive, analyzing every possible explanation. Maybe your date had an emergency. Maybe it was a terrible reason—one he wouldn’t accept regardless. But in the end, none of it mattered, because the fact remained: someone had willingly passed up the chance to spend time with you. 

And that was incomprehensible to him. 

If it were him? He would have been here fifteen minutes early. He would have memorized the menu ahead of time, making sure to pick something he thought you’d like so he could suggest it in conversation. He would have done everything in his power to make sure you knew, without a doubt, that he wanted to be here. 

But it wasn’t him. 

And as he stood there, trying to suppress the irrational wave of frustration at a person he didn’t even know, you were thinking something else entirely—how mortifying this was. 

It was bad enough to be stood up. But to be seen by him—the one person you had been trying so hard to get out of your head? That was almost unbearable. 

You had told yourself that going on a date would be good for you, that it would help get your mind off of him. The wonderful, brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, who you worked beside every day, who you admired more than you cared to admit. 

And yet, here he was. 

Seeing you at your lowest. 

“You…” Spencer started, then hesitated. He cleared his throat before trying again. “You don’t deserve that.” 

The sheer sincerity in his voice made you look up at him, surprised. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed together like he was trying to find the right words but couldn’t quite grasp them. 

You forced out a weak chuckle. “Well, apparently my date thought otherwise.” 

“It's still wrong.” 

His voice was firm this time, leaving no room for argument. 

Your heart stumbled over itself at the conviction in his tone. 

Spencer shifted again, glancing at the chair across from you before meeting your eyes. “Can I… sit?” 

Your breath caught for a split second. 

“Yeah,” you said softly, nodding. 

He pulled the chair out and sat down, setting his bag on the floor beside him. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, more tentative this time. 

“Have you eaten yet?” Spencer asked, even though he already knew the answer. 

You shook your head, still feeling a little awkward about the whole situation. 

“Do you want to order something?” he asked shyly, his fingers toying with the edge of the menu. “They have this great pasta dish here.” He opened the menu and turned it toward you, pointing at one of the options. 

You glanced at the menu, then back at him. “You’ve been here before?” 

Spencer gave a small, embarrassed smile. “I, uh… yeah. I like coming here from time to time,” he admitted, his voice soft. “It’s close by, and they have good food.” He looked back down at the menu, as if trying to downplay the fact that he had just revealed something personal. 

You found yourself smiling, the initial embarrassment of him seeing you alone fading into something warmer. It was such a Spencer thing—to have a go-to spot, a little place he frequented in the city’s chaos. 

Before you could say anything else, the waitress returned, her expression noticeably brighter now that you were no longer sitting alone. 

“Can I take your order?” she asked, her eyes flickering between the two of you. 

Spencer hesitated, waiting for you to speak first. He wasn’t going to order if you weren’t. 

“I’d like this pasta dish,” you said, pointing at the menu. 

From the corner of your eye, you caught the way Spencer’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile—like he was pleased with your choice. 

“I’ll take the same thing, thank you.” he said. 

The waitress jotted it down, then collected the menus. Just before turning to leave, she shot Spencer a look. 

“You shouldn’t make people wait like that,” she said before disappearing into the kitchen. 

Your eyes widened slightly, and Spencer’s brows furrowed in confusion before realization dawned on him. 

“Oh—no, I wasn’t—” he started, turning to you quickly, his expression flustered. “She thinks I was the one who stood you up.” 

You laughed—really laughed—for the first time that night. The sound was warm, genuine, and it made Spencer smile almost instinctively. He didn’t even realize he was doing it; it was just a reflex, like hearing something familiar and comforting. 

You glanced at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. He didn’t have to do this—he didn’t have to walk in, sit with you, turn what had been an awful night into something… bearable. Maybe even good. 

“Thank you,” you said softly, tapping your fingers against the table in a nervous rhythm. “You know… for sitting with me.” 

Spencer’s gaze was already on you, observing you in that way only he could—like he was memorizing every detail. You met his eyes, feeling a little shy under the weight of his attention. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said simply. “I like spending time with you.” 

The words landed somewhere deep in your chest, pushing past the leftover humiliation of being stood up and settling into something warmer, something that made your breath catch. 

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Because you liked spending time with him too. More than you probably should. 

Before you could respond, the waitress returned, placing your plates in front of you with a satisfied nod. “Enjoy,” she said before heading off to another table. 

Spencer adjusted his napkin, giving you a small, expectant look. “You know,” he said, “statistically speaking about 20% of first dates end in one person being stood up.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

He hesitated, then winced slightly. “I… thought it might?” 

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Spencer, you really have a way with words.” 

Spencer grinned, nudging his plate slightly closer. “Maybe, but… if you think about it, those statistics also mean that 80% of the time, the date actually happens. So, technically, the odds are in your favor for the future.” 

You hummed thoughtfully. “That’s if I decide to go on another date.” 

Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second before composing himself. “You might,” he said carefully. “If the right person asked.” 

Something about the way he said it made your pulse quicken. 

You glanced up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “You’re not trying to set me up with someone, are you?” 

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it, looking slightly flustered. “No! No, I— I wouldn’t, um…” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I just meant… someone better will ask. Someone who won’t stand you up.” 

“Is this your way of asking me on a date, Dr. Reid?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you looked at him. 

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he seemed completely thrown off. His fingers twitched near his napkin, and he suddenly found the salt shaker incredibly interesting. “I mean—uhm—I…” He trailed off, clearing his throat as he stared anywhere but at you. 

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh. Watching Spencer Reid—genius, profiler, and one of the most brilliant minds you knew—struggle to form a coherent sentence was both endearing and adorable. 

Then, after a long pause, he finally looked up at you, his nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“…Aren’t we kind of on a date right now?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

The biggest grin formed on your face, one you couldn’t hide even if you tried. 

“I guess so,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked down at your plate, suddenly feeling shy. 

The butterflies in your stomach screamed, your nerves a tangled mess of excitement and disbelief. 

A pause. Then, he shifted in his seat, his fingers pressing together as if debating whether or not to say what was on his mind. 

Finally, he did. 

“I… I like you,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “I have for a while.” 

Your breath hitched. 

You had spent so much time trying to push your feelings for him away, convincing yourself they were one-sided. But now, hearing the words from his mouth—it was almost overwhelming. 

“You do?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering between yours, searching for any sign that he had made a mistake. “I do.” He let out a small breath, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “I think I’ve liked you from the moment we met. I just… never thought you’d feel the same.” 

You could’ve laughed at how ridiculous that sounded, at how blind he had been. 

Instead, you reached across the table, hesitantly resting your hand over his. His fingers tensed for a brief second before relaxing under your touch. 

“Spencer,” you murmured, looking at him with nothing but affection, “I’ve liked you for a long time, too.” 

His lips parted slightly, as if the words had momentarily stunned him. Then, a breathy chuckle left him, one of pure, unfiltered relief. “You have?” 

You squeezed his hand gently. “I have.” 

Spencer licked his lips, nodding to himself as if processing everything before smiling—really smiling. “Well, that’s… that’s good.” 

You laughed softly, squeezing his hand once more before pulling back, the warmth still lingering between you. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, picking up your fork at last. “It really is.” 

And just like that, the night that had started as a disaster became something else entirely—something perfect. 

[shysuccubusstuff]

L&DS LI are for those that... pt. 1

Content: Reasons why some people may find themselves feeling more attracted for some of the LI ♡. Gender neutral reader! + Non proof-reader + SFW content

Possible TW: Mention of unsafe child bringing + yelling + parents issues +

Note: My brain has been so lazy lately... So sorry for not posting! Together with the fact that my tumblr page has been acting a lil weird is just so---. I hope that everyone who reads this is having a good day!! This is actually my first time writing about Rafayel!

Question: Who is your favourite LI in L&DS? Mine are probably Sylus, Zayne, and Caleb (in that order). Something interest abt this is that my first LI was Xavier!

Xavier:

Xavier is for those that need someone that loves taking life slowly. The ones that have that feeling that they have been running their whole life's, always having that fear of loosing to someone they don't even know.

Xavier is for those that have quality time as love language. The ones that enjoy spending time with their significant other. It doesn't matter if they are making a trip to some lost place or if they are laying in bed together, the fact that they can spend the whole day together is more than enough to keep them shining the whole day.

Xavier is for those who prefer a calm yet confident lover. The ones that love someone who is able to remain calm even when they can clearly see someone trying to hit on their lover. Still, as soon as it's just the two of you, rest asure that he will make sure to show you just how much he loves and wants you, leaving trails of his kisses all over your neck, not one spot free from his lips.

Xavier is for those that long for an everlasting love, the one that grows over time. The type of love that goes beyond the boundaries of life and death, the one that all those novels talk about. One that allows the other to simply know who their lover is regardless of your physical appeareance. I mean, how could he simply ignore those small gestures? From the way that you smiled, those sweet wrinkles appearing in your eyes as he made a silly joke, to that loving gaze you gave him while the two of you were cooking together, your arms wrapping around him as you tried to avoid him from burning the little pastry. He is aware that the one he met and the one he knows now are not the same person, he knows it, he isn't the naïve prince from centuries ago that decided to run away as an attempt to save you. So he makes his decision, choosing this time to stick close to you, his sword always following yours as if the two of you had been fighting your whole life, protecting you from each wanderer, while reassuring you and your abilities, as he is aware of just how strong you truly are.

Zayne:

Zayne is for those that love being taken care of. The ones that have spent all their life feeling as if everyone is relying on them. It's not something just about being the oldest sibling, but always having to be the bigger person. The one friend that is always taking care of the other friends, never being asked how they feel or what they want.

Zayne is for those that love a gentle lover. The ones that have grown up in an unsafe environment. The ones that were constantly being yelled at or insulted. Zayne is for those that need a gentle love, someone who will never raise his tone, his voice always soft even when you keep testing his patience.

Zayne is for those who yearn for physical affection. The ones that have always been too scared of asking for it, the ones that get uncomfortable with the feeling of being close to someone. You have always been afraid of it, fear of them rejecting it, so you have grown accustomed to it, hugging your soft plushies as you dream about having a someone to hug and be hugged by.

Zayne is for those who always fall in love with the socially awkward men, the ones that aren't even aware of the way their frowns are always furrowed. The ones that love seeing a more than capable men become a mess because of love, those that keep their exterior face completely frozen, yet their mind is rushing, heart beating as fast as if they were running away from a wild animal. The ones that begin to feel their face heat up as they keep noticing the presence of their loved ones, his pupils expanding as they lock eyes with you.

Rafayel:

Rafayel is for those who have a fear of abandonment. The ones that have that constant feeling that the people they love are actually tired of them. Rafayel is for those that have grown always feeling as if they are the black sheep, the ones that were always the friend that had to walk behind the rest. Rafayel, who makes sure to let you know just how much you are loved, sending messages constantly, calling you everytime you let him know that you're free. Rafayel, who sends pictures of every little thing that reminds him of you.

Rafayel is for those that always feel kind of pessimistic. The ones that need someone that reminds them that the world didn't stop when they failed on that something that they were supposed to be the best at. The ones that yearn for that feeling of hopefulness, the ones that love being reassured that nothing will happen if they take a small break, letting them rest during a whole day after working so hard during the week.

Rafayel is for those who never got to really act like a children. The ones that were forced to grow up, pushed by the different circumstances that made them realise just how harsh the real world is. This is exactly why you need someone like Rafayel, someone who is able to bring that inner child, making you laugh from the top of your lungs while you chase around him as if the two of you were still children. He is the kind of man that may get on your nerves at first, always joking around while you treat everything as a matter of life and death, but this same attitude allows you to relax, becoming more and more playful as the time that the two of you spent together increased.

Rafayel is for those that dream about a love that gives just the same as you. Rafayel is for the ones that have always felt like they get the short end of the stick, the ones that always love too much and too hard, the ones that don't mind hurting themselves as long as the other person doesn't feel hurt. Rafayel is for those that seek for someone that is ready to give them everything they have just as they would do. He is for those that have always looked for someone that will accept them as a whole, not just the soft and funny part, but also the part that they have been trying so hard to hide, the one that is so scared of being abandoned after giving everything to their loved one.

[samiwok]

/2025.SAMIWOK/

{ NSFW } — A Valentine’s day gift,

pairing : Rafayel x fem!reader

summary : it’s Valentine’s Day and Rafayel invites you to spend it with him at his place. the night goes pretty well and it ends up just the way you expected.

content : 6k words. chocolate aphrodisiacs ?? ; use of handcuffs ; oral sex : reader receiving ; soft sex ; Rafayel teases a lot

note : the explicit smut part isn’t that long it’s mostly the tensed atmosphere before that is well written but i’m planning on improving about that. anyway. that’s the first lads fic but there’ll be more heh

“Valentine’s Day is a stupid and commercialized holiday.” Those were your own words for many years.

You’re a grown adult and you still see Valentine's day as a scam; something made up completely by a capitalist society forcing people to spend money. Because truly.. who wouldn’t want to see their loved ones smile ? Of course you still think that it is the reality behind that holiday.

Yet it’s different this year.

Because this year you have him. Him, who texts you daily to check on you. Him, who stares at you like you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Him, who makes you feel loved simply by smiling back at you.

So yeah.. Valentine’s Day is stupid. Stupid and made up to have stupid people spending their stupid money on stupid things to give to their lovers. Stupid holiday. Yet you crave to spend it with him. You crave his gifts, his touch.. well, his attention.

You’re still in the street, walking home from today’s assigned missions. Your eyes wander around the city. Couples.. Families.. And in the middle of that, single souls, wandering around the streets, looking lonely just like you.

Lonely… Yeah, perhaps you should try and call…

Oh ?

You take your phone out of your pocket and see the familiar face of the one you think about a little too much these days. “Incoming call : Annoying fishie…<3”

You smile at the only presence of his name on your screen, because the truth is he’s got you wrapped around his fingers. So much so that you’re smiling at your phone in the middle of the street, excited to hear his voice before you even pick up the call. You cough slightly before you do. After all, you wouldn’t want to give him the confidence he needs to tease you.

“Hello ?” You reply, quite calmly and your voice almost sounds a little cold.

“Hmph. Finally ! I thought you’d never pick up the call.” And there he goes, complaining not even five seconds into the call. You sigh longly. He’s always so dramatic.. and for what ? That man is 24 after all and still pouting like a little boy whose mother refuses a toy. Ridiculous. But even that part of him makes him lovable to you.

“Don’t even start-“ You reply and he interrupts with a soft laugh that warms your heart. You instinctively smile because you can picture his lips curling up as he laughs and his eyes matching the playful tone of his voice as he speaks.

“Is my Miss bodyguard free tonight, by any chance ?” He asks so politely. Usually, he would tell you to join him wherever he wants to see you. Who would’ve imagined him being so sweet as he suggests a plan to you.

You take a look at your watch quickly and it displays 5:21 pm. It is not late. Your plans for tonight were mostly about heading home, showering, eating dinner and sleeping. You worked today and you have to go back to work tomorrow. Yeah… Stupid holiday which doesn't even allow a resting day.

“My weeks are only filled with meetings with colleagues and wanderers.” You reply right away, complaining a bit about how tired you feel. The question was not about it, yet Rafayel still replies to you with worry and encouraging words.

On the other end of the line, he’s looking around the garden. It is empty; just the way he feels when you’re not by his side. He respects your job, knows it’s hard and doesn’t want to be a bother yet he’d be ready to beg for you to come see him everyday.

“Need a massage, cutie ?” He asks and you can almost picture that annoying smirk on his lips from here.

Of course he was going to flirt with you. There is no way he calls you and doesn’t try his tricks on you. Because he loves the way you always let out a little blank before you reply, as if thinking hard about a perfect answer.

“…How much will it cost ?” You hear a slight humming sound as you reply. It’s not the first time you flirt back, but it always feels so surprising for him.

He chuckles and his breath on the speaker almost tickles your ear with its sweetness. “We’ll figure something out.” He replies and the sound of his voice drives you crazy. His low voice is so unusual it strikes a special feeling inside of you.

You want him. Oh God you do.

There is a brief silence, quickly interrupted by Rafayel. “7pm at my place ?” he asks. You ponder for a while and agree. If this is going to be the first Valentine’s day you spend with him, you might as well make it unforgettable for both of you, right ?

There’s a few more brief exchanges and you hang up the phone the minute you step through the door to your apartment. You head towards the living-room and lay on the sofa.

Tired… You think as you close your eyes for a few seconds. You were gonna prepare of course, but a small nap never killed anyone.

You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling that is only lightened up by the colored lights of the bar that’s on the other side of the road, right in front of the building you live in. It goes from a flashy purple to various shades of pink before it turns to a light blue. It goes in a loop and it reminds you of Rafayel’s color palette.

You smile at the thought of him. Again. Oh how desperate you look like when your brain replays hundreds of memories of his pretty eyes devouring you alive.

You grab your phone that’s vibrating right next to your ear in a quite annoying way and hold it up pretty close to your face as you’re still laying down.

You open Rafayel’s message and your cheeks get slightly red. “do you like surprises, miss bodyguard ?” he asks and his message is joined with a picture of half of his naked chest and his hand holding out a pair of handcuffs.

You never tried this before yet the photo instantly turns you on. Perhaps it’s because you know it’s him holding them out that you want them on your wrists so bad.

You gulp before responding almost immediately. “Want me to tie you down to the bed ?” You tease and surprisingly he instantly responds “…who knows. im eager to see you try” punctuated with playful emotes.

Of course he was gonna text this. That man just has a way of driving you crazy that is incredibly strong and even though you’re used to it by now, he somehow still manages to get you giggling every single time.

You take a quick shower, not wanting to be late for your date with your very first Valentine. And because your hair today is especially beautiful, you decide not to wash it to be the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. When you get out of the shower and head over to your bedroom, the clock displays 6:02. You’re right on time to make yourself pretty with a bit of makeup and the stunning clothes you have in mind.

That man deserves it, with the way he makes you feel : loved and safe; Respected and interesting. You take a good look at yourself in the mirror and you feel so beautiful you would almost want to kiss yourself.

Perfect. You grab your phone and quickly type a message before going out of the building.

“Will be there in 20.”

As you head to his place, the night is slowly falling. You look around and realize the streets are empty. The ocean is pretty agitated tonight and the warmth in the air surrounding you is a sign of a storm incoming.

You’re not really fond of huge storms, at least not at Rafayel’s place since he lives so close to the ocean. Your eyes are fixed on the horizon and before you even realize it, you’re right in front of his place. It’s a pretty immense ground, definitely way too big for a single person.

Rafayel likes his loneliness but what he craves even more is your presence by his side. Therefore, he walks towards the door the second he realizes you’re here.

You push open the front gate. The lights are on all along the way towards his house. And as you walk up the stairs, he opens the door, slowly leaning against it. He wears his usual white shirt and fancy black pants tonight. He looks good, stunning even, as always; yet you have to admit you feel a bit… disappointed, maybe ? After all, you put on a fancy dress, and high heels for the night. It was not the most comfortable but you felt it was needed to appear perfect for him. Meanwhile, he’s standing there, looking perfect with little to no effort.

“My miss bodyguard made herself extremely pretty.” He points out the obvious. You do look perfect. Your hair is soft and placed perfectly well. You wear a long red velvet dress he has never seen before and it matches the lipstick you chose earlier. Your eyes stare at him in a way that’s making him forget about everything that isn’t you.

Rafayel stares at you in awe and he cannot take his eyes off. You’re beautiful. Always. And when you look like that, you are like a muse to him, his source of inspiration. He wishes his brain could photograph you under the moonlight so he could always wake up with that image of you as you walk up towards him for the whole night.

The whole night.

A whole night to yourselves.

It almost sounds like a dream, yet, when his hand grabs yours and his thumb rubs the palm of your hand, you realize it’s real. All of it. From his soft gaze to his gentle touch to the intoxicating scent of his perfume that’s making you crazy about him. It is definitely real. He is here with you.

It’s the lovers holiday and he decided to spend it with you.

“Are you cold, cutie ?” He asks and he’s ready to go running, and get one of his numerous cardigans to put on your shoulders to protect you from the soft breeze because nothing could ever be allowed to hurt his beloved.

You shake your head. “No. It’s quite warm, actually.” You add, and just when you try avoiding his gaze he flashes you a smile. “Come with me, then.” You walk into this big house of his and even though you’ve come here multiple times before you never get used to how luxurious it seems.

The hall of the house is decorated with glorious statues and large, beautiful paintings made by Rafayel himself. You stare around as if discovering a whole new world and quickly reach the garden. As you set your feet on the wooden patio you realize he’s been preparing a big surprise for you.

There are flowers. Lots of them. Bouquets, all as beautiful as the others. There’s food all over the table, and it’s literally everything you adore. The music playing in the background is from the playlist you once made for him. You gulp, and turn to him, a bit emotional about all of this.

“My God, Rafayel. You didn’t have to do all that.” You don’t even find the right words at this point and maybe you sound a bit ungrateful right now but he knows you well enough to know this actually pleases you, so much that you struggle expressing your genuine feelings.

“Indeed. I didn’t have to.” He repeats, a bit sassy as he approaches you, pulling on your hand until he feels your body pressed against his and he can whisper against your ear. “My Miss Bodyguard works hard daily to protect me, I must repay her the right way.”

You run a hand through his hair and stare at him for a few seconds, eyes intensely screaming how hard you want him and he gets it immediately. His lips crash into yours, capturing your mouth for a passionate kiss and it almost feels like you have not met for years with how hard you’re both clinging to each other.

You pull his hair gently and he almost moans into the kiss. The kiss feels like it’s never-ending and it takes all of his energy to pull away from you.

He takes a step back, catching his breath and without any surprise : he jokes again.

“Let’s not eat dessert yet, mhm ?” He says as he points to the table and all of the delicious food he’s prepared before you come.

Your thumb brushes against your lips as you follow him to a new topic after that steamy kiss you just shared. “Did Thomas help you do this ?” You ask, a bit curious as to how he managed to do this in only a few hours.

Rafayel pouts slightly, his arms crossed as he turns his back on you, “Hmph. I can do things on my own, you know.”

You smile and walk towards him. His back is still turned on you. You wrap an arm around his neck, kissing his cheek softly, your hand caressing his jawline until it reaches his chin, locking it between your fingers and forcing him to look at you.

“Rafayel ?” You say. You raise an eyebrow, a bit suspicious. Your voice is low, almost menacing and his eyes look away from yours, capitulating. “Fiiiine.” he says, still pouting slightly “He helped me a bit.”

“You little liar !” You accuse him but his angel eyes make you forget about it pretty quickly. They’re screaming his innocence despite him the fact he just admitted trying to hide Thoma’s help in his surprise.. “I technically did not lie.” And you shake your head, brushing it off.

As you take a step back, pulling away from him, you cross your arms against your chest in an elegant way. Your eyes are almost challenging him to do something, and he clears his throat quietly.

Rafayel smiles and pulls your hand once again, making you follow him towards the sofa near the table. He remains standing for a few seconds, his eyes hypnotized by the attractive sight of your low-cut neckline given by the angle.

It’s only when you move your head and call out his name once again tonight that he snaps out of his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, yeah” he quickly says, his head shaking as if it helped chase the dirty thoughts away.

The music changes to the next track, and it’s a much calmer one. The instruments used in that one have the power to change your mood right away and when your eyes meet his, you know your minds are connected. You think alike a lot of times, and now is no exception.

He wants you.

His eyes are filled with lust and he’s practically taking off your clothes with them. His Adam’s apple moves as he tries gulping his desires away discreetly; and fails. His head rests against one of his hands, his index finger tapping regularly against his temples as if he was waiting for something. A sign maybe ? Your consent to him touching you.

You want him.

You blink several times as if it would be enough to hide the perversion of the numerous secret thoughts reflecting in your eyes. Your legs are crossed and subconsciously rubbing against one another, desperately seeking some sort of pleasure. And your breathing… It betrays your needs.

“A glass of wine ?” Rafayel is the first to break the silence between you two. And thank God he does, otherwise you wouldn’t have lasted much longer before jumping on his lap and ripping both your clothes off.

You nod. You don’t drink so much wine, and aren’t into it either but you’ll take anything he’ll give you. Also the kiss you shared just before and the tense atmosphere that seem to surround the two of you does not give you a good reason to turn down his offer. You’re thirsty and it’s not wine nor water that is going to slow it down.

He hands out your glass to you and then his. “Cheers.” He says with a pretty smile matching the softness in his eyes as you stare into them before clinking softly your glass against his.

“Cheers.” You respond and your eyes never once leave his face as you take a first sip of the drink. It’s good. Really good. It’s probably the best wine you’ve ever tasted. At least, the only wine that is not making your face contort in disgust as if being inflicted the worst sufferings in the world.

You put the glass down and smirk at him.

“Shall we play a questions game ?”

You feel a little bolder than usual, and judging by the gaze in his eyes at your proposition, he’s into it. His lips mirror yours, curling up in a playful smirk. “Go ahead and ask a question then.”

You squint as if thinking hard about your question when in reality : you suggested it only because you knew exactly what to ask and where it would lead.

“Then… Let’s start easy. What do you think of my dress ?” You ask innocently caressing the velvet fabric. It feels so soft against your fingertips and you love it. You stare at him as you wait for the verdict.

Rafayel looks at the dress, fully, and his insistent gaze could almost feel uncomfortable if you didn’t want him right here and now.

“It perfectly accentuates that beautiful body of yours, miss Bodyguard,” He replies confidently. “My turn now. What do you hide under that perfectly cut dress ?”

He asks so quickly you can’t even grasp the compliment he just gave you. You gulp and decide to flirt again. “Why don’t you take a guess ?”

“That is not the rule of the game.” He says so low you almost can’t hear him.

“Who cares about rules ?” You say. You could tell him what you wear of course. But you want him to discover it himself for you’ve been dying to see the look on his face when you’d reveal your lingerie to him.

Rafayel approaches dangerously on the sofa. “Careful, cutie. I care about rules, and I’ll make you apply them if I have to.” His eyes are slightly menacing when he accentuates the first person pronoun. His words are an obvious threat but also a challenge. Another. Because the truth is, Rafayel knows you. He knows you, like the back of his hand and he knows the dirtiest part of you is ready to receive a punishment.

That wouldn’t even feel like one, considering some of your fantasies.

You smile and stare as he keeps approaching you slowly, almost like a predator that is about to catch his prey, a prey he’s been going after since they first met.

“I said : take a guess.” You repeat. Your voice is low and your heart feels like it’s about to explode from all the tension between you two. Rafayel’s lips are slightly parted and he sighs. “Can I have a hint ?” He asks, giving up resisting your little game.

“Too easy… Try guessing without a hint and you’ll be rewarded if you’re right.” You say. The bold words come out of your mouth so quickly you can’t even think before you speak. That makes him laugh a bit and he looks quite menacing when he does.

He keeps approaching and at some point you end up laying on your back with him crawling over your body, his hands resting on both sides of your head on the sofa, as if he’s caging you with it.

His eyes narrow as he looks at your lips and then back to your eyes. You don’t even know how divine you look right now. His mind is getting dysfunctional from all the thoughts he’s having, from how bad he wants you. At this point he’s not even trying to hide it anymore.

“Bold of you to assume I won’t claim that reward anyway.” You’re about to protest, when his lips find yours once more tonight. If the kiss from earlier was filled with the desire you both feel for each other; it is no different now, except it’s more pressed, more needy. You bite his lips as a slight punishment for his lack of obedience.

He pulls back and touches his lips you’ve just bitten. “You…” He whines, before he gets up and lifts you up the sofa.

He takes a few steps towards the house and leaves the untouched food on the table along with both your wine glasses. His room is the door that’s right on the left and as he opens it you see how he carefully decorated his room.

There’s a box of chocolate on the nightstand and a few other things. Rafayel carefully put you on his bed. He takes a step back and stares at you from head to toe.

The music that was playing outside is now playing on the small speakers he put in his room. As the next song plays, a smile paints on his lips. He slowly leans over you, his hands delicately taking off your heels. He looks down at you as you’re laying on your back and he’s still standing by the bed.

He looks at his left and opens the chocolate box. “Do you know that chocolates have aphrodisiac virtues ?” You heard about this before, but despite eating chocolate before, you’ve never felt anything special.

You gulp and he’s handing you a chocolate. “They say when the chocolate melts into your mouth, it creates a pure euphoric sensation in your whole body that’s making you crave something else.” He smirks and approaches the chocolate to your mouth. His long and thin fingers rub against your lips as you part them slightly to bite into what he’s giving you.

Your eyes never once leave his, and the expression on your face speaks thousands of unsaid words. He gives you a chaste kiss and eats the other part of the chocolate.

“What do you think, Miss Bodyguard ? Does eating that chocolate strike a special spot inside of you ?” He asks but the answer he wants isn’t about this. What he truly wants to know is whether you want him or not. And he knows you do, because, well, it’s written all over your face. But he wants you to say it.

He kneels on the edge of the bed, his hand pulling up your left leg, bringing it higher until you’re able to rub your feet against his lower back. His long and thin fingers feel so soft against your skin. “Say the words.” Rafayel commands, but the softness in his voice makes it sound like a plea.

He’s containing himself, but he knows he won’t be able to hold himself much longer if you keep staring at him like that while pulling his body closer to yours on his bed, with the sensual music playing in the background.

He grabs the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down and you bite your lip when his mouth finds its way down into your neck, dropping gentle kisses and eagerly sucking on your skin. “You drive me crazy.” He whispers between two kisses. His warm breathing on your neck mixed to his growing erection rubbing against your own most intimate parts make you let out a moan.

“I want you. Rafayel, please...” There you are, begging him to go further. Judging by the instant smirk on his lips as he pulls away from you to take off his shirt, he’s been craving to hear this.

Seeing him shirtless got you biting your lower lip, again. His body is perfect. Because it’s him. His chest punctuated here and there with a few moles make him extremely attractive. The way his abs are drawn make you want to admire it. The dim light only allows you to see his curves in the dark yet you still think of him as a work of art.

But you don’t even have time to think about what you’re staring at. Rafayel lays on top of you, whispering things against your ear that probably got you blushing. “Should I be gentle ? Or would you prefer me being rough ?” He asks and it’s most likely the most intimate question you’ve ever been expected to answer.

“Why don’t you take out my dress first ?” You say and you’re surprised yourself. Because you have no energy left in your body to resist him, you just crave to feel him inside of you yet you still try gaining time over that.

He chuckles. Part of him is quite irritated not to have an answer yet. His frustration leads him to be quite in a hurry as his hands start pulling down on your dress. Quickly, your bra is revealed and he’s almost salivating at the sight.

“Beautiful.” He whispers against your skin as he pulls you off the bed. You’re standing now and as if he was your loyal subject, he kneels before you. His eyes are practically devouring you right here, dropping kisses along your chest while pulling down your dress to reveal your full body.

“Beautiful.” He repeats as his mouth goes down on your body. Your skin is burning from the initial heat in the room mixed to the heated exchange with him just a few seconds ago.

You gulp and hold your smirk when the dress finally reaches the floor. With grace, you hold onto his shoulders and get rid of it, throwing the dress away in his room.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You mutter and his eyes almost sparkle at the sight of your stockings. “You-“ He starts and he stops himself. He’s got too many things to say, but he prefers to show you instead.

Too many words could bore you. But his hands ? Oh no there’s no way his expert hands bore you. He brings your left leg to his shoulder, and with his eyes closed he starts kissing your inner thighs. He knows it can get quite a sensitive spot when you’re so desperate to be loved, physically.

His mouth moves fast towards your pussy and it catches you off guard, your mouth letting out a few moans as you almost beg him to stop. You surely don’t want to cum just yet, but he has the entire night to make you. And it’s starting now. All of his senses are focused on hearing your sweet moans and teasing your wet sex. He loves to hear you and the smirk on his lips as you get louder only grow larger.

“Did you- mh like the lingerie I’ve chosen ?” You still manage to ask. You’re not one to beg for compliments, but you know the garter belts made him lose his mind for a second. And that’s the exact reason he’s still kneeling, despite the floor of his room not being comfortable, and for what ? Only to pleasure you.

“It’s perfect. You’re so divine it makes me crazy…” He whispers, opening his eyes to check the reaction on your face, and seeing the evident blush on your cheeks, he’s fully satisfied.

“Why don’t I show you just how much I love them ?” He asks, whispering, his fingers grasping the black lace thong that’s the only thing separating his eager mouth to the sweet spot that could make you a moaning mess. You gasp when he pulls it down, without ever taking his eyes off yours.

“Stay still, cutie.” He drops a kiss first, and quickly sticks his tongue to your clit.

“Rafayel- ah…” Your hands grip his hair instinctively.

As his tongue works hardly against your clit, almost desperate to make you cum quickly, you pull his hair harder. He’s good. He’s so good, you actually wonder how many times before he did this, and to who.

“Focus. Look at me, pleasuring you.” The way he accentuates his last word almost sounds like he can hear your train of thought.

Rafayel hums against your clit, and it sends a special feeling in your entire being. His tongue is lapping faster now and his eyes are dangerously staring at each of your reactions, memorizing them.

It is the most beautiful sight ever. You’re having a great time, he reads it on your face, and he’s just so proud he’s the one making you feel that way.

“I’m gonna.. I’m gonna cum if you keep going.” You warn. And he stops, at least for a second. “Then cum.” He says and it’s almost cruel how he commands you around. He wraps his hands around your thighs, locking you here with him sucking on your clit as if it was the source of the euphoria in his entire body.

And it might be at this point. You feel yourself getting close and he feels it too. With a smirk on his lips, he eats you out harder. Faster. Anything to hear his name fall out from your mouth. His eyes are practically screaming “Go on”.

Suddenly you feel yourself losing your balance, because the wave of pleasure submerging your body is simply too good. It’s been a long time and your legs are shaking so hard. But before you have the time to worry about falling, Rafayel lifts you off the floor and throws you on the bed.

“Have you had enough, cutie ?” He asks and he’s so obviously provoking you with that question. He smirks proudly as he sees you, still panting and the sheets becoming wet between your thighs. It’s his work of art.

You chuckle and shake your head. “Didn't you promise me a surprise ?” You say, referring to the earlier texts. He laughs too. He knows what you mean, yet he didn’t know you’d be into it as well, to the point of asking for it.

He opens the drawer and takes out the pair of handcuffs. “Shall I ?” He asks softly as you approach your wrists, allowing him to put them on for you. He bites his lip, carefully staring as he handcuffs you. His moves are slow, he obviously never did it before. And it somehow warms your heart to know you’re trying things together already.

“There. Does it hurt ?” He asks gently, his eyes scanning your face in a search for responses. “No. Now… I believe we’re not done yet.” You say, extending your leg so that your feet could rub against the obvious bulge in his pants.

As soon as you ask for it, he delivers. He takes off the rest of his clothes and his hard cock bouncing back up makes you bite your lip. It’s long but not too thick, just like you expected it to be.

He comes back on the bed and none of you waste time. You both know you’ve been wanting this ever since the beginning of this date. No. Ever since you first kissed.

You spread your legs, your wrists still tied to the bed.

He seizes your waist, pulling your body closer, and of course he doesn’t give you what you crave immediately. Instead, he rubs the tip of it against your clit and smirks down at your desperate expression.

“Put it in.” You command and it’s quite obvious from the hurried tone in your voice that you’re getting frustrated. He loves it when you moan, but he loves it even more when you beg.

His arrogant eyes stare down, and with his hands he takes off your bra, revealing your beautiful breast. He pinches one of your nipples, while his mouth eagerly sucks on the other. “You better ask nicely if you want it.” He whispers against your skin.

His chuckle makes you want to push him down the bed and ride him yourself. But you’re unable to move since he tied you up just before. Now you’re almost pissed off by his attitude, because of course he was gonna push his luck and your limits with it.

“Rafayel.” You say. “I only listen to good girls.” He replies.

He’s making you crazy, in all the ways he can. You want to scream because it feels so frustrating right now. But his cruelty somehow makes him so attractive to you.

“Rafayel please… I need you.” You say, eyebrows pinched together and angel eyes begging for him to stop teasing.

That gaze of yours is all he needs to change his mind and the soft sound of your voice as you beg for him to take you is more than enough.

He doesn’t warn, doesn’t say anything and pushes himself into your wet cunt, and it’s squeezing him so good. He whines with each of his thrusts, desperate. “Mhh.. you’re so good” He moans into your ear.

His hands are holding you in place, and your body’s not flinching, not even when his thrusts become harder and more desperate.

“Rafayel… Kiss me.” You say, almost pleading him to agree and as he obliges, his lips finding their way toward yours, you’re reduced to a moaning mess.

His thrusts switch from delicate and filled with some sort of desire : one to make you feel loved to a more brutal and rough way that doesn't show any mercy to your overstimulated body.

He loves that you take him without complaining. You let him do as he pleases, mostly because you like it that way too, but also because seeing him so free with you feels good. He feels good enough with you to be able to show both sides of himself.

“You’re so good…” Rafayel moans into your ear and he said it before but you never get tired of hearing it. His voice is softer than usual, more serious yet more relaxed at the same time.

His hands caress your thighs, throwing your legs behind his back and you wrap them together, pressing his body together with yours. You crave his voice, his scent and his touch. You want him to fill you up completely because he’s yours and you are his.

“Mine…” He moans against your neck as he sucks on it gently, but still hard enough to leave a mark of his affection.

He thrusts harder, deeper. He’s in a hurry to cum. He wants to make you feel good, wants to moan your name and make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world because, truly, you are the only one that matters to him.

The way he clings to you, and the way his voice calls out your name several times as he keeps burying himself deep inside of you, it just feels right. It feels like the only thing that was ever certain.

You are meant for him.

That’s the only thing that’s on both your minds as you reach orgasm together. And the room is filled with both your moans of each other’s name. Now it’s you and him, no one else matters.

As he cums, he nuzzles his head into your neck, one of his hands caressing your soft hair as you’re both panting and desperately trying to catch your breath. He’s still inside of you and he doesn’t want to pull away.

He feels good in your embrace. It’s warm. It’s filled with your love and that’s the only thing he needs. Now and forever you’re the only one.

Rafayel stares at you for a few seconds and he drops a loving, gentle kiss on your lips. “You’re the only one I want.” He says softly and it brings an instant smile on your lips as you kiss him back.

“I love you.” He thinks but doesn’t say it, after all, there’s still plenty of time to make you feel his love.

A whole night. An entire life. Together always. That’s pretty much the only thing he’s sure of. Yeah. Together, always.

[meeedeee]

Calling Your Congresspersons

Not my post but please feel free to copy and paste to share with others

*******************************

FOR THOSE OF YOU LOOKING TO TURN YOUR ANGER INTO ACTION, here's some advice from a high-level staffer for a Senator. Re-posting from a friend of mine:

There are two things that we should be doing all the time right now, and they're by far the most important things.

You should NOT be bothering with online petitions or emailing.

1) The best thing you can do to be heard and get your congressperson to pay attention is to have face-to-face time — if they have town halls, go to them. Go to their local offices. If you're in DC, try to find a way to go to an event of theirs. Go to the "mobile offices" that their staff hold periodically (all these times are located on each congressperson's website). When you go, ask questions. A lot of them. And push for answers. The louder and more vocal and present you can be at those the better.

2) But those in-person events don't happen every day. So, the absolute most important thing that people should be doing every day is calling.

YOU SHOULD MAKE 6 CALLS A DAY:

2 each (DC office and your local office) to your 2 Senators & your 1 Representative.

The staffer was very clear that any sort of online contact basically gets immediately ignored, and letters pretty much get thrown in the trash (unless you have a particularly strong emotional story — but even then it's not worth the time it took you to craft that letter).

Calls are what all the congresspeople pay attention to. Every single day, the Senior Staff and the Senator get a report of the 3 most-called-about topics for that day at each of their offices (in DC and local offices), and exactly how many people said what about each of those topics. They're also sorted by zip code and area code. She said that Republican callers generally outnumber Democrat callers 4-1, and when it's a particular issue that single-issue-voters pay attention to (like gun control, or planned parenthood funding, etc...), it's often closer to 11-1, and that's recently pushed Republican congressmen on the fence to vote with the Republicans. In the last 8 years, Republicans have called, and Democrats haven't.

So, when you call:

A) When calling the DC office, ask for the Staff member in charge of whatever you're calling about ("Hi, I'd like to speak with the staffer in charge of Healthcare, please") — local offices won't always have specific ones, but they might. If you get transferred to that person, awesome. If you don't, that's ok — ask for that person's name, and then just keep talking to whoever answered the phone. Don't leave a message (unless the office doesn't pick up at all — then you can — but it's better to talk to the staffer who first answered than leave a message for the specific staffer in charge of your topic).

B) Give them your zip code. They won't always ask for it, but make sure you give it to them, so they can mark it down. Extra points if you live in a zip code that traditionally votes for them, since they'll want to make sure they get/keep your vote.

C) If you can make it personal, make it personal. "I voted for you in the last election and I'm worried/happy/whatever" or "I'm a teacher, and I am appalled by Betsy DeVos," or "as a single mother" or "as a white, middle class woman," or whatever.

D) Pick 1-2 specific things per day to focus on. Don't rattle off everything you're concerned about — they're figuring out what 1-2 topics to mark you down for on their lists. So, focus on 1-2 per day. Ideally something that will be voted on/taken up in the next few days, but it doesn't really matter — even if there's not a vote coming up in the next week, call anyway. It's important that they just keep getting calls.

E) Be clear on what you want — "I'm disappointed that the Senator..." or "I want to thank the Senator for their vote on... " or "I want the Senator to know that voting in _____ way is the wrong decision for our state because... " Don't leave any ambiguity.

F) They may get to know your voice/get sick of you — it doesn't matter. The people answering the phones generally turn over every 6 weeks anyway, so even if they're really sick of you, they'll be gone in 6 weeks.

From experience since the election: If you hate being on the phone & feel awkward (which is a lot of people) don't worry about it — there are a bunch of scripts (Indivisible.org has some, there are lots of others floating around these day). After a few days of calling, it starts to feel a lot more natural.

Put the 6 numbers in your phone (all under P – Politician.) An example is McCaskill MO, Politician McCaskill DC, Politician Blunt MO, etc., which makes it really easy to click down the list each day.

**If you want to share this, please copy and paste so it goes beyond our mutual friends.**

I have added the following websites:

1. Find your federal and state legislators: Use reps.fyi (directs you to https://www.commoncause.org/find-your-representative/ )

2. Use scripts from 5Calls.org

3. Use scripts from the Americans of Conscience Checklist (updates every 2 weeks) https://americansofconscience.com/checklist/

4. Join a local or virtual group at https://indivisible.org/

[thanosscross]

Found - Dad! Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P & Idol! Teen! Reader

Summary: Growing up you always had one best friend, your mom, especially after your dad had left you before you were born. So what happens whenever a new career path ends your life-long search for your Appa?

Warnings: None that I can really think of, but if I miss one please let me know lovelies!

Translations:

Ttal-a : Daughter. An informal way for a parent to address their daughter.

You grew up being your mom's best friend, after your father had left her before you were born, it only left the two of you to take care of each other. You were an amazing daughter in your mother's eyes, always doing more than what was asked of you, even if it meant giving up something you wanted or needed.

Even through all of it, you were still weighed down by a question you had for so long, you couldn't remember a time where you didn't have it. It was basically what formed you into the determined person you are today, Who was the man who helped make you? What did he contribute in making you? Did you have his eyes? Or maybe the facial structure you had never been able to match to any of your other relatives on your mother's side. You had so many questions, that you'd always be grounded for asking, so you devoted your free time in trying to find that man, determined to find out everything about your father's family, I mean, they were your family too, right?

Your search would become severely delayed whenever you confidently signed on to an Agency to become a new idol, hoping that it'd come out at least a little successful. It wasn't a secret you came from a rougher side of the city, a small home, with broken floorboards, barely livable, but you did what you could to make it safe for your mother, especially with her worsening health. You'd spend days at a time, training at the agency, if you weren't in training, you were recording and rehearsing for your debut album, and if you weren't doing that? You'd be in meetings with different staff members, if not that? You were doing whatever you could for your mom.

As you'd start to grow in fame, your fans would take notice to certain similarities between you and another Idol, you'd be honored by their theories, with your style of music really ranging, it mainly had one common variant in each song, your ability to rap, being able to rap over 10.13 Syllables per second. The way they'd constantly swear T.O.P from BigBang was a long lost brother, or father, would always charm you, you'd look up to the rapper, especially with him basically setting the bar for any and all K-pop rappers, it was an extreme compliment for you to be compared to him.

You'd never meet T.O.P until your manager would pull him into your first stage rehearsal, it'd be three weeks before you first show, so everybody on your team was stressed, especially whenever you and your chorographer couldn't figure out what you'd do while rapping one of your verses. With rapping, it took a lot of air out of you, especially trying to keep your pitch and keep up with the backtracks, so you couldn't move much, if you'd jump around, run, or dance, you'd surely run out of air before the verse ended, but you also couldn't just stand there. "Y/n! Our little Aein! This is T.O.P, I'm sure you know of him, he's going to help your little problem" YG would cheer, introducing you both before disappearing again into the hall, most likely going to check on other idols and trainees. "Hello, you can just call me Seung Hyun, it's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard you in the studio before, you're rapping is crazy" He smiled, laughing a bit as you both bowed in sync with each other "Nice to meet you! I'm y/n, but you know that" You smiled softly before backing up slightly as your choreographer took over the conversation, as you watched the two converse, you couldn't brush off the feeling of familiarity towards the man, but you couldn't quite place it.

You'd end up spending almost three more hours working on the rest of your choreography, finally calling it quits whenever Seung Hyun spotted you asleep against the wall. He was impressed, for such a young teenager, you were determined to make waves in the industry, yes you were only 17, but you were ready, your kindness and professionalism winning over YG and the others, almost immediately.

You'd barely remember getting home, as you woke up in your own bed, glancing around before you made your way out to the kitchen hearing your mother talking with somebody over the phone. As she finished her phone call, you tiredly sat at the counter, resting your head on your hands as you yawned. "That was your manager, he said you're doing well with your fans" She smiled towards you, handing over a plate of breakfast as she sat next to you "I know! They're so amazing, and they keep coming up with these awesome theories about who my dad might be" You smiled, not noticing her disgusted look, you never understood why she wouldn't ever talk about your father, other than to bash him, and to remind you that he left you, and she stayed. "Some people think it's rapper, T.o.p?" You added on, smiling softly as she looked at you confused "Who would ever name their child, T.o.p?" She asked, her tone dripping in annoyance and disgust "Well, that's his stage name, his real name is Choi Seung Hyun" You replied, jumping slightly as her hand slammed against the counter "That name will not be spoken in my home!" She screamed, you quickly stood up, going to apologize, only to have interrupted by her pointing to the door aggressively. Getting her message, you walked out of the front door, confused, standing there for a moment before pulling out your phone.

You weren't sure who to call, it was still pretty early, but you needed a ride to YG's agency building, walking that far would be damn near impossible to do, especially with you needing to be there, in about 32 minutes. As you held your phone to your ear, you sat on the curb anxiously picking at your socks, only now realizing, you were still in nightclothes and no shoes, but if your Umma wanted you out, who were you to argue? It'd be disrespectful as a daughter if you did. "Hello?" You heard a deep sleepy voice call through the phone, you were hesitant to speak at first, only whenever you realized he might fall back asleep, you spoke "Hey..Um..It's Y/n, are you free?" You asked nervously, hearing the older male sigh, you started to regret calling him, why not call YG? He might've been able to help. "Y-Yea yea, what's..what's going on?" Seung Hyun tiredly asked as he rolled out of the bed, running a hand over his face as he tried to wake himself up more "So...I think my mom might hate you.." You whispered, leaning your head down to rest on your knees "I brought you up..and she kicked me out..I don't know how long for- and! I'm not asking for a place to stay, I-I just..need a ride" You rambled, your anxiety starting to build whenever you heard nothing in reply, it took a moment for Seung Hyun to wrack his brain; maybe that's why your last name sounded so familiar. "Who's your mom?" He asked as he started to get dressed, not planning on leaving you to walk to the agency building. "Y/m/n l/n" You replied, pulling your nightshirt tighter around you as the morning rush started to pick up more, you could hear Seung Hyun's small huff through the phone "I'll be there in about...ten?" He replied, not really replying to your answer before the phone call was cut off. Why were both him and your mom acting so strange? Did they have something going on together?...was he..?

It would be six weeks of you both getting to know each other and picking up on each other's similar habits between you both, there was just something so familiar about each other, but neither of you could place it. Seung Hyun felt a connection towards you, always wanting to make sure you were on the right track, you had everything you needed, and you were protected; You felt almost the same, you just felt calm and safe whenever you were with Seung Hyun, it wasn't that you didn't normally feel safe, but you knew if you needed anything, even if it was a pretty rough situation, you could always call him for help. Your new friendship only fueled fan rumors that Seung Hyun was your father even more, especially with how you interacted during the family concerts, your manager would hold after your debut.

After a while though, Seung Hyun took notice to the fact, you'd never really do what you wanted, he never saw you doing any hobbies, or anything really other than work and favors for others. So, one night he'd find you in the recording studio, sitting at the table as you scrolled on your laptop, groaning loudly whenever you hit another dead end. You were getting so close to giving up, starting to believe maybe your dad just wasn't there out, or at least, wanted nothing to do with you. "Hey...What's going on? Need help?" He offered quickly, taking in your pissed off state, you reminded him of your mother, he'd still be oblivious to the fact he was the person you were looking for, instead, only knowing himself as one of your mother's exes. "No, No. I'm um- working" You rambled, scrambling to close your laptop, turning your attention towards him as you sighed "Working, yes, I am also working then- stop lying and tell me what's up" He replied sarcastically before his tone turned serious as he sat down next to you. "Fine, but you can't..tell anybody" You huffed, opening your computer back up to show him everything you had found out so far from your grandmother and aunt about your dad "I just..want to find him, and I know it probably sounds weird and creepy, but I just-" Seung Hyun cut your rambling off by coughing slightly "It's not either of those things, you're just a kid who misses a parent" He replied, scooting closer to read over what was presented on the screen. Seung Hyun had to hide his nervousness as he read further down the list, as he got to the end, he started to do the math in his head, feeling his heart drop slightly whenever he started to get a feeling maybe your mother wasn't entirely truthful about their break-up.

Seung Hyun did his best to stay calm for the rest of the night, not wanting to give you any false hopes, especially with the way you were speaking of your hopes of one day finding him. The next morning though? He was already out of his home as soon as the sun came up, making his way towards your old residence, you now happily living in one of the dorms at the agency building. Whenever your mother ended things with him, she had told this elaborate story about how she was too old to chase around a K-pop idol, being almost five years younger than her, he believed it, not really thinking much of it. As he knocked on your mother's front door though, he started to heavily question her story, which caused frustration to start growing inside of his body. "Hell- No! Get out of here!" Your mother shouted loudly, glaring daggers at Seung Hyun as she huffed, not wanting to accept the fact her almost 18-year-old lie was finally busted. "Y/m/n. We need to speak about Y/n" He demanded, ignoring your mother's protests as he entered the familiar home, it had severely fallen apart since he had been here last, but everything was still in its original place. "Y/n is my daughter. only mine! You have no right coming into my home! You- You disrespectful-" Seung Hyun was quick to cut your mother off with a harsh glare and a scoff "I don't care if I'm disrespecting you! Unless you were unfaithful while we were together- you know as much as I do, That poor kid has grown up without a dad, because of you" He snapped, standing in his spot next to the door as your mother stepped closer, poking his chest as she stood on her tip toes to get in his face "No! Because you weren't capable of being a father! It's your fault! You were young and immature!" She shouted back, hatred dripping from her tone as Seung Hyun took a step back, laughing sarcastically "How could you possibly know, if you never let me know you were having my kid!" He shouted back, freezing whenever he heard the door next to him open "U-Umma?" You whispered, standing in shock as you stared at the both of them, was he serious? You could tell by their shocked and scared facial expressions; you had finally found out the truth. "Y/n.." Seung Hyun started before you took off back out of the door, needing a moment to wrap your head around the information overload you had just received. "Just let her go, she needs time" Your mother huffed, glaring towards your dad one final time "Get. the fuck. out" She snapped, glaring at her in return, Seung Hyun quickly rushed out, calling your name as he tried to spot what way you went.

You'd be walking down the street whenever Seung Hyun would find you, again, your face bright red from the cold wind, and your cheeks stained with tears. Why was your mom acting so hateful lately? Why did they both hide who your father was? Did Seung Hyun know the entire time? What was Seung Hyun saying about not knowing? You were pulled out of your thoughts by a car door shutting, and quick footsteps behind you. "Y/n! Y/n! Would you just stop for a moment!" Seung Hyun demanded, you quickly halted in your spot, slowly turning around to face him "I-I really don't want to talk to you or my mom right now, I'm sorry" You replied softly, feeling bad for saying it, but you just continued on your trail, only stopping whenever your father grabbed your wrist gently "At least get in the car, and get a ride to, I assume, work" Seung Hyun pleaded, he felt terrible for what you were going through, absolutely terrible, but he was also in a whirlwind himself, he was a dad? He had been a dad for the last 17 years? Does that make him a bad one, for not being there?

You'd sit in silence the entire ride, only speaking again whenever Ji-Yong slowly made his way into your recording studio, a place you found yourself being in a lot. "Hey..kiddo" He whispered awkwardly, not really knowing how to start the conversation, you just sighed, turning in your chair to face him. "Seung Hyun told you?" You asked, pulling your knees to your chest as you watched him take a seat on the sofa in front of you. "He told me his feelings. How he feels terrible, that he wasn't there for you, but I don't think it's his fault" Ji-Yong stated, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he waited for a response. "I don't..know..How can you just not know you have a whole child?" You asked, you still weren't sure how to process your situation, you just felt hurt and confused at the moment. Ji-Yong nodded at your words, taking a moment before leaning back against the sofa "I know it's hard to hear, but he really had no idea, kiddo. I know my hyung, we've been best friends for..well forever, and I know if he did know about having a daughter, he would've done everything for you." He explained, getting choked up by his own words as he remembered how hurt and upset Seung Hyun looked whenever he busted into their shared dorm. "I just don't understand why my mom hid it from me, and even then..who says he wants to be my dad? I'm almost an adult now, a-and I mean, I'm not exactly the best crayon in the box, so why would he?" You rambled, hugging your knees tighter around you, as you felt tears building in your eyes; You had always imagined how it would be, if you finally met your father, but now you were just scared. What if he didn't want or like you as a daughter? What if all of those interactions between you both were just pity? Or something he had to do for work?

"Y/n. I couldn't tell you why your mother hid that from you, I'm sorry..but I can't, kiddo..What I can tell you, is that you are amazing, you're not even an adult yet and how many times have your songs been on the top five? But I think the rest of this conversation, should be with you and your father, I can only tell you so much about how he truly feels, he can tell you better than I can" He whispered, nodding towards the door, you took a deep breath before standing up "I-Is he mad at me?..for not talking to him?" You whispered, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands nervously, Ji-Yong just shook his head smiling, noticing how much you reminded him of your father.

You slowly entered the BigBang dorm, and into the bedroom, your eyes quickly meeting your father's as you froze, taking in how utterly broken he looked. His hair was a mess, eyes bloodshot from tears, along with his cheeks being tear-stained. "I-I'm so sorry" He started, you just quietly walked over, hugging him tightly, trying your best to hold back your tears as you felt him sob against your shoulder. "I don't blame you..and I'm not that mad at you..but I know you figured it out the other night" You whispered, trying your best to get him to stop crying, you hated it, you hated anybody crying, your biggest goal in life was trying to make others smile, so crying was the exact opposite of what you wanted. "You didn't have a father" He whispered, hugging you tightly, still in disbelief that he had a daughter, an almost adult daughter at that. "I was a pretty good Oppa to myself" You joked, trying yet again to get him to laugh, only proving slightly successful as he stopped crying, not wanting to pull away from the hug yet. "You shouldn't have had to be a father to yourself, or take care of yourself and your mom, I-I should've been there" He whispered, pulling away from your hug for a moment to have you sit next to him at the end of the bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders gently as he hugged you again "You hug a lot, you know that right?" You laughed, trying to lean away from him, only for him to pull you right back into a hug "I have to make up for seventeen years of hugs, and 'I'm proud of you'- Oh my god! Am I proud of you? So much! I have one of the biggest Idols as my kid! I'm going to brag about that to everybody!" He rambled, causing you to smile softly, your mom had hated the fact you were an Idol, yes, she loved the benefits that came with being an Idol, but she hated everything else about it, so hearing someone close to you was proud, made you want to cry now.

You both sat for what felt like hours, just talking about everything he had missed in your early years of childhood. Eventually you both ended up at his home, him insisting you ate a real dinner, instead of the same cheap pack of noodles every night. As you sat at the kitchen island, you watched as he started plating the food "Do you know why...Umma hid who you were? Why'd you leave? Was it me?" You whispered, tilting your head slightly, wanting to know exactly what the two of them were arguing about, whenever you had walked into your mom's house. "Your mom had her reasons..they weren't very fair reasons...but she had them, As for leaving, I did, but I didn't at the same time, your mom ended things, telling me it was about my career, turns out, it was because she didn't want to share such an amazing kid with any other parents" He explained, not wanting to bash your mother, especially not to you, while he despised your mother for what she had done, he wasn't going as low as talking badly about her to her daughter. "You don't have to lie..I heard you guys through the door, partially" You protested, watching him drop his head in shame with a sigh "She didn't think I was capable of raising a kid" He whispered, hating that he was even talking about the topic with you, frustrated you just shook your head, smacking your hands down on the table "That's so stupid! I wasn't even born yet! How would she know!?" You shouted, standing up as you started to pace the kitchen floor, running a hand through your hair before Seung Hyun stopped you by grabbing your hoodie sleeve gently, pulling you back over to the counter "I agree, I agree, but it's time to eat, so get to the table" He laughed, motioning you away as he followed behind with two plates, and his glass of wine.

After dinner, you were laid sprawled out on the living room floor, Seung Hyun sitting a few feet away on his couch "Please don't die in my floor" He laughed after a moment, watching as you turned your head to look at him "I will die wherever I please, but I might just sleep here" You huffed, moving to slowly climb onto the couch, the meal Seung Hyun had made was absolutely amazing, one of the bests you've ever had. "I don't care if you sleep here, I've got a sofa, or a guest bed, or you can take my room, and I'll take the guest bed" He offered, pointing to each door as he spoke, you just laughed shaking your head "I'll take the guest room, it's your house, and you're like..an old man" You joked, laughing softly as he gave you an offended look, standing up to make your way to the guest room, feeling like you'd fall asleep any moment, you stopped to look back at Seung Hyun. "If it means anything...I think you would've been an awesome Appa..I think you're already an awesome Appa" You whispered before offering him a soft smile, your dad had to hold back tears as he smiled at you softly "It means the world, I think you're an awesome Ttal-a, Y/n" He replied, his voice cracking as he resting a hand over his eyes for a moment, trying his best to hide his tears. "I know" You giggled before shutting the door behind you, moving to lay down on the most comfortable bed, you had ever touched.

As you fell asleep, you contemplated how you were going to talk to your Umma again after this, or even what you'd say. You didn't let yourself think too hard though, falling asleep rather quickly as you heard your father's muffled voice from the living room, most likely on the phone with someone. As you fell asleep, you noticed something you hadn't ever felt before, when falling asleep, you felt comfortable, with no worries, knowing the only thing you had to deal with tomorrow was work. Your life-long search was finally over, yes it hadn't happened how your younger self always pictured, but you wouldn't change it, and you definitely wouldn't change who your Appa was, because for once in your life, you were happy with the answers you had gotten.

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What do we think lovelies? I am SO SO SO Sorry this took so long to post :( My week has been the craziest I've had yet, plus I had my younger brother over for majority of the week, but behold! My newest fic, with more to come!! My likely my next story will 100% be a wedding fic 0.0 so make sure to keep an eye out for me lovely ;)

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Taglist!!

@onyxmango

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[harrywavycurly]

Absolutely loving killer Harry! I love how protective of us he is and how just caring and in love he is with us. Though has there ever been a time where he was the one where he desperately needed someone or us for comfort? Has he ever been that vulnerable with us?

Hiii lovey!! So I think 100000% Harry has had moments of insecurity and thinks he’s not enough for you and that’s sort of why he needs you to comfort him a bit! So I hope you enjoy this!!💖

Find all things Loving a Killer here✨

CW: Harry is a killer in this series but it’s only mentioned briefly and no details are given in this update about what he’s done.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia

Summary: Harry has a bad day and just needs you to comfort him a bit✨

It’s rare that Harry lets anyone see him at his lowest when the weight of all the horrible things he’s done rests on his shoulders and he feels as if he doesn’t deserve the happiness he’s found in life, the happiness he has all because of you. You’re the one person who has seen Harry in this state, he doesn’t bother putting up a wall with you because you know him too well and while he does keep things from you, such as what he really does for a living, he is actually very forthcoming with his feelings with you because most of the time it’s just him telling you how much he loves you and how you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. But something he’s learned in his years of being with you and especially in the years he’s been married to you is that it’s just as important for him to share how he’s feeling in the not so great moments as well as the happy ones, it’s what helps you understand him a bit more and get to see his more vulnerable side that he doesn’t share with anyone else.

That’s why having Harry’s head resting in your lap while you’re sat at the edge of the bed with him on his knees between your legs isn’t that shocking, you could tell he was feeling a little down the moment he got home from work a few hours earlier. You run a hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp making him relax the tiniest bit. He hasn’t said anything to you minus that he loves you but that was as he was getting ready for bed, he’s been silence since then even when he dropped to his knees in front of you while you were putting your lotion on and rested his head in your lap and securely wrapped himself around you and you don’t mind because you know he will talk when he’s ready.

“Can I ask you something?” You look down at him as he mumbles his question into the fabric of your pajama pants.

“You can ask me anything you want.” You tell him as your free hand rests on the top of his shoulder so you can give it a small squeeze.

“Do you think you’ll always love me?” He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this while you have no clue about the horrible things he does and has done in the time you’ve known him but he just needs some reassurance in this very moment so he doesn’t really care how unfair he’s being.

“I know I’ll always love you.” You answer with a smile as you continue running your fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing you could do that would ever make me stop loving you.” Your soft and gentle tone lets him know you mean every word and Harry wants to smile but he can’t because of the guilt he feels knowing that he’s already done plenty of things that would make all the love you have for him fade away and turn into disgust and anger.

“I don’t deserve you.” He says with a sigh as his arms around your middle tighten almost as if he’s afraid that if his hold on you loosens even just the tiniest bit you’ll slip away from him. You feel the corners of your mouth drop at his words, hating that whatever thoughts he’s got swirling around in his mind are making him feel like he’s not good enough. You bring your hand up and place it on his cheek that’s not pressed against your thighs, you softly run your thumb over his cheekbone as your other hand plays with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Well I know you don’t hear this a lot but you’re wrong.” You watch as your words make Harry’s mouth twitch like he’s fighting off a smile. “You deserve me because I deserve you.” You swallow the small lump that’s forming in your throat as you look over at your nightstand that has a photo of you and Harry from your wedding day sitting in a pretty frame next to your lamp.

“No one can love me the way you do. No one can make me feel like I’m the most important person in the whole world the way you do. No one can protect me the way you do. So you saying you don’t deserve me is like you’re trying to tell me I don’t deserve the kind of happiness that I only get when I’m with you.” Harry’s eyes open as soon as he hears you sniffle and you don’t even have time to wipe away the few tears that have escaped before he’s sitting up making your hands fall into your lap while his come up to gently cup the sides of your face, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears for you.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world.” He tells you with as much softness he can muster as he feels his heart begin to crack at the sight of you getting upset because you just want him to know how loved he makes you feel. While he’s glad he makes you feel this way he also hates that a part of him knows the reason he goes so overboard with his love and affection for you is because he thinks maybe if he treats you the best he possibly can you won’t want to leave the moment you find out the monster he really is.

“And I get that when I’m with you.” Harry hates knowing your happiness is tied up in being with him because he knows there’s a small possibility that somewhere down the line he won’t be able to be around anymore, either because a job goes wrong or someone stumbles upon his preferred burial site that holds more than a few skeletons of his. “Is there something wrong that we need to work on? Are you not-”

“No baby there’s nothing wrong.” He says quickly stopping you from asking any other questions because he can’t stand the thought of you thinking you have anything to do with his mood this evening. “I just sometimes think this-this life we’ve made with each other is almost too good to be true and-and I get in my head about how one day you’re going to realize how fucked up I am and you’ll run for the hills.” His thumbs are still softly rubbing over your cheeks as he finally lets you in on the types of things that have been rolling around in his mind lately.

“I already know how fucked up you are Harry.” His eyes stare into yours as you bring your hands up and rest them on top of his. “You wake up before the sun rises to work out. You also prefer cold showers unless I’m joining you and force you to take a hot one. You are so organized I don’t even know where half our stuff even is. And you eat beans on toast. You’re an actual freak.” You explain with a small sniffle while you wrap your hands around his wrists, Harry appreciates your attempt at trying to change the mood of the conversation because he doesn’t know how much longer he can watch tears slip down your face.

“But you love me right?” He asks as he leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I love you so don’t think even for a minute that I’ll ever leave you okay?” Harry just nods as you give his wrists a squeeze and that’s when you notice his eyes have gotten a little misty. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure him as you move your hands from his wrist and up to his face while his hands drop to your shoulders.

“Good.” You smile as you feel him lean into your touch. “You mean everything to me you know that right?” You give him a small nod as you hear the emotion in his voice. “I love you.” He says softly as you lean in and rest your forehead against his as a few stray tears roll down his face. “I’m sor-” Harry’s apology is cut off by the feeling of your lips on his in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too.” You mumble against his lips as his hands slip into your hair keeping your face close to his. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Harry closes his eyes for a moment as you take your thumbs and wipe away the last of his tears while he take a few seconds to let your words sink in, ignoring the ever present guilt that wants to work its way up his chest and into his throat so he can come clean and just tell you everything he’s done wrong that would make you change your mind and demand an apology and probably a divorce from him.

But Harry decides that while yes he does unspeakable things and hurts people for a living, there’s a reason he walked into the cafe you worked at all those years ago and maybe it was because the universe or whatever it may be knew you were exactly what he needed in his life. He felt lost before he met you, just going through the motions of life with no real purpose until you came along and gave him one. That’s why he will always drop whatever he’s doing if you need him because your happiness is his main priority and it’s the same reason he’d leave and make sure you never saw him again if you ever do decide to be done with him.

He hasn’t ever loved anyone as much as he loves you and as he leans in and places a kiss to your lips he knows you love him just as much when he feels you pull him closer when you think he’s about to pull away, not wanting him to get too far but you have nothing to worry about because Harry isn’t going anywhere. The two of you are it for each other and he feels a sense of relief wash over him as that realization hits him, momentarily putting him at ease.

“You really think I’m a freak because of the beans on toast thing?” He teases once you actually allow him to pull away and you roll your eyes as he places little kisses to the tip of your nose and then both cheeks.

“Yes.” He smiles as you run a hand through his hair. “But you’re my freak.”

“Oh really? And here I was thinking you were my little freak.” He chuckles at the way your cheeks get pink as he leans down and gives you a quick peck making you smile when he pulls away. It’s a smile that makes Harry’s heart want to burst because it’s the smile you give him when he can tell you’re truly happy and that’s all Harry wants, he just wants to be able to make you smile like that for as long as he can.

[reidsmanuscript]

Meet the Minds

Summary: 4 years after that one time in a bar, on how your character Criminal Minds was born, and maybe how something else was also borned. Pairing: mgg x actress!reader Genre: friends to lovers?, fluff, mutual pinning TW: Public Scrutiny/Fame, reader has severally parents issues, plus they are passive aggressive but it's short i swear, brief mention of cheating, mgg takes a minute to appear i know im sorry, long introduction wc: 3.7k! A/N: hopefully someone will understand what I'm aiming for with both of my dear !readers, this is with the solely purpose to treat myself i fear Masterlist!

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Since that one time in a bar it has been 4 years. Your show City Lights has gotten big. And when you say big, it was BIG, and so did you.

You were wrapping up the third season of the show, with a renewed contract for the next season in hand and a few promising movie proposals. In the past four years, you and your friends have become famous. Not A-list famous, but enough that if any of you went out, someone would recognize you, or a few paparazzi might follow your every move.

The four of you had lived in the same apartment in New York ever since filming started on location. HBO wanted your friendship to feel authentic for the cameras, and boy, were you grateful for that… because they had become your true best friends—not just on TV, but in real life.

It was Ashley, Jack and Nathan. Something that always happens when you start a show and it gets views it’s that the whole crew becomes a big family. In the middle of the second season, you finally mustered the courage to ask the showrunner, Jeff Davis, if you could join the writers' table to pitch some ideas for your character. He agreed, and since then, some of the best storylines on the show had come from your contributions.

The thing was, your name brought in big numbers, and it had caught the attention of producers and showrunners alike. Criminal Minds had premiered a year ago, gained some traction, but they wanted to take it to the next level. So Jeff, the same creator of your show, called you and your agent to see if you could join the cast.

There were two problems. First, your schedule was already packed. Moving to L.A. for the shoot wasn’t an option—City Lights had you locked in for the fourth season, and there was a possibility you'd land the lead in a promising film. On top of that, you were still taking college classes from a foreign university at your parents' insistence. So, being a recurring character was out of the question.

Second, when they handed you the script, you hated the character. They wanted you to be the fan favorite, Spencer Reid’s love interest, and while you had no problem with that, the character itself didn’t sit right with you. She was this sweet, innocent woman, one who was a victim from one unsub, and Spencer, an addict, would find redemption through her. He’d get sober and everything would be perfectly happy. You thought it was dull.

For starters, you knew how controversial it would be for her to become his personal recovery center, but you also saw the potential in the character. So, you asked if you could rewrite her into something more dynamic, something with more depth. Given the trust Jeff had in you, he gave you free rein to make the changes.

“How’s it going?” Jack, one of your best friends and a Criminal Minds fan, asked, entering the living room.

“A surprisingly moving amount of absolute nothing,” you said jokingly, staring at the blank space.

“Oh, come on, dude! We’ve watched some of the episodes together! You know the vibe,” he said, sitting down on the couch beside you.

“Well, I know the vibe, I just don’t know how to write it.” you said throwing your hands to the air in a comically exasperated way.

“Well, I know the vibe, I just don’t know how to write it,” you said, dramatically throwing your hands in the air, exasperated.

“Guess who’s gone viral again!” Nathan breezed into the room, flashing you a grin. He played your love interest on City Lights, and the fans went wild for your on-screen chemistry. But the truth was, you two were nothing more than really good friends. There was no romance, just a strong, platonic bond.

“Ugh... please tell me it’s for the right reasons.” You shut your eyes and let your head flop back against the couch.

Nathan tossed you his phone, then leaned casually on the backrest of the couch, Jack scooting closer to get a better look.

“What is it? Another red sauce scandal?” you asked, scrunching your nose at the thought.

Let me tell you something: becoming famous at 17 or 18 leaves you with a digital footprint that you'll wish you could erase by the time you’re 23.

He handed you his phone, showing a new release from Austin, your ex-boyfriend. The song title was painfully obvious—"Still Stuck on You." The lyrics left no room for interpretation, and the message hit you like a ton of bricks. Austin had written another song about you, and this time, he made it clear.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me! This is like the third one this year!” Your mouth hung open in disbelief as Jack, who had burst out laughing, took the phone from your hands and started scrolling through the Twitter comments.

He had been your “boyfriend” four years ago, but only for PR purposes. When you found out he’d cheated, you broke up with him. He begged and cried, and it was pathetic. Since then, Austin had turned your brief relationship into his whole persona. He released songs that were painfully obvious about you, dated women who looked eerily like you, and spent interviews throwing shade, spreading lies, all for attention. The problem? You were skyrocketing, gaining fame in ways he could never have predicted, and he—well, he was still stuck on you.

Your phone started ringing somewhere around the apartment, a FaceTime call vibrating through the cushions. You rummaged through the pillows on the couch, cursing under your breath as you came up empty.

“Seriously, how do you always lose it?” Nathan said, appearing behind you with a smirk. He found your phone wedged between the couch cushions and handed it to you just as you answered the call. As he did, you reached into your back pocket, pulling out a dollar bill and placing it in his open hand.

See, you had a special talent for losing your phone around the house, and your friends turned it into a game. Every time you misplaced it and one of them found it, you owed them a dollar.

“Bitch have you seen it?!” Ashley squealed from your phone, her voice laced with urgency. 

“It's like jumpscare! you know it’s coming but it’s always surprisingly disappointing!” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Somebody said, ‘Are you writing a memoir or just trying to hit the ‘most dramatic ex’ award this year?’” You all chuckled at Jack’s reading.

“Gotta go, some stylist is calling me. Love ya, bye!” Ashley hung up quickly, going back to her photoshoot, leaving you to shake your head and wish her good luck.

Jack kept giggling at the comments, lost in the chaos of Austin’s latest stunt. Meanwhile, you stared blankly at your screen, the cursor blinking mockingly back at you.

Nathan gave you a playful shove. “You know what’s really offensive? The tempo on that track. It’s like he’s trying to be edgy but doesn’t understand how syncopation works.”

“Hmm, well, what else could you expect? Maybe you should make your own song about it, something with a real sense of rhythm,” You said absently, still staring at the screen, the cursor blinking in a never-ending challenge.

“And you should start writing that, maybe throw in a little revenge of your own,” he said, nudging his chin toward the computer screen with a grin. You frowned at him, your gaze drifting back to the cursor as you considered his words.

　　　　 　　    .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

You were studying—actually studying—sitting in the mini studio with notes scattered in front of you, calculator by your side, silently frustrated as you tried to make sense of the numbers. Ashley was on the other side of the desk in front of you, pacing and memorizing her lines, back and forth, her voice echoing in the room. Your grip tightened on your pencil, eyes flicking over the work in front of you, when your phone buzzed. Another message.

"We’ve heard about your 'plans,' but it’s hard to take them seriously when you can’t commit. It’s cute to 'explore options,' but at some point, you’ll have to stop playing around and think about your future. Don’t you want to be taken seriously?"

Maybe it was the sound of your phone tapping against the wood of the table, or the way your hand instinctively went to your eyes, trying to stop the threatening tears, that tipped Ashley off. She paused, looking up from her lines, eyes narrowing as she caught the shift in your mood, as she made it to your way, reading the message still open on your phone that had already sunk in, the familiar sting. 

Ashley didn’t hesitate. She pulled you into a hug, still standing while you were sat, one arm wrapping around your shoulders tightly as she murmured, "Fuck them. Seriously. You don’t need their crap." She squeezed you harder, as if to prove the point. "You're better than any of that. Don’t let their bullshit get to you." Her voice was fierce, a protective edge in every word.

The relationship with your parents was complicated, to say the least. You'd tried to make them proud, but it was never enough. Now, more than ever, you’d rebel when you chose to become an actress. It felt ridiculous—like you were still studying against your will, trying to prove something you didn’t even want to.

"I mean, what the fuck will it take for them to take me seriously? A fucking Oscar? Have some damn patience—I’m working on it," you spat, voice shaky, leaning into Ashley as tears threatened to spill.

She sighed, pulling you in a little tighter. “Fuck them,” she muttered, her voice low but firm. “They don’t get it, and honestly, they probably never will. But you’ve got this. You’re doing something they can’t even begin to understand. Don’t let their bullshit get to you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, at least it wasn’t a call. I swear it’s pathetic how every time I get mad, I just cry.”

Ashley pulled you into a tight hug, her voice soft but firm. “Forget about them for a second, okay? You don’t need to study right now. You’ve been working your ass off. Take a break. You’re allowed to feel pissed off without worrying about your grades for a few minutes.” She pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “You’re doing your best, and that’s all that matters.”

With a last shaky breath and wiping away the tears that had escaped, you nodded. Ashley sighed, her voice soft but firm. “Hey, enough with the studying for now. You’ve been pushing yourself way too hard. Wanna get cute and go out for some coffee?” She gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You deserve a break.”

You chuckled, truly this time, and shook your head. "Maybe later. You finish with your lines, and I’ll… go grab some snacks," she nodded, giving you a smile, picking up the forgotten script.

You were still shaken, even frustrated at how powerless you felt around your parents, and how you reacted to your feelings. You cried, and sometimes words became hard to find. You wished you could scream and destroy everything, just let it all out, like those female rage characters, but for now, you were left in silence.

Which gave you an idea.

　　　　 　　    .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

That’s how you ended up creating your character—in a fully cathartic, all-nighter frenzy, shaping her with layers of meaning. Like her nickname, “Woody,” a nod to Nathan’s favorite movie, Toy Story—a little inside joke, a quiet way of taking revenge in your own way.

She was everything you weren’t, and at the same time, everything you were.

And then there was her best friend, Austin—played by Jack, of course, since he was a huge fan of the show—who you took every opportunity to be mean to, just for the fun of it.

You’d never admit it, but the line “Austin is not my boyfriend”? Yeah, that had a little extra bite to it. A double meaning, if you will.

　　　　 　　    .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

The producers loved it. The depth of your character, how dark her storyline was. Because if you really want to keep the audience engaged? Give them two characters who are absolutely perfect for each other—but can’t be together.

And when the idea of adding Jack came up, they agreed immediately. What’s better than one City Lights star joining the show? Two City Lights stars.

But they had asked you to keep the secret from everyone, including the current cast. Who you'll be meeting and revealing your characters to in the table reading 

　　　　 　     .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

Jack and you were currently at ABC’s costume department, standing in front of a mirror while the costume designer and a wardrobe assistant made final adjustments to your outfits.

“Man, I’m boiling in here,” you groaned, peeling off the red shirt as the wardrobe assistant jotted down notes about the fit. 

Jack, meanwhile, admired himself in the mirror, dramatically flipping back the leather jacket he was trying on. “Do I look tough? Like, would you trust me with your deepest, darkest secret?” He smirked, striking a pose straight out of an action movie.

The costume designer, pinning a hem on your sleeve, barely glanced up. “You look like an extra in a bad '90s biker film.”

“You look like you're about to challenge a middle schooler to a dance battle,” you added, crossing your arms.

Jack gasped, clutching his chest. “Wow. Zero faith in me.”

“More like zero intimidation factor” You said from the changing room, a few moments later, you stepped out  wearing a white shirt and black vest, and flashed Jack a playful grin. “So, do I finally look like the child my parents can brag about?” you joked, adjusting the vest slightly.

The wardrobe assistant shot you a thumbs up, clearly impressed with the fit.

“Are you maxing out someone's card again?” A voice asked behind you. 

You turned around to see Matthew grinning. You chuckled, scrambling for a response. “Well… I’m not legally allowed to talk about it,” you said, cringing internally.

Man, you were awkward without alcohol in your veins.

He chuckled, stepping closer to pull you into a brief hug in greeting. You’d already worked together on The Beauty Inside, so the familiarity was there—comfortable, easy, playful even.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

“Ummm well..” You turned to Jack with panic in your eyes. Jack, ever the performer, didn’t miss a beat. “We’re actually here to stage a heist. High-stakes, top secret.” He waggled his eyebrows.

You groaned, shoving his shoulder. “We’re doing costume fittings.”

Matthew raised a brow, clearly amused. “Costume fittings, huh?” His gaze flickered to the wardrobe racks surrounding you. “For something unannounced?”

You hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line. “I plead the fifth.”

Jack threw an arm around your shoulders. “She’s under strict secrecy orders, but between us?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “It 's big.”

“Jaaack,” you warned, dragging out the 'a' in a clear sign for him to be careful.

“Well, if you’re in it, I bet it is,” he said, smirking at you.

You chuckled, clearing your throat. “Soo, what are you doing here?”

“Well, this is kinda where I work,” he said with a shrug teasing. Right. This was where the cast of Criminal Minds did their fittings, although the producers had made sure you were not scheduled together to avoid leaks.

You raised an eyebrow, looking around the room. "Here? In the costume department?"

He grinned, clearly enjoying your confusion. "Yep, I mean, what else would I be doing here? Getting my wardrobe ready for my big role?" he added, his tone mock-serious. “What are you supposed to be, by the way? A real estate agent? I bet you’re just one property listing away from a deal of the century,” he said, eyeing your clothes.

You chuckled again. “No, um… I’m actually a very boring banker,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much. Like get a hold of yourself girlie, he’s just a tall, handsome man, with nice hair and curls and pretty eyes, and gentle. Somebody, hand me a glass of water, or wine, whichever is easier.

The costume designer called your name, already holding more clothes in her hands. "We need to finish these adjustments, sweetheart."

You nodded, trying to shake off the distraction. "Right, I’ll be right there."

Matthew smirked, taking it as his cue to leave. "I guess I'll let you continue. Good luck being a banker," he teased, giving you one last look.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks, Matthew," you said, turning toward the designer as he walked off.

Jack, who had been quietly observing from the corner, chimed in with a grin. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘big role’ like a banker in slacks."

You shot him a playful glare. "Oh shut up, Johnny Bravo," you joked, laughing as he dramatically posed in response.

　　　　 　    .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

The producers stood at the front of the room, their eyes scanning the assembled cast. There was a buzz in the air—everyone was settling in, ready for the read-through to begin. After a quick round of hellos and some introductions, one of the producers, a tall woman with a clipboard, stood up to speak.

“Alright, everyone, before we dive in, we have a very exciting addition to the cast today. You’re about to meet someone who is going to bring a lot of depth and intensity to the world of Criminal Minds.” The showrunner smiled at you, saying your names and introducing the new character you’d be bringing to life.

Jack, sitting beside you, was doing his best to keep his cool, but the way he gripped his script gave him away. His knuckles were turning white from how tightly he held the pages, and you couldn’t help but smirk. Leaning toward him, you whispered, “That’s not bubble wrap.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and he whisper-shouted, “That’s Mandy Patinkin sitting right there. Do you have any idea how my mom would react if she were here?”

You chuckled under your breath, keeping your eyes on the table. Across from you, Matthew sat diagonally, flipping through the script with a furrowed brow. When he glanced up, he shot you a mock-offended look and mouthed, “Liar.”

You choked back a laugh, quickly mouthing “Sorry” with a small shrug just as the producers began reading.

　　　　 　    .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

The reading session had concluded, and you were chatting with Paget about how much you had loved her in Friends. Meanwhile, Jack was across the room, subtly—well, not so subtly—trying to get an autograph from Mandy.

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Matthew making his way toward you, but pretended not to notice, keeping your attention on Paget. You had a feeling he was about to make some kind of remark, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of expecting it.

“You should be careful with her, she lied to me and told me she was going to be some boring banker,” he finally said, warning Paget with a smirk, 

You turned to him with an unimpressed look. “I’ll take that as I’m good at my job”

Paget raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the exchange. “Oh, so she tricked you? That’s embarrassing, Gubler.”

Matthew placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “I was misled! Deceived! Here I was, thinking I had met a perfectly normal, unassuming banker, only to find out she’s infiltrating our world.”

She laughed and patted his shoulder before the showrunner called her, leaving you alone with him.

“Nice shoes, by the way,” he said, looking down at your mismatched Converse—one deep red and the other black, matching your red top.

You chuckled. “Thanks. People keep making fun of me on the internet, saying I must've rushed out of the house.”

He laughed and pulled up his pants, revealing his mismatched socks—one purple with yellow dots and the other blue with bananas. “Well, that’s because they’re boring.”

“Oh God, they’re so cool,” you genuinely liked how bizarre they were.

“Hey, I saw your name on the last page of the credits... Did you write those episodes?” he asked, kind of amazed.

“Well, I um... added some minor stuff, really,” you said, lying a little. “Just to make her more sarcastic and fun… like, I can’t wait to get covered in blood for the shots.”

He laughed just as Jack reappeared, clutching his freshly signed Mandy Patinkin autograph like it was the Holy Grail. “I blacked out for half of that conversation, but I think I played it cool.”

“Yeah, sure, if you say so.” You were about to say something more when a producer called for both of you.

With an apologetic smile, you said goodbye to Matthew, but before you turned around, he called out, “Can I get your number this time, or do I have to wish we get cast together again?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you handed him your number. “I guess I’ll wait for your call.”

“You better pick up. There are some scenes I think will need some rehearsal.” His words made your stomach flip, and a flush crept up your face.

Pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling too much, you retorted, “You better be quick. My schedule is full.” That made him chuckle.

The producer called for you again, and you made your way toward him and Jack, still feeling the warmth of the moment lingering. You once promised yourself to not-date-coworkers. Maybe if those coworkers weren’t so funny and handsome you wouldn’t reconsider your own words.

　　　　 　　   .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

If you want to find out more about the CM character click here!

Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

[wineonmytshirt]

Swiftie Sleepover Saturday™️ : A Weekly, Saturday Event for Swifties to Enjoy

Hello all! My name is Jen, and I've been a Swiftie since 2008. I wanted to organize a fun, weekly sleepover event where we can have fun discussions, analyze lyrics, post beautiful edits, take polls, and connect with each other in so many other ways through our love of Taylor and her works of art! Each week will have a new theme or discussion prompt, please post all contributions with:

#Swiftie Sleepover Saturday

If you have any fun suggestions for a theme for one week, feel free to submit them to me via my ask box! Also, if you're a poll or edit blog and want to connect for a special event don't be afraid to send a dm or ask! Some things that will be covered during Swiftie Sleepover Saturday:

Polls

Lyrical Analyses

General Discussion

Current Events

Gif/Edit Post Events

Poetry/Writing/Fanfic Events

Other Special Events

Everyone is welcome, kindness only, please have fun with this! First day will be Saturday, February 8th!

Swiftie Sleepover Saturday Specifics!

Each week the day before Saturday I will post a topic, question, or any other discussion along with some polls and edits that you can feel free to add to and interact with! This is a fun, Swiftie-friendly event that welcomes all and I am thrilled to hear your thoughts on the many topics we're going to cover! These will range from songs to themes to award shows and much more, and I can't wait to to see how you all get into it! You can get involved by posting polls, edits and graphics, text posts, poetry/writing, and anything you want! Some weeks will ask for some of those specific things so stay tuned! Please tag

#Swiftie Sleepover Saturday

Every weekend, the topic can be posted about/discussed for the remainder of the week following, but remember to check in for something new each Saturday!

Please be kind and gentle to those around you. Anyone displaying aggressive, rude, bullying, cruel, or inappropriate behavior will be blocked immediately. THIS IS A SAFE SPACE for all swifties!!!!!!

Some example topics include:

The use of rain in Taylor's lyrics The song Chloe Et Al Grammys Fashion in 2013

If you have any questions or concerns my ask box and dms are always open to you! This is an event meant to create fun. togetherness, and joy. Enjoy!

TAYLOR SWIFT DEBUT VINYL GIVEAWAY

TAYLOR STICKERS

tracking tag doc

[solangeloficawards]

solangelo fic awards 2025!

happy february! as everyone always wants to know, we totaled roughly 130+ fics this year! as the last few years, nominations are split up by post, but you can use the masterdoc for convienence! voting will close february 13th <3

vote here!

masterdoc here

by category:

BEST ANGST

BEST AU

BEST BUDDIES

BEST CANON COMPLIANT

BEST WIP

BEST ONESHOT

BEST FLUFF

BEST MISC

BEST SERIES NOMINATIONS:

a sweet tooth for you by @thebhorror

bar trivia AU by @thebhorror & valhallasoundbox @kotenokk

Clichecore au by Gates_of_Ember @gatesofember

dear reader by @wrongcaitlyn

Percy Jackson and the Olympians Actors AU by @damiphantom

The Di Angelo-Solace Paranormal Case Files: Declassified by Anzojin @theshakykid

and our AUTHOR OF THE YEAR areeee:

HandleWithCare @wordsofasarcast (ao3)

langatism @losergender (ao3)

negativefouriq @mediumgayitalian (ao3)

@pey119 (ao3)

snoelled @snoelledarts (ao3)

@thelordofshrimp (ao3)

@wrongcaitlyn (ao3)

voting guidelines:

voting will close on february 13th so that the winners post can be released on the 14th for valentines day! (for realsies this time i promise it doesnt take me as long as nominations lol)

fics are listed in alphabetical order! if your work didnt make it in, there is most likely a reason! you are welcome to message me about it if you wish though and i can let you know why

if your fic was nominated and counted but is missing on one of the docs, whether its here or the poll or the masterlist, please let me know!! i have missed things and had no idea, its ok! please dont be afraid to let me know i've made a mistake!

same goes for if something shows up twice, fic has already won, links are broken, etc etc!

if one of your works has been submitted, you can promote/mention this but a reminder that there's no prize outside of satisfaction, so dont feel too bad if you didn't win! theres always more years!

you aren’t required to vote if you have been nominated, though it is heavily recommended

you also aren’t required to vote in all categories anymore due to popular request, although we heavily advise that you do in order to keep voter count even

if you have been nominated, you are allowed to vote for yourself. just please also be considerate to others and vote for each category!

the google poll will ask for you to sign in just to ensure that you are only voting once. no emails are being collected! that being said, if you are more comfortable voting through ask/message/etc, feel free!

there is a few questions at the end of the poll, although none of them are required so you’re welcome to skip them if you’d like!

this is all just friendly competition, so everyone have fun! be sure to show the writers some love!!! <3

[blushingbubbles]

last-orgasm storytime -- sorry it took me a bit to write but it is...long

Sooo last night (1/31) was the last orgasm i’ll have for likely all of 2025, and i’m still fuzzy from it.

Still. It’s *checks clock* 6pm as im writing this. Still fuzzy. It happened like 18 hours ago.

The last free orgasm I had was on January 10th, and I didn’t even like it. It was rushed and short and unearned.

On February 1st, I entered long-term denial, and I wanted to cum one last time before it started.

In fact, I wanted to cum so badly that in exchange, I added 180 days to my denial. But because I added those 180 days, I started to fear that the orgasm wasn’t going to be worth it.

The last free orgasm i had sucked. I panicked that this next one would suck too, that I’d traded 180 days of denial just to regret it.

and hahahaha

i would trade 1800 days of denial for what i got on 1/31.

wc: 2600 (lol) | *exempt from forbidden words rules, and if u try to punish me for this post that i worked very hard on i will block you*

⊹₊⟡⋆ leading up ⊹₊⟡⋆

Sir & I talked on the phone for two days prior to the 31st. The first night we just talked, which got me used to his voice in my ear. The second night we talked a bit and played a bit, which made me more comfortable with his instructions & flow in a scene, which was wonderful. I would’ve had a difficult time relaxing with him if it’d been our first time speaking. But it wasn’t. It was our third, so I felt really safe & comfortable going into our call. 

The morning of the 31st I told him about my dream that centered around worshipping his cock. I told him how needy it’d made me. Sent him a picture of how wet I was. He praised me for it...and then told me I wasn’t allowed to touch until he called that night. At all.

Rude. (i kid)

To make matters worse, he sent some incredible nudes with an instruction to look at them once an hour every hour. This left my imaginative mind with some wild running fantasies. Excerpts from our messages started with “god im like whining” /  “you look so soft” end devolved to “it’d be so fuckimg easy for you to breed me” / “wanna be so full of ur cock i struggle breathing Sir” 

Believe it or not, I actually had no problem with not touching – it was like a given. He told me to not touch so even though I was feverishly horny, touching was out of the question.

The thing I had a problem with was the anxiety. It kept trying to convince me that he was going to forget or get distracted or cancel (he touched base about once every other hour to humor my feral messages, which curbed that anxiety well).

When I was making dinner though, the fact i was going to cum for the last time in 2025 that night started to get to me.

The anticipation became too much to sweep under the rug and I decided to tell him. The convo looked like this:

hi | my heart's beating really really fast In a good way I hope! i think im just excited but it does feel like anxiety It's a lot of anticipation. i dont knowwwwni dont know | It's a lot of anticipation Don't worry bubbles, I'm going take good care of you. | I'm adaptable | We'll get you what you need | You needn't worry about it, I'll be there with you and for you

 (i totally cried happy tears)

⊹₊⟡⋆ the beginning ⊹₊⟡⋆

im all fuzzy again lol. Sir called. We chatted about our days and how I was feeling. He asked what I’d laid out (a vibrating egg, a dildo, a clit suction toy). I made a joke about having a hairbrush on my bed, but it was strictly for brushing my hair before he called. He laughed and agreed there was no need for the hairbrush because we’re not in high school anymore.

First, he asked me to spread my legs to the corners of the mattress. Because of my anxiety, he knew without me asking to go really really slowly, and I'm grateful for it. He took time warming me up and talking to me in the first minutes.

He told me to repeat lines back to him -- repeating lines makes me very pliable, and that night was no exception. I might've repeated I like to show off for Sir 20 times. Afterward, Sir wanted me to spread my pussy for him too, so I did.

But then he said, "little more," which made me think he had cameras in my room. I told him this and he reassured me that he didn't. Instead, he's just inside my head. <3

The night is very hazy. I wrote this with a lot of assistance from him, but this is one thing I remember clearly: everything Sir said was a specific instruction.

He didn’t say “I want you to tease yourself” and then wait for me to explain how I teased myself. He said “take your left hand and drag it up the inside of your left thigh. Slower. I’ll give you the rhythm.”

There’s a time and subject for the “I want you to tease yourself.”

I am not the subject. So it's never the time. I’m always afraid I’m doing something wrong, so I ask clarifying questions – “like ___? Or should I _____?”

But each of Sir's instructions were to-the-letter. Because of that, I never had to worry about doing something right or wrong. There was no ambiguity, there was just the instruction.

I'd already surrendered to his dominance, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to turn my brain off entirely.

At first, he didn’t incorporate the toys. It was nails on thighs and fingers spreading wetness around.

In his words, he was playing with his food.

Eventually, eventually, I was allowed to focus on my clit. Even longer after that, I was permitted to insert my fingers. By this point, with the lengths to which he was dragging it out, I started to whine (which was exactly where he wanted me).

After that, the vibrating egg came into play.

⊹₊⟡⋆ the middle ⊹₊⟡⋆

I’d told him the day prior what countdowns do to me and why, and he incorporated them at every milestone of the night.

With the toy still off, Sir told me to run it up and down my slit. Then I had to hold it at my entrance, adding pressure without allowing it inside. He counted me down and allowed me to insert the toy, then counted me down again to turn it on.

I don’t know how it happened. I sincerely – I don’t know. After a while he gave me a break, and I checked my phone to make sure its battery was still alright and found that an hour and a half had passed. He thought my surprise was cute.

In his words: “I'm glad you're having such a good time, but this night is FAR from over."

Sir told me to get my clit suction toy out and lay it on the bed in front of me, as if to tease me. Keeping the toy turned off, he told me to press it where I usually liked it the most. Then he told me to lift it off. Then place it back on.

Once I had a grasp on exactly how to move, he told me once the toy was turned on, he would give me a number, and I'd have to hold the toy on my clit for that many seconds--but he had me do the counting.

We started on low -- the toy has like 8 settings, so the first setting is usually never enough for me to even really feel? But after all the teasing and build up, I thought for a while I might've been able to hit an edge with it.

He made me hold it on for 3 seconds. 7. 15. Between every number, the toy hovered over my clit so I could hear it and feel a whisper of it, but it wasn't enough to give me any sensation or pleasure.

According to him: I demonstrated incredible self control. Despite how good the toy felt, I always put it down when he told me to, and only when he told me to.

He had me turn it up 2 notches, and I'm pretty sure this is where the last of my comprehensive thought left me.

I literally -- it's so hazy after this, I have no idea. I know he toyed with me just like that -- making me count up to 5, 12, then 7, then 3. He continually reminded me that I wasn't allowed to cum. He also reassured me I absolutely wouldn't be punished for pulling the toy off before reaching the requested number.

The most important rule was to wait for him to give me the orgasm--everything else came second.

There was a stretch of time that I was hitting an edge by 1 -- like the moment the vibrator got too close I was chanting I can't, I can't, I can't.

It felt like an eternity of me going absolutely stupid while teetering on the edge of orgasm.

He gave me a water break after the "I can't," chanting, and this was approximately our conversation:

"You can't?" no Sir, I can't "Why can't you?" bc i don't have permission "And you need permission, don't you?" yes Sir i do i need it "You need it because you don't have a choice, isn't that right?" yes Sir that's right, I don't have a choice "Say that again." i don't have a choice, Sir

That last line was repeated 10+ times

It was incredible. He had me edge myself for him. over. and over. and over.

and over.

and over again.

In his words: It was about 38 edges in just as many minutes.

I remember going nonverbal. I remember him telling me to be clear with the numbers, and I recall that being the hardest part -- because my lips and tongue no longer wanted to work. 

Babygirl, you're mumbling again! I need you to speak very clearly into your mic.Yes Sir, i understand

I started to get fuzzy. If you remember the old-school televisions -- whenever you would turn them off, that collection of static hovered across the screen. You could collect the static in your hands?

I felt like I'd swallowed it. That static blanketed my mind. My tongue was numb. My mind was buzzing. I was incoherent. I've never felt anything like it.

⊹₊⟡⋆ the end ⊹₊⟡⋆

From beginning of the call to the orgasm was over 2 hours. 2 hours he teased me. Denied me. Played with me until I was on the edge and made me wait there. I felt what was left of my brain disintegrate. turn to mush. slip out between my thighs.

(thank you Sir for helping me to recall this part)

Babygirl, you've been perfectly obedient for me tonight. (a long drawn-out whine) I'm very proud of you, of your self control. Are you sufficiently fucked out? Is your head all fuzzy now sweet girl? Can you even understand what i'm saying or are you too much of a brainless whore? (generally affirmative and giggly slut noises) I think you've earned your orgasm. *voice cracking* really? You have my permission to cum. We are going to change the rules of play now. Do you understand?  Yes Sir, I understand, thank you.

There was more in there, but I can't remember when -- he asked me if I still wanted it, and i didn't know the answer anymore. I wanted to say yes -- i wanted it so badly, but I was so fuzzy all i could think was only if you want me to.

Like I was no longer in a space that needed the orgasm - i only needed to make him happy.

it was the same game. hold the vibrator on the clit for the number of seconds he wanted. But the rules had changed. This time he would do the counting ( i loved the counting )

and this time, I was allowed to cum.

however -- the count didn't end when I orgasmed. the count ended when the count ended, and I had to keep the vibrator on until then.

he started with 3 seconds. Before this, I'd been hitting the edge in 3 seconds. But knowing I had permission to cum it felt different -- stronger of an edge almost?

The count ended.

Sir stressed again that I was allowed to cum. Then he counted down from 5 seconds? Or maybe it was 10?

The edge was right there, but the orgasm still felt so far away. The release was being stubborn. Maybe my body didn't feel like it was real?

He said again

Babygirl, you're allowed to cum. Sincerely.

Then he counted down from 20, dragging each number out to his liking.

Maybe I was scared of cumming too soon and overstimulating myself? I'm not sure. But my orgasm held and held and held. It did not want to release.

It sat like a boulder on a cliff, just one breath from falling off and giving me what he ordered. But it didn't budge, and there wasn't anything I could do. I was getting upset with myself by the time he hit 12.

When he hit 10, I discovered the issue.

It wasn't enough for him to give me permission to cum beforehand. I needed it while I was on the edge. The realization hit me so hard I would've fallen over had I been standing. With the time counting down, the pleading spilled from me. I don't even remember what came out of my mouth. He told me it was very very pretty though.

He had reached 6.

Please Sir i need your permission, I need you to give me permission again. I need it I need it.

Cum for me babygirl.

Relief was simultaneously like lightning and a flood through me, and it shoved the stubborn boulder right off the cliff.

There were 2 waves to the orgasm. The first wave was on the "5," the second was when he said "2."

After the second one I kind of blacked out a bit.

But I sincerely don't.....recall...all I know was it was (bar none) the most powerful and most perfect orgasm I've ever had <3

⊹₊⟡⋆ after/care ⊹₊⟡⋆

I cried. i had a feeling i would -- the anticipation + my anxiety + the orgasm was a huge release. my tears slipped into my headphones and they started to fizzle and crack out on me. He told me to stay in bed, but I wanted to find my other pair.

He was right to tell me to stay lying down -- I got dizzy when I stood up.  

He praised me for how good of a job I did which made me want to cry even more. I thanked him like a million times. He thanked me a million times, and he told me to drink my juice.

We talked about all 2 hours of the call. From the teasing to the egg to the counting to the vibrator to the permission to the begging. He filled in some hazy spots I'd already forgotten in my edged-out state.

I stressed that I wouldn't have changed a single thing about it. I had a lollipop, and i fell asleep talking to him on the phone. IT WAS PERFECT AND IM SO GLAD I TRADED 180 DAYS OF DENIAL FOR IT I'D DO IT AGAIN IN A HEARTBEAT.

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (1/8)

So I posted about this idea before here, (and was overwhelmed by the response—thank you!) but basically a cat café opened near me and inspired this:

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: M (will be E); No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst; (It won't get tooooo angsty, I promise, and I should probably write a shorter version, but this seemed to want to get bedded in for some plot, so...) read on A03 and thank you @lexirosewrites for being so patient with my weird belated questions about what do with my idea!

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 1

Steve clocked in with Carol at the coffee counter and cosied up on a beanbag waiting for the first customer to arrive. He couldn’t stop yawning and struggled to keep his eyes open.

He didn’t usually work the Monday morning graveyard shift at ‘Kitties’—otherwise known as the Omega Café. Carol usually put him on the weekends, which were their busiest times. Plenty of Alphas—and sometimes Betas—were free then, to pass an hour with a cute Omega purring in their lap.

For a cost, naturally.

Steve, though, had called in sick yesterday and needed to make up his lost earnings. He’d been in heat. So, three days of cold sweats, congealed slick, and crippling cramps. At least the blockers he used for this job curbed his desperation to be fucked. All the same, a dull gnawing pain in his pelvis persisted, he’d barely slept and…

…Ugh, this beanbag was, if anything, too inviting and soft.

He’d gotten his most comfy, stretchy shorts on, his most butter-soft collar, and an only-slightly-cropped-at-the-midriff vest. His feet were bare, which was fortunate. Right now, only his icicle toes were keeping him awake. He was tempted to grab one of the many fluffy blankets scattered around the café, pull it up over him and snooze.

He was torn between asking Carol for a double espresso or napping—to be fair, it was unlikely anybody would join them till noon—when the bell on the door tinkled.

So much for a peaceful snooze.

Fortunately, rather than a hungover Alpha, Robin burst in. On spotting Steve, her shoulders sagged with obvious relief. She hurried up to the counter and presented Carol with her Apple-Pay. “Flat white with an extra shot, and an hour of kitty cuddles, please.”

“Sure.” The payment bleeped through, and Carol turned to grind the coffee beans. She never bothered with great customer service for Steve’s best friend. That said, customer service wasn’t Carol’s strength at the best of times. Steve liked that about her. For an Omega, she was a bitey feral, and she sure had their boss, Tommy, under her claw.

Robin sat down at a table, pulled a cushion onto her lap. Steve shuffled over on his knees and laid his head on the cushion:

“Jesus, Robin,” he whispered, as she started to pet his hair. It was usual practice for Omegas to wait till the customer spoke first, but this was, well, Robin. “You don’t have to pay to see me, you know that?”

“Apparently, I do, Dingus! I’ve been going out of my mind! Why didn’t you return my, like, billion texts?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Her fretful pettings only made him feel more guilty. “I’m out of data, and you know how shit Wi-Fi is in Sunshine Village. Plus, I had really bad cramps this month—I could barely crawl out of bed this morning.”

“Yeah, I guessed that. God, I’m sorry, too.” She slowed her strokes, as they both relaxed a little. “I worry about you all the time, living there. Working here. I wish I could take you home with me. Damn, I should rent somewhere you’re actually allowed to live.”

“No way. I’m fine, Robin. Seriously, I’ve landed on my feet. I like having my own little home. The heating is working in my block this week, and this is a pretty cushy gig.”

Steve didn’t even say that for the benefit of Carol, who’d just dumped Robin’s coffee on the table, slopping half of it into the saucer.

Steve had arrived in the city four months ago, down to his last few dollars. He’d soon realized that acceptable Omega jobs—teaching assistant, nanny, seamstress, junior positions in retail and catering—would all require handing over too much information about himself. He’d also swiftly discovered that Sunshine Village, the district he’d heard about where single Omegas could live unmolested, was little better than a slum.

He’d been caught between the terrifying choices of fleeing back home, starving, or sex work. Then he’d stumbled across this place.

If Tommy had checked the fake name Steve gave, he hadn’t cared. Steve got paid in cash after each shift and earned enough to rent a small place in the Village. Which, despite its shabbiness, turned out to be full of friendly, supportive Omegas.

It all meant he didn’t have to worry about Robin being evicted from her pleasant ‘beta’ neighbourhood for harbouring an unregistered Omega.

Robin chatted on, while sipping the remnants of her coffee and petting Steve idly. While she complained about how unfair the world was for Omegas—they’d met when Steve had turned up at an Omega soup-kitchen she volunteered at—her speech also underlined his point.

His life could be a shitload worse.

This morning, he was being paid for his best friend to give him much-needed bodily contact in a no-strings-attached fashion. While he didn’t have to force fake purrs for her, like he did for the majority of customers, soft sleepy purring happened anyhow.

After Robin left for work, the café was empty again. Carol made them both hot chocolate then turned her attention to doing her nails. Steve breakfasted on an out-of-date lemon muffin, which was still nice and gooey in the middle, then slipped out to the washroom for the second time since Robin left. He needed to re-check his hair.

He was reapplying his eyeliner, when he heard the bell tinkle again.

So much for the ‘graveyard’ shift. He pinched his pale cheeks, bracing himself to face whoever wanted to cuddle him next.

A high-pitched squeal from Carol pierced Steve’s hearing—one that was probably only audible to other Omegas.

And the scent snatched his breath.

The Omega café was flushed with scent-neutralising air fresheners, for obvious reasons. Whoever this Alpha was, his musk was potent enough to punch straight through. It nearly floored Steve with low notes of leather and woodsmoke, and high notes of… Christ, Steve didn’t know what that was.

Plums? Fine Californian wine?

It set his mouth watering, for all of a split second.

Carol! Was she okay?

He rushed from the washroom and peeped from behind a thick velour curtain.

Carol was fine. She was taking payment from an Alpha with long, slightly-frizzy retro hair, a jean jacket—who the fuck wore those?—and dark soulful eyes.

Steve’s heart rate spiked.

The Alpha was pretty damn good-looking, and young too, maybe only a year or so older than Steve.

He was also faintly familiar.

Did Steve know him from back home? Would he recognise Steve?

“So, how does this work?” asked the newcomer. His drawling accent sent a shiver down Steve’s spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him… and that definitely wasn’t a North County accent. Steve relaxed slightly, ogling the guy who was literally setting both his and Carol’s legs wobbling.

“You pay up front for an hour of kitty cuddles,” she said. “You have to order a minimum of one drink, and all new customers must read and sign our rules and disclaimers.”

“Ma’am, it’s Monday morning.” The Alpha sounded wearily amused, gesturing to the three-page fine-print document she shoved across the counter. “Do I really have to read all this?”

“How about I summarize for you.” Yup, Carol was being helpful and polite. Either someone kidnapped the real Carol, or this Alpha really was special. “You’re not about to go into rut, I take it? Because if you are, Sir, I’m really, really sorry—we can’t take that risk here, or we could get shut down.”

The Alpha shook his head. While Carol reeled off a few pertinent points—“no scenting, obviously. No kissing,”—his gaze snapped onto where Steve skulked, half-hidden behind the drapes.

Steve jumped back out of sight.

“Soooo,” said the Alpha, when Carol finally stopped talking. “To summarise—I can stroke the pussies, but I can’t stroke the pussies?”

Carol giggled. Though they’d all heard that joke, and every variation on it, at least a billion times.

“Pretty much,” she said. “We’re absolutely NOT a brothel. And don’t expect cat-ears and whiskers and all that jazz. Thursday is usually full-costume night, and… erm, right now, we only have one kitty, and he seems to have strayed. Boy kitty okay with you?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” said the Alpha.

“Cool. I’ll go coax him out with a saucer of milk or something.”

She found Steve backed up against the dingy back-corridor wall, knees basically jello. “Get out there! Christ, you do realize who that is?”

Steve shook his head, throat too tight to speak. He honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him. Alphas moseyed in and out of this place every day. He was usually able to keep himself together.

“It’s Eddie Munson! Lead singer of Corroded Coffin? Super-hot and super-famous bad-boy Alpha rockstar? Jeeees, you really did live in a box till you got here, didn’t you? Look, get out there—before I tell him boy kitty is off the menu, grab my skimpiest bikini, and burrow into that scorching lap myself.”

She nudged him through the curtain. Eddie Munson had already settled onto one of the cafe’s roomiest couches, arms splayed along the back.

Legs splayed too.

Eddie glanced up and those gorgeous eyes raked Steve, head-to-toe, stripping him so bare he might as well have forgotten his shorts. The Alpha’s grin spread slowly, revealing glinting incisors, and creasing up into the sexiest dimples Steve had ever seen.

Steve wasn’t sure how he made it across the room. Somehow, he did, shuffling the final few feet on his knees.

“Hello, Kitty,” said Eddie. Possibly taking pity, he closed his legs. He shoved his thighs forward so Steve could easily lay his head in them.

Steve did so, facing out across the café. His heart skittered like a little prey animal’s. It was only then that he realized Eddie hadn’t placed a cushion on his thighs. Well, if Carol hadn’t highlighted that part of the rules, Steve was hardly in a position to do it now.

Eddie didn’t mess around. Strong fingers plowed straight into the springy mass of Steve’s hair. “What’s your name, Honey?”

“Uh… St-steve?”

Who fucking stammers answering his own name?

“Hi, Steve. I’m Eddie.” He leaned a little closer, hot breath joining those strong fingers to send Steve even deeper into fluster. “How do you put up with the stink in here? I mean, I get it. All those Alpha-Omega scents battering each other would make this place a real fleshpot. Shame, though. I bet you smell real sweet. I mean, I think I get a whiff of you, even now.”

“You get used to it,” squeaked Steve, cutting that line of conversation off pronto.

“You get used to the diabolical plinky-plonky piano music too, Steve?”

“Honestly, I don’t even hear it anymore.”

To be fair, Steve didn’t hate the perpetual loop of movie theme-tune classics for exactly that reason. Even the smoochiest love songs—like the instrumental version of “Everything I do, I do it for you,” currently playing—didn’t mess with his emotions in the way music so often did.

Eddie snorted a dry chuckle, leaning back against the cushions again. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You’re right, Steve,” drawled Eddie, massaging deliciously into Steve’s scalp, “it’s pretty easy not to hear it. You have got the cutest purr.”

Steve’s eyes flew wide. He hadn’t even realized he was purring yet! Yeah, he could fake purr, but he’d been too befuddled to get to that. Now, he shook with loud rattling purrs that he could barely control.

Omegas purred when they were happy and relaxed, and also when distressed, to comfort themselves. He’d been reduced to that over the weekend. These purrs, though, grew couch-quakingly loud and felt different from anyway he’d purred before.

“You okay there, Honey?” Thank heavens Eddie was nice, though that made Steve’s weirdness all the more inexplicable. Eddie ran the back of coolish fingers down Steve’s burning cheek.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Steve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His hormones must still be doing weird things after his chemically fucked-up heat.

He probably should’ve called in sick today too.

“Don’t apologise,” Eddie said. “Look, it’s freakin’ Monday morning. I’m the weirdo Alpha checking this place out. You’re just doing your job, and you’re mighty fine at it, I’m sure.” The words washed through Steve, their brutal truth leaving an awkward residue. “Listen, I’m just gonna sip my coffee and chill. You reckon you can chill too, little kitty?”

“Yes, Alpha,” murmured Steve. The preening growl that jostled from Eddie was enough to make Steve desperate to obey.

He didn’t usually call anybody Alpha on the job. It wasn’t strictly against the rules, but unless a client demanded it—and only the real a-holes did—the kitties avoided it.

Eddie, though, had dragged it from Steve before he could think about it, much like those purrs.

And much like how, a minute or so of petting later, Steve found himself purring effortlessly, and totally relaxed. He wasn’t even stressed by the fact that his cheek rested dangerously close to Eddie’s Alpha dick. Which appeared to be ballooning slightly beneath his thick pair of sweatpants.

This was exactly why the cushions were compulsory. Though Steve barely had time to worry.

“Steve,” said Eddie, fingering around the edge of Steve’s collar in a fashion that literally made Steve’s eyes cross with yumminess. “Are there any rules against you getting in my lap for proper cuddles?”

“No. Absolutely not.” There really wasn’t, though of course, it only worked with the larger Alphas. There’d been no way Steve could’ve fitted into a Beta like Robin’s lap, for example, without some level of squishing. Eddie was, to be fair, not the largest Alpha around, but he was certainly large enough.

After some not-too-awkward manoeuvring—and guided by Eddie’s hand in the small of his back—Steve soon found himself sitting across Eddie’s lap. Eddie scooped him close, and his arms curled around Eddie’s neck.

He stared point-blank into the fathomless depths of Eddie’s dark eyes. Nope. Too much. He dipped his gaze, then squeaked. Now, he fixed on Eddie’s jawline and throat, dusted with scruff, and which drew him like, well, catnip.

Steve inhaled oaky-smoky plums and… Holy crap, what even was that? He was in serious danger of burying his face there and violating the no-scenting rule himself.

Once again, Eddie sensed his discomfort and guided Steve’s head down onto his shoulder, holding him there. “Hey, any chance of another coffee,” Eddie called to Carol. “Extra-large mocha with marshmallows, please, Ma’am? Think I might be settling here for a while.”

After that, Eddie appeared to go out of his way to make Steve even more comfortable. Perhaps noting Steve’s squirmings over getting too close to his scent gland, he slid a thin throw cushion beneath Steve’s cheek. He then settled them both back against the comfiest, most enveloping part of the sofa. He pulled one of those fluffy blankets up over them both. Soon, a floaty weariness, bone-deep but pleasant, overcame Steve.

Even his ovaries had stopped bugging him. God, this was nice. He really got paid for this? Damn, he’d fallen on his feet and Eddie smelled divine. He couldn’t help but daydream about that huge Alpha dick nestled stupid-close to his pussy, with only two layers of fabric between them. He was too sleepy to get too excited, tho’. He soon floated on the surface of a calm ocean, safe and serene…

When Steve began waking up, a honeyed glow saturated his head and heart and previously aching pelvis. He couldn’t remember his dreams, but they must’ve been good ones. He felt complete and happy and… he flicked his eyes open. Oh shit! The cafe buzzed with conversation. Several other kitties had come on shift and were snuggling with Alphas.

He’d fallen asleep on a customer’s lap.

Steve’s focus snapped onto the clock behind the counter, where Carol and her assistant, Chrissy, who also did kitty duties, were rushing around making lunches.

1.57 pm.

He’d been asleep on the job for nearly three hours.

Asleep in the lap of…

“Hey there,” drawled Eddie, “somebody’s a sleepy kitty.”

Steve daren’t look up. Was Eddie pissed? He didn’t sound it.

Steve opened his mouth. Shut it again, dabbing the corner. His head had slipped off the pillow and rested against Eddie’s chest. The Alpha’s booming heartbeat mingled with an amused chuckle.

Steve wasn’t laughing: “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I drooled on your t-shirt!”

“I know.” Eddie’s low rumbling sigh was one of the most contented sounds Steve had ever heard. “You gonna charge extra for that, Honey?”

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ I have got quite a bit of this fic drafted, so hopefully more soon. If you’re enjoying, please let me know, or like and reblog... it means a lot to know somebody would like to read more *purrs hopefully* and thank you soooo much for reading this far 💚

[sibyllinebooks]

OKOK BSF STILES WHEN ANOTHER GUY IS LIKE ACTIVELY HITTING ON U INFRONT OF HIM AND HES ALL JEALOUS.

okok so i feel like bsf!stiles and bf!stiles are different types of jealous hear me out. also this isn’t like being hit on directly in front of him but this is what came out when i sat down to write so i’m sorry if you wanted smth different :/

bsf! stiles who knows he has absolutely no claim to you romantically, but still abhors the thought of someone that isn’t him being with you in a romantic context.

bf! stiles who is insanely possessive over you and borderline more territorial than any of his literal werewolf friends ( i’ll elaborate in another post )

imagine if you’re at school, fiddling with your locker because the stupid thing just won’t budge and before you can open your mouth to cuss it out, a voice asks if you need help.

you spin, startled, but smile as you take in an unfamiliar face. a new kid, more than likely, and you accept with a grateful smile. after fiddling with it for a few seconds he yanks it free and you thank him, offering him a tour of the school in return as a thank you.

and he’s nice. he listens to your ramblings about certain teachers and which people to avoid and where to sit at lunch and the best places to hide if you want to skip class. he laughs at your jokes and offers you soft smiles that would make any other girl practically melt at the sight.

as you’re walking to class stiles rounds the corner and you beam, jumping at the opportunity to introduce the new kid to someone else so he isn’t entirely a fish out of water. and stiles can see the way he looks at you. the guy’s eyes are alight with a curious fascination as they flicker between you and he can see the moment he decides the two of you are just friends. when he decides stiles isn’t a threat to the plans he seems to be making.

his jaw sets in a firm line, greeting him casually but there’s something hard in the tone of his voice that you can’t exactly pinpoint. it makes you pout, because why is stiles being so decidedly unfriendly? it isn’t like your best friend to dismiss someone out of hand unless he has a damn good reason. and from what you know, he’s never met this guy before in his life. instead of questioning it the way you want to, you shrug it off and tell stiles you’ll see him later. maybe he’s just having a bad day. he mumbles a goodbye and you return it half-heartedly, turning back to your companion.

little do you know, stiles tracks you all day. he watches you as the guy openly flirts and you don’t seem to reject his advances. he watches as you direct him to sit with him and the pack at lunch. he watches, and that ugly green-eyed monster in the pit of his stomach grows. he’s practically livid but he hides it well to the untrained eye. and he watches at the end of the day as the guy asks you out. he doesn’t stay to hear your answer.

it’s all he thinks about at practice, the scenes replaying in his head at a torturous pace and his annoyance is on full display. it’s a distraction, one that gets him berated by coach more than once, even earns him questioning looks from his teammates and an interrogation from scott.

he’s not upset at you. god, how could he be? you’re perfect. smart and pretty and kind and loyal and utterly captivating. he knows that it’s inevitable for someone else to see you the way he does. he just wishes he’d have actually done something about it. but he doesn’t even know if you feel the same way. and he isn’t going to ruin the friendship you two have just because he was the idiot who fell in love.

( part 2?? maybe?? do we want it?? )

[lilylushes]

idk if u take requests but like... jealous lulu?? i need this in my life pls

I made it smutty AF hope that's okay lol

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

“Do you want another drink, baby?” your boyfriend, Luigi asked you, his hand around your waist and mouth touching your ear so you could hear him through the loud music at the bar.

“Yes, please - just another vodka cran would be amazing.” You turned your head to give him a quick kiss.

“Be right back, okay?” he smiles and gives your ass a small slap, walking over to the bar.

You turn back to your friends but they must have gone to the bathroom. You wait at your cocktail table alone, but not for long. A man comes up to you, beginning to flirt with you and asking you questions about what you do, what you like, etc.

“I’m sorry, I’m flattered, but I have a boyfriend who I’m very happy with.”

“Bet he doesn’t treat you as good as I would,” he says, moving towards you and putting his hand on your ass, causing you to back away.

“You have two seconds to get the hell out of this bar before I kick your ass.” You realize that Luigi has returned with your drink. The man removes his hand from you, exchanging a couple of remarks with your boyfriend, before leaving.

“Sorry that happened, baby. Finish that and let’s get out of here, okay?” he leans down to talk into your ear.

For the rest of the time you spend at the bar, Luigi becomes extra protective of you, not leaving your side, always touching you, and asking if you’re okay about once every thirty seconds. His tone is serious and his voice is deep.The alcohol is taking effect and you’re just fine with it, even turned on by it.

On the Uber ride home, Luigi holds your hand, but seems tense. The closer you get to your place, the farther up your thigh your and Luigi’s hands go.

“I’m gonna change, take my makeup off, and go to bed, okay?” you whisper to him as you arrive.

“Yeah, bed sounds great.”

Once you reach your bedroom, before you can go to the bathroom, Luigi grabs you.

“Y/N, you know I don’t like getting jealous, but I couldn’t help it when that creep was talking to you tonight.” he says in a deep, almost groaning voice. His hand goes to your waist and brings you close to him. You can feel tightness in his pants.

You wrap your hands around your boyfriend’s neck. “Lu, you know you’re my one and only. Nobody would make me turn my head. I love you and you’re stuck with me as long as you want, okay?” you smiled at him.

But he wasn’t in that kind of mood. As you leaned in to give him a peck, he crashed your lips together, going into a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. You explored each other’s mouths, ripping off one another’s clothes while you came up for air. Your hands were all over each other, and your kisses swallowed your loud moans.

“On your knees, baby - now.” You knew you were in for some mind blowing sex whenever he got this dominant. You sank to your knees, eyes remaining locked with his. He removed his boxers, allowing his hard cock to spring free.

“Suck me off, baby. Show me what that mouth can do, okay?”

You pump him in your hand for a couple of strokes, licking his veins and playing with his tip and precum.

“I said suck, baby, not tease. You know I cum fast when you do that.”

You let out a flirty, moaning laugh, before taking him into your mouth as far as you could, causing him to gasp.

“God, baby, that mouth is gonna be the death of m- fuck,” he moans, closing his eyes.

You continue blowing him while he has his hands in your hair, occasionally sucking his balls and teasing his tip, which made him drop a series of expletives every time. You look up at him while you suck him off, driving him crazy.

“Those eyes, baby, ugh, I’m gonna cum seeing you on your knees and looking up at me like this while you suck my cock. Yeah, you like having this cock in your mouth?”

You suck him more intensely and passionately, moaning every time you take him. He begins to thrust his cock into your throat.

“Gonna come for you, baby, you’re gonna swallow it all, okay?” he struggles between moans.

You moan to acknowledge him, which also causes his release. He brings your head to the base of his cock, grunting while his cum spills down your throat.

He brings his thumb to your chin, the rest of his hand helping to tilt it upwards.

“Show me.”

You open your mouth, still staring into his eyes innocently, showing him that you’ve taken all of his seed.

“Good girl, always such a good girl for me.” He brings his hand out to help you up before holding your face and bringing you in for a passionate kiss. 

“I love you so much, y/n. Let me show you how much, okay?” he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Get on the bed, baby,” he whispers.

You follow his directions, putting your head on the pillow. He climbs on top of you, kissing you some more while his hands explore the upper half of your body.

“Lu,” you moan, “need you.”

“I know, baby, I just want to worship every part of you. But what my good girl wants, she gets,” he comes up for another kiss.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he says, breaking away and bringing himself to your core.

With that, he wraps his arms around each of your thighs and licks your folds, making you moan. He looks up at you to gauge how good his tongue is making you feel.

“Mmm, love my baby’s pussy so much. You taste so good, dolcezza.”

He takes his right hand to insert 2 fingers into your hole, causing you to clench immediately.

“Gonna cum, baby? Could anyone else make you feel this good, yeah? That fucking douchebag?” while his fingers curl in your cunt, his mouth continues working on your clit.

“N-n-no” is all you can get out. Your moans become louder and stronger.

“Please let me come, Lu, baby, please.” you say, holding onto his curls.

“Go ahead, baby, cum on my mouth, wanna taste my baby girl’s cum.”

With that, you release onto his mouth, making him moan too. He laps up all of your juices before coming back up to your level.

“Mine. All mine.” he says with a smile. You take your index finger to wrap around his chain, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Can you please fuck me now, Lu? Need your cock inside me, need you to fill me up with your cock and cum.”

“Of course, baby. Been waiting to do this all night. You look so hot, had me hard for you all night, just thinking about fucking you the whole time.” 

He lines himself up to your entrance, sliding in slowly, causing both of you to moan while looking into each other’s eyes.

After allowing you to adjust for a few seconds, he begins thrusting in and out at a fast pace. He leans down to connect your foreheads

“You’re mine baby. Fucking mine.”

“I’m all yours, Lu. Only yours.” you tell him with your hands on the sides of his face.

Hearing this made Luigi quicken his thrusts even more. You can tell that he’ll cum soon. He takes your legs from wrapping around his hips and brings them as far back as they’ll go. The new angle has you a moaning mess on the edge of orgasm.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asks, gazing into your soul.

“Yours” you moan.

“Say my fucking name, baby.” he replies in a deep, serious voice.

“Yours Luigi, This pussy belongs to you. Nobody could ever fuck me as good as you do.”

He lets out a noise that you can only describe as animalistic, before his thrusts get sloppy.

“Cum with me baby, okay? Love making my pretty girl cum on this cock.”

You unravel beneath him, moaning and gasping, which triggers his own release. He thrusts into you a few more times, pushing his cum up into your cunt, before laying down beside you and bringing you into his chest.

“You’re mine, baby. Can’t live without you. I love you so much.” he takes your hand and kisses it before interlocking your fingers.

“I love you too, baby,” you reply.

[revelboo]

The question has to be asked. For every human they suddenly find on the lost light. Does brainstorm get smacked for it? I think it'd be funny if a count was kept like that

(Juat smth stupid that I'm giggling over while goofy on sleep meds)

He really should be smacked for every “surprise, here’s a human”

My Way Pt 3

Brainstorm x Reader

• “See? I’m already better at this than half the crew,” he calls out to Perceptor as you just stare at him with wide eyes. Maybe you’re defective and can’t vocalize? “You know, these things are kind of cute in an ugly way.” Can feel the frantic beat of your heart against his servos and honestly, he doesn’t get the obsession. Why fuss over and dote on these weird, little organics? Oh. You’re making a noise now. Kind of a high pitched wheezing.

• Frozen as the giant monster talks about you to the other monster like you’re not even there, he glances at the other one and as soon as those yellow optics aren’t staring a hole in you, the terror paralyzing you shatters. Screaming like you’re being bloodily dismembered and he almost drops you, jarring you into biting your tongue as your heart feels like it stops for a moment. “Your skills are astonishing. I’m sure even you can keep one little human alive,” the other mutters before disappearing.

• “Just had to scream, didn’t you? Look, you appear to be an adult. Probably. So I’ll make sure you have access to food and water and you don’t embarrass me,” he growls, watching you wince and touch your mouth. “That was embarrassing me, by the way.” And you’ve still got a hand over your mouth. Did you hurt yourself? How? Those tiny teeth look blunt. Venting, he carries you back to his habsuite and pulls a slightly used cleaning cloth from his subspace, putting you down and dropping it on top of you. Watching you struggle free before your wide eyes dart around and land on the vent. Can he be held accountable if you get in there? Probably. “I wouldn’t. Unless puréed by a fan is how you want to go out.”

• Shivering as the giant walks past you and sits at a desk, apparently wholly unconcerned about you crawling into the vent to purée yourself anyway despite his warning. And it occurs to you that you really don’t want to be on the floor considering how big he is. Especially his peds. Feeling like a toddler, you edge closer to him, head tipped back to study him. If he meant to hurt you, he would have by now, right? You’re pretty sure he’d only almost dropped you because you’d screamed in his face. If there’s more giant monsters, you need to at least buddy up to one of them for safety. Right? “Can I not be on the floor? Please?”

• So you can talk. Leaning to look down at you, he reaches out a hand and you shy away. “You want up here?” Looking miserable, you come closer and climb into his hand and it’s so disconcerting how tiny and breakable you are. Making him feel almost bad about the one Whirl has. How has it survived this long? “There,” he murmurs, lifting you to his desk and tipping his hand to get you to slide out of his palm, because you’re unsettlingly soft and warm. “If you eliminate on my desk, I’ll put you in the vent myself,” he adds as you just stare up at him. Ugly cute. “I’m Brainstorm by the way. Just sit there and don’t touch anything while I work.” Pulling up a schematic he’d been working on, because designing weapons calms him and right now his processor is a mess. No getting back to recharge until he works off the nervous energy. Didn’t want or need a human. What good are you anyway except to get in the way? Servos stilling when you wander closer, staring up at him, little expression serious. “What? Blinded by how handsome I am?” And still frowning up at him, you wrinkle your nose and shake your head. Okay, that’s just hurtful.

Previous

I apologize in advance if anything else I post today is badly in need of editing. In my defense, the grocery store had my wine in stock for once

[yoichiin]

isagi yoichi's fluff alphabet !! (from a to k)

as stated, it's a fluff alphabet for isagi!

no notable warnings. gn!reader. fluff. second person pov.

note : first post !! i kind of repeat myself im ngl but it's okay probably. also no j because i couldn't think of anything sillying

a is for activities (what does he do in his free time with you?) :

isagi is somewhat of a simpleton. his life is eat, sleep, soccer so the things he does with you reflect that. if you feel like switching it up, you’ll have to tell him directly.

when he does have free time with you, quiet cozy days in or spontaneous brunches on the weekends are his go-tos. they’re simple, yes, but with yoichi, less is always more. he isn’t the type of person to find value in super extravagant outings and in his mind, the memories that ring loudest are the mundane things that no one else seems to remember. so even though his heart aches when you don’t recall the late night conversations when he fell in love with you for the first time, isagi doesn’t mind. the warm winter naps and simple mornings over not-very-luxurious breakfasts may melt like snowflakes in your memory but as long as you’re content in that moment, it’s all he could ask for.

b is for beauty (what does he find most beautiful in a partner? what is his favorite part, inside and out?):

the simple answer that yoichi says is someone with a nice smile and laughs a lot. the real answer is a bit more complicated. 

as someone who has observed and analyzed his whole life, he’s noticed the kind of glow joy seems to have on people. from the small perk of the shoulders to laughing so hard you feel like throwing up—this phenomena sings to isagi. the existence of real, visible, audible emotion.

when he’s on the pitch with his teammates there’s a fire in every one of their eyes—all-consuming like the sun. it’s that light that pulled him into blue lock in the first place. the joy of victory, of evolution and change. seeing all of these emotions on someone’s face is yoichi’s favorite thing about human connection and he treasures it with his life. 

(and he likes thighs too, i guess.)

c is for comfort (how does he help his s/o when they’re sad or overwhelmed?):

it’s a nice surprise that isagi’s soccer awareness translates well into relationships. he can assess your state immediately and run to your side and comfort you with verbal affirmations. his words are so real and from the depths of his soul, it’d almost be an insult to call them sweet nothings. 

yoichi’s feelings come out as easy as gentle wind upon autumn leaves, even philosophical at times. if you weren’t overwhelmed by your own emotions, you’d be racking your brain a bit trying to figure out his. it gets theoretical to the point where it flies over your head but that’s how you know it’s genuine. no matter how he layers his words, his intentions remain clear. “it is a privilege learning to understand you.”

d is for dreams (how do they picture a future with their s/o?):

before isagi got with you, he had never imagined being in a relationship. not like he didn’t want one but it just slipped his mind. his first love is soccer, through and through. he thought he never needed anything else.

still, his vision has always been simple. win the world cup, become the greatest striker in the world, and now you’re there too. when you’re with such a simpleton, he’ll always have space for you in his future and now that he’s got you, you’re never leaving.

e is for equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or passive?):

as much as i want to be self-indulgent and say that isagi would be submissive, i think he leans towards being dominant in a relationship.

perhaps before blue lock, when he was unsure of his ideals, he’d follow his partner with no question. but that’s not the person he wants to be. now that blue lock has reassured the things he’s been thinking for years, he likes being in control, leading, and making decisions. he doesn’t disrespect you or dismiss you, of course, but yoichi feels most secure when he voices his opinions freely and decides things for himself. yoichi can lose sight of you at times because of this so your relationship might have to be negotiated to be more equal but in a way where he doesn’t have to compromise his values.

f is for fight (how does he argue? how do you work through your problems?):

while isagi is good at voicing his thoughts, he’s a little too good. his thoughtful words and passionate soccer theories can quickly turn into paralyzing venom when he’s angry and it comes out in hyper-specific insults that pierce some of your deepest insecurities. fights happen infrequently but when they’re bad, they’re bad. he’s not so stubborn that he’ll drag on a fight but he says things so out of turn, it leaves you needing space.

recovering after these arguments takes a lot of time and talking and trying your hardest to understand each other. it’s hard to make sense of everything isagi is thinking because he thinks so much, but know, after all is said and done, he wants you two to come out of these fights stronger.

gentle (how gentle is he, physically or emotionally?):

as good as he is with his words, isagi doesn’t really know much about physical affection. he’s gentle the way a child takes care of a pet or baby, cautious and a bit eager. you can feel his nerves travel up your spine as he hesitantly puts a hand on the small of your back to hold you. though awkward, it just makes it even more endearing.

h is for honesty (what’s something he keeps secret? any rules for honesty?):

isagi doesn’t have any specific rules when it comes to honesty. obviously, he wants you to trust him but if there’s something you want to keep to yourself, it’s fine with him and he’ll do the same. 

i is for inspiration (a trait about him that you might look up to):

how much he thinks. isagi’s mind is an endlessly growing puzzle—a garden of ideas and theories he’s been nurturing like he’s been at it for fifty years. you watch him in awe as he sits studying a match, eyes slightly squinted and nose all scrunched up. yoichi’s constantly redefining and reorganizing his thoughts and you can’t help but giggle when you say something random and he perks up with what you’re sure is a fresh idea. his drive is a beacon not just for his rivals but for you as well.

k is for kiss (what was the first kiss like?):

i imagine your first kiss is after a match. isagi has shot the winning goal and both of you are full of excitement and adrenaline you don’t realize what you’re doing. after swimming past all of his teammates surrounding him and seeing you in the front stands, he’s so overwhelmed he pulls you in for a kiss. it’s warm, exceedingly so, and a little awkward, noses softly bumping against each other. yoichi’s hair is somewhat stringy from his sweat while his face glistens under the stadium lights as you realize what has just happened.

truth be told, he’d been stressing himself out wanting to kiss you and he revealed he’d have rather done it in a smaller, more secluded place but his red cheeks while he bashfully explains himself is too cute that you go in for another peck between his brows.

fin.