#it is way too early for this shit but here i am.

[lost-estradiographer]

I

know that voting for the status quo sucks.

To say it "sucks" massively understates the exact amount of suffering that exists under the status quo, an amount that I acknowledge I am too privileged to ever fully grasp.

I cannot magically provide some viable third-party candidate just barely a month before the election. I cannot solve Israel/Palestine Conflict that has haunted the world for over 70 years. I am a 29-year old transgender woman working her way through her own mental illnesses, trauma, and an undergraduate degree. I was never going to be the one to solve anything here.

All I can tell you is that regardless of whether you vote or not, there will be a presidential election. It's going to be a shitshow, regardless. Whether you vote or not, there will be a different president in January. Voting for the status quo may not be directly in your interests.

We had four years of Trump and we are still trying to unfuck ourselves from that. The beginning of my antagonistic relationship with the government was protesting in the streets of DC under his administration. I've fled from the Metro PD. I've put on a change of clothes and slipped out the back door of a gay sports bar.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Honestly, I

I don't want to see this voter apathy shit anymore.

People are going to keep dying under any president. Any president can, and probably wil, be morally culpable for the deaths of innocent people, both in the country and abroad. Carter might be the last president we had that wasn't overtly a war criminal and we still had foreign civilians killed by U.S. military involvement under the Carter admin.

I'm torn between asking you to block me, or asking you to message me, if you're taking the route of voter apathy. I'll tell you right away, here and now, that I probably don't have a solution to whatever problem is keeping you from voting for Harris. I can't even solve my own problems right, tbh. The government isn't really here for me, either.

But there isn't going to be some sort of miraculous revolution that results in The Ending Where Everyone Lives. If there's a revolution, then supply chains will falter and children and the infirm will die of preventable diseases and infections and complications in hospitals that would have otherwise been able to easily deal with such things. That's what happens in a revolution. I'm after the long-term idea where Humanity as a species lives. I'm after the route where we don't have an ending, we keep going.

Fucking vote, because exactly one of the two leading presidential candidates believes climate change is real, and it is the single greatest threat to all life on earth. We have spent the past 250 years, not just playing God with the environment, but actively creating an ecological niche in which future generations of humanity must continue to play God with the environment, dragging it back to a healthy place drop by drop, inch by inch, a degree at a time.

Or, I mean, don't vote. Either way, we'll all die at some point. Perhaps some of us will be lucky enough to die standing by our principles.

Those lucky few will become soil one day, just like I will.

I am begging you on my hands and knees to fucking vote, though, because our options are The Status Quo vs. Worse. That's

That's it.

There is no door number three right now. Our system, our flawed and broken and imbalanced and unjust system, does not accommodate for a third door. Whether you vote or not, you will be dragged through either Door 1 or Door 2 with all of humanity, as we whirl through the cosmos upon our tiny little speck of dust. The only other legitimate option is to allow oneself to become trampled; to become soil early. I don't say legitimate to give this option legitimacy, but to make clear that again, there is no door three. Door three is a casket. A one-way bed.

I didn't vote in 2016, and I'm hoping that you'll vote for the status quo this time, because that's the route that gives me the best odds of having a long and healthy life to regret my failure through inaction.

Just please

Fucking vote.

Or again, if you're taking the apathy route, probably just save me the time of blocking you, because you're not going to magically pull a viable third-party candidate out of your pocket less than six weeks before the election.

[spoondoodles]

I blacked out and more Logince HS AU appeared on my canvas idk what happened (also ty @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat for some inspiration sorry it took so long to make a post about Them <3)

[altoskh]

Imso tired man. I'm so tired. Why do I work this hard I am so FUCKING over this shit

[pondscummy]

the "also sick" comment isn't like "btw I'm SICK, how dare you not know" it's me saying I'm sick like how 2/3 of my roommates are

but like I'm so;;;; it feels so rich that L is like wtf do you want from me about me not replying for 45 minutes when I had to beg his gf over hours and hours of texts every so often to not force me to sit in unwiped shit after my surgery bc she had openly told me she just didn't rly feel like setting up the attachable bidet after telling me for weeks she would, and I never ever got a reply from her or L ever acknowledging that they were wide awake hanging out and laughing while I was like stuck in bed barely able to move begging for follow through on a commitment they made in advance and i eventually had to spend over $100 to hire someone to come out the next day and do it for me and I had to hold my shit for hours lmfao

like L is sooooo great at couching things in flawless tumblr wellness speak but only to talk about how valid they are for not showing up for you and how fucked up it is that you MIGHT ever have a moment where you can't be 100% there w them. like idk what to tell you I've been laying in bed with a sore throat and cough and fever passing out and waking up to roll over in buckets of sweat like the rest of the house. I do genuinely get being annoyed by a lack of response but it's also right back to this whole thing about Always assuming I'm mad at them which is legit one of the only things that actually makes me mad fjdkddhk like bro I do not THINK about you when you're not acting like I'm a bomb about to blow (also, as an aside -- we all take turns buying TP and it's usually me who does it like it's not out of pocket for me to say hey you are the One person who is out of the house already rn, can you get this on your way bc None of the bathrooms have back up rolls and one is totally out and I had to text our sickest roommate telling her to use the bidet and drip dry like.... "am I the first person you asked" yes bc you are the person who makes the most sense dumbfuck. I'm not being "overly needy" toward you or whatever jfc)

they literally told me at one point that the reason they're so scared of me is that my face is "triggering" for them when I'm angry or not feeling good and puts them "back in a really bad place" they have seen my face angry literally 3 times and each time it was on my way back to my room to decompress and each time I said nothing to them other than that I was in a bad mood and I was going to go to my room. I didn't yell either I just said it normal. like I genuinely feel gaslit here like I'm this horrifying monster of a man when it's like dude sometimes people are mad I don't know what YOU want from ME!! I do all my venting here where they can't ever see it even tho we've blocked each other, I censor their name like anyone even knows who they are, I isolate to chill out and it's literally been less than a handful of times like should I fling myself from the roof??????? would that fix it???

I literally know it's bc I'm a man too. none of this was like this until my facial hair came in more and it got crazy worse after I got top surgery and they're so so vocal about how much they despise men and think men should all fuck off and die and there's only a handful of acceptable men that they've personally vetted. despite them pretty clearly having a trans woman fetish bc they only date or look at porn of trans women and they do the whole step on me mommy thing about it even tho their gf has complained like. lmfao you're just a baby te//rf even tho you ID as trans masc yourself. like that's all this even is. I'm a big (5'3") scary (spent the whole weekend w my coworkers asking if I was 12) man who's obviously going to snap and kill you all bc sometimes I *checks writing on hand* get frustrated and go lay down about it

[toastsnaffler]

my flatmate asking me the day before "do u want to hang out w me and [old friend] everyone else cancelled so I can invite u now" is not the heartfelt offer she thinks it is :^/

[nnugatoryextravagance]

You do not understand the abject horror and whiplash i got seeing the names 4lung and glitchedpuppet mentioned in a post on my dash out of nowhere last night good lord get me the fuck out of here IM NOT GOING BACK TO 2018 IM NOT GOING BACK TO 2018 RAAAGH GET AWAYY GET AWAAY

[caricature-of-a-witch]

I swear by the time I have finished this paper there will be claw marks in my brain matter because I have to forcibly drag it towards and hold it to the document in order to get anything done there's a magnetic force repelling the two things and I am so tired

It's gonne be the shittiest least coherent paper in the history of papers and if I end up having tortured my brain for nothing and not passing the course I don't know how I'll deal with that lol

[wild-at-mind]

Someone on insta comments trying to argue to me why it's ok to use the term 'feminazi'....ugggh

[ukulele-mixtape]

Maple Scraps: The Siren's Call Chapter 9

context: tune (oc) has just arrived at restoration hq and is having A Time getting adjusted to being front and center in what she considers to be the heart of enemy territory. and it doesn't help that they're all nice and willing to deal with her shit attitude even despite her protests.

and the one who confronts her on that eventually is silver.

i.e. the trust building exercise chapter aka my favorite chapter that i worked on before i abandoned this fic

cw! for food, starvation, and slight disordered eating.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a little late into the evening, and a few weeks since the trio arrived at Emeraldville. After countless introductions and friendly faces, all of whom questioned the reasoning behind their favorite blue blur’s…facial situation (prompting multiple unique reactions at her expense), Tune found herself in the midst of Restoration HQ the first day of her arrival. It was an underground base of operations in Emeraldville for something they called the Resistance: a ragtag freedom fighting organization formed with the goal of fighting in the war against Dr. Robotnik (whom she now was forced to learn was, indeed, actually named Dr. Eggman, adopting the nickname to spite those who hated him.). 

She learned that after the “Zombot'' apocalypse spread across the globe, the original Restoration HQ was decidedly moved underground in favor of maintaining safety, security and allowing for people in need of a place to stay to rest their weary heads, helping out where they could as a collective volunteer effort. As much as something like this would seem like it’d be right up her alley, Tune felt suffocated by the talents surrounding her. She watched as soldiers trained and rattled off plans for supply distribution and mercenary work. Mechanical noise bounced against every wall, echoing inside the halls she silently passed through. People of all demographics ran around with paperwork in their hands, shopping bags full of clothes and food in their cheeks as rewards for a hard day's work. Community laced every facility this place had to offer, and yet Tune felt completely overwhelmed, struggling to find anywhere to breathe. 

Tune understood she was right in the heart of the most dangerous place in the world for someone like her, and if she wasn't careful, she would certainly reveal herself as a threat they would have no problem managing.

So, for the next few weeks since the trio’s arrival, Tune made it her business to stay clear of anything to do with the Restoration. It wasn’t her problem to deal with, and it certainly wasn’t something she was confident she could even contribute to effectively, if she even wanted to. She’d force herself out the exit, skates retracted and ready to roll away into the horizon, considering just taking the chance and hopping on the next train back to Station Square so she could transfer and finally get her Ramtrax ticket to New Mobotropolis right this time. But even if she managed to scramble enough cash, she had the knowledge that these people finally knew her. She wasn’t anonymous anymore. She had stepped into the limelight she never wanted, a consequence of her reckless actions.

And each time she felt herself trying to leave without a word, without anyone knowing she was gone, she would hear the distant yells of some of its founding members beckoning her to return. Notably Amy Rose, a girl Tune deemed to be way too nosy for her own good, despite her earnest attempt to ease Tune’s worry. 

‘You’re always guaranteed to be safe with us’, Tune recalled the conversation she had with Amy on that first week, Amy’s honesty seeping through all corners of her tone, cupping Tune’s clawed hands. ‘This is a place where people can come and go wherever and whenever they want as volunteers, but it’s packed to the brim with the best security around. No one is going to try and hurt you.’

‘Why would you assume I'm worried about something like that?’ Tune asked brashly.

‘It’s all on your face, Tune: you're incredibly on edge.’ Amy would reply. ‘You’re a musician right? You must be worried about those attacks going on all over the news. You look like you’re itching to break out of your own skin, like everyone in the world is out to get you just by looking in your general direction.’

‘Can’t say I’m particularly worried about getting caught in that drama in the music world. I don’t perform gigs anymore; getting panic attacks on stage ain’t really my style.’ Tune tried to cover, disinterested eyes turning to the side. ‘And I can handle someone trying to come at me just as much as I can handle a whole music setlist on my own.’

Amy would let go of Tunes hands, clapping her own together like the greatest idea known to man had just popped inside her head, eyes twinkling with excitement as she carried her thoughts out.

‘So why don't you take one of the dormitories for yourself?’ she’d giddily ask. ‘We can set you up with some sound equipment and you can work on your stuff there! I’m sure we have some instruments laying around in the supply room.’

‘Why would you wanna do something like that?’ Tune pondered. ‘I don’t got any money on me to pay for that kinda hospitality.’

‘It won’t be a paid stay, you’re welcome to be there as long as you want. And like I said, this place is for volunteer work. We’re not going to turn you down because you’re not quite acquainted with us just yet. That defeats the whole purpose of what we’re trying to accomplish here.’

In her mind, Tune could see exactly how Amy brightened up as she felt her eyes lock on to the pink hedgehog's. It was frustrating…she hated the idea of disappointing someone like this so soon. But she couldn’t just stay here. Not when there was work to be done elsewhere. Not when there was a chance Alto could be closing in. Not while he was still out there claiming more people into his ranks. And most importantly, not if she wasn’t able to do something in return to warrant the gesture.

‘…And if I say I don’t want it?’ Tune would ask.

‘Then it’s ultimately your choice.’ Amy responded quickly, as if she already had experience with conversations like this before. ‘No one will force you, but I do urge you to consider it, even if only for a day or two.’

Tune paused, contemplating. With an uneasy tone, she muttered out a simple: ‘...I’ll think about it.’

And Amy’s smile became infectiously wide. ‘That’s all I can ask for.’

And that’s what led her here. The final day of her third week, Tune, who once basked in the sensory input from all corners of the world was now begging for silence. The hustle and bustle of the underground city became too much for her to handle, and she was practically on the verge of dissociating from her body entirely. She needed a place to breathe, but refused to ask anyone around where she should go, lest they spark up conversation needlessly. So with a mindful eye, she studied the way people would enter and exit the facility for what felt like hours. A button here, two hidden locks there. Any time she’d catch someone’s eye, she’d bolt out in a panic, comically pretending like she was doing something important when anyone would try and circle around her.

And when she tried to walk away after a while of surveillance, she turned around the corner and got a face full of soft white fur.

“Whoops, woah there!” Silver exclaimed with a slight chuckle, a basket of all types of snacks, from pastries and sandwiches to flavored tea bags in his hands. It was weaved together by beautifully wooden straw and ribbon, wrapped cleanly in plastic wrap. Realizing who he’d accidentally bumped into, Silver beamed. “Oh Tune, just the girl I needed to see today! We were wondering when you were going to show back up again. Amy wanted to give you this personally, but she had a few errands to run.”

Before she could even blink, Silver thrusted the basket into Tune’s arms, allowing her to examine the contents up close. It was so…girly. She could see a tiny note on the edge of the basket; frilly, neatly placed handwriting etched on the parchment: “I added some extra cheese danishes for good measure! Welcome aboard <3”  How did Amy know that she liked cheese danishes? She never told anyone. Was she like, psychic or something?

“I’m not one for handouts,” Tune stated, a little too coldly, trying to place the basket back in Silver’s hands. “Don’t you think you should give this to someone who’d actually deserve it, Floats?”

Silver shook his head. “It was made specifically for you, so you gotta take it. Amy’s orders.”

“Since when am I taking orders from her all of a sudden?”

“Since now.” Silver’s voice lowered firmly, slight annoyance laced in his tone. “So come on, eat up! There’s some good stuff in there.” He placed his hands on his waist playfully. He watched her eye the basket's contents curiously. She was hesitating to accept it. But that reluctance didn’t match her eyes, uncovered by her glasses, they darted around like they were desperate to rip open the plastic and dig in themselves. And so to goad her into committing, he pressed on with a wiggle of his brow. “If you don’t I will.”

“Knock yourself out, then.” Tune immediately responded plainly, trying once more to shove the basket back in his face.

“What, you don’t want it? Not even these here…mochi doughnuts?”

“The what?” She tried to play it cool, but without her glasses, Tune was completely exposed as she quickly retracted her hands to scan the basket more thoroughly, trying to find the doughnuts he promised. And then, embarrassingly so, setting up the next punchline of her life, her stomach grumbled in anticipation. 

Got her.

“Now what could that be, I wonder?” Silver slyly pondered with an innocent tone, placing a finger to his chin, much to Tune’s dismay. “Come on, let’s eat some together! I’m due for a break, anyway.”

“Ugh, do I have to?” she whined, her voice small.

“Yep, captain's orders.” Silver gestured to himself.

“Since when am I taking orders from you all of a sudden?”

Silver flicked a small psychic wave at Tune’s back, pushing her to get moving. She stumbled a bit, but eventually took the hint and started skating along the pavement. A light blue aura surrounded Silver as he floated in the air and scrolled past her with a smile. He made a big waving arm gesture, beckoning her to follow him as he glided his way to the Victory Garden entrance, Tune skating faster to make sure she didn’t lose him.

“Since now.”

–

The two sat quietly on the roof of Silver’s greenhouse. It took a bit of nudging for her to even try and sit next to him, but Tune eventually relented, pressing the button to make her skates detract again and hugging her knees with her arms. She had a bored look on her face as she gazed out into the distance, watching the sun set below the horizon. It was like she didn’t want to be here at all. Which, to be fair, she didn’t. At least not with anyone. Even still, Silver tried to take her cold demeanor in stride, watching as she set the basket down with her dominant hand, careful to ensure it wouldn’t roll over. He took the initiative to open the basket, confident she wouldn’t have bothered if he hadn’t. He took out a few of the items; a cheese danish and ube mochi doughnut wrapped in clean plastic film and an apple fritter for himself, setting the danish and doughnut by her side. Tune side eyed the pastries, not making a move. Her stomach grumbled once more.

“You know, you can eat it.” Silver jested, already starting to dig into his fritter. “You seem really hungry. When’s the last time you ate?”

“...I dunno. I had some leftovers from the train ride that I've been trying to salvage all week, but I think I finished them off yesterday morning.” she mumbled, placing a cheek to her knee, away from Silver's obviously worried expression.

“So…you haven’t eaten since yesterday?”

“Pretty much.”

“But why not just get something from the cafeterias or something? You can eat train food but you can’t eat when people offer you stuff?”

“I can eat it because I paid for it to be included when I bought my ticket. The cafeteria acts like a soup kitchen for the needy. I don’t need anything.”

“So you’re just comfortable with eating scraps, is that it?”

“That a problem?” Tune sneered in his direction.

“Well of course it is!” Silver wanted to strangle her. “No wonder you’re so grouchy. You gotta eat.” He pushed the pastries a little further towards her, trying to get her attention. “Try the danish, Amy’s pastries are really good.”

“I thought I told you I don’t take handouts.”

“It’s a gift.” Silver groaned exasperatedly.

“One I'm not really sure you realize I don’t deserve.”

There was a long, awkward pause after that. It’d been hard getting Tune to really say much of anything when she arrived that first week, this being the first real conversation anyone other than Amy had with her. She relented on Amy’s request for her to stay in one of the dorms, but never came out unless she absolutely had to, usually during the evenings when most people were heading back home anyway. Her eyes were always glazed over, like she hadn’t slept in days.

When she would be asked to do something around Restoration HQ, like cleaning, delivering paperwork or even organizing boxes, she’d do it without question, but retreat once no one had anything left to demand of her. She would never be willing to hang out, but would always be staring off into the distance on her breaks at people, like if she wanted to mingle but didn’t know how, or rather refused to allow herself to.

Silver had offhandedly vented out his concerns to Sonic at one point during a date to the park, the two hedgehogs finally having a brief moment alone after a long time apart.

‘Do you think she hates us?’ he’d ask. ‘I don’t think we’re doing anything wrong here…’

Sonic would pull Silver in close from the side, shaking his head.

‘I don’t think so,’ Sonic’s nimble hands would speak for him. ‘Since I’ve known her, she’s not the type to want to get too close. She doesn’t want to let people in just yet.’

‘But she doesn’t act the way someone like Shadow or even Knuckles would do. Those two are just introverted, but Tune? She just looks so…not happy. Amy had given her all those instruments for her dorm and it’s really rare when we hear even a peep. But music’s the one thing she seems to enjoy the most, no?’ Silver’s worry danced around his tongue, unable to stop himself. ‘Do you think that there’s something going on? Maybe we can help her.’

‘It’s ultimately up to her to decide if she even wants that help, babe. We can’t just force it on her.’

‘But if she continues like this…’

Sonic gave a fond look towards Silver as he listened, noticing how he’d fidget around his benched seat in the park. Sonic took another bite of the food platter they’d been sharing, Silver swirling his soda cup around lost in thought.

“I’ve seen that look countless times in my life…’ Silver admitted somberly, sliding his pointer finger up and down against the sides of his cup. ‘In my time period, it wasn’t uncommon. You bury yourself into your work, you hide away in your bed, you barely function at all as a person when you think there’s no point to anything. I just worry she’s going down that same route.’

‘Maybe she just needs that gentle push then?’ Sonic would suggest. ‘Maybe instead of going for a direct approach, we just finagle our way to the finish line.’

‘What do you mean?’ Silver’s ears perked up in anticipation, tilting his head to the side.

‘Someone like Tune isn’t gonna listen to us when we’re hovering all over her.’ Sonic continued. ‘And unless she’s forced out, she’d rather spend the whole day locked away. So why not do something to casually ‘put her to work’ so to speak.’

‘‘Put her to work?’ She already works plenty at HQ.”

‘Nah, nothing like that. I mean, give her something to do. Something to distract herself. Something tangible, like maybe food, or trying to offhandedly persuade her into going on a walk. Something that seems innocuous so she doesn’t suspect anything weird.’

‘Do you really think that would work?’

“Well it’s not a guarantee, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

After that, Silver had caught her a few times when working at the supply depot, trying to stir up some type of conversation, anything at all to get her to familiarize herself, but she always would give a simple “Sorry I'm a little busy. Maybe later.”, and then would proceed to cut her break early in favor of more independent work, but that “maybe” never came.  To say the gang was worried about her was an understatement. But how could they approach someone who made it their whole business to not be perceived in any capacity whatsoever? They had nothing to go off but her foul mouth, her interest in music, and her inability to accept any form of help from anyone who tried. She gave them absolutely nothing. Truly, she was a handful without even having to try. 

But, she still did take up the offer to take that dorm. So, supposedly there was one thing, at least. If she didn’t want to be here, she had every opportunity to leave. But she didn’t.

Silver stared at his garden below. It had been a nice growing season: the spring’s rain helped bring many flowers to the forefront, allowing them to bathe in the sunshine they’d been working so hard to meet. The potatoes and carrots he had planted were sprouting beautifully, lush green leaves spread out across the crater in lined patterns. Silver wished that he could bring some over to Tune, maybe to have something to tide her over, but she’d already peered at the garden like if she knew he would ask. So he didn’t bother.

He didn’t want to give up on her though. He was sure he could break through, if only for just a little bit. It was like a puzzle that needed solving, and Silver wanted to be the one to do it. So, he tried again. He tried to break the ice frosting over this summer’s evening roof.

“Can I ask you something?” he began, glancing up at Tune. She barely acknowledged him.

“You're gonna do it anyway.” she said plainly.

“...Why do you keep saying that? The whole ‘I don’t deserve this’ thing?”

“Because I don’t.” she quickly uttered. “I don’t deserve y'all's kindness.”

“But who told you that?”

“I don’t need to be told, Floats. And I don’t have to be a brainiac like Lil’ Fox to know how I’m being right now. How I've been all week. It’s intentional. I need y’all to stop.” her tone was getting a bit more stern.

“Stop?” Silver shifted in his seat. “Stop what, exactly?”

Tune finally turned to face Silver again, raising her body to sit up, her expression angry, flustered. His worried expression only served to tick her off more.

“T-this! This crap,” she hotly retorted, wildly flailing her arms around as if to emphasize her point. “All these kind gestures and trying to check in on me. I see right through you; Who freakin’ wouldn’t? You guys are so transparent it’s almost insulting. But yo, not for nothing, why y’all trying so hard to make believe you want this? I give y’all nothing yet every time I try to pull away, you keep coming back and I don’t know why!”

Her face was hot, but her expression was that of total fear, like a cornered, feral animal.

“Because we want you to feel okay, we want you to feel welcome.” Silver tried to argue. “We care about you, Tune. And like it or not, we’re worried.”

“But why?! What have I done that warrants you trying to help? Why are you people trying everything in the universe to convince me I’m worthy of something I’m not? You don’t know anything about me.”

“But you won’t even let us get to know each other. Do you really think it’s fair to say we shouldn’t worry about you?”

“Y’all need to learn to put that energy towards people who need it more. People who deserve it.” Her voice was tiny as she hugged at her knees once more.

She wasn’t listening. No matter what, she was completely, utterly incapable of forming any other opinion of herself that wasn’t perceivably negative. It put Silver in a very hard position, the desire of wanting to help and not knowing how. She was being completely unreasonable with herself. It was like trying to convince herself of anything, pleading for her to love herself, or at the very least respect herself, would be null and void to even try for.

And then a light bulb stuck.

If Silver could convince her to respect herself just yet, she’d learn to respect others through her own actions of self care.

“So, do you only ever respond to people demanding things from you?” Silver asked, almost condescendingly. “Is that what you want? Is that what'll make you think you deserve something from us?”

Tune didn’t entertain him. But Silver continued anyway.

“If so, I want you to eat that danish,” he said.  “And I won’t let you leave here until you do. I'll stay up the whole night if I have to. And even after that.”

Tune stood silent, but her eyes curiously locked on with Silver’s determined glare. He was going to get through to her if it killed him.

“...You'll be here a while then.” She tried to fight. Her stomach growled once more, betraying her.

“I’ve got all the time in the world. I live here now.” he said simply.

“...Pass.”

“Then how’s this?” he challenged, picking up the danish and practically shoving it in her hands. “I won’t eat a single morsel if you don’t.”

“W-what?!” she exclaimed, eyes widened.

“You heard me. I don’t eat until I see you do it. Any time you take a bite, I’ll do it too. The second you stop, I stop.”

“That’s insane, I’m not letting you do that.”

“Well if you don’t like it, start eating.”

“You're gonna starve yourself like that, dude! Don't be an idiot. You gotta feed yourself if you’re hungry. How else do you expect to–” she cut herself off. 

Silver smirked, the silence all he needed to hear. He watched as she processed everything, from the way he looked at her to the basket separating the two. She let go of her knees and gazed at the garden below. And after a long, agonizingly long, silent beat, Silver watched as she took the mochi doughnut from the roof, and unwrapped it, looking at Silver one last time as she defiantly nibbled at it with the fronts of her teeth, choosing the wrong pastry to start with. He mirrored her actions, nibbling at the apple fritter still in his hands, and when she took notice, a scowl formed on her face, a blush forming around the edges of her cheeks. Aggressively, she forced the doughnut into her mouth without restraint, chewing grossly and never breaking that eye contact. Silver followed suit, shoving his fritter in his mouth alongside her. If people were around to see it, they’d look crazy. 

He watched as she chewed thoroughly, like if she was putting all the effort she could muster in this one action. He didn’t relent, and only when he saw her swallow, even going so far as to open her mouth and stick out her tongue to show she wasn’t lying, seeing all the purple and golden brown bits of the doughnut stuck to her shark like teeth, did he do the same, mouth agape and all.

“Happy?” Tune grumbled, shoving the wrapping into her pocket.

“Very. But we’re not quite done here. I said the danish.” He pointed to the pastry in emphasis.

“I ate something. Isn’t that enough?” 

“Nope. I said you needed to eat the danish. So if you want to do something useful, eat it.” Silver lifted his leg so he could rest his arm atop, rummaging for another snack in the basket. He settled on a fruit sandwich. “Remember, I don’t eat until you do.”

“Oh my–for the love of everything–I’m gone. Eat by yourself.” Tune growled, getting up from her place on the roof and made the attempt to jump down, but Silver was faster, quickly snatching her body with his power with a firm grip. Her eyes were threatening to bulge out of her sockets, and she wished so hard that night she could use her sonar wave to absolutely wreck his shit and blast him off the roof.

She was gently, but firmly, placed back on the roof of the greenhouse, her blazing yellow eyes staring daggers at Silver’s calm frame, only being released by her top half, her waist down still firmly in Silver’s very casual grasp. It was like holding her down like this meant absolutely nothing to him. She was desperately still trying to fight this, grunting as she was trying to fight against his iron grip and stand. But she couldn’t no matter how hard she tried.

“Nope, that’s not happening.” Silver said matter-of-factly.

“You better let me go!” Tune screamed.

“Eat the danish and I'll consider it.”

“I ain’t wasting more food!”

“It’s not a waste. You need to eat.” Silver didn't let up no matter how hard she fought.

“Silver, let me go. Now. I ain’t playin’ around no more.” Tune’s tone was dark, threatening, demanding, evident by her dropping Silver’s real name.

“Eat the danish.”

“Give it to someone else!!”

“Nope. They're for you.”

He was playing her game and going for that high score.

Another beat. Silver could swear he saw steam coming out from her ears. She blew air into her cheeks, her fur completely tensed up, eyes twitching, wrinkles all over that ugly expression. If he wasn’t so committed to this, he’d laugh so hard right now at her face alone, knowing she was imagining every conceivable way she could gut out his insides with her eyeballs. But he knew better, and he was desperate to help her. And while he hated being so relentless and admittedly uncharacteristically harsh, she needed to know she was deserving of that help, even if this was the only way to get it through that thick head of hers.

And then, once more, after an agonizingly long wait,  she snatched the cheese danish carelessly and released it from the wrapping, looking away from Silver and towards the now completely starry sky. Silver followed suit with that exact same energy, opening the fruit sandwich and at the same as Tune, ripping a piece of the breaded good with his teeth. Tune ate, and she ate, and she ate some more. It started off quick, eating for the sake of getting Silver off her back. But the more she chewed, the more she began to really just…reflect.

For the first time since she left home, she allowed herself to savor every morsel instead of just using it for temporary fuel for a cause. She acknowledged the lightly sweetened pastry cream, the flaky crust surrounding it, the tender love and care that went into every painstakingly long step to crafting such a delicious snack. And by the time she finished, she was crying, this time for real. This time for a reason.

Silver watched as Tune carefully snuck her hand into the basket to grab another item from the menu of goodies Amy had provided, taking out around three and unwrapping them all. She ate quietly, glancing at Silver as if to demand he’d do the same. Content, he released her from his psychic grip. She didn’t fight. There was a long, comfortable silence in the air, the two just snacking away atop the greenhouse, taking in the gorgeous night sky.

“Silver?” Tune suddenly uttered, mouth full of snacks.

“Yeah?” Silver answered to her unknowing plea, the refreshingly calmer use of his name not gone unnoticed.

“...Thanks.”

Silver nodded and placed a hand into the basket, grabbing a bag of barbecue flavored potato chips. He opened it up, allowing the aroma to float into the atmosphere. And before he got the chance to place his hand inside the snack bag, he saw Tune’s hand closest to him reaching, clenching her clawed fingers like a child, demanding he hand some over to her. Silver smiled warmly, soft chuckle escaping his lips. He reached inside and pulled out a handful of chips from the bag, placing them in her hand and watched her eat quietly, sniffling all the way. 

"That's what I'm here for." He began. "But you know, I don't want to keep doing this. I want you to take better care of yourself, if not for me, then for you. If you'd like, we can start small and eat lunches together during our breaks. Or I can teach you ways around the Victory Garden and you can harvest stuff for your meals. That way you don't feel like you're taking away from us or freeloading."

Tune's voice was hoarse, but genuine. "You're so weird. Caring about someone you know nothing about."

"I could say the same for you, Tune." Silver simply stated, his tone warm. "After all, you didn't want me to go hungry either. Sounds to me like you care without you having to say anything. That's why we gotta learn more about each other, right?"

Tune's mouth curled ever so slightly upward as she chewed the last remaining bits of chips left in her hand. Turning her gaze directly to Silver's, she muttered a small, "Whatever, dude." But the rude reply obviously didn't match her now calmed, slightly amused tone.

He’d eventually want to get a full meal inside of her soon, but for now, this was okay. Because Silver knew for certain.

He got her.

as a noted fun fact: this comic i drew a while back took heavy inspiration from this chapter. it's tune after her arc is completed.

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[29121996]

.

[absentlyabbie]

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[toastsnaffler]

I love to talk but I rly do feel like we have to be talking for a minimum of 8 hours straight before I feel like I can even begin to rly broach things on my mind or that have been bothering me a lot that I actually want to talk abt without being vague or deflecting or omitting or lying and if the conversation takes a break at any point it resets back to 0 and its still nice regardless but.

[thedevotionaltour]

in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️

[dekuneho]

no one else's ☆ ( ​thirdyear!katsuki x fem!reader ) mdni | suggestive

Kirishima taps Katsuki on the shoulder very gently, looking embarrassed as he chokes out, “Your girlfriend fell asleep on the couch.”

Katsuki would’ve brushed it off with a snap that anyone could use the fucking couch who gives a fuck, but his eyes slide to Kirishima’s other arm holding a disgruntled Mineta up. Immediately, Katsuki’s gut twists in displeasure, the pencil in his grasp snapping in half.

“Did you fucking do something?” Katsuki hisses out, yanking Mineta’s collar to face the full brunt of his sneer.

“No!” Mineta cries out, having the nerve to sound disappointed. “No, I didn’t, dude. Get off me.”

And before Katsuki could kill Mineta right then and there, Kirishima swerves him out of the way. Don’t get your hero license revoked over him, Kirishima’s eyes seem to say.

“He’s telling the truth, man, don’t worry about it.” Kirishima then glares soundly at Mineta, disappointment evident. “He was acting weird, though. That’s why I got him.”

“Traitor,” Mineta says, wriggling uselessly mid-air.

“I’ll kill you,” Katsuki swears to him, before storming off, each step heavy with pure murder.

The rest of the class is smarter than Mineta. They avert their gazes and mind their business — or it could be that they can sense the unadulterated rage emanating from every pore of his body.

Yet as he reaches you, every trace of that same rage dissipates into the air. His eyes outline your body, dead to the world, shorts hiked up with one leg curved — laid unaware. No wonder some freak like Mineta wanted to prey on it.

Katsuki sighs. "Always giving me damn trouble," he mutters to your sleeping figure, snorting when there's an answering snore.

He heaves you up and off the couch, arms hooking under your neck and the back of your knees. Katsuki pushes past the living room, ignoring the curious stares of his classmates. They all know where he's headed — straight to his room.

You awake to a pinch on your thigh.

When you come to, Katsuki is staring at you heavily, hovering above you with your head between his hands.

"Kats'ki?" you croak out, words stringing together. "Wha's…"

Katsuki begins to crawl down, and down, until his knees hit the floor; until he's face to face with your legs. You're still swimming through the sluggishness limbo of being half-awake, lagging behind only moments after Katsuki. You feel his grip on your ankle; it tickles, it's warm.

He lowers his head and pins your knee down with a searing kiss. The sensation spreads to your entire body. You shudder, toes curling. Katsuki smiles against you, his hands sliding up to your thighs.

"Too early," you whine. But you don't push him off; you press against him closer.

"'s already 6 AM," Katsuki says, pushing your legs open.

The touch of cold air and the sporadic puffs of Katsuki's breath have you sinking deeper into the bed, pleasure crawling in every part of your body that he's taking by force, in the gentlest way possible.

Katsuki latches his mouth onto the inside of your thigh, inching deeper at your gasp. You suck air through your teeth, taking every control you have left not to snap your legs shut and force Katsuki out. When he pulls off, your thigh is left with a clear bruise. He doesn't stop there — he dives in again on a different point.

"As soon as we get our ass here," Katsuki murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your evening-chilled skin, "I'm taking you out; we'll go apartment-hunting."

"W-what?"

"And you can wear whatever the fuck you want," he continues, licking at the mark, "or nothin' at all — I don't give a shit. No one else, just us. You hear me?"

You sit up, nearly knocking your knee against Katsuki's face. "You're asking me to move in with you?"

Katsuki scowls, the telltale sign of a blush creeping to his face. "You have other plans?"

"No, no," you cup his cheek, kissing the pout of his lips; "never, if it's not with you."

Katsuki appears satisfied, claiming your lips in a deep kiss. You draw away from each other with a stuttered gasp, heat pooling in your stomach at Katsuki's delighted gaze. "No turning back," he whispers. "Got that? This'll be no one else's."

Dizzy with need, you can only say, "Yes, yes. No one else's but yours, Katsuki. Now, please go back in between my legs."

[patrophthia]

mini skirt | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.5k

genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am

smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing

summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.

There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"

Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."

"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"

He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"

You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."

And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"

"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.

Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."

"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."

His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.

But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.

You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"

His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."

You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."

"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.

"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"

Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."

You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."

"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."

There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"

"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."

It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.

Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.

"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"

"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.

Fuck, Blaise was not lying.

In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"

"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."

It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"

"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."

His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.

He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.

He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"

You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"

And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."

"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."

His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."

Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.

It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.

"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"

Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"

You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"

You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"

Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”

“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”

Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”

Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."

You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.

"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.

Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.

Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."

"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"

"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."

"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.

You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.

His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.

Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.

Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."

Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."

And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."

You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."

"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."

" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."

"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."

" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."

Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.

"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."

The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."

You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”

“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."

And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”

“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”

“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.

"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"

You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"

“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"

"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."

Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.

Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.

Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"

Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"

"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."

"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.

"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."

Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."

"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.

"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.

"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"

"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."

"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"

Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.

"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"

— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡