#its not like the search function even works
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Up to the same bullshit as usual.
#the suggested tags are#inspiring#and#interesting#and ya know what#sure#lets go with that#its not like the search function even works
0 notes
Note
I lost a lot of my memes when I got a new phone, can you self reblog the trans be upon ye meme ya made? I can't for the life of me find it lol
Here it is! Not reblogging it currently cause I sorta wanna redraw it someday. Thanks though, for having me look back, cause I saw a lot of times people were telling us how we were transition goals. It was really sweet, lotta kind words in there :.)
#inbox#also what the fuck happened to tumblr's search function#its basically just the search tags function again instead of search keywords in posts#i remember when it USED to be search keywords in posts because we'd use it properly like that whh#now it's practically useless unless you remember tag names and even then sometimes it doesnt work#ignore my tag ramblings lol
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Does anyone know if there's a way to use a previous version of Tumblr on movile orz I accidentally updated it and it's SO BAD
#genuinely it's stressing me out omfg I CANT GO TO PREV TAGS#the search function doesn't even fucking work and now I can't go back to old posts of mine without scrolling through months worth of posts#small rant but its been hell on earth trying to use the two social medias I use the most (twitter and tumblr) because both suck ASS rn#you got tumblr doing god knows what and you got twitter fucking being X and feeding content to train AIs#and its making me so aaaaa because i feel like i have nowhere to go I dont have a place to share my art anymore :[#i feel like I sound very silly but it's been a hostile couple of months I wish to go back to fish please and thank you
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
hello dear mutual! i noticed that you forgot to put tags on that wonderful post of yours - do not fret, i know exactly what to do in this situtation! *posts an entire essay three times the size of the post in your tags*
#jokes aside here. i love writing in tags#it's like a post within a post with thoughts too long or too not-in-order to out them on the main one#it's a personal message. a whisper exchanged between people as the main event takes place on stage#it's the words that were skipped through during your speech. a song thats only hummed when nobody's around#it's the words of encouragement and emotions. a small 'it's not much but i hope you know you're cherished'#it's the place to theorise and be free of it all. ti add your own 'yes and' for nothing more than satisfaction#how come we turned a function that was supposed to just organise posts into a genre of its own?#a form of communication that can't be replicated? a free space just for you?#probably it all happened because the search option on tumblr sucks anyways so at least you can find some nice use for it :3#i love you tags even though you don't work#ramblings
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
hate that thing tumblr app does now where trying to post a post with no tags brings up a prompt to add some tags to ‘help people find your post’ and i really hate that it even pops up when you try to save a post to your drafts. like girl its a draft. no one is finding it in there. i might not even find it to be honest
#skye's ramblings#just like. the disconnect between this feature and most the userbase for it to only exist to say 'help people find this!! seek interaction!'#most untagged posts are personal posts/op just saying literally whatever random thought is on their mind. theyre not lookinf for clout#theres a reason i censor popular fandom terms in the tags of my rambles skye tier 2 illness is follower exclusive. i talk a lot <3#idk i just think its a really funny feature to add to a site where getting popular is widely seen as one of the worst things that can happen#most common thing for someone to do when their post blows up isnt to celebrate the clout its to just delete it/turn off rbs. lol!!#also it pops up when you rb a post without tags too and just. thats not even how that works. come on man#they could mean 'find it' in an organizational sense too but i doubt it and if that is the case um. bmaybe fix your search function first#i dont personally see this window much as you can probably imagine. but it is annoying when im just drafting thoughts to come back to#'ooghhhhh give me tags help people find me' well its cute you think youre special. youare going in the drafts
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
I am so fucking glad this actually returned what I was trying to say while writing tags about Law's kickass outfits because the unhelpful instamash mix I disrespectfully call a brain was supplementing all the wrong words and I didn't feel like finding that one writing thesaurus site on mobile
#My brain does this ALL THE TIME ITS SO ANNOYING#Like no buddy!!! Those are the wrong words stop it!!!#Today I forgot the word for syllable. My brain would not stop saying 'consonant' when that's not what I wanted and I knew that wasn't it#It's so frustrating#Because like. I *know* the words. I*know* I know the words. So Why. Why. Why. Can't you just remember them correctly. Ever.#It makes writing so difficult because once I'm knocked out of that flow state by searching stuff I'm never getting back#It's the same with like CS stuff. I *KNOW* these things. So Why can my brain just decide to conveniently forget the instant#I actually NEED to remember the information. Like 'whoops teehee'#'yeah those documents u wanted that were taking up space on my desk forever and ever? I JUST shredded them'#So I spend 48 hours stomping around rewriting all the paperwork and then when the task is done and over with#THEN ITS LIKE 'oh so I found a copy on one drive because it made an automatic backup but nobody uses or likes onedrive so I didn't see it'#WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS BRAIN#Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa-#Anyway. I thought this was mildly humorous I'm not actually That Frustrated about what just happened#It's more of just a general frustration with how my brain functions bc like. Come on#I put so much work in to learn and memorize all this stuff and it just takes it throws it out the window#It's very much a 'why should I even bother trying at this point' scenario for me#Cruddy rambles#Obviously apathy will get me nowhere. But it's extremely hard to stay positive when I legit just forget I need to do that :/
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thinks abt oni pmd au oh so hard. When you get a second chance at a relationship only to re experience drifting apart from them all over again
#rat rambles#oni posting#idk how much Ive actually explained abt jackie and olivia's plot but it is generally pretty simple#I think Ive said that theyre searching for these power cell sorta things to try to restore the machine they first woke up next to#but idk if I actually ever explained how the cells work? well I mean I only like 10% know myself but I have a vague idea#basically theyre kind of similar to the temporal bow in concept and they operate on manipulating spacetime and such#but theyre a lot more based on the concept of alternate universes as opposed to times bow#basically making power from an individual pokemon over theoretically infinite universes#even though theoretically this could be achieved fairly safely with any pokemon it was highly theoretical stuff and also relied on the#assumption that the amount of applicable universes to draw from would be infinite for every individual#so all existing cells were tied to some of the gravitas guild's strongest pokemon who could theoretically handle the process#this worked mostly flawlessly except for the fact that the host's intent and concent ended up being more capable of influence than expected#now this did have some pros as it meant that facilities powered by theae cells could be built in a way that would allow the host full#access to many functonalities of the facility and allow them to keep close tabs on everything#but the downside was ofc that this could also be used to sabotage the conpany if the host so chose#the og jackie and olivia found a way around this issue somewhat by basically building the cells so that some of their innards could to an#extent overlap allowing the hosts to have some level of access to each other's cells#this functionality was not built between all of the cells but they were all built to be compatible with olivia and jackie's#this is in fact the only reason current jackie and olivia are able to track down the other cells in the first place#the one they found still in the machine was olivia's and due to its untable nature its constantly trying to expand into the other cells but#cant reach them#due to olivia being able to be connected to it just as much as any pokemon olivia shes able to feel this pull when she holds the cell#now most of the other cells are hidden in neutronium crusted abandoned gravitas facilities and cities so the two dont end up spending that#much time interacting with pokemon society and as such don't catch wind of the gravitas guilds existence until far far later on#what they do encounter though are the echoes of the pokemon who hosted each cell as they collect them#again olivia's cell is very unstable and is constantly trying to reach out for the other cells so when the two get close enough its able to#start pulling at the other cells enough to allow for said exhoes to physically manifest to varrying degrees#most of them end up being basically boss fights with a few of them just being scared or too gone to care#for the first few jackie and olivia assumed they were some strange security system given the broken down technology around them#but eventually it becomes all to clear that Something happened. and the two of them end up struggling to agree just what that something was
0 notes
Text
i'm begging you guys to start pirating shit from streaming platforms. there are so many websites where you can stream that shit for free, here's a quick HOW TO:
1) Search for: watch TITLE OF WORK free online
2) Scroll to the bottom of results. Click any of the "Complaint" links
3) You will be taken to a long list of links that were removed for copyright infringement. Use the 'find' function to search for the name of the show/movie you were originally searching for. You will get something like this (specifics removed because if you love an illegal streaming site you don't post its url on social media)
4) each of these links is to a website where you can stream shit for free. go to the individual websites and search for your show/movie. you might have to copy-paste a few before you find exactly what you're looking, but the whole process only takes a minute. the speed/quality is usually the same as on netflix/whatever, and they even have subtitles! (make sure to use an adblocker though, these sites are funded by annoying popups)
In conclusion, if you do this often enough you will start recognizing the most dependable websites, and you can just bookmark those instead. (note: this is completely separate from torrenting, which is also a beautiful thing but requires different software and a vpn)
you can also download the media in question (look for a "download" button built into the video window, or use a browser extension such as Video DownloadHelper.)
#for adblocking--ublock origin is my favorite but adblocker plus is also popular#also i once again highly recommend using firefox especially on mobile#to enable adblock on firefox mobile just click 3 dot menu > addons > addon manager > enable uBlockOrigin#that's for android i assume it's similar for iOS#update it is NOT similar for iOS bc Apple hates you. i'll write another post later#anyway. PLEASE USE AN ADBLOCK ALL THE TIME (except for specific websites you want to support)#your internet browsing experience will be so enormously improved#also on firefox if you want to get past a paywall click the 'Toggle reader view' button as soon as the page loads#(it's on the right of the taskbar. a little rectangle with horizontal lines)#works for most news sites by showing you the webpage text that is hidden under the 'you've run out of free articles' popup#doesn't work for everything but it's worth a shot
83K notes
·
View notes
Note
hey so how do you think the batboys would deal with a s/o who sleeps with a sheathed sharp weapons knife/taser/glock under their pillow whenever their boyfriend isn’t sleeping over at their place. S/o forgot to put it away when their boyfriend came over. Too Happy to see him. the boys find the knife/taser/glock under the pillow and s/o’s just like “I’m a woman living in bludhaven/gotham. I’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in”?
♯ STRONGER THAN ALL MY MEN ( your boyfriend finds a stashed weapon under your pillow ! )
— gn!reader, bruce, dick, jason, mention of reader’s hair
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
. . . BRUCE WAYNE !
BRUCE HAD ALWAYS BEEN A MAN OF SHARP OBSERVATION. it was second nature to him, etched so deeply that even in the comfort of your apartment, his eyes missed nothing. he’d come over late, after finishing up with wayne enterprises and a brief patrol, his strong body visibly relaxed for the first time all day. you had greeted him at the door with an embrace so warm and genuine it chased away the weight of gotham from his shoulders. he barely had time to remove his coat before you were pulling him toward your bed, eager to savor a rare, quiet night together.
as he eased into the bed, his movements were slow, deliberate, and unguarded—a state so rare for him, reserved only for these moments of quiet with you. he reached for one of the pillows, intending to fluff it into a more comfortable shape, but his hand stilled when it brushed against something sharp beneath the soft fabric. his brow furrowed, and his fingers instinctively slipped under the pillow. the faint rustle of fabric accompanied the retrieval of the object, and when he pulled it free, the dim light from your bedside lamp reflected off the gleaming surface of a sheathed knife.
bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening as he studied the weapon with the intensity of someone accustomed to cataloging the smallest details. his thumb brushed over the hilt, testing its weight and balance. the blade wasn’t just functional—it was high-quality, the kind of thing someone purchased with intention, not on a whim. his blue eyes flicked between the knife and the pillow, the wheels in his mind turning as he silently pieced together the puzzle. whatever conclusions he was drawing, the slight tension in his shoulders suggested he didn’t like them.
you froze mid-laugh, the joy of the moment fading as your eyes landed on the blade in his hand. for a moment, he said nothing, his face unreadable in that maddening way he often was. then, finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured, carrying the weight of his concern.
“why is there a knife under your pillow?”
with a sigh, you sank onto the edge of the bed as your initial embarrassment gave way to resolve. “i forgot it was there,” you admitted. “i was just so happy to see you, i didn’t even think about it.”
his expression didn’t shift, but his eyes remained fixed on you, searching for an explanation. when you didn’t offer one immediately, he prompted gently, “and why was it there to begin with?”
you met his gaze, the unspoken judgment in his tone only strengthening your resolve. “because i live in gotham,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the slight tremor of vulnerability underneath. “i’m not waiting until it’s too late for when someone breaks in.”
bruce’s jaw tightened, the faint clench of his teeth betraying the storm of emotions inside his otherwise composed mind. slowly, he lowered the knife, resting it across his lap as though the weight of it mirrored the burden of your words. his fingers lingered on the hilt, tracing its edge absentmindedly, his mind clearly running through a thousand scenarios he wished he could control. you could see the conflict etched into his features—the subtle furrow of his brow, the tension in his shoulders that he hadn’t quite released.
part of him understood, maybe even agreed, his practical side recognizing the harsh reality of your reasoning. he knew the dangers of gotham better than anyone, knew that even the smallest act of preparation could mean the difference between survival and tragedy. and yet, another part of him, the deeply ingrained protector, the man who had spent his life shielding others from harm, bristled at the thought of you needing to live this way. the idea of you sleeping with a weapon so close, of facing the world with that level of vigilance, gnawed at him. it wasn’t just fear—it was frustration. frustration that the city he fought so hard to fix still made you feel unsafe, that even in your safe place, you couldn’t fully let your guard down.
his lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something, but he hesitated. the words seemed to catch in his throat, unspoken, as he tried to reconcile the truth of your actions with the deep ache it left in his heart.
“you know i would never let anything happen to you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “if anyone so much as tried—”
“they wouldn’t get the chance,” you interrupted, your tone calm but resolute. “because i’d already have this,” you gestured to the knife, “or my taser, or my glock.”
the mention of a glock made bruce’s lips tighten further as the weight of your words sank in. his gaze flickered briefly to the bedside table, then back to you, as if he were reassessing the entire space around him. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, his mind running through a calculated mix of strategy, worry, and frustration. he wasn’t just imagining the scenarios that had led you to this decision—he was dissecting them, analyzing every possibility, every risk you might face, every outcome he wished he could prevent.
“it’s not that i don’t trust you to protect me, bruce,” you added softly. “i know you would. but you’re not always here. and i’ve seen too much, lived in this city too long, to be naive about what could happen. this isn’t paranoia—it’s survival.”
he sighed, setting the knife on the nightstand before turning to face you fully. his hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as his expression softened. “i get it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i do. but it doesn’t mean i like the thought of you having to live like this.”
you leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his. “it’s just how things are, love. i’m not afraid, not really. i’m just careful.”
his thumb stroked over your cheek, the calloused pad a warm contrast to the slight chill lingering in the room as his blue eyes softened while they searched yours, lingering on the subtle cracks in your carefully built walls.
“i’ll support you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, as though each word had been meticulously chosen. there was no judgment in his tone, only a quiet acceptance that carried the weight of his trust. “if this makes you feel safe, i won’t argue.” bruce paused, his hand still cupping your cheek as his gaze flickered between your eyes, searching for a connection deeper than words. “but i need you to promise me something.”
“what’s that?”
“that if anything happens, anything at all, you call me,” he said firmly. “even if you think you can handle it. even if it’s something small. i want to be there for you.”
you smiled, the warmth of his concern wrapping around you like a soft blanket. his eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a rare tenderness that melted away any lingering tension. slowly, you leaned forward, your hand reaching up to rest gently against his jawline, fingers brushing the faint stubble that shadowed his skin. his breath hitched ever so slightly, his lips parting in anticipation as you closed the distance between you.
the kiss you shared was unhurried, delicate at first—a quiet reassurance, a way to say thank you without words. his lips were warm and soft, moving in perfect sync with yours as he cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer. the world seemed to still for a moment, the weight of gotham, of fears and weapons, fading into the background. all that mattered was this—his steady presence, his unyielding care, and the way he kissed you as if he was trying to protect you even in this simple, intimate gesture.
when you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the soft silence of the room. “i promise,” you murmured again, your voice carrying a quiet certainty, as if the kiss had sealed it more than any words ever could.
. . . DICK GRAYSON !
DICK HAD BEEN AROUND WEAPONS MAJORITY OF HIS ENTIRE LIFE. from the tragedy and chaos in the circus, danger was practically woven into the fabric of his existence. but even so, when he slipped into your bed after a late-night patrol in blüdhaven and felt the cold, unmistakable edge of a knife under your pillow, he froze. his hand instinctively reached for the object, pulling it out with a mix of confusion and concern etched into his features.
“uh, sweetheart?” dick’s voice was filled with both amusement and concern as he pulled the sharp blade from under your pillow, his brow arched in a mix of confusion and curiosity. he turned the knife over in his hand, examining the cold steel for a moment before his eyes met yours. “care to explain why this was under your pillow?” the tone of his voice was playful but laced with genuine concern. “i mean, are you secretly a vigilante? because if so, i gotta say, i’m impressed by the commitment to your role. or, should i be worried that you’ve been planning my untimely demise while i wasn’t looking?” his lips curled into a teasing smile, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—concern for you, his mind racing with questions. were you in danger?
you turned toward him, your face soft and warm with happiness from having him home, your usual alertness dulled by the comfort of his presence. but when your eyes landed on the knife in his hand, you let out a small, sheepish laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear. “oh, that,” you said casually, as if he had found nothing more concerning than a stray sock. “i forgot to put it away. i was too excited when you came over.”
your boyfriend blinked at you, facial expression torn between exasperation and amusement. “you forgot to put it away?” he repeated, incredulity lacing his tone. “like this is just a regular thing you keep in bed with you?”
sitting up, you hugged your knees to your chest and looked at him with the kind of calm defiance that made his heart ache with how strong you always tried to be. “dick, i’m living in blüdhaven. i’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in. this city doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for its welcoming committee.”
he sighed, running a hand through the black locks of his hair as he set the knife on the nightstand. “i get that, i really do. but i wish you didn’t feel like you had to sleep with a weapon under your pillow. that’s not exactly the kind of safety i want for you.”
you tilted your head, giving him a pointed look. “you’re a vigilante. you carry more weapons than i do on a daily basis, and you’re telling me you don’t get why i do this?”
dick groaned, leaning back against the headboard, his muscles tense as he processed what you’d said. he pulled you toward him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders until you were nestled against his warm body, your head tucked against his chest. his heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as he held you close.
“okay, fair point,” he admitted with a sigh, brushing a lock of hair out of your face and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. his lips lingered there for a moment, as if he could melt away your worries with the simple act of being present. “but i don’t like the idea of you feeling like you’re alone in this.” his words were more vulnerable now. “you shouldn’t have to carry that weight by yourself, no matter how tough you are.”
you relaxed against him, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “i don’t feel alone when you��re here,” you said softly, your voice muffled against his chest.
“i know blüdhaven isn’t exactly the safest place, but u’ll do everything i can to make sure you’re protected. and that doesn’t mean you have to keep a knife under your pillow.”
glancing up at him, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “what are you going to do? install some wayne-tech security system in my apartment?”
he grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and determination. “don’t tempt me. i could have this place locked down tighter than fort knox by tomorrow morning.”
. . . JASON TODD !
JASON STEPPED INTO YOUR APARTMENT WITH A TIRED BUT CONTENTED SIGH, the weight of the night’s patrol still lingering on his shoulders. he was used to the harsh realities of gotham—the crime, the chaos, and the constant vigilance it required from him and his family. still, when he came to you, everything slowed down. your presence was a breath of air that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. tonight, he was looking forward to winding down, to a few hours of peace away from the violence he so often lived in.
as he kicked off his large boots and walked through your living room, he noticed the familiar comforting clutter of your apartment. his eyes swept over the small space—a few scattered books, your favorite mug on the coffee table, and the soft flicker of a candle’s flame in the corner. you had always been someone who embraced the chaos of the city, but you also made it your home, finding calm in the cracks between the its dark heart.
you appeared from the hallway, grinning at him like a beacon of warmth along with a look of pure joy on your face. you always managed to light up the room the moment you walked in, and jason felt his tense muscles relax. he smiled back, his heart beating just a little faster from the simple sight of you.
he was whipped.
“hey, you,” you greeted him at the doorway, practically bouncing on your feet as you crossed the room to greet him. he didn’t even have time to respond before you were pulling him into a hug, your arms wrapping around him so tightly that it almost knocked the wind out of him.
“good to see you, too,” jason muttered against your hair, the weight of the world fading just a bit as he let you hold him. you were always so eager to see him, always so open and trusting. it made him want to protect you more than anything.
when you pulled back slightly, he caught sight of something on the bed—something slightly out of place. he frowned for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing on the sight of the handle poking out from under your pillow. it looked like a gun.
his heart skipped, his training kicking in as his body automatically went on alert. it was instinctive, the way his hand almost reached out to pull the weapon from under the pillow. his mind raced through all the worst-case scenarios—who could have left it there? but then he saw you, beaming at him, unaware of what he was about to uncover. you hadn’t even noticed you’d forgotten to hide it.
“is that . . . ?” jason started, his voice trailing off as his gaze flickered from your face to the gun underneath your pillow.
your eyes followed his, and your expression shifted almost imperceptibly, the carefree smile fading into something a little more guarded. you hadn’t meant for him to find it, but you didn’t hide the truth from him either. you shrugged slightly, trying to make light of the situation.
“it’s nothing. just a little extra protection. you know how it is living here.”
jason’s frown deepened, and he gently pulled the gun from under the pillow, holding it with an experienced hand, inspecting it for a moment. it wasn’t just the glock that caught his attention—it was the knife sheathed near the bed and the taser within arm’s reach on the nightstand. a cold chill ran through him, and he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.
“you’re sleeping with this under your pillow?” he asked, the words barely above a whisper, gaze softening slightly but still filled with concern. his mind wasn’t on the weapon; it was on you. he had seen a lot in his life, but nothing had ever rattled him quite like this. he understood the need for protection in gotham—hell, he had lived that way his whole life—but seeing you so . . . prepared for something, it rattled him in a way he didn’t expect.
you met his gaze and let out a breath, looking at the weapon in his hands. the unease settled into your stomach, but you weren’t going to apologize for being cautious. gotham had taught you to trust your instincts, to never leave yourself vulnerable. you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the bed frame.
“i’m living in gotham, i’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in.”
his jaw clenched, a deep mix of emotions crossing his features. part of him understood the harsh reality of gotham, of living in a city where the line between life and death could be drawn in a heartbeat. but the other part of him—the part that had spent so much time seeing violence up close—couldn’t stand the idea of you being so weighed down by fear. he had never wanted you to feel like you had to live like this, constantly looking over your shoulder.
“baby,” jason said quietly, the term of endearment sounding strangely soft coming from his mouth, “i get it, okay? gotham . . . it’s dangerous. but you shouldn’t have to live like this, scared all the time. you don’t need to do this alone.”
he set the gun on the nightstand, his voice steady but his eyes filled with a rare tenderness. he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you both, and gently placed his hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his. you could see the concern in his eyes, the way his jaw was tense, but also the warmth and care that was always there when he looked at you. he wasn’t angry—he was worried. jason’s expression softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. “let me take care of you.”
as he held you, he made a silent vow to himself that he would never let you feel like you had to live in fear again. he would do whatever it took to protect you—always.
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne imagine#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson fic#dick grayson imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd fic#jason todd imagine#batman x reader#batman x you#batman imagine#batman fic#nightwing x you#nightwing x reader#nightwing imagine#nightwing fic#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red hood fic#red hood imagine#dcu x reader#dc comics x reader#dc x reader#batboys x reader#reader insert#x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
happy birthday!! could i get vanilla birthday cake with crybaby!reader and “she’s so pretty, she still looks like an angel while i’m doing the most depraved and ungodly things to her”
- 🕷️ (if it’s available)
MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
participate in my bday celebration!!!
“good girl, right there, yeah?”
the drooling sounds of crybaby’s cunt swallowing the length of her boyfriend filled her frilly room. the baby blue decor seemed to judge her — being ruined in a space that was so precious. she could feel the beady eyes of her stuffed animals watching them. it should’ve felt wrong, but nothing wrong could make her feel so good.
the sex was always great with rafe. she thought he was heaven sent, so good with that mouth and seemingly all knowing when it came to her body. he knew all the spots to drag out animalistic whines and pearly tears from her.
it was all nasty words and sobs that filled the space. rafe’s large hands guided her movements roughly, pushing her to ride him in a way he liked. the realization that she was being used for his pleasure made crybaby clench around him. he rewarded her with a buck of his hips.
she mewled at the feeling, the sensation of him nudging her cervix making the tears fall harder and faster. fingers scratched at his toned chest, searching for any kind of stability.
“daddy, i— i can’t—“
a sting to her tear-stained cheek caused a choked sob to fall from her kiss bitten lips. the slap wasn’t even that hard — rafe tutted and gripped her chin, pulling her face down to his. body pliable and melting into him, her head all muddy from the contact of his palm to her cheek.
“yeah? you done, baby? tell me to stop.” he whispered, almost a threat. like he was daring her to back out.
but he knew her too well; silence broken by her little sniffles was all the response he got. those wet eyes stared at him pleadingly and pitifully. she wouldn’t say it — even if she had a gun to her head. too cock drunk to even function.
a wicked smirk etched its way onto rafe’s handsome features, resuming dragging her back and forth on his cock with her jaw still tightly in his grasp. her lips parted in a silent whine, he kissed her open mouth hotly.
“s’what i thought. you need this shit, huh? don’t fuckin’ tell me you can’t—”
she was a mess above him. hips canting when his tip kissed that perfect little spot, beginning to black out as stars dotted her vision. or maybe that was just the tears and mascara coating her lashes.
the sight had rafe pulsing inside of her, eyes flickering over her whole face and trying to commit her expression of pure ecstasy to memory. so beautiful.
his breath was ragged, a gravel texture to his voice that gave crybaby goosebumps, “love you… like an angel while ‘m doing dirty shit t’you. fuckin’… depraved and ungodly shit.”
she was hiccuping and writhing, almost to the precipice of that little death. from the way his navel continuously bumped her puffy clit. the pressure just right, his gaze so intense, his hands so rough—
crybaby came with a sob, babbling dumbly through ‘thank you’s and ‘i love you’s. her body was shivering and trying to squirm away from the blond boy. rafe caught her, working her through the sensations patiently. he pushed her onto her back and settled back into her warmth, pussy eagerly accepting his hard length with a squelch.
“get your lamb, there you go, atta girl—“
a soft white stuffed lamb was thrusted into her arms, limbs like jelly but clinging to the familiar source of comfort. her tears soaked into the plush of the animal and she bit the ear to muffle the choked cries that involuntarily left her mouth.
her pathetic little head lolled to the side into his forearm, nose nuzzling the warm skin. listening to the muffled sounds of his grunts and praises. she could feel him in her stomach — hazy eyes floating down to where they’re connected. a creamy ring collecting around his base and creating even worse sounds.
but crybaby couldn’t find it in herself to care anymore. their gazes connected and she felt the pleasure build once more. one objective on her mind:
it can’t get more ungodly than letting him fill her to the brim.
#STARS BDAY CELEBRATION ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚#🕷️ anon#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#fanfic#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#obx smut#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx cast#obx fic#obx
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Cambridge University Press website why do you suck so fucking much
#pie at work#where I roadt bad publisher websites and bad catalogues#*roast#but srsly it's like you don't even want to sell anyone your books#impossible to find. useless search function. layout like its 2007. I will not go on but I could#why can't you all be like Princeton uni press. their website is so nice.#they even have a copy button for the isbn
0 notes
Text
Roleplay Is Not Dead Nor Doth It Sleep
There's a post going around about how text-based, freeform roleplay is dead, and I was typing up a huge response to this, with an accompanying guide on how to find roleplayer in 2024, when I realized it might have a bigger reach if I made it its own post. So here's that guide.
I hesitate to say that there isn't a problem with the new format of social media making roleplay more difficult to find, but in the desire to make that point, the OP of the original post has left people with the idea that there's no way for them to get into freeform text roleplay in 2024. Which just isn't true! Here, look at all the ways.
Forums
The link to RPG-Directory to find roleplaying forums is a good start. Once you've found a forum RPG, even if you don't join, there's usually an 'advertising' section on that forum where other forum RPGs post their ads - this may help you to find forums that don't advertise on RPG-D.
Another really good forum to find roleplay on is Barbermonger. Barbermonger is focused on connecting people for one-on-one roleplays.
This last one's going to be weird, but it turns out that there are still people seeking roleplay on the Gaia Online forums after all these years. I think this is delightfully retro and then crowd there seems a little older than average. No pre-existing knowledge of Gaia required.
Tumblr
You can also find forum roleplay groups (as well as tumblr and Discord groups) right here on Tumblr. Usually, the thing to do is to use the search function - search for "[genre] rp" or "[fandom] rp" and sort by "latest." (If you sort by Top, you are likely to find dead RPs.) For example, here's fantasy rp, historical rp, and marvel rp. You can also try jcink rp, as most roleplay forums are hosted on Jcink these days, or discord rp, depending on your favored platform.
There are also tumblr blogs specifically dedicated to advertising roleplays. I'm not super familiar with these nowadays, but just in the process of searching those tags above, I found these:
Jcink Tinder
RPG Adverts
RPings
There are more, I just don't know them off the top of my head.
Reddit
Listen, don't run away, I swear it's good now - I swear Reddit is good now -
Reddit is a good place to find Discord roleplays. It's a little heavier on smut-only roleplays than other platforms mentioned here, but it's not impossible to find sexless, plot-based roleplay here either. Most ads are for one on one RP, but you can find groups mixed in here too. The big subreddits for text-based freeform RP seem to be:
r/DiscordRP
r/RoleplayPartnerSearch
r/roleplaying
r/Roleplay
Some of these have weird rules about what you can put in your ad, and I don't remember which ones, so read carefully and don't get discouraged if your ad is initially removed.
Discord
In 2024, Discord is by far the biggest and most popular platform for roleplay, and it has its own native roleplay advertising hubs. Here are a bunch:
roleplay partner hub
Rockin Roleplay
The Roleplay Garden
roleplay help
the roleplay connection
RP Central
Roleplay Central
Roleplay Hub
Barbermonger also has a Discord server
Roleplay Meets: Reborn
RP Hub
The Scribes Guild
DM Rp Village
cherry blossom! roleplay hub
DM-RP
Roleplay Round Table (21+)
The Historical Syndicate (specifically for historical roleplay)
The Roleplayer's Directory
If you can't find the Discord roleplay you want on here, you can also try Discord hub websites, like Disboard. These work similar to tumblr tags - search for [genre] rp or [fandom] rp.
Other
The original post specifically mentions that 'all the old "omegle but for role play" type websites died out ages ago'. This is mostly true, but not quite! There's still Rolechat. It's a little janky, but what it needs more than anything is a bigger user base. Their Discord server is also a good place to find one on one discord roleplay. It is, of course, free, but if you want to support its development, they have a patreon.
Please reblog this post, and add your own tips on how to find roleplay!
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
YOU ARE THE ONE & ONLY INNER SELF 𖥔
WHAT IS INNER SELF?
inner self is you. it is imagination. it is god. it is power. it is reality. it is identity. it is you.
"the one in you that imagines, is you. that is the one who is desiring. that is the one wants to be exalted. that is the one who wants to have their desires fulfilled."
INNER SELF VS THE 3D
you are the inner self. there is only self. since it is always inner self / inner assumptions that gets expressed, there is no 3d. the 3d is always neutral and therefore dead. you are the inner self which is also taking on the role of a human in the '3d'. but since the 3d is always molded by inner self, the 3d is just a form of inner self; it is connected to self (you). the only possible 'thing' that can control this dead 3d world is inner self. as we know already, the inner self molds the dead 3d world so to manifest something, one would have to change self first and as a result, the dead 3d will only follow because that is its only job. the 3d cannot function on its own because it is only a reflection of self since they arent separated.
the human body is not the real you. think of this human body like a costume. the real you is internal (inner self) and it is what is always being expressed in the physical 3d, the part which the human self experiences. self is limitless. as self, you can occupy any state you choose (state of wealth, state of luck, state of dating your sp). there are infinite states, so there are infinite versions of you that you can embody.
everything is an expression of self, an expression of you, an expression of who you are being in imagination
IDENTIFYING W THE INNER SELF
now lets think about the 3d/human self: nelly is in math class and she wants to see a pink elephant right now. so since shes uneducated about the law, she affirms for the pink elephant and then searches for it in the 3d using her human senses. she looks at the board and around the tables to see if she can find the pink elephant. she cant find it. the 3d (even though it is only an expression of self), is always limited. this is simply because the 3d is a limited version of self. at this moment, she is identifying w the 3d, outer self.
afterschool, nelly gets pissed because she still didnt see that pink elephant even though she searched everywhere. she goes home and reads her favorite loa blogger, @/etherealkissed ;) and is now educated on the law *wink wink* now she knows that she is only ever self which is limited by the 3d. she sees how limitless and free her inner self is, so she decides to identify w inner self.
now she identifies as inner self and sees the pink elephant. instead of searching for it in the 3d, she imagines the pink elephant and instantly sees it. she (her inner self) instantly experiences it in imagination. her inner self embodies the state of having the pink elephant. since she understands that self is always what is expressed, she knows that by law, the 3d will reflect self and she will see the pink elephant in the physical since her inner self already experienced it. but she isnt searching anymore because she knows it is done already. she (her inner self) continues being that person with the pink elephant in imagination, regardless of the physical. she no longer identifies w the unreal outer self by searching for it or wondering when she will see the pink elephant. later that day, her mom comes home with a cute pink elephant plushy as a surprise gift. “shit, inner self really is all there is,” nelly thinks. now she knows without doubt that inner self is always being expressed!
the point is that she learned she cannot be limited by the 3d since she is always limitless inner self. she is comfortable with knowing she is always inner self and always experiencing inner self.
“To the Inner Man EVERYTHING ALREADY IS TRUE, not to the outer. IT ALREADY IS SO, to the Inner Man. There is no convincing necessary, no 1,000 affirmations, no repeating over and over hoping it works, IF YOU IDENTIFY YOURSELF WITH THE INNER MAN. If you claim to be the One Within, you will find it incredibly easy, I will say natural, to FEEL what you want. Pay attention to what I am saying: When you imagine your "end" is it not ALREADY SO? You did not imagine "How" to get there, you are already there in imagination. Your issue is NOT in imagining the end, your issue lies in who you are identifying yourself with. If you imagine yourself in the end, which is easy, but then you identify yourself with the outer-man, you will breed nothing but frustrations. However, if you first identify yourself with the One Within, and then imagine your end, you will not question if you "are going to get it," you HAVE IT! The Inner Man always has it. He see's the end, he is the one who creates his own fate. The Inner Man is his own destroyer and redeemer. Identify yourself with the inner man. The immortal you. Not this body nor this outer-life. If you want freedom, love, joy, happiness, confidence. If you want to be a King/Queen, treated like a god/goddess, loved beyond your wildest dreams, then identify yourself with the INNER MAN. The Inner Man can have all those desires fulfilled.”
to the outer/human self, you have to convince it, search for it. to the inner self, you only have to be it, imagine it, assume it.
“Let's give an example. Suppose I wanted to go to Las Vegas but I am in New York. While I am in New York, I would imagine myself in Las Vegas at the MGM Grand lobby. So while I am looking around in the MGM Grand's lobby, I assume that the Inner Man who is looking around is the REAL ME, the I AM. So I say, "I AM in Las Vegas." If I identify myself with the Inner Man, then yes, it is a PRESENT FACT that I am in Las Vegas. To deny this is to be delusional. I am looking at the lobby and I see people walking around. Of course, I am here.” - edward art
the inner self is all there is. the inner self is the true you. the 3d/human self is a limited expression of self. why limit yourself to the neutral and limited world?
kisses, jani ☆
#etherealkissed🎀#law of assumption#etherealkissed#manifesting#loassumption#loa blog#edward art#neville goddard#3d#imagination creates reality#imagine#imagination#inner man#inner self#4d reality
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
—seven days. [ vi.iii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal
masterlist.
The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.
The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.
He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.
Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.
Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.
“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”
You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.
“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”
Champ.
Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.
2022
you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer
you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8
max: youre not my mother
you: i am ur manager u ass
you: and i have ur mom’s cell no
you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds
you: 10…
max: you wouldnt dare
you: 9…
He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.
When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.
“What are you doing?”
“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”
Max’s brows furrow.
“Lestappen?”
“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”
Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Romantically?”
You nod, “Want the link?”
“Absolutely not.”
You shrug your shoulders.
“Your loss.”
Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.
Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.
Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.
Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.
You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.
Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.
At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.
Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.
His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.
“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.
You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.
“No,” Max shakes his head.
“When will you?”
“Soon.”
That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.
One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.
(That's what he told himself last year, too.)
“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”
You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.
2023
“Should I break up with Kelly?”
Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?
“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.
“Nothing,” he lies.
“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.
“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”
I think I love you, [Name].
“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”
Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.
“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”
He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”
“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”
Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.
He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.
Beer
A spot in the engineering team.
Your family
He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?
Max calls his sister that evening.
“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”
“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.
“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.
“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”
“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”
“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.
“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”
“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”
Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.
It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.
“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.
Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.
It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.
Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.
Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.
Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.
Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.
You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.
“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.
He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”
Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.
“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.
“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”
“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”
Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”
Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.
Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.
Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.
“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.
You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.
“Yeah.” A lie.
The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.
Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.
He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.
Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.
“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.
The white shoes.
Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.
“That's not—”
“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”
Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.
“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”
Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.
“That's not for me,” Kelly states.
“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.
“Then who’s it for, Babe?”
Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.
“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.
For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.
“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”
“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”
“Do not even say my daughter's name—”
“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”
Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.
Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.
“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”
She leaves quickly.
Max’s phone buzzes.
you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?
max: yeah
max: i’ll be there soon
you: i’ll wait for u
max: you always do
Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.
Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.
He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.
Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.
you: landed
you: thanks for the jet
you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st
max: ok
max: stay safe
max: your dad will be alright dont worry
you: i hope so
It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.
max: are you okay?
max: just landed in belgium
max: mum and vic says hi
max: hey it's been a week now
max: is your dad okay?
max: im worried
max: call me soon please
max: happy holidays
max: or merry christmas
max: whatever you celebrate there in america
max: yeah i greeted a little too early
max: you didn't answer my call
max: im friends with logan now by the way
max: we talk at times
max: im trying to get him into sim racing
max: maybe it'll help him improve
max: happy holidays
max: i called your cell
max: you know christian just told me something funny
max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager
max: he said you resigned
max: very funny
max: please tell me you didn't
#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#f1 imagines#manager!reader#mv33 x reader#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv33
790 notes
·
View notes
Text
Giving BSD boys a blowjob for the first time
ft. dazai, kunikida
warnings: blowjobs (surprise!) MDNI
a/n: kinda wrote these in mind thinking it was also giving them a handjob for the first time so I guess that's double the fun!
Dazai Osamu ♡
Your eyes looked up to find Dazai's face, searching for a sign of approval. In response, Dazai let out a validating, soft moan and closed his eyes as he nodded. "You're doing excellent, belladonna."
It wasn't unexpected. Dazai, sharp and observant as a hawk, had seen the way your eyes lingered over every small change in his facial expressions. While you were dating, both of you had agreed to take things slow. Even small milestones like holding hands was a huge thing for the man that was wrapped in bandages. The slow burn of deepening your relationship into each other's hearts until it left a permanent mark that even time couldn't erase, was wonderful.
But with time grows desire. Dazai teased you to the point of dilated pupils, hitching breaths, and a blush that cups your cheeks. Exactly like planned, the detective thought, smirking behind the mask of crafted innocence. Except, the plan had been for you to beg him to touch you; not that you would beg to make him feel good as your fingers pushed his hips onto the couch. Dazai is highly aware of his intelligence that makes him read people as if they are a children's book, but sometimes, he thinks he doesn't always grab your nature. The type of nature that has you on your knees in front of him, getting high off of his pleasure.
When you wanted to focus your attention back on the twitching cock in your hand, the sight of Dazai's fingers grabbed your attention. You knew Dazai better than any living soul. Although still a mystery novel that hides behind words of deceive and avoidance to keep parts of itself hidden until the time of reveal is there, this mystery novel was slowly showing you its pages that brought you closer to the truth.
One of the mysteries revealed was Dazai's massive self-control over his external reactions. Emotions were another vulnerable aspect of what it meant to be human, and Dazai hid them masterfully. A part of that was because it functioned as a tactic to reach his goals and stay in control, but a part of you wondered if it was because Dazai feared vulnerability more than a bullet. Emotional suffering is torture for the ones with a sensitive heart.
While Dazai's face was decorated in controlled bliss and his moans playing like a soft lullaby, the slender fingers around the sheets were clinging for dear life. You see... could you make another crack in that composed facade?
Your thumb starts drawing circles over Dazai's tip and with that, you witnessed the twitching of both his cock and fingers. A soft groan escaped Dazai's clenched jaw. "Ah, that's my belladonna. You're soo good to me, hm? Working hard for that reward." That controlled tone...
... It wasn't enough.
Dazai could tell something changed. Even though he had his eyes closed in concentration, clinging to the tiny bit of control he had, he noticed how your stroking became irregular. "What's filling your mind that isn't my- argh, shit." Dazai's eyes shot open as he bolted his hips deeper into your mouth, leaving you gagged for a good second.
That face of pure shock and arousal, the one you rarely got to see on your lover, revealed itself to you as you had taken Dazai's tip into your mouth. "Y/N, that's-"
Another lick and Dazai's original sentence was replaced by a moan, and the detective felt like all control slipped between his fingers when you placed your hands around the rest of his cock.
Dazai grabbed your hair, hissing you to go slower because oh God, he was about to cum faster than he ever did in his twenty-two years of living, and God knows he did not want this euphoria to end this soon. Oh, he really wasn't used to feeling this good-
"Belladonna, y/n, please-" Dazai didn't know what he was begging you for. For you to go slower? Faster? What it was, you hummed in approval. That little vibration was all it needed for Dazai to throw his head in his neck. His toes curled as high-pitched whines fell over lips that had become swollen in a miserable attempt to hide his moans.
When you looked up after swallowing, you were met with Dazai's bangs hanging over his eyes. "Osamu, are you okay?" Worried, you push the chocolate colored bangs aside and... oh.
He was so pretty with scarlet painted cheeks. Dazai couldn't even look you in the eyes, giving up after one second of eye-contact before shyly facing another side with his head. "That was... good. For a first attempt."
You chuckled as your hand caresses the cheek that faced your way and with a slightly hoarse voice you respond: "Good. I'll make you even feel better next time."
Dazai's hands twitch one last time before he closes his eyes and mentally picks up every string that he lost along the way. As the detective opens his eyes, you can see the control and seduction in those dark eyes that you love so much.
Dazai leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. His lips tickle and a shiver runs down your spine as he whispers: "Someone has earned that reward, hasn't she? Let's see how long I can make you last."
Kunikida Doppo ♡
Rubies could not compete with the radiant red glow of Kunikida's face as he realized what you were about to do. The detective should have known you were up to something when he was preparing today's schedule and you had popped up behind him, placing your arms around his waist as you kissed his neck and whispered: "Keep a spot open at 8 PM, love."
Even when the blond had asked for details, your lips stayed sealed. The only hint Kunikida got out of you was "Dazai has made you work over-hours; I want to treat you."
Naively, innocently, Kunikida thought you might have a dinner or massage in mind. Not that he was wrong! It was just a... different type of massage. With your tender fingers wrapped around his cock, Kunikida clenched his jaw to not make a sound, but the moan slipped away as he sighed your name: "Y/n... I, we-"
"Does it feel good, Doppo?" You made sure to rub his tip with your thumb right then, making the detective's cock drop with pre-cum.
"It- yes... yes, it feels good."
Looking up blessed you with the sight of an orderly man turned into a mess under the tip of your fingers. A wave of arousal rushed through your body, seeing the man unravel in front of you. You figured he would be vocal, but oh-
Kunikida was sensitive. The smallest movement had him throwing his head back and trusting his hip as tiny moans calling your name filled the room. Not only were his cheeks the color of fire due to the heat of your touch, but the intimacy of it all left him flustered as well.
You felt a hand rest on your head, lightly gripping a bit of hair. "Y/n... we, you- I have to make you feel good, too."
Oh. "That has to wait."
"But- ah!" The hand around your hair tightened in response to your mouth taking his cock.
Kunikida's thoughts were twirled up in the storm that was you. Your name rolled off his tongue like worshipping prayers as you brought Heaven to earth for him.
The bliss of touching Heaven became too much, and with one closing word, Kunikida fell apart. He arched his back, forgetting to bite his lip to soften the groans that might slip through the walls where his colleagues live. His grip around you tightens, never wanting to let you go, never wanting to let this feeling go. But then Kunikida realizes he's still on earth and lessens his grip on the fear he's hurting you.
The detective looked into your eyes, but they were filled with lust directed at him and God, it felt so sinful that he had to deflect his gaze. Yet, you grabbed his chin and made your boyfriend face you.
"Do you feel better?"
Kunikida stammered, trying to get out a word. "Yes, that was," an embarrassed cough, "excellent."
Your thumb caressed his lip. "Good."
And then, the world flipped around as Kunikida lay your back on the bed. "I have done a deep-dive research on how to please you when the time was there. Now, let me return the favor."
#dazai x reader#kunikida x reader#bungou stray dogs#bsd smut#dazai x you#kunikida x you#bsd scenario#bsd dazai#bsd kunikida#dazai x y/n#kunikida x y/n#dazai smut#kunikida smut
882 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi, as someone who is tragically gen Z and only ever read AO3, can I ask: what was so great about LiveJournal? Like, I know that there were fics posted there (and I've even read about the "purge", so I get why it isn't used anymore) and that it was sort of a forum-type thing. But what I don't understand, wouldn't Tumblr fill in the latter function? How was that site any different? I see a lot of people reminiscing about it and I'm confused
--
A big factor in LJ's greatness is timing and nostalgia.
It was genuinely great, but it wasn't quite as great as all of the Lo, shall the Golden Age ne'er come again? posts suggest.
LJ arrived at a pivotal time in the development of the internet both in terms of technical stuff and how many people had access. Many fans who are now in their thirties to fifties first discovered fandom through LJ and many were at a time in their lives when they were feeling energetic and up to making lots of new friends—and to figuring out how to make a site work for them.
I got on LJ in 2002 when it required invites. Fandom arrived in droves in 2003, first via coordinated campaigns to get invites to key people and then when LJ opened up free account creation to everyone. Back then, LJ's features sucked. It was impossible to search properly, among other things. At its height (2005-7, let's say), there was a reasonable site search, and fans had developed all sorts of community resources for finding each other.
People often remember this phase but not the early days of suckitude.
This development parallels how Tumblr used to not have that private chat feature and how a lot of fuckyeah[whatever] type tumblrs have helped curate the site and make it much more usable for fans. Fandom draining away from LJ after strikethrough also parallels people draining away from Tumblr after the purge.
There are people who talk about Tumblr the way my cohort talks about LJ...
And to the shock of no one, they are people who came of age on Tumblr, who found fandom via Tumblr, who were on Tumblr during pivotal times in their lives and ones when they had energy to make friends and figure out how a site worked.
Those same Tumblrites are now making all the same geriatric-sounding posts we LJers do about how other sites lack the required features to be good for fandom while missing that 90% of tumblr's "features" at its height (2012-2016, let's say) were actually fan-created and were basically the same as any fandom newsletter or links page or all the versions of this kind of personal curation stretching back to long before the internet existed.
What life phase you hit a site at matters.
--
With all of that said, no, LJ was not a forum. It was a blogging site with threaded comments.
The key point to understand is that conversation was always happening in a specific person's space. Unlike on a true forum, people were in the comments on a particular post in a journal owned by another fan. (On a forum, there's the first post in a thread, but it's still more of a communal space with less of a hierarchy.)
Overall, the LJ format can have a feeling a bit like you're over at someone's house for tea. There's more of a sense of intimacy and also behaving yourself in front of community members.
Tumblr being obscure and impossible to find anything in does give it some of the same vibe relative to Twitter, but it's still part of modern social media that tries to shove every rando into the face of every other rando.
But it wasn't just vibes: LJ also had robust privacy features where you could lock a post to this or that group of friends. You could moderate your comments section properly. Tumblr has far fewer controls to force people to behave or leave on a technical level.
--
The biggest thing many people miss about LJ is the threaded comments. At least by late LJ and on Dreamwidth, you can expand and collapse threads, making it far easier to deal with a massive comments section. But more than that, things are properly threaded with multiple levels of hierarchy that are all easily visible in the same place.
On Tumblr, it used to be extremely difficult to find all of the actual commentary on a post. Nowadays, it's far easier, but you still have to scroll chronologically, and multiple versions of a post with a long chain of commentary may be much more divorced from each other than what would happen in a LJ comments section.
--
But could we use Tumblr pretty much how we used LJ?
We could.
I do.
--
The key things that people tend to miss about LJ, aside from the younger and more excited version of themselves or the friends they've lost since then, are:
Heavily text-based
It may sound odd on the modern internet, but there are a lot of people whose brains don't like or handle an image-heavy site well. They were everywhere in SF book fandom. They were everywhere on the early internet. Today, they're hanging out on Dreamwidth and still going to their SF cons. They're usually not on Tumblr.
You could follow the discussion
Threaded comments help, but a lot of it is about having some place you can check for updates. It wasn't actually that easy to follow big LJ discussions unless you were subscribed to comments and reading along as things were happening instead of coming along after the entire mass of comments had been left.
The tone of the discussion is intellectual and one's enemies are "idiots", not "problematic"
All this requires is a penchant for longwindedness and an itchy blocking finger to remove anyone slinging ad hominems from the comments section.
On tumblr, it's as simple as conversations happening in the replies on a popular account and that person not tolerating suibaiting and threats.
(And make no mistake, a lot of LJ discussion was in the comments on popular accounts, not spread equally between everyone's.)
It does require that multiple people like that tone and want to engage in that way, but lots of people do want to.
--
These days, I interact with tumblr by checking my askbox and reading my activity page. The vast, vast majority of my posts are ones where I'm the OP, so if I block someone, they're booted from the discussion entirely.
For me... yeah, Tumblr functions almost exactly like LJ.
Also like LJ, while I'm hosting the conversation, if you hang around, you'll see the same people again and again in the comments. They may or may not also host that kind of conversation in their space, and there's a larger pool of lurkers who have some notion of which people count as regulars. Other people are watching from the shadows, enjoying or deriding the takes of the usual crowd.
People presumably do like reading my lengthy commentary or they wouldn't be here, but my tumblr wouldn't be popular like this without a healthy pool of other people who chime in regularly. It's not just that there are more people: it's that you see the same people over time. There's a bit more sense of place and community than on some parts of the internet.
--
So, in my opinion, the failure to just recreate LJ fandom on Tumblr was a skill issue.
Threaded comments were great, but LJ culture came from mailing lists, and mailing lists had the same issue as tumblr with the diverging threads.
We solved that back then by clipping out only the parts we wanted to respond to (you'd write "snip" around the quotation to show it was incomplete). We solved the smaller LJ issue by linking to other posts we were referencing and doing discussion link roundups. We solve it on tumblr by, again, linking to what we're talking about and even quoting multiple reblog chains in our own reblog of just one chain.
--
Tumblr's technical features and even general crap-ness aren't really the problem. 90s and early 00s sites regularly went down for periods of time unthinkable today.
The missing piece is people.
When one is in an active fandom with others who curate or with friends who let one know what's up, a site with imperfect features is easy to figure out and retrofit for fandom's needs. When one already feels out of touch and is between fannish passions—or at least fannish passions anyone else cares about—seeing the potential in a new site is hard.
--
Threaded comments are different and better.
LJ's built-in way to see everyone's blog in your own style was better. The automatic timestamps and the ease of seeing a paginated archive of an entire blog was better than tumblr's endless scroll and lack of clear date labeling. But some of that can be fixed with xkit or knowing your way around tumblr well.
A lot of it is nostalgia for the lj era and a refusal to take the time to figure out how to use tumblr in an oldschool internet way.
--
So by all means, people, weigh in about what made LJ great or how the culture felt at the time...
But if I see one more god damn response going "You can't have a conversation on tumblr!" in reply to my tumblr, which contains nothing but conversation, I am coming for you.
514 notes
·
View notes