#learning that you deserve to get help and getting it

[ifnotlovepersevering]

Spared (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Agatha can’t resist herself when you ask her to take you to the Road

Warnings: NSFW, naive!reader, deceptive!agatha, mentions of alcohol, thigh riding (R), oral sex (both receiving), fingering, pet names, minors DNI

A/N: quick and dirty fic i wrote in like a day, inspired by a suggestion from @agathas-wife !

NSFW Tag List: @evilangels-stuff @riobutnotthebirb @academiagaymess @musicalmemesandstuff @shinkomiii @vintagegoddess12 @agnessharknes @jesterofrohan @agathaharknessslut @nickalpatel @junaika21

GIF Credit: @hauntinglesbian

As soon as she laid eyes on you, Agatha knew she had to have you.

You, with your alluring eyes, standing out from the rest of the crowd. You, that’d came to find her after the show. You, who all but begged her to take you to the Witches’ Road that she sang about onstage.

You wanted to go on the Road to recover a destroyed family spell book, you’d explained. You weren’t unique in this request, of course. For years Agatha had been luring in witches with the promise of a journey on the Road to receive what they most desire. The witch had collected a fair share of bodies through this scheme of hers.

But she had no wish to drain you of your powers like she did everyone else. A pretty thing like you didn’t deserve that fate, she was sure. As Agatha led you and the makeshift coven out into a field, she leaned in close to you. “Don’t do what they do.” She whispered quickly, before resuming her position at the front of the group. You looked at her, confused, but her face told you not to ask questions.

Agatha began the speech she’d recited many times before. She smiled at the admiration across your face, your girlish wonder exciting her. You couldn’t help it, you found her captivating. She was still wearing her stage getup, and the leather outfit combined with her tousled hair meant she had your undivided attention.

All of you listened intently before singing the song you all knew by heart. But at the end, no door emerged. You could feel the crush of disappointment and you saw Agatha’s mouth twist into a scowl. “Never have I met such a useless coven of witches.”

Her clear disdain stung, and you could tell the other witches were getting upset. “Come on,” Agatha growled. “Did you learn your craft from the Bible?”

Hands began glowing as the other witches’ anger rose from her jibes. Agatha caught your eye and shook her head almost imperceptibly, and you held off on bringing forth your own magic.

Colourful beams of energy began hitting Agatha, but the witch seemed to be undisturbed. The intensity of the magic hitting her increased, and she stretched out her arms as if she was taking it in. You hardly registered what was happening before the rest of the witches slumped to the ground, their lifeless husks at your feet.

You gasped in horror, looking down at the once-alive witches. “How did that- Did you-?”

Agatha feigned her own disappointment as she closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s so unfortunate but this happens sometimes.” She sighed, shaking her head. “The Road can be fickle, and witches aren’t patient creatures. I’ve had to learn to be defensive, Y/N.”

Agatha eyed you, trying to gauge your reaction, as your expression morphed from fear to sadness. Seeing you like this only fuelled her desire, and she smirked to herself as she wrapped an arm around you.

“Why don’t we get away from this, hm?” She asked. You nodded, and with a wave of her hand you two were in what you figured was her trailer.

Agatha motioned for you to sit on the couch as she poured a glass of liquor for the both of you. You accepted gratefully before downing it, wincing slightly at the burn.

“I’m sorry about earlier, doll. I’m trying to improve the ability to conjure the Road…but until then, it’s what I have to do.” Agatha studied your face, her gaze catching on the pout of your lips.

You grabbed her hand in yours and gave it a squeeze. “That must be so difficult.”

“Yes,” Agatha put on a frown. “So difficult.” Ever the actress, she willed her eyes to brim with tears.

“Oh, Agatha,” your expression was plain sympathy, and it took everything in Agatha to not cackle at how easy this was. “I’m so sorry.” You leaned in to give the older witch a hug. Agatha could feel desire coiling within her as she wrapped her arms around you, breathing in your scent.

As you pulled away from the hug, Agatha brought a hand up to brush hair away from your face. Her fingers came to rest on your chin lightly, forcing you to hold her intense gaze. “Don’t be sorry, pretty girl.”

Slowly, she brought her mouth to yours and you found yourself sinking into the kiss. Agatha’s lips were hungry, dominating, and you moaned when her tongue slipped into your mouth.

Agatha pulled away suddenly, and she revelled in how you leaned in, chasing the feeling of her lips. She stood up and sauntered over to the bed at the other end of the trailer, dropping the leather jacket she was wearing to the floor. She continued stripping her clothes as she climbed onto the bed. Settling herself between the pillows, she looked at you expectantly. “Coming, doll?”

You felt your breathing quicken as you made your way over to her naked form, illuminated softly by the lights on her vanity. Before you could get on the bed, Agatha stopped you. “Ah, ah,” she tutted, motioning with her hand for you to take off your clothes.

Heat rose in your cheeks as you began stripping your clothes off for her. You could see Agatha watching intently, lips parted, as you pulled your panties down your legs before unclasping your bra.

Agatha hummed in approval as you crawled towards her before straddling her lap. Her mouth met yours again, hungrily, and both of your moans filled the small space. She maneuvered under you so that you were straddling one of her legs now, and you groaned at the pressure against your bare pussy.

“Oh,” Agatha smirked as you began grinding down onto her thigh, your slick slowly dripping out of you. “Feels good doesn’t it bunny?”

Biting your lip, you nodded furiously. “Use your words.” Agatha said, grabbing your chin to force your mouth open.

“Yes,” you cried out. “Feels so good.”

Agatha began trailing wet kisses along your jaw. You felt her lick a stripe along your neck with her tongue before she made her way to your tits. Eagerly, she sucked and nibbled at your nipple, using her hand to pinch the other. Agatha looked up at you and could tell you were close. “Come for me, baby. Come on my thigh.”

You groaned as waves of pleasure rocked through you, and you brought your mouth back down to Agatha’s. The older witch moaned, and her hands gripped your waist as she guided you so that you were under her now.

Agatha began trailing kisses down your stomach, her tongue lazily drawing circles as she made her way to your center. Between your thighs, she nearly drooled at the sight of your glistening folds. She traced a finger along them, brushing your clit gently, laughing when you hissed. “Mm, don’t say you’re too sensitive for me now, bunny.”

Unable to hold herself back any longer, Agatha buried her face between your legs. Her tongue ran through your folds, collecting your juices. She hummed as she savoured the taste, your taste, before she slid two fingers into you and began pumping them in and out. “Fuck,” you groaned, the added sensation fuelling the pleasure building inside you.

Agatha marvelled at how your walls squeezed around her digits. Your moans were getting louder, and she wrapped her free arm over your hips, which were beginning to buck up against her. Her tongue swirled over and around your clit, and she picked up a pattern of sucking it into her mouth and releasing.

“Agatha,” you moaned. The older witch’s piercing gaze held yours as you came undone, your back arching off the bed. Agatha’s grip was strong and she held you in place while you rode out the waves of pleasure, her mouth not leaving your center.

As you came down from your high, Agatha moved up from between your legs. But before she could bask in the satisfaction of making you come again, you were straddling her.

“Up for round three already, pretty girl?” Agatha grinned from underneath you. You answered by meeting her mouth with yours, savouring the flavour of your juices. “I need to taste you,” you mumbled against her lips.

You helped her move onto her stomach so that her back was now to you. Agatha moaned softly as you trailed your tongue down her neck sloppily, your lips leaving marks behind. Your hand snaked its way down over her ass to her center, where you rubbed a finger through her folds before pushing it in.

Agatha grunted underneath you at the feeling of your fingers filling her aching hole. Her hands gripped the sheets as you slowly moved your fingers in and out. Your mouth continued its ministrations on the sensitive skin of her neck before nibbling at her ear lobe.

“Oh,” Agatha groaned as you quickened the pace of your fingers. You could feel her slick gathering on your hand as the sound of your fingers pumping into her filled the room. “God, yes, baby.”

You felt her walls clench around you as she came, but you were relentless. Before she could relax you were between her legs, arms under her hips to prop her onto all fours.

“F-fuck,” Agatha groaned when your tongue made contact with her folds. You slurped up her juices, probing her opening with your tongue before flicking her clit. Agatha’s face was pushed into the pillows, her back arched, as you circled her clit before sucking it into your mouth.

You felt her hand reach back and grip your hair, shoving your face deeper into her pussy. “Right there, don’t stop- agh, good, good girl.” Agatha cried out as her orgasm shook through her body.

Both of you panting, you collapsed next to her on the pillows. Agatha clasped your face, bringing you in for a deep kiss, her tongue gathering the remnants of her juices from your lips.

“Maybe I could help you,” you mumbled softly.

Agatha smirked. “Oh you’ve helped me plenty, doll.”

“No,” you giggled. “With the Road. I could try and help you in conjuring it.”

“Oh,” Agatha’s eyebrows raised. She’d nearly forgotten about that whole thing. “Yes, you’d be a huge help.” She grinned.

Was it wrong to lie to you? Maybe. But Agatha would be damned if she let morals get in the way of keeping you by her side.

[moonchild9350]

Firsts

Summary: Hyunjin reminisces on all of your 'firsts' together as a couple.

Pairing: nonidol!Hyunjin x fab!reader

Genre: established relationship au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: time jumps, kissing, hand job, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don’t), mention of birth control, creampie, Hyunjin is in love lol

Notes: just wanted to write another fic from Hyunjin's pov! this was supposed to be short but here we are lol

If you enjoyed please consider a comment, reblog, or like as it keeps me motivated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Firsts are scary. At least that is what Hyunjin thought wholeheartedly, that is until he met you. You with your cheery demeanor, your kind heart and lust for life. He loves your beauty, your body, your everything, but he also loves who you are on the inside.

Over the last year you’ve both shared many firsts with each other, each time they occur giving him butterflies deep within as if it’s the first time you’ve met.

— —

Hyunjin was nervous for your first date, the jitters getting the best of him as he checked his hair in the mirror for the millionth time. His heart was pounding within his chest, so hard he thought it was going to burst.

He picked out flowers for you earlier in the day, unsure of what you’d like. Maybe the roses? But also what about the carnations? He spent so long staring at the two options that the clerk came by to make sure he was okay asking if he needed any help.

In the end he chose the roses, sticking to a safe choice. He carefully cared for them home, making sure not to crush the delicate petals, their floral scent traveling to his nose causing him to smile. He kept them in water until it was time to pick you up, the stems dripping all over the floor and ultimately his pants staining them.

Hyunjin felt embarrassed at the stain, convinced you would slam the door in his face, tsking that he was a mess. However, you did the exact opposite, your squeal of delight reaching his ears, which turned a bright red in response. You whisked the flowers from his hands, setting them in a vase of water before following him outside.

He took you to dinner, at a cute little restaurant in town that you had been gushing about. He found it easy to chat with you, the conversation flowing nonstop. He made sure to listen to all of your likes and dislikes, wanting to learn more about you which was easy to do since it was you.

You both enjoyed your meal, staying for the cheesecake and that extra glass of wine, your hearts wildly beating at the prospect of other dates to come.

But all good things must come to an end, the night wrapping up way too soon. Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment in the warm night air, the city slowing down as people hurried home. He’d hope to see you again as he wanted to shower you with affection and treat you the way you deserve.

Hyunjin looked forward to more firsts with you, the concept not as scary as it seemed before

Not long after your first date, he took you to movie , as you had a love for films just like him. It was an older film, repurposed for the modern theater, one you both enjoyed and discussed many times over a late night chat.

The theater in town was old, the building itself a time capsule of when it was built in the early beginnings of the sleepy town.

You both sat in the red chairs, looking at each other as you blushed and giggled, each of you a nervous wreck. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, so he quickly looked away and focused on the screen, watching the ads that were playing.

Soon, the lights dimmed and the film began. He couldn’t stop looking at you from the corner of his eye, trying to catch a glimpse of you as you focused straight ahead. His heart was beating, his thigh bouncing up and down as he tried to pay attention to the film.

If he thought he was nervous then nothing could have prepared him for how nervous he would be watching you creep your hand to rest on the armrest separating you two.

Your hand rested there delicately, your perfectly manicured nails on display. His palms were clammy, as beads of sweat prickled at his forehead. He tried to subtly wipe his hands off on his pants, hoping you wouldn’t see.

Suddenly, you looked his way, his head turning to meet your eyes. You gave him a smile, butterflies fluttering in his chest at your beauty. He looked at your hand, now facing palm up and back to your eyes. You gave him another reassuring smile before wiggling your fingers teasingly.

Before he could overthink his actions, he quickly reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before resting his palm on top of yours. You giggled quietly before lacing your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze once settled.

Hyunjin was over the moon, a smile gracing his face as he turned to face the screen again. There was incessant pounding of his heart in his chest, as he held your hand in his, not believing that this was happening.

He found he couldn’t focus on the film, his thoughts on how your tiny hand fit in his perfectly, almost like two puzzle pieces finding their home together. He thought of how he could feel your pulse, the thump thump radiating off his skin. If he could feel your heart beat, could you feel his and how it ached for you?

His mind was a flurry of thoughts as he barely paid attention to the film, not even noticing it was over until the very end when you sweetly said his name, the sound sweet like honey to his ears.

He blushed, feeling embarrassed at his mishap.

“Ready then?” He asked you, squeezing your hand in his.

“Mmhmm I am,” you said, your eyes locked on him.

Hyunjin chatted with you about the film as you both walked down the sidewalk, your chatter warming his heart, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. The street lamps set a yellow glow, illuminating the way as you passed others on their way to a destination only they know.

Stopping at a street corner, he takes a deep breath, his eyes gazing at you through his periphery. You stand there with your hands at your side, your gaze straight ahead.

Hyunjin desperately wants to touch you, feel your warm hand in his once more. He wants to feel how your fingers lightly brush against his as they bend and fold to rest upon his.

Would you pull your hand away if he reached out to grab ahold of it?

He thinks and thinks, his teeth biting his bottom lip as he ponders at what he should do. You’ve held hands in the theater, but it was dark inside and not as…as public. He’s not sure why he’s this nervous. It’s you, the love of his life, the sweet girl who bumped into him at the cafe down the street from your house. And of course you just met, but he feels as if he’s known you his whole life.

Taking a breath, he builds the courage to reach down and grab your hand, right as the signal to walk changes from red to white. He looks at you, his eyebrows raised as you stare up at him in shock, your cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of red.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

Hyunjin was cut off by your hand squeezing his.

“Don’t be sorry, I like this Hyun,” you responded, your face spreading into a smile.

Hyunjin nodded his head and smiled back, his dimple popping up on his cheek. He shook his head in resolve and started walking with you by his side. He couldn’t believe something as simple as holding your hand could make him feel this way, as if he had just won the lottery and was the luckiest man alive. He’d make sure to remember this moment for the rest of his life that’s for sure

Your relationship progressed, both of you comfortably falling into each other’s routines, your two paths merging as if it was always meant to be.

You both opted for an at home date, agreeing to cook dinner together. Hyunjin never cooked before he met you, opting to fill his stomach with take out from the local restaurants. When you found out his diet was not the best, you flipped, shrieking how he needed proper nutrients and that you would take care of his meals.

That was the start of you cooking and bringing his meals to his home, making sure he ate properly each day. He blushed as you fussed over the containers, unloading them one by one from your bag. You explained when to eat what and what each item was, as you scurried across his kitchen.

Eventually, he suggested that you come over and show him how to cook basic meals, so that way you didn’t have to make extra portions.

This suggestion led to both of you elbow deep in dough, as you showed him how to make bread, your arms flexing as you carefully kneaded the dough. He watched in awe as you worked, little droplets of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

Hyunjin didn’t realize he was staring until you asked him a question as you used the back of your arm to wipe the sweat off your face.

“Hyun!” You said, giggling as he shook his head to break out of his reverie.

“What did you ask?” Hyunjin replied sheepishly, his hands reaching for anything in his reach.

You chuckled and bumped against his arm, “I asked if you had any questions so far?”

Hyunjin had many questions as he wasn’t paying attention to your instructions, but he didn’t want to dishearten you so he said no and continued to knead the dough that was in front of him.

You both worked in comfortable silence with soft music playing in the background. Hyunjin watched as you reached into the bag of flower, grasping a finger full. You were about to throw it on the counter so the dough wouldn’t stick, but at the last second you flicked your wrist towards him, the flour flying through the air and landing on his face.

Hyunjin let out a shriek, your cackles filling the kitchen as you doubled over clutching your stomach. Hyunjin chuckled, reached into the flour bag and grabbed a handful, launching it you.

An all out flour war began, both of you leaping and dodging each other, flour flying everywhere, the powder floating gently through the air. Your clothes were splattered with the white substance, as you pelted each other. Hyunjin’s deep laughter mixed your tinkling sound, the cacophony resonating throughout the little kitchen.

Hyunjin watched as you grabbed another hand full of flour, but just as you were about to launch it at him, you slipped on the powder littering the floor, your arms flailing forwards. You shrieked and drop towards the floor, your hands reaching out to grab onto anything you could.

He quickly reached out his hands and caught you, cradling you gently within his ams. You both were breathing heavy, your chests rapidly rising and falling, little puffs of air coming from your lips as you both stood there in silence.

Hyunjin helped you stand back up, his hands traveling down your arms. He gazed down at you, his eyes catching yours. You looked beautiful, your cheeks flushed with specks of flour, wisps of your hair falling into your face.

Hyunjin’s breath caught as his gaze drifted to your lips, his mind wandering how they would feel on his. It’s not the first time he’s thought this, the idea floating around his head late at night as he laid in bed, his hand drifting to his cock that seems to always be hard during the night hours as he thinks of you.

Your eyes widen, your pupils dilating as you waited in anticipation for his next move. Time seemed to stand still as Hyunjin took a breath and gently cupped your chin, gently tipping your head up.

Leaning down, he slowly closed the gap between you two until he could feel your breath on him. There was a pause as you both stood together, his hand on your chin, his forehead against yours. Closing the final distance, your lips collided. Your lips were soft on his as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding down your arms, your torso until they reached your waist.

Hyunjin could hear fireworks going off within his head and he smiled at the cliche thought, as he continued to move his lips against yours. He shivered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching onto him as he continued to kiss you gently but passionately.

Just when he thought he’d run out of oxygen, you pulled away partially, a string of spit connecting your two lips, as you fought to catch your breath. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours and let out a chuckle as you smiled, your fingers softly carding through his hair.

You both stood there gazing at each other, your lips pressing together again and again in breathy exchange. The night went on, the dough forgotten as you embraced each other, listening to the sound of your hearts beating and the sound of the soft notes of a piano flowing throughout the room.

“Let’s watch a movie baby,” you cooed, snuggling closer to him, your head nuzzling into his chest.

You both were in your bed, spending a lazy day together. Hyunjin loved being in your room, being surrounded by your scent, with the presence of your interests scattered throughout the room. He pulled you closer, chuckling as you squeaked at the sudden movement.

Your legs were wrapped around his, your hand on his belly as he lightly brushed his fingertips down your spine. Hyunjin has dreamed of a moment like this for weeks, wanting you within his arms, the promise of more lingering in the air.

And that’s exactly how the night went. He remembers lowering you on your back, your hair splayed out on the pillow, your big brown eyes staring up at him.

He pressed wet kisses all over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, his cock swelling at the sound of your sweet moans as he worshipped your body. He found himself grinding into you, his cock meeting your core with each pass, strangled moans leaving his lips.

Hyunjin held his breath as you rid yourself of your shirt, tossing it away before settling back onto the pillow. He swallowed as you fondled your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples looking at him with a hooded gaze.

“Touch me,” you breathed, your lips parted as you watched his every move.

He grasped your breasts, cupping the flesh as his fingers brushed and tugged against your nipples. He listened to your moans, his eyes widening as you arched into his touch, your hands reaching out to meet his. Hyunjin reveled in how they felt perfect within the palm of his hand, soft and plushy, his mind reeling at the feel of them.

He groaned as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, your back arching into him as he licked and sucked, his other hand massaging your other breast. He felt euphoric, waves of pleasure traveling through his body as he pleasured you.

Releasing your nipple with a pop, he hurriedly rid himself of his boxers, his cock slapping against his belly at the force and pre cum oozing from his tip. He took in your gaze, as you licked your lips at the sight of his member, your hands reaching out to encircle his length.

He whimpered as you slid your hand against his shaft, your palm coming up to circle the head over and over. His mouth was wide open as he shuddered in pleasure, his hips slightly thrusting up into your hand. You stroked him harder, faster, your eyes trained on him, a smirk forming on your face as you watched him fall apart above you.

“Can’t…stop love,” Hyunjin breathed, his hand reaching out to gently remove yours from his cock. “Need to be in you. Will you let me have you?” He asked with hope in your eyes.

He groaned out as you parted your legs more, displaying your wet pussy to him.

“Of course baby,” you cooed as you reached down to part your folds so your leaking entrance was on display.

Hyunjin grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it at your hole. He was about to push in when he stopped, hesitating to proceed.

You looked up at him curiously as you asked, “why’d you stop?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, his eyes roaming up your body until they landed on your brown orbs.

“I um…I don’t have a condom,” he replied, his eyes cast downward at the implications of not being able to have you.

However, he perked up when you responded, a wide smile on your face.

“I’m on birth control, so we don’t need one if you don’t mind.”

He felt his heart flutter, his cock twitching at the thought of not only having you for the first time but also bare. He gripped his cock harder and brushed his tip through your folds, the head catching on your clit before trailing back down to your entrance.

He pushed within you, his eyes trained on your pussy as your warm walls engulfed him like a hug. He faltered slightly, letting out a breath as the pleasure was too overwhelming. You were so wet, the slide easy as he pushed further within you.

He groaned as you whimpered, spreading your legs wider so you could watch where you two were connected. Hyunjin began thrusting his hips into you, his breath stuttering as your pussy clenched around him, holding him in.

He wasn’t going to last long, the feeling of you, the smell of you, even the sound of you being too overwhelming. He quickly attached his lips to yours as he brought his hand to your clit, sloppily circling the bud to get you to your high.

He could feel you shivering beneath him, your hands clawing at his back as he pounded into you. His face was buried in your neck, your lips at his ear whispering the most dirty things, causing him to groan.

You continuously clenched around him, your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him tight, your legs wrapping around his thighs pulling him deeper within you.

You whined his name, whimpering “don’t stop” over and over.

You were driving him insane.

He was moments away from claiming you, his cock swelling at the thought of getting to fill you with his seed. His hips stuttered as his cock twitched within your walls, his mind a mess as he couldn’t think straight.

You lifted his head and brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, the action tipping him over the edge, reaching that euphoria he has only experienced within the confines of his room or in his dreams.

It was better than he could imagine, causing him to whimper as his cum filled you within. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you gasped as you reached your high, the rhythmic contraction of your walls milking him dry.

Hyunjin swallowed your moans, his body caging yours as he lazily rocked into you, riding out both of your highs.

He let out a shaky breath before pulling back, taking in your sweaty body beneath his, the clear sheen coating every inch of your skin. He withdrew his cock, watching as his cum seeped from your pussy, your walls contracting at the emptiness and pushing out the white liquid.

“I love you,” you whispered as you gazed up at him, a soft smile gracing your face.

Hyunjin felt his heart swell at the confession, his love for you expanding by the second.

You loved him.

He mouthed the words before running a hand through his hair.

You loved him.

Looking down at you lovingly, he pushed your hair back from your face, his eyes taking in the afterglow. He licked his lips and kissed you before laying down next to you and pulling you close.

“I love you.” He repeated, meaning every word as it left his mouth.

— —

Yeah firsts are scary. Hyunjin has never liked them. However, he doesn’t mind sharing firsts with you, the love of his life.

He remembers that as you descend the steps, dressed in a beautiful little black dress, your hair carefully fixed and makeup done to perfection.

Here Hyunjin is celebrating yet another first with you, your first anniversary, and he could not be happier and more satisfied.

You are his first but also his last.

Tag list: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

[cyberrose2001]

HUMAN PET AU <3

Ratchet finally comes home from working all day at the med bay, the poor medic is tired as hell and just wants to relax in the comfort of his own berth. Fortunately enough, ratchet owns an exotic pet. A human he has grown fond of. They are fully trained and even have their own collar (with the message “Please return to Ratchet if lost” written on it), they have also learned how to help Ratchet de-stress by letting him use their hole as his personal flesh light <3 His happy little human loves becoming his cum dump to help him get his frustrations out, such a helpful little pet <33

any continuity of ratchet is fine (pick ur fav!), afab but gender neutral reader please and thank you moni 🙏❤️‍🩹

A Sight For Sore Optics - Human Pet AU

IDW/MTMTE Ratchet x human! afab! gn!Reader

Hi Gem! Thank you so much for your request, I was literally foaming at the mouth ready to write this. To make this more anatomically possible, Ratchet's spike transforms to a more "safer" size. So I hope this is good please be good (I haven't finished reading mtmte yet so forgive me). Also if I have missed any tags please let me know!

Warnings: Xenophilia, Size Kink, Collaring, Oral (both receiving and giving), Masturbation, Praise Kink, Cum Dumping, Mild Dubious Consent (?)

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Another day, another few thousand miles of endless space, another few sickly bots. Additionally, a few unkempt humans requiring attention due to poor conditions from their previous owners. With the new organic additions to the Lost Light at the captain's approval, Ratchet had found himself biting off more than he could chew, looking after bots and humans. Oh, how he wished he took up an organic health course or something other than primarily relying on Brainstorm's fervent research on the tiny creatures. Between juggling it all, Ratchet was unsure how much more his threadbare servos could take. Still, there was one thing the old medic was unmistakable about. He was tired.

One good thing, he must admit, is that he gets to return to you. His own human pet, a personal 'Thank you' gift on behalf of the entire crew for his selflessness and hard work, provided with you a basket with fundamental necessities. But the basket had long since been used up, and he had transformed it into a makeshift cot for you. It'll do for now, he had thought.

He was initially still trying to figure out what to think of you. Apart from very rudimentary health checkups and nutritional foods, there wasn't much that Ratchet could provide for you. There's not many enriching activities for such a tiny human like yourself. Until that is, he discovered something quite unusual that had been exhibited in almost every human adopted by the crew so far.

You have an insatiable libido.

Ratchet was unsure, if not downright nervous if other owners were to discover how incredibly beneficial humans could be. Whether or not they had already learned was an entirely different story. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if that was the very reason why human pets were approved, though it seems shocking. It all seemed so innocent enough, adopting humans for the cuteness factor for the mechs on board. But as with most things, there's always more than just the surface level of what the optic sees. And Ratchet was already way too far below the surface.

Punching in the code for his hab suite, Ratchet waits eagerly for the door to open with twitching digits. He steps inside, tossing whatever work essentials he has on hand on the first bench he sees. He'll worry about reorganising later. Right now, he needs some pet therapy and a well-overdue overload. The dull ache behind his panels only gets stronger as his pedes carry him to his berthroom to you, curled up on his berth. It looked as if you neglected your rudimentary cot, choosing to sleep on his berth instead. The medic can't help the softened expression as he melts at the sight. Of all the things he didn't think he deserved, he never once expected it to be such an adorable little thing like you.

He lets his pedes wander over to you, like countless times before, careful and delicate. He always told himself that this 'fling' he had with you was only temporary and that it was purely for his curiosity, but he tends to find himself aching for you repeatedly. He can't help how his racing neurocircuits seem to fizzle out and calm down when he lies with you.

A roughened servo brushes over your hair to slowly stir you. It looked like you had been napping for some time now, which he believes is a good thing. Brainstorm did say that humans tend to sleep better in environments they consider comfortable. The gentle brushing causes you to stir and lift your head to greet him, though in a language yet to be deciphered. It's a pleasant greeting, and Ratchet can tell they're happy to see him. Something along the lines of 'I missed you,' he'd like to think.

"Hey, squishy. I missed you too," Ratchet smiles warmly. He brushes the hair away from your neck to reveal a collar, "You haven't ripped it off yet. Seems like you like it, hm?"

A slight, sleepy nod in confirmation, you've grasped at what he said. Ratchets' digits trail down to the collar, a small silver plate that reads 'Please Return to Ratchet If Lost - HabSuite ###" engraved in Cybertronian. Not that you tend to wander off, but more or less a just in case. Plus, he gets a thrill seeing his name attached to you. He thumbs it gently, admiring his handy work.

"I'm glad you do. It took me quite some time to make," Ratchet tugs at it softly, beckoning you to come closer. He watches you climb onto his lap, "Such tiny adornments are complex to create, 'specially with hands like mine." A servo cups your back, his thumb moving to play with your soft chest. He shivers when he hears a tiny whimper from you, and you seem eager to play with him already.

"I've had a busy day," A mechanical noise of shifting gears as his spike slides out of its housing, "I think you know what I need." It's well and truly bigger than you, much bigger than your tiny body could ever take. But the way your eyes light up in excitement assures Ratchet that you are more than pleased, already desperately taking off your quirky frame coverings. He eyes off your cute organic valve, notices how dripping wet it is, and staves off a moan.

"C'mere for a second," Ratchet scoops you into his servo to bring you closer to his face. He gets a whiff of your arousal, so earthy and addicting. The more you spread your thighs for him, the more he can smell. He brings you to his intake and licks one hearty stripe up your folds.

Oh yes, he thinks. Better than energon. Better than any high grade to ever pass his dermas, like a warm drink that soothes and revitalises his senses. It thickens on his glossa, groaning at the taste as he swirls it around your little node. He watches intently as you squeal in delight, your thighs trembling around his cheeks and how your little face contorts into one of pleasure. Well, he had always presumed it was in pleasure; you've never exactly shied away from his glossa. He hums when you feel him grinding, desperate little ruts chasing the vibrations.

Ratchet licks one last time at your slick, pulling away to observe. Oral lubricants coat your valve thickly, the sensitive area reddened from his torment. His optics wander up; your soft skin is already flushed and glistening with sweat. He wonders how close you were to overloading; it wouldn't have taken much longer if he had kept going. But his spike grows restless, throbbing against his abdominal plating, begging to be touched by much softer palms than his own.

"Do you want my spike? Hm?" Ratchet teases, "My big spike?" He knows you can't fully understand him, but he can't help but vocalise his salacious fantasy. Holding onto you carefully, he lounges back onto the berth. He bites his bottom derma and lowers you to his lap, showing you his engorged spike, "Go on then, have at it. I'll frag your little brains out soon."

With an encouraging nudge from Ratchet, you straddle the shaft. To anyone else, it looks ridiculous. A tiny human desperately attempting to wrap their arms around a spike that's two times taller than they are. But to any depraved fleshy fragger, it's a sight to behold. Ratchet once thought of snapping a picture to potentially maybe sell it to the highest bidder for those who crave the feeling of such a soft body grinding on them, for he is sure there's a market out there somewhere, probably more than half of the crew onboard. Still, the shame of it all prevents him. There's an image to uphold being the resident medic.

Besides, he'd much prefer to keep you and that curious tongue all for himself.

He feels your little licks along him, a tiny tongue wiggling through the grooves and smooth surface, reaching crevices with hidden nodes that cause his pedes to curl. Soft ruts of your hips press your soaked valve right up against him. He knows what you want. The medic brings a servo to grip around his spike with you squished between, only tight enough to keep you in place as he begins self-servicing himself. He hears you letting out a surprised gasp, then a muffled moan, feeling your grip tighten around him.

"Yeah? You like that, squishy?" Ratchet moans, moving his servo slightly faster, "I bet you-nghh do. You look so cute like that. So tiny pressed against my spike."

Only a taste of your warmth is given through your body, like the little tease you are. Ratchet feels the perspiration dripping off you, likely due to the rise of his internal temperature and the energon being solely diverted to his array. It makes for a mediocre yet acceptable lubrication. He could spike you with it alone, but Ratchet prefers to use alternate practices in the interest of your health. Primus knows how careless other Cybertronians can be with their pets.

The medic is becoming increasingly aware of his overload and yours by the looks of things, your little optics squeezed shut, and your limbs clamped tight around his girth. He consciously decides to stop before you reach it. The idea of you squirming on his spike played on his processor a bit too well. He hears your soft whine at the loss of friction, which Ratchet can't help but chuckle at.

"I know, I know. I'm so mean, aren't I? Hold on, squishy." Ratchet lets you rest against his palm while his weeping spike whirs and clunks inwards to a much more manageable size for a human. His spike may be smaller, but there's not much difference in sensation. Thank Primus for the minicon-compatability modes, "You alright?"

A small squeak from you, yes. The medic watches intently as you waste no time climbing on, guided by his careful servo. You press your little valve against the tip, hissing as it barely slips through. Ratchet digs his pedes into the berth at the intense sensation, gritting his dentae as you bottom out. The feeling is incomparable to anything else; it's uniquely organic, warm, and so, so much softer than mesh.

He then wraps his entire servo around you, effectively turning you into one perfect spike sleeve only for him. Perfectly snug inside you, his grip clenches and unclenches around your torso before gently unsheathing himself from you again.

Ratchet is always careful when he uses you in this manner, ensuring his grip isn't too tight. He pushes you back down again, and he feels you melt into his servo. He hears your little whimpers and cries for him, to go faster, he believes. He learned a long ago that he doesn't need to understand your verbal mumbles when your fleshy hips try to hastefully force yourself down onto him, only halted by his own hand. His grip ever so tightens and gives in to your desperation, or more or less his own.

"You're so good for me, squishy. Hah- Lettin' me use your little valve like a toy." Ratchet mewls, his helm lolling off to the side as his optics flick between your face and the way his spike disappears inside you, "Such a helpful little pet you are."

He feels your velvet walls clamp down on him with each and every praise he gives, your little arms draped over the top of his thumb, clinging on for dear life. Every now and then, he massages your breasts pressed up against it, eliciting more dirty moans from you. Such softness that he can't help but take advantage of.

"So- ngh- tight," Ratchet vents heavily, "Primus, you've ruined me for my own race."

He felt a twinge of shame hearing himself; it was as if he had entirely let himself go. But he knows he can no longer turn back, not when you're the best little creature to ever stumble into his life. Despite him having you wrapped around his digits, it is indeed him wrapped around yours. The relief you bring to him after every gruelling shift, after every stressful day upon this damned ship, had him truly addicted.

And with an internal affirmation of decadence and with your soft little valve clenching and pulsing around his spike, he's sent right over the edge.

"Frag yes, sweetspark!-" He glitches out, pressing you down on his thick shaft as far as your soft little body can tolerate. His energon pulses deeply and shocks his entire body with an overload, shooting gush after gush of transfluids into you. His frame lurches forward, his hips driving into the berth as he milks his throbbing spike, his servo driving it deeper into you in a lust-filled daze. Your whines and cries only spur him on more, and he doesn't stop until you're shaking like a leaf in his hold.

It takes only a few more moments for a spent Ratchet to collapse back with you still in his grip, albeit slumped against his thumb. You're panting hard, and he can only just feel your tiny heart pounding against him. You must have had your own overload by the looks of it if the bliss-filled smile on your soft lips is anything to go by. His optics linger down to your soft, distended stomach and the dripping mess that splatters across your thighs and onto his pelvic plating. Now that truly is a sight for sore optics, he thinks to himself.

Ratchet huffs, bringing his other servo to pat the top of your head, "Now there's my happy little human, huh?" He smiles warmly when he feels you leaning into his touch, "How 'bout I fill you up some more?"

If this was what it took for the old medic to de-stress and relax, then so be it. If he were to be exposed to the rest of the crew, then may he join the rest of them. In secret, for now, he will proudly declare himself a lover of organic flesh.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 1: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 2, here.)

(part 3, here.)

Agatha learned spanish for Rio, obviously—and spices up her dialogue with Spanish phrases out of habit. I assume she also knows other languages, being alive for as long as she has.

But I'd also like to think that language-learning gradually becomes something they all surprise each other with. And this is definitely super self-indulgent, because I'm always ecstatic when my native English-speaker friends are interested in learning my language.

For example, I definitely think Billy would ask Alice to teach him korean—and she'd be really excited for that. Not to mention, I feel like Billy just has the vibe of someone who'd be interested in learning different languages. (and korean in particular I think he'd definitely find interesting.)

I also definitely think Jen would try learning Sicilian for Lilia, considering the effort she makes to understand her and keep her comfortable towards the end. Lilia would be so moved, because she probably hasn't spoken to anyone in her mother-tongue in centuries. Like, it's literally considered an endanged language. (“Currently considered a “vulnerable” language by UNESCO, Sicilian faces increasing pressure from standard Italian, though it remains stronger than nearly all other Italian language varieties.”)

Mrs. Davis loves making food for all of them, always trying to diversify her cooking to suit their appetites, their cultures, the things each of them can eat, etc. It's a lot, but she doesn't mind!! She's a grandma!! She loves feeding people—and she missed having someone to cook for.

She grows her greens all by herself, too. Rio occasionally helps her with weeding and stuff. Mrs. Davis is freaked out by her rancid vibes at first, but ends up saying she's a “very sweet girl,” to which everyone responds by staring at her horrified.

Mrs. Davis would also definitely make a chore chart for everyone, but it never works out for a NUMBER of reasons.

First or all, Agatha always skips her turn with cleaning, saying that “she forgot.” She knows that either Billy or Sharon will just take care of it anyways. (Jen refuses to do any of Agatha's chores. “She can either do it by herself or drown in her own garbage-”)

Lilia always gets distracted and leaves her chores unfinished. She can only ever remember laundry, for some reason—she does everyone's laundry. But other than that, jeez. My girl is messy and that's okay. She has her very own unique way of finding where she puts her stuff, but others would merely call it chaos. Jen always picks up after her—and Lilia always huffs and puffs about how, “well now I can't find anything!”

Alice is the sort of person who accidentally creates messes everywhere, then stuffs everything wherever she finds. In drawers, under beds, you name it. Very, “out of sight, out of mind.” Like, she probably has “a chair” where she throws all her clothes.

Billy is very responsible, always abiding to the chore chart and oftentimes doing Agatha's chores too.

Jen is a total neat freak. She wants everything to be organised and under control—and she needs everything to smell nice.

She always makes the others scented candles. Agatha claims they're “useless garbage,” but uses them anyways.

Jen is also the one who usually keeps track of the bills and expenses, since she earns the most through her, “real job.”

Lilia is the sort of person to get lost in the mall, or even just the super-market. Alice has needed to look for her more than once.

Agatha loves crushing Jen's videos by appearing in the background and doing whatever bullshit she feels like.

Alice and Billy are everyone's mediators. Whenever someone gets in an argument, they're the ones who force them to work it out.

Alice is very protective of Sharon and Lilia, because she has mommy issues. Agatha has the opposite sort of mommy issues—but Sharon and Lilia treat them both like they're their kids.

The first time Billy brought Eddie to meet his coven, they literally put him through trials to decide whether he's worthy to date their son. Eddie is surprised he's been coven-approved.

“These women are insane, Billy—but then again, so am I for sticking around anyways.”

Eddie is very tired. His favourite coven members are Jen and Alice, who he considers the most normal. I REALLY think he'd fuck with Jen, because they're both so done with everyone else.

[mrfancyfoot]

Today I logged into facebook for the first time in nearly 4 years and went through every profile in my friends list (like ~300) and purged out all the assholes (anyone who openly voted for Trump, other conservatives, and those who I strongly believe did). I've done this before so there weren't many but there are a number that have been wishy-washy with being outward in their bigotry and it helps me keep a mental list of people that deserve only the most very basic level of respect that I can muster because they certainly do not respect me nor people I care about nor many of their fellow human beings. Most disheartening is seeing friends and family who continue to put effort into engaging with people who argue in bad faith and weaponized ignorance.

I dated a man for nearly a year who went to women's and pro-choice rallies and liberal groups with me and said many times that he "was on my side" but turned out to be lying the whole time because he knew I definitely wouldn't date him otherwise. I'd known him for years before since we ran in the same friend circle. I wasn't the only one he had fooled. He slowly lifted the mask until we were constantly arguing because of his bigoted and racist remarks. His favorite thing to do was act oppressed and show me the most obvious Russian propaganda that he would get upset at me for fact-checking and asking for real sources. He wanted to argue, so what he hated most was when I refused to argue with him. Nothing I said was going to change his mind, so I wasn't going to humor or tolerate it (we didn't last long after that point, but by that time, I was afraid of leaving without an excuse that would be "good enough" for him). He legitimately wants civil war so that he can play survival hero and feel validated in his hatred. It didn't come on quickly and a lot of the comments started as "odd" off the cuff things through the time that we dated. He was very much pretending to be a kind person and once really called out, that pretense dropped. He thought I was more like him and that a lot of my regard and kindness for others is "fake." Because that's what a lot of people like that do - they fake being kind for optics, they are not actually kind people, and therefore presume that everyone else is doing the same thing. It's given me major trust issues.

Can't say this enough: these people feel validation in their bigotry when you continue to associate with them. They need to be dropped. They need to learn that their shitty beliefs mean that they get shunned. Make them feel uncomfortable. Quit tiptoeing around and coddling their delicate little feelings because they might get upset. It's okay for them to get upset because someone was mean and told them they don't like them because they think gay and trans people shouldn't exist. I once made a post about how a raped 11 year old child should never be expected to give birth, was told that it was "god's will" and like 5 people piled on the guy so badly he told us to stop being "mean" to him and was terrified to talk to me at work ever again (I have since cut all ties and no longer work with him). I'm personally extremely tired of playing nice for the sake of possibly "converting" someone - especially because you can be polite in telling someone to fuck off with their beliefs. Their beliefs are dangerous, are going to result in people losing their lives, and a frightening number of them are completely okay with that. We need to stop being tolerant of intolerance. It is okay to cut people (including family) from your life when all their presence does is bring you stress and harm.

In a similar vain, don't let the people who chose not to vote (or "protest voted") stick their heads in the sand to escape blame. They are just as culpable as anyone else who directly voted for Trump and other conservatives. They need to grow the fuck up.

For a lot of liberals, it's really uncomfortable to be confrontational and feel like you're being intolerant of someone, but it's way past time to play hardball and call them out instead of coddling them, especially as we're going into the holiday season where many of us will be seeing family with shitty views and targeted family that may need someone to stand up for them. Let them know they're shitty and inappropriate and a disappointment and unworthy of your regard because they certainly lack it for others. Obviously still be safe, but many of us very likely aren't losing anything of value in that scenario. Not having bigoted family members in my life in any way has made me so much happier.

A helpful tip to those who may find themselves in a confrontation: do not stay engaged. Let your views be known and then disengage. Because many of them love to argue and feel like they're defending themselves (many are addicted to those feelings of hatred and overcoming "oppression"), what they don't like is being ignored and feeling like you're rinsing your hands of them. They don't deserve your stress and constant efforts. There are ways to open a dialogue when they are willing to discuss civilly with an open mind, but if they bring intolerance, just shut it down.

(via jhig8bd0cczd1.png (PNG Image, 744 × 810 pixels))

[bardic-inspirjaytion]

Right.

We didn't want to be in this position, but here we are. Americans, I'm so sorry. The coming years are going to be rough, and not everybody will make it through, and we still need to look out for each other and fight like hell for one another anyways.

The point of this post? Everything you were told after the repeal of RvW has a LOT more urgency now.

If you are someone in the age bracket and with the anatomy that could become pregnant,

If you were using an app to track your cycle, now you're absolutely fucking not. Switch to something analog that can be destroyed, and/or keep it cryptic enough that you have deniability that's what it's for. You are NOT giving anybody any ammunition here.

Likewise, no texting or messaging anything about your intimate health that you wouldn't want used against you. It won't hurt you to learn how to use apps like Signal and VPNs to obscure your online traffic now, even if things are still legal in your state. Got it? Good.

IF IT'S MEDICALLY VIABLE FOR YOU, INVESTIGATE GETTING AN IUD. Yes, the procedure to get one implanted sucks, it can hurt a lot and making the arrangements might cause you some gender dysphoria. But it can be effective at preventing pregnancy for YEARS once it's in there, and a lot of people who rely on hormonal BC to treat medical conditions find it gives them some continuing relief from their symptoms even if their daily medication stops being available. I am not a doctor; obviously this isn't qualified medical advice, and you need to seek such before undergoing any procedure. This is just a reminder that, if you've been putting this off, get it done now if it's safe and available to you.

Watch each other's backs, now more than ever. If somebody tells you sensitive information about their medical status, especially on the reproductive front, no they fucking didn't. If you know or suspect somebody is undergoing a process or procedure, no you fucking don't. It's officially Shut The Fuck Up Friday, every day.

Find which orgs in your area are doing the work on the ground to connect people to the care they need. If you need help, reach out. And if you can safely help them, consider doing so.

You're on the active lookout for misinformation now. If anything health-related seems too wild or too simple to be true, it gets a healthy dose of skepticism. Especially if it comes from an online source.

Take a moment. Take a deep breath. And then figure out what you can do now to prepare to keep yourself safe through the next few years. It's overwhelming out there this morning - please know that you matter. Tomorrow will come, every tide eventually turns, and you deserve to be alive and well when it does.

Love,

Your Canadian big sister

[runawaymun]

Two takeaways right now that I really cannot stress enough: 1) We cannot afford to keep spouting the "The American public is fucking stupid" and "Republicans are dumb and uneducated" rhetoric. I have already seen a new resurgence in the past 24 hours. Yes, it's true: One in five Americans are functionally illiterate. Many of them live in states like New Mexico and Mississippi, below the poverty line, with underfunded educational institutions, and very little access to resources to help them. A staggering amount of USAmericans read below a sixth grade level. This is not a moral failing. This is not their fault. This is a societal failing, an infrastructure failing. We've been failing the rust belt for decades and it's only getting worse. And it does not help our cause if we continue to turn up our noses and say they're all stupid cousin-kissing hillbillies who deserve what they're getting. That only helps Trump. That is how we got here. The division only helps the people in power to keep up the grift. As long as we continue to disparage and underestimate working people from the Midwest and the American South, we will continue to lose. They are tired of being condescended to, and that is why they like Trump. He at least pretends (badly, but he at least pretends) that he cares about their interests.

Remember this bit of propaganda?

All the way back from 1754?

We have to stop fighting each other. We cannot afford to continue saying 'Trumpers are stupid and hateful and uneducated' and continue this us-against-them mentality. It is JUST as bad as my Midwestern parents who say that Democrats are evil satanic child-killing communists. I grew up steeped in that environment. I fully believed it. Many people are just as scared as you are. They are working with the information they have. They believe they are doing the right thing, just as you do. They are watching their communities literally disintegrate and the only person that promises to bring them jobs is Donald Fucking Trump. And he is employing every propaganda tactic in the book to grift them. A big part of the lies the Republican party loves to spout is that they're persecuted and they're underdogs -- I grew up in this environment. It stems from an Evangelical worldview that to be righteous is to be persecuted. Disparaging these people, insulting them, condescending them, only feeds this narrative. The only way I got out of this mentality was by having access to community college, meeting kind people outside my bubble who were willing to have a conversation with me, and finally getting education that wasn't steeped in evangelical propaganda.

I invite you all to go and watch Megan Phelps-Roper's TEDtalk (or read her book, it's excellent) about how she left her family's cult. The only thing that broke through that fog of 'We are persecuted and therefore righteous' was when people stopped throwing cups of hot liquid and piss at her (when she was a child!), and started being kind and empathetic. We all can stand to learn a lot from stories like hers. The second that evil god-hating people started being kind to her was the second she began to question everything she'd been taught.

Yes, it's very easy to look at these people spewing hateful rhetoric and label them as evil. But they're not. The people exploiting all of us are evil. The people exploiting fear and division are evil. We need to call for accountability with news outlets, to fund grass-roots efforts to give adults with educational gaps access to help. Many of them simply could not continue going to school because their families were impoverished and they had to work so they could fucking eat. Many of them have undiagnosed disabilities because they do not have insurance to even go to a doctor. To be ignorant is not a moral failing. Willful ignorance? Absolutely. But ignorance, no. The only thing we can do now is be kind, invite people into discussion, and remember that the only enemy is the oppressor in power who views everybody as pawns and dollar signs. We are all the same to them.

2) Please do not fall into the trap of thinking this means that your vote does not count. Voting is more important than ever. You need to vote in your local elections. You need to. The Senate and the House are the lawmakers and the people in charge of declaring war. They have term limits. They are not untouchable. They are the only people now who are capable of checking Trump. And your local mayors, councils, etc are the people who are going to make the real difference between public healthcare, good education, censorship, civil rights, housing, etc. States have an immense amount of freedom to operate. That is how I have access to incredible free healthcare in mine. That is how we have one of the best public transit systems in the country. That is how we placed penalties on industries and got rid of smog and heavy pollution in the 70s. That is how we have gay bars and drag brunches and well-funded libraries. That is all local-government stuff. If you want your communities to change, you HAVE to vote locally. Please, please, please do not give up and think your vote doesn't matter. It does. It matters immensely.

[mynameismckenziemae]

🕸mm’s kinktober 2024🕷

Cockwarming // Collaring

Bradley Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake Seresin

(This is the throuple from I Love You Two but can be read as a stand-alone).

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only! MDNI!

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

“Keep going,” Bradley murmurs as you slowly sink down on his cock, gasping again at the fullness with the plug in your ass, “I know you can take it.”

Bradley’s patience is endless. It’s something you normally appreciate, but not when he’s punishing you. It’s been close to an hour that he’s been making you warm his cock; keeping you on edge the whole time by making you lift up before guiding you back down to repeat the torture.

Body trembling, you pause to look back at Bradley, waiting for his reaction when Jake whines from his place in the corner.

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

Bradley had texted earlier that he would be a little late coming home and that you and Jake needed to wait for him. It only took one look when he saw Jake’s head between your thighs when he walked in the door to know you were both in trouble.

“I told you to wait,” Bradley punctuates his words with quick, harsh slaps to Jake’s ass.

Arousal coats your thighs from your place in the corner. It doesn’t matter that you’re not able to watch, just the sound of Jake getting spanked is turning you on. Knowing you’re next isn’t helping either…

“I had plans,” Bradley sighs as he pauses the assault, and when Jake moans, you know he’s rubbing the sting out, “I got you both a little something but I don’t know if either of you deserves it.”

Though Bradley was deliciously mean when he wanted to be, he couldn’t resist slipping the braided leather collar around Jake’s neck while he sucked him off before it was your turn over his lap.

“There’s 3 strands,” Bradley sighed as Jake pushed him quickly to the edge with his mouth, “tied together; like we are.”

Later, he clasped the choker around your neck after pulling you up, your trembling back to his chest while the tears still fell from your eyes.

“There’s one for me too,” he said loud enough for Jake to hear, “maybe I’ll wear it sometime if the two of you can ever behave.”

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he nips your bottom lip as his hands guide your hips down further before he says to Jake, “and I told you to be quiet. Were you lying when I asked if you learned your lesson?”

“No sir,” you answer quickly, wincing and sucking in a shaky breath when the tender skin of your ass meets Bradley’s hips again.

“What about you?” Bradley asks Jake while his hands find your waist, keeping you still, “Do you need another trip across my lap, princess?”

“No sir,” Jake moans, ass clenching around the blue-jeweled plug Bradley pushed inside before turning it as red as yours feels.

“That’s what I thought,” Bradley chuckles, “Alright, c’mere. No,” he shakes his head when Jake begins to rise, “crawl.”

Jake’s flush spans over his chest, neck, and face as he swallows thickly before crawling across the room. His humiliation is obvious but his cock hangs hard and heavy between his thighs, dripping precum on the floor.

“Isn’t he pretty?” Bradley breathes against your neck, reaching out to slide his fingers under the collar when he gets close enough.

“He is,��� you agree, wanting to reach for him too but not knowing if it’s allowed and not wanting to find out the hard way if it isn’t.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Bradley says, tugging a little, “she’s gonna suck your cock while she rides me. Neither of you can cum before me.”

Jake’s eyes flick to yours and he gulps when he sees the mischievous look reflecting back at him.

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

A/N: I just adore mean!dom!bradley 😮‍💨

Tagging:

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@seitmai

@emerald-jade1

@alwayshave-faith

@lunatygerqueen

@ahotmesswithprivilege

[sparkleofpizza]

The Alchemy

Melbourne, Australia, 2019

I was nervous, I knew you shouldn't be, but I was.

The sun was shining bright down at the Melbourne Circuit, you could hear the delighted conversations from fans just outside of the motorhome. Everyone was excited for the upcoming season of Formula 1, with new drivers and grid line up changes. And I was one of the new faces at the paddock, although not a driver.

I’ve been no stranger to this whole life at the paddock and following Formula 1. I grew up with it as I’d follow my father around since the moment i learned how to walk.

Jenson Button, former Formula 1 driver and world champion. I carried my last name with pride, I love my dad more than anything in the world, but the moment I showed genuine interest in the motorsport world people started to talk.

So now, I can't help but wonder, what is everyone going to say the minute you walk into the paddock as not a guest, but as a McLaren intern.

Sure, I will be the first to admit that having the Button last name did help I get this internship, but I conclude the training to be here on your effort, with my intelligence, my studies and everything I prepared myself for.

I knew working at the PR department didn't come easy in the motorsport world, I not only had to deal with PR, reporters, FIA, and the drivers, but you had to understand the dynamic of the sport, of the car, and everything else in case I needed to step up to give a statement on behalf of a driver or the team.

I spent countless days, in 2018, going over the FIA regulations, learning about the cars, all while taking classes in UNI and juggling the McLaren PR training.

Someone called out my name in a soothing manner. I lifted your head, meeting Sophie's smile. Behind her there were two men, one standing tall and proud and the other a bit more awkwardly. I knew very well who they were as I will be working close to them.

"Hi, Sophie." I smile at her "Would you like to join me for coffee?"

She nods, taking a sit across from me and gesturing the two men to do the same.

"I wanted to introduce you three properly since you'll be working close together." She says "These are our 2019 drivers, Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris. This is Y/n, she is our new PR intern."

I smile at both of them.

“It’s nice to finally meet you both.”

Carlos smiles “Likewise, I hope we get along well, the three newbies of McLaren.”

I laugh at his little joke and Lando follows suit with his own laughter that is a bit too contagious.

He seems a bit shy, maybe it’s because it’s his first season in Formula 1 and he feels like he has a lot to prove. In a sense I relate to him. We’re both here to show we’re good and deserve to be here.

And without even speaking for more than 5 minutes with him, I can already feel that we’re going to be friends soon enough.

Xangai, China, 2019

I have my back turned to the door of McLaren hospitality as I fumble with the coffee machine. It’s very early in the morning on Friday, a few hours away from the start of free practice. I am feeling exhausted from the long flight from England to China and the different time zones.

“It seems like the coffee machine is winning the fight.” A voice cut through the silence of the hospitality.

I turn around to find Lando standing beside me with a smile on his face, showing his dimples and amusement.

“I can’t get it to make coffee, I think it’s broken.” I complain with a huff

“Did you turn it on?” He asks me amused

“What?”

“Did you turn on the machine?”

“Of course I…” He reaches his arm across from me, pushing a button and the coffee machine beeps before finally brewing my coffee. I feel my cheeks go warm in embarrassment “Sorry, I’m uh still half asleep.”

He giggles, that infectious laugh of his that I always find myself smiling and giggling along whenever I hear it. If there is one thing I have already learned from Lando, it's that it’s nearly impossible to be serious around him. He carries this natural good natured aura, and he’s funny and likes to make jokes and see the good side of things. And whenever I’m around him I find myself a giggling mess.

We grab our cups of coffee and take a seat at one of the comfortable arm chairs at the corner of the room.

“You look tired.” Lando points out, sipping his coffee.

“I’m jet lagged, and I had a paper to turn in for uni so I stayed up until late and I only got a few hours of sleep on the plane because I had to review the questions for yesterday’s press conference.” I tell him, basically chugging down my coffee “Do you think I’d get fired if I drank Red Bull?”

He shakes his head.

“You should get some sleep during FP1.” He tells me

I sigh “Yeah, but it’s not really worth the drive back to the hotel, I will probably only manage a twenty minute nap before I have to come back here.”

“You can nap in my driver's room.” He offers, a friendly smile on his face

“Oh, no, I can’t accept it.” I shake my head “Thank you, thought.”

Lando smiles, leaning over the armrest of his seat to get closer to me.

“I insist. You need sleep to be on top of your game. Come on.” He stands up offering his hand. I eye it for a moment before accepting it. He pulls me up to my feet.

He guides me through the corridors of the hospitality until we reach his driver’s room. He opens the door and I’m a bit surprised at how neat it looks. I half expected it to be a mess of clothes.

“Here, you can sleep on the couch, it isn’t much but it’s better than nothing.”

“Thank you.” I smile, sitting on the couch and taking off my shoes.

I get into a comfortable position, curling up on the couch and instantly closing my eyes. I feel something soft covering me and I open my eyes a bit confused.

“I don’t have a blanket.” Lando says, his cheeks turning red. “So I uh… covered you with my jacket.”

I feel my chest grow warm at his sweet gesture. I smile at him.

“Thank you, Lando.”

He smiles back at me, and at that moment, I think is when I started to have a crush on him.

Barcelona, Spain, 2019

I should have expected Spain to be a bit insane considering the fact that I work with a Spanish driver. The minute I stepped out of the car with Carlos following behind me, the fans started to scream and throw themselves at us.

I’m not unfamiliar with the whole passionate fans wanting pictures and autographs, but since I used be a toddler or a child, they at least head the decency to not push and pull at my dad because I was clinging to him.

But now I am an adult, and they don’t care about those things anymore and I had never been mobbed by fans before without having my dad or my uncles by my side.

The fans screamed at Carlos who was doing his best to attend each and every single one of them. And things only got worse when Lando arrived and they suddenly wanted pictures of the best new funny duo of the grid.

They pulled at me, shoving pictures on my face to get them to sign since I worked with them, and they yelled questions about what it was like to work with the both young drivers.

I tried to step away, get away from them fans, but I was stuck in between the mass of people and to make matters worse they managed to separate me from Carlos and Lando who were looking at me concerned over the chaos.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck is going on?” A harsh loud voice cut through the yell of fans “Stop pulling at her! Get your hands off of her!”

Suddenly a tall blonde man dressed in red was pushing the fans away from me, shielding me with his body as he yelled.

I cling to the back of Sebastian's Ferrari shirt, telling like a little girl again, but completely relieved that he was there with me with his familiar force of comfort he always knew how to bring me.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, gluing me to his side and I knew if I wasn’t 20 years old anymore he would have picked me up and carried me like a toddler out of this mess. He glared at everyone who tried to get in our way and stirred me inside the paddock.

“Prinzessi.” Sebastian called me the same nickname from when he first met me as a newborn “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head “No, I’m… I’m fine.” I say, but my voice is shaky and he can tell that I’m holding back tears.

He places his hands on my shoulders, peering down at me with intense concerned eyes as he scans my body to look for any injury.

“What the hell is wrong with you both?” Sebastian yells the minute Lando and Carlos finally catch up to us “They were eating her alive!”

They look sheepish and terrified of being scolded by the German who looks lived with anger.

“She’s your PR assistant, but you’re supposed to keep your fans in check to keep her safe!” Sebastian continues with the harsh tone “She could have gotten hurt! They were touching her and shoving her! That was so reckless from the both of you!”

They nod, stiffly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vettel.” Lando says, eyes wide “I promise this will never happen again. I’ll- I’ll make sure she is safe at all times from now own. I- I swear!”

Sebastian doesn’t correct him on the Mr. Vettel name calling, he nods still with a glare.

“Come on, prinzessin.” He says in a much more soft tone, his arm resting against my shoulder in a protective parental manner “Let’s get you to Ferrari, uh? I will get you one of those chocolate pastries you love so much.”

With one final glare Sebastian takes me away from them. The McLaren drivers share a confused look as they watch me walk away.

Monte Carlo, Monaco, 2019

The Monaco Grand Prix is always a big event. Lots of celebrities and former drivers gather in the city to watch the historical race, and that’s how I find myself sitting at the McLaren hospitality chatting away with uncle Nico while my dad gets us drinks.

“Are you sure you don’t want to watch the race from Mercedes, uncle Nico?” I ask him, making my best innocent look that always got me away with things when I was younger and probably until this day when it comes to the drivers who watch me grow up.

“No, of course not.” Nico Rosberg shakes his head, a found and almost proud smile on his face “This is the first race I am watching this season in person and you’re officially a Formula 1 employee, I’m staying all weekend here with you at McLaren.”

I want to argue with him that I’m not technically a F1 employee as I’m just an intern, but he gives me a pointed look and I only nod.

“So, what is this that I hear about you and a rookie driver?”

I widen my eyes as I look at him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Nico laughs at me “Seb has told me that you’ve become inseparable from the rookie McLaren driver, Norris.”

I huff, I should have known uncle Sebastian would open his mouth and gossip about me to his retired friends.

As if being summoned, Lando walked into the McLaren hospitality, wearing his cap backwards and smiling big as always. Carlos is beside him as usual and they both make their way over once they spot me.

“Hola, pequenita.” Carlos greets me, ruffling my hair affectionately before spotting Nico sitting across for me and getting a bit embarrassed.

Lando stands beside me ready to make a joke when he notices Carlos’ expression and widening his eyes when he sees Nico as well.

“Hello, Nico.” Carlos greets him

“Carlos, always good to see you.” He smiles before turning to Lando “And you must be one of the 2019 rookies, Lando?”

Lando nods quickly “Yeah, yeah. That’s me, nice to meet you Mr. Rosberg.”

Nico’s smile widens as Lando addresses him as Mr. Rosberg, feeling pleased with himself. I shot him a warning glare.

“Please, join us.” He says, motioning for the boys to the empty seats.

Lando sits beside me as Carlos sits across from me, leaving one empty space at the head of the table.

Nico makes light conversation, asking mostly questions about Formula 1, but I could see the glint in his eyes every time he asked Lando something, who seemed incredibly shy at receiving attention from a World Champion.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get the drinks, I ran into some old friends.” My dad says walking to the table with a glass of my favorite refreshing drink to have in Monaco “There you go, sweetheart.”

I smile, accepting the drink “Thank you, dad.”

Lando and Carlos both choke on their saliva at the same time when they hear me call Jensen Button my dad.

“Ah, just the men I wanted to meet!” He exclaims “Carlos, Lando, you both have been doing such good jobs here at McLaren. My daughter talks a lot about you.”

I watch as they become flustered over the news. My dad smiles, taking a sit at the head of the table.

“I heard you both let her get swamped by a mob of fans?” He asks with a smile, but I can see the hard look in his eyes.

“Dad!” I scold him “Uncle Seb already gave them a hard time!”

My father chuckles, soon being followed by Nico. Carlos and Lando’s eyes are wide and they look terrified.

“I know, I know.” My dad lifts his hands in surrender “I’m just messing with them. But I still have eyes and ears on the paddock so…”

“Dad!” I scold him once more.

He laughs again and finally switch subjects, talking about the new grid line up of this year and asking questions to Lando and Carlos who seem to become a bit more comfortable at the presence of Jenson Button and Nico Rosberg.

Hockenheim, Germany, 2019

Lando was in a bad mood, I could tell it from far away. He was moving frantically around the garage and he had a scowl on his face.

The past five races have been of ups and downs from him, he had two DNF, one race out of top ten because he got p11 and two races where he scored points. But he was pissed off still from his p11 on his home race in England.

It also didn’t help that the reporter he got placed with decided to improvise some questions that wasn’t pre approved and it made Lando uncomfortable with the way he was pressing on the matter of him doing a bad job at his home race.

And then, to make matters worse, he DNFed again today.

“Lando.” I say his name in a soft tone

He whips his head quickly towards me, a deep frown on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault.” I say, I place a hand on his forearm, squeezing it in reassurance “It’s raining terribly today, everyone is spinning.”

He huffs annoyed.

“I should be good at racing in the rain.” He complains.

“How many times have you raced in this circuit?” I ask him, calmly.

“Well- this was the first time, but…”

I cut him off “And how many times have you raced in the rain in a Formula 1 car?”

Lando blinks at me as he answers “This was also the first time.”

I nod, my thumb rubbing sof circles on his forearm.

“And how do you expect to be good at something you’re doing for the first time?”

He looks away from me, and I can tell he is staring to consider my words.

“Valtteri has been doing this for a long time and he also crashed.” I tell him.

That get him to look at me again, his frown turning into something a bit more hopeful.

“Bottas didn’t finish the race?”

I shake my head “No, he didn’t. Even the experienced ones are having a hard time out there. This is only your first race in the rain, Lando.”

He sighs, and slowly he nods his head. He shifts his arm, making my hand slide down and towards his. His hand is much bigger than mine and it’s warm despite the cold weather from the rain. He squeezes my hand.

“Thank you. I just-…”

I smile at him, squeezing his hand back.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

And for the first time since he DNFed, I saw Lando’s dimples as he smiled at me.

Marina Bay, Singapore, 2019

Singapore has always been a hard circuit. The warmth and humidity did no good for the drivers to be racing for long periods of time. Still, it’s one of my favorite circuits because I find it beautiful to watch the race at night.

I’m watching from the McLaren garage, this time considering the hot weather conditions, they allowed the PR team to wear lighter clothes, so I’m in a simple dress, standing close to the AC and sipping water every few minutes.

I wince when I watch Carlos spin and crash into the barrier. The garage grows quiet for a minute.

“He’s ok!” His race engineer announces and we all finally breath normally again

A few moments later Carlos enters the garage with an annoyed look on his face. He places his helmet on one of the shelves and go to speak to his team.

I keep my eyes trained on the screen to watch Lando’s progress while I look for the schedule of reporters who want a world with Carlos after his DNF.

I accept the request of two journalists and move over to where Carlos is.

“Hey… you ready for some interviews?” I ask, eyeing him

He clenched his jaw before nodding and following me out of the garage and onto the media pan.

I give out instructions to him on the way there and step back when he positions himself to give the interviews. I watch intensely, jotting out necessary information on my iPad and ready to intervene at any given moment, but despite the bad situation, the interviews go smoothly and soon enough we’re back at the garage.

Carlos excuses himself to go shower and change clothes, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

In a blur of moments I watch as uncle Seb wins the Singapore Grand Prix, a proud smile on my face. Lando finishes in p7 which is great since he’s on the pointing zone.

“Congratulations, Lando. You did a really good job today!” I tell him

His smile grows bigger “Thank you, thank you!”

Even though he’s happy, I can notice the tiredness ok his face. He’s completely drenched in swest and I can see the slightly tremor of his hands, probably about to begin an hypoglycemic episode without even realizing.

“Hey, why don’t you take a sit?” I say, gently grabbing both his arms and walking him to a chair. I move quickly as I push my water bottle into his hands and search for a snack “Here.”

Lando looks at me a bit confused, but obliged.

“Oh.. wow.” He chuckles “How did you even know how to do this? I didn’t even realize I was feeling weak.”

I smile, my hand twitches at my side as I feel the want to run my fingers over his curls.

“I’ve been on the watching side of this sport since I learned how to walk. I learned a thing or two.”

He nods, still munching on the chocolate protein bar I gave him.

“Yeah… I uh sometimes forget you’re the Jenson Button’s daughter.”

“I’m glad you do.”

Lando tilts his head to the side, confused, but doesn’t say anything and I’m grateful for that.

Austin, United States, 2019

The season is coming to an end, thankfully. All the traveling, working and university studying at the same time has been taking a toll on me. It is too much, and I could see it every time I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror. The circles staring back at me.

My body was sore, my throat scratchy and my head hurt. I knew the flu was making it’s way to dominate my body.

Still, I put on makeup to cover up my sickness face and went to the paddock for media day.

“Buenos dias!” Carlos greeted me once I entered the van and sat across from him and beside Lando who was bouncing with energy on the seat

“Good morning.” I say, cringing a little at the way my voice sounded

Lando frowned, pushing his face close to mine to examine me.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a low voice, his brows furrowing

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Still, he kept analyzing me. From the corner of my eyes I could see Carlos lips turn upwards in a smile he hid behind his phone as he scrolled through it.

Lando said my name slowly, softly.

“You look sick.”

I pout slightly as I say “Geez, thank you for saying I look terrible.”

He huffs, clearly not finding my attempt to brush it off as funny as I did. He lifted his hand up before placing it on my forehead.

“You’re hot.”

“Oh, so now I’m…”

“Stop trying to deflect it.” Lando cuts me off before I can make another joke. “You’re sick. Why didn’t you say anything? You should be in bed resting.”

I shake my head, getting away from his hand.

“I’m not sick. I’m great. I’m just jet lagged and a bit tired, nothing some coffee won’t fix.”

Lando frowns and it takes me by surprise to see the irritated look on his face directed at me. Sure, I’ve seen him mad before when the race doesn’t go the way expected or when the media gets too much, but never aimed at me.

“I’ve seen you jet lagged and tired before and this is not it.”

I say his name in a sigh and he says my name in a warning. We stared at each other for what feels like forever, before Carlos giggles at us and says we arrived at the paddock.

The minute I get out of the van I start to quickly walk inside the paddock, scanning my pass, knowing the guys will stop to talk to the fans and I will be free of Lando’s questioning. I start to make my way to the McLaren hospitality when I feel a large hand land on my shoulder.

I flinch in surprise, whipping my head around and finding Lando beside me, still frowning.

“Lando.” I try to sound stern as I say his name, but it gets mixed up with a cough I try to hold in.

That only makes his frown deepen. He starts to drag me somewhere.

“You’re going to the medic center now.” He says, stern.

I complain and try to stand still, but he is taller, bigger and much stronger than me so he basically drags me.

I can see some people turning around to look at us, but I keep telling him to let go.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sebastian shows up in front of us, hands on his waist and I know that behind his sunglasses he is glaring at Lando. “What is going on here?”

“She’s sick and she’s being stubborn about it.” Lando says, still holding onto my shoulder “So I’m taking her to the medic center.”

Sebastian frowns, placing his sunglasses on top of his head as he takes a step closer to me.

“I’m not sick.” I say “Lando is being dramatic. Tell him to leave me alone.”

“She is sick! She even has a fever!”

Sebastian looks between the two of us, but he knows me long enough to know I am lying. He places a hand on my forehead.

“Norris ir right, you do have a fever, prinzessin.”

“No I don’t.” I say stubbornly.

He arches an eyebrow, as if challenging me.

“Do you want me to carry you to the medic center like you’re still a tiny baby?” He asks and I shake my head quickly, knowing very well he isn’t bluffing “Then let Norris take you and follow everything the medics say.”

“But Sebby!” I whine.

“Prinzessin.” He gives me an unimpressed look “Go to the medic center with Norris, now. And I’m not asking, I am telling you to go.”

I huff with a pout, knowing I won’t win this argument so I let Lando take me to the medic center while Sebastian watches from the distant as the McLaren rookie fusses over me.

Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2019

The paddock was busier than ever, so many people with so many big smiles and shouts of happiness.

It’s the last race of the season and it leaves a bittersweet feeling on my chest. On one hand I am extremely happy that the season is finally over and I will be able to go back to a somewhat normal routine, going to college everyday, normal sleep schedules, as normal as an university student sleep schedule can go, and staying at home for a bit.

But at the same time, I am upset about being away from Formula 1 for the time being. I got used to seeing Lando and Carlos everyday, they are already a big important part of my life. I like the thrill of being in a different place every other week, of learning new things and watching the races.

I’m sitting at the VIP lounge section at the rooftop, overlooking the paddock bustling with activities. I’m sipping an Italian soda while I soak in the last moments of the 2019 season.

I don’t say anything as Lando slips quietly on the seat beside me. He has dark sunglasses perched on the top of his nose and he’s wearing a black McLaren shirt. His thigh brushes my slightly to gather my attention.

I shift in my seat to look at him and he already has that dimple smile on his face.

“It’s been a long year, huh?” He says quietly

I nod, smiling softly at him.

“It has been… feels like it was yesterday that I meet you and Carlos on my first day at the paddock.”

He hums, reaching out for my glass of Italian soda and taking a sip without even asking for it. I don’t mind, it’s normal between us by now.

“How was your first year as a Formula 1 employee?” He asks

“Better than I expected to be honest.” I tell him, playing with the hem of my dress “I didn’t get bad words from people for being Jenson Button’s daughter.”

Lando nods, understanding what I’m hinting at.

“You’ve been doing a good job, I think you’ve proved yourself here.”

“No, I haven’t yet.” I tell him. “But what about you? How was your first year as a Formula 1 driver?”

His smile widens “It was insane. Sometimes still feels like I’m dreaming. I know the results I’ve been getting aren’t ideal yet, but being here… it’s great.” I can tell he’s happy by the way his eyes lit up “I got so luck to have a good teammate.”

I nod, he sure indeed found a friend in Carlos.

“And even luckier to have the most beautiful and incredible PR intern.”

My cheeks grow hot the minute my brain register and processes his words. I lift my eyes to look at him, his cheeks are also tinted pink and he was a sweet smile on his face.

We stare at each other for a moment, only gazing in each others eyes. I reach for his hand and he squeezes mine in his big one.

“Will you be here with me next year?” Lando asks in a soft tone.

“Yes.” I breath out “I’ll be here with you next year.”

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

More Nekoma hcs

• One time after an intense match Kuroo makes the mistake of taking the whole team out for hot pot, his treat. Never again. His wallet is in SHAMBLES, especially after the menaces that are Inuoka, Tora, Fukunaga, and Yaku get their hands on the meat menu. At least Kai helped with the bill

• Yaku is secretly super sappy— he gets emotional when reminiscing about the past, he loves romance manga, he tears up at sad movies, etc etc. Kai and Kuroo know about it and love teasing him in private but would never expose his softer side to the rest of the team. He totally bawls at graduation though and no one's suprised (they all knew)

• Shibayama and Inuoka are little gossips, they're always whispering to each other and giggling behind their hands (kinda like Tsuki and Yamaguchi but less bitchy lmao). They're the types to have conversations entirely made of inside jokes so if you hear them in passing it sounds like incoherent gibberish

• Thinking about that panel of Fukunaga holding an entire bunch of bananas, I think he'd bring whole-ass watermelons to school and scoop them out with a spoon for lunch. At first Tora’s appalled by it— as he is with most things Fukunaga does— but eventually he joins in. You’ll often find them hunched over a melon in the courtyard shoveling away like maniacs and spitting seeds into the air. Kenma thinks its the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen

• While we're talking about manga panels look at Inuoka swinging his tie around in the bg. He never ties it right, it drives Shibayama insane so he fixes it for him.

• One thing I like about stage play Kai is that he kinda has a short fuse and is a bit more sarcastic. I think he deserves a good scream in the club room at least once a week (Kuroo and Yaku guard the door so he can do it in peace)

• The third years are kinda like the Date Tech Alums in that they just show up to random practice games and heckle the team from the stands. Yaku's screaming at Lev about his form, Kuroo's teasing Kenma and Tora, Kai made a bingo sheet.

• Fukunaga has the kind of ADHD where he picks up a new hobby every week. Sometimes he's in the club room crocheting, sometimes he's learning yo-yo tricks, folding intricate paper cranes, rubix cubes, cup stacking, card shuffling, juggling, you name it. His favorite will always be cooking though, he uses the team as a test audience for new recipies.

[2danesand1cat]

The themes of regret, grief, and guilt have been in my mind lately, particularly regarding my sweet angel child-Damian.

It’s a pretty consistent theme in the comics that Damian believes he is not good enough, he’s a monster, that he’s not like his father or siblings, and that he’s full of uncontrollable anger, malice, and spite.

And while of course each batkid (and especially Bruce) have their own unique experiences with guilt and regret, I can’t help but imagine what all of that must feel like to a kid so young, who is incredibly skilled and highly intelligent, yet also very naive in a way that a child is about the world and their place in it.

Damian is frustrated when people don’t understand his harshness and his intense motivations, as it creates a barrier in the way he relates to his family. Additionally, he is barely able to step out of his own perspective as a child, preteen, and even young teenager to understand other people’s ways and motivations. This would certainly be incredibly isolating, having this drive and intensity you were tortured to develop and that you are now being told is wrong even though that’s all you know. But more than anything, he just wants to please someone, and it feels like they just keep misunderstanding him. This, of course, is not to say they didn’t try. Dick, Alfred and Bruce are his heroes for a damn good reason, but it took a great deal of time and constant redirection.

Even now, as an early teen, he’s still struggling with maintaining all the work he’s done on himself to reframe his self image and control his emotions. YOU KNOW HOW DIFFICULT IT IS FOR A 14/15 YEAR OLD TO CONTROL THEIR EMOTIONS?!?!

Do you know how much guilt and regret that must take, to keep him on track?

His desire to please is so strong because each small bit of praise that he earns reinforces this very feeble idea that, maybe, just maybe, he is good, and is doing something right. Each time he hears these things, it slowly erodes that constant weight on his tiny little shoulders of the guilt he carries everyday.

I can’t help but think of all the times he pleaded with himself and some high figure or something to “please, make me good like Richard. Help me be better. Help me be like Father. Please, please please” as silent sobs gripped his tiny frame and tears poured down onto his pillow.

Or all the times where he is sketching or training or just trying to exist and is hit with a wave of guilt as he has a flashback about his time in the league or even his early days in Gotham. Those are the days when his sketches get crumped because “it’s not worth it to even try to create something beautiful” in those moments. And how he refuses to wrap his hands as he hits the punching bag over and over again, feeling a small bit of relief at every spilt knuckle because “I deserve this pain” is all he can think.

Still til this day, as nightmares come and go, he lies there in bed and repeats to himself that “yes, that was me, i did kill, i did slaughter”, and even though what he just experienced in his dream wasn’t real, it was all at one time very, very real.

There were times when he wouldn’t eat breakfast after he lay up all night, coming to terms with his past self, reasoning that breakfast is for people that deserve it. He must instead punish his body for the its sins. Seeking comfort to placate his conscious was weakness as well. He did his best to hide his guilt and suffering from Dick and Alfred and Bruce, as it was not their cross to bear.

What he forgets, and still often forgets, is that he is and was just a child. And what he is trying to learn is that everyone has regrets, but we are not our past, we are our efforts to create a better future self. It gets a little better each day. He is trying.

At least now, he has given himself the permission to seek out the love and comfort he so desperately craves. When he silently pads into Bruce’s room at night, Bruce understands. They don’t speak, not then at least, but Damian no longer constantly denies himself the goodness that he is learning he deserves.

[brotherwtf]

Having thoughts about age gap au Gale hiding an injury/illness from John because his dad always made him feel like a burden and that hurt was deserved 💔 and John losing his mind but trying not to show it as he takes care of Gale, or maybe he doesn't get to because Gale has to go to the hospital and John gets the call while he's at work </3 these boys can fit so much whump and trauma and comfort

ughhhh yes putting Gale into the whump blender again :(( I want to traumatize this boy forever that is my lot in life

----

Gale knew to never show weakness. It's what he was taught from an incredibly young age, weakness meant you could be picked from the crowd, weakness meant that you weren't good enough.

There was a lot of things Gale's father viewed as a weakness. Being sick, scraping your knees, getting hurt and you better not think about crying because at that point you'd be better off dead anyway. Gale learned to hide it whenever he got sick, to lick his wounds in solitude, and to never, ever, ask for help or pity.

So Gale didn't even flinch when he woke up with a 102 degree fever. He's lived through worse, no need to be a baby about it. He got ready for his classes like normal, kissed John goodbye, and waved off his looks of concern when John pressed his cheek to Gales forehead, fretted about him running hot. Gale was fine, he didn't need John's help.

He was able to get through his first class without many problems, he felt waves of nausea periodically and some bouts of lightheadedness, but Gale wasn't going to let that take him down. His second class was a little worse, his hands quivered when he tried to write and the nausea stayed, no longer ebbing in and out in waves.

Gale passes out around lunchtime, Marge by his side and all he can really hear is her anxious fretting, calls of his name and yelling at someone to phone the hospital. He remembers weakly trying to push her off, says he's fine, but Marge tells him to shut the fuck up, he's going to the damn hospital. He doesn't remember much after that.

He wakes up to the soft beeping of a heart monitor, the bright fluorescent lights of a hospital room and he groans. Gale shouldn't be here. He's taking up the space that someone else needs more, he doesn't deserve the time or energy that people are wasting on him. He doesn't get to dwell too much before John is quickly at his side, taking his hand and pushing his hair back. His lips press into a thin line, palm pressing against the sure heat that Gale gives off.

"Baby? Are you okay? God Marge told me you collapsed and I left work immediately. Fuck Gale you should have told me you weren't feeling good," John frets and Gale just shakes his head weakly.

"I'm fine, John. I'm good, you didn't need to leave work just for me. When are they gonna let me out?" Gale asks and his voice is hoarse.

John's brow furrows and his expression grows stern.

"Gale, no, you're not fine. You have a 103 degree fever and you're shaking like a damn leaf. I'm not gonna stay at work when I know you're sick," John says and Gale can feel another wave of nausea that isn't caused by the sickness.

Gale turns his head against the pillow, avoiding John's gaze and he can feel his eyes well up. No, no, he can't cry. Crying is the worst thing he could do right now. But the tears come anyway, streaming down his face steadily and John rushes down to wipe them away, fretting all over again.

"Hey, hey, baby, Gale, come on don't cry. It's okay, I'm not mad I swear. You should have just told me you weren't feeling well, I could have helped, then maybe you wouldn't have fainted," John says, a firm thumb brushing away the tears that stream down his face and Gale shakes his head.

"Don't... don't wanna be a burden," Gale manages to choke and John shushes him and forces Gale's head to turn towards him.

John's face is both soft and firm, his eyes filled with emotion that's both frustration and affection. Gale hates how worried he looks, just because Gale's a little bit sick.

"Gale, you will never be a burden to me. I promised your mama I would protect you, and I promised you the same. I love you, Gale, and if it takes me dropping everything for you to understand how much you mean to me, I'll do it in a heartbeat," John says, cupping Gale's face with both of his hands.

Gale squeezes his eyes shut because he knows if he looks at John anymore he'll just ugly sob, grabs John's wrist and nuzzles his soaked face into it, gasps and chokes as he continues to sob, John shushing him and bringing him in closer until their foreheads are pressed together, breathing heavily against his face.

"I swear, Gale, you are not a burden. You are my everything, doll, my everything," John whispers, and Gale can only nod, finally allowing himself to melt into the sheets, letting himself feel fatigued and exhausted and sick because John is letting him, allowing him to let go.

[trialbywombaat]

🧑‍🏫🧑‍🏫🧑‍🏫🧑‍🏫🧑‍🏫🧑‍🏫 GIMME GIMME GIMME I WANT ME SOME TEACHER BUCK AND FOSTER PARENT TOMMY SO BAD

GIMME PLEASE 🤲🤲🤲

Thanks for the request! Sorry for the delay - I'm just writing these whenever I get a chance.

It was the third time this week he'd found himself racing towards Michelle's classroom, and he was once again grateful for his aide, who was ushering in Buck's class from recess like a pro. Well, technically she was a pro - so...maybe like a really good pro? One who deserved more than whatever the district was paying her, that was for sure. He couldn't tell from Michelle's face whether she was relieved or annoyed at Buck's presence, but he decided that he didn't really care. If a kid was hurling chairs around the classroom, he was going to be inviting himself in. 'I've got it,' he told her, trying to sound reassuring and professional and helpful, rather than frustrated and just generally unimpressed. 'You can take the others outside.' As much as Michelle didn't really like being bossed around, she clearly wanted to be out of the classroom and away from Scarlett, so she turned on her heel without hesitating and walked quickly out the door. Buck assessed the situation in front of him. Scarlett was a new transfer who'd started at their school two weeks ago. She was autistic, and had ADHD, and had been expelled from her previous school because - according to her permanent record, 'her outbursts caused property damage and made her a danger to others'. Buck, of course, probably shouldn't know any of this, but he did anyway, because it was all Michelle could talk about these past few weeks, and the proximity of their classrooms unfortunately meant he had overheard far too many of their conversations. He also knew, though, through the process of trial and error, that she liked when someone sat on the floor near the doorway - below her and where she could see them, so as not to be threatening, but not too far away. She seemed to need someone close by. She liked when Buck talked. When he reminded her that he wasn't upset at her, that he understood how she felt. That he was ready when she was. And he had learned that there was a book in the reading corner of the classroom, one about unicorns, that she could be redirected to. That she could look at to calm down, while Buck offered her a snack from her lunchbox.

Make me write

[inkpotsprite]

I binge read your ‘I’ll die when I’m dead’ fic and I need you to know that

1) the way you write characters and their development is amazing

2) oh my days your plot is great

3) your writing made me realize so much about myself and inspired me to leave a toxic relationship and learn that I come first despite everyone else acting otherwise. I owe you a lot bc you’ve helped me in a way that no one else could’ve done in person.

idk if that sounded cringe but it’s true and you should be proud of your work

Firstly, thank you so much for taking the time to write this. I'm so happy that you like the characters and plot, especially as it's a long work and those can be a journey to get through.

Secondly, this isn't cringe at all! Please never worry about anything like that 💜

I never thought that my writing could have an impact like this, but I'm so glad it has. You deserve to put yourself first (and believe me, I know how hard that can be) and to give yourself the space to create something better, something that makes you happy. It's both a brave and amazing thing to do, and I hope you know that.

This message means a lot to me and I appreciate you sharing it 💜

[gliphyartfan]

Hi I saw your last headcanons about The heroes joining The Villains to take down Hylia for readers sake(I really liked The headcanons, They were really good) But i have my question about The zeldas, I cant stop thinking that They would get an interest in The Reader (Maybe Platónic, maybe Romántic Is up to you) And I cant stop thinking that they Would join The chains plan to take down Hylia(Maybe The Make a truce with The chain to take down Hylia with The less count of possible deceased people to finally kill The Villain) I dunno i had this idea and I had to say it, hope you have a nice day

First off…I’m not much of a fan of the princesses…

BUUUUT, I can accept coming up with ideas about them for others…BUT NOT OFTEN!

Anywho I haven’t put much thought on all of them so I’ll just do a few. Sorry 😅

Sun wouod have the most complicated feelings here since she’s literally Hylia reborn as a mortal. Her interest in Reader would likely be tied to a deep guilt and sense of responsibility, she’s living with the burden of what Hylia does to Reader. Yeah the Hylia that did it is FAAAR into the future, but it’ll a version of her who no longer is SUN.

She probably sees helping the Chain as a way to make amends, even if it means going against everything she was once meant to represent.

She probably sees Reader as almost sacred and feels like she owes them something she can’t fully repay.

She wants to protect them, and there’s this raw, almost reverent quality to it. She’s the one who might pull Reader aside to give them quiet reassurances, to show that she’s on their side despite the history that hangs over her head.

Some of the guys, like Time, Legend, and Warriors, maybe Wild might not fully trust her, understandably so.

They’d question her motives and wonder if, when it comes down to it, she’d side with Hylia.

Sun would be determined to prove her loyalty to Reader, and that might lead to some pretty heated arguments, especially with heroes who are cautious around her.

Artemis wouod be all about strategy really teaming up with the Chain as a logical choice to take down Hylia, not just for Reader’s sake but also for the sake of her people. Considering hers is literal a war-torn era and even if the timelines were repaired, the damage the war did to HER era specifically is still there .

She’s not sentimental about it; she just wants to get the job done with minimal fallout.

Buuut seeing how devoted the Chain is to Reader, she’d definitely gain a lot of respect for Reader.

She’d have a lot of admiration for Reader, seeing them as almost warrior like in their own right. She’s drawn to how Reader stands up to things way beyond their control and keeps pushing back. There would be no flowery language from her; she simply respects Reader, and it shows. (Friendship no jutsu will happen eventually, it just takes time for her to warm up to Reader.)

Tetra would be in this for her own reasons, but helping Reader aligns well with her goals. She, like Wind, isn’t familiar with Hylia but seeing the Chain actively fighting against her is all she needs to dive in. Especially when she warms up to Reader. She’d be on board to take Hylia down without a second thought.

She would be egging the Chain on to take bold steps against Hylia. There’s no hesitation on her end; she’d be telling them, “If you’re in, go all the way.” Her approach would definitely add some urgency to their plans, maybe pushing the Chain into action when they might otherwise hesitate. (She’s a pirate, what do you expect)

She’d be the semi-tsundere, definitely would warm up quickly to Reader, especially if Reader adores her pirating stories or genuine is interested in learning how ships works.

Aurora probably the most lowkey out of all of them, but don’t underestimate her. She’d see the Chain’s determination and want to support them out of a genuine belief that Reader deserves a better fate.

Her relationship with Reader would likely be gentle and kind, she’s the one offering small comforts.

She sees something special in Reader’s humanity and probably feels they’ve been through way too much already.

She’d be the one who connects with them in quiet moments.

She’d mediate between any Zeldas who don’t see eye to eye. If Artemis is pressing for strict strategy while Tetra is pushing for impulsive action, Aurora would be the voice of reason, urging a balanced approach to keep them all on track

And….thats all I could come up with. Sorry I couldn’t think of the others. I may come back to this later if I think up more.

(I won’t mind writing for the Zeldas. It’ll just take some time 😅)

[asherraccoon]

Jealousy- Radiosilence, background Radioapple- angst- highschool au, human au

Lucifer. Little mister perfect. 

Oh, how Vox hated him. 

Lucifer was perfect. Just. Fucking. Perfect. 

It's really no wonder every girl and boy in their school loved him. 

Every boy and girl. Including Alastor. 

Alastor. Vox's best friend and crush. Of course Lucifer had to come along and steal Alastor from him. And oh, how Vox hated it. 

“Calm down, Vox, me and Luci are just getting along. He's the new kid. May as well make him feel like he has at least one friend here,” Alastor had said when Vox brought up how he and Lucifer were spending a lot of time together. 

“Luci?” Vox's eyes narrowed. Alastor had a nickname for the whore? 

“He said people can call him nicknames,” Alastor shrugged. He scratched his neck. “He's a nice guy, Vox. You should try being nicer to him,” 

Vox huffed. He leaned against the stair railing in front of the school. “He's a fucking whore, Al,” he said.

Alastor frowned. “Vox, you don't even know him,” 

“I've seen him, Alastor. He's got chicks all over him! A fucking slut like him dosent deserve people being nice to him!” Vox argued. 

“Just because people like him, he isn't a slut, Vox!” Alastor reasoned. “He even told me that the people trying to constantly flirt with him, make him uncomfortable. I'm trying to help him get them to leave him alone,” 

“He's lying!” Vox said, stepping towards Alastor. “That little mister perfect whore is just waiting for someone that he can manipulate and use!” Vox said. He gritted his teeth. “That bitch is going to use you, Alastor,” 

Alastor crossed his arms. “I get it,” he said. “You're jealous,” he said. 

Vox blinked, seeming surprised. He stepped back. “What? No I'm not! Why would I be jealous of that little cunt??” 

“You're jealous that I'm making friends,” Alastor replied. “You're so lonely and desperate for attention that the moment your one friend talks to someone new, you get all jealous and pissy about it!” Alastor said, stepping closer to Vox. “I'm allowed to have friends other than you, Vox. You don't own me,” 

Vox bumped into the metal railing behind him. “I- That's not true!” he argued. “I'm not jealous. I'm not stopping you from making friends… I-I'm not lonely!” 

Alastor scoffed. “Yeah, right,” he flicked Vox's forehead. “Little word of advice; no one likes a clingy, needy, jealous asshole,” he said, staring directly into Vox's eyes. 

Vox stared at him, unable to get the words out. 

Alastor backed away and walked off into the school. Presumably to find Lucifer. 

Vox watched him leave. 

Something wet slid down Vox's cheek. Fuck.

Vox wiped the tear away only for more to come. “Fuck… No… stop it…” he mumbled to himself. He let out a sob. 

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

Vox didn't have any friends. He stopped letting himself get attached. He glanced across the classroom, where Alastor and Lucifer were talking and laughing.

Alastor leaned in and gave Lucifer a kiss on the head.

Lucifer giggled in response.

Vox gripped his pencil tightly. Why was he still so jealous of Lucifer? He looked away and down at the paper he was writing on.

“Hey,” a voice said. 

Vox looked up.

A girl with dark skin and big pigtails sat down next to him. “Velvette,” she introduced herself. She had a British accent. She held out her hand.

“Um…” Vox hesitantly took her hand and shook it. “Vox…” he said quietly. “Are you an exchange student..?” 

Velvette nodded. “Straight from London,” she crossed her arms behind her head and propped her feet up on the desk. She had a good sense of fashion, Vox observed. 

“Where… Where did you get those clothes?” Vox asked. 

“These?” Velvette laughed. “Well, I made the shirt myself, thrifted these gloves and pants, the jacket was also thrifted but I modified it to be more cool…” She explained her outfit to him.

Vox listened in awe. He was amazed to learn that she designed and created clothes all on her own. And she was only, what? 17? 

The two hit it off great. But, Vox told himself he wouldn't get attached. Not again. 

But… maybe Velvette wasn't so bad. 

Maybe… just once… ever since sophomore year… Vox could let himself have fun for once. Let himself have a friend. 

Just one friend.