#made this a while ago so i don't have the link ;-;

[shaylene-the-praline]

‼️ PSA - Creators, Beware‼️

It's taken a lot for me to come out and do this, but after this situation escalating to a point of manipulation that's flat out disgusting, I have to.

There's a person within this community (goes by at least 5 or more different accounts...I've only been able to weed those out because I've been messaged with them) that's been disrespecting my boundaries and is now traveling into the realm of harassment. I've blocked him an amount of times I can't even count at this point, but he just deletes the account and comes back. The ones below are his two main ones.

ACCOUNT LINK

I'm going to give a little bit of background. He started out dming me from these. I would respond occasionally. He would tell me how he wanted to get to know me and how he wasn't like all the other "nasty guys on tumblr"...yadda yadda. I made it clear that I have trust issues and I'm not just opening up to anyone, and that I wouldn't mind being friends with time. He then goes on to accept this, claiming that he didn't want anything sexual. Well...my trust issues proved me right, because a little while after that, I noticed a pattern.

So I confronted him one day about what I noticed, and you see what he said. After that, I went back and forth mentally about what to do, and stupidly made the decision to give him another chance to not lie again. I feel like an idiot for doing it because he did end up lying again, but the part of me that believes people can change from a weird mistake took over.

So fast forward. I caught him in another similar lie, and that's when I blocked his two main accounts. This is when the random account making started; he would spam me with apologies that were half the time guilt trips. (Painting me as the villain for blocking him and not wanting to hear out his apology.)

The apology in the middle was the one I somewhat believed. But when I made the decision a few weeks ago to continue to block him, he kept creating accounts up to 20+ times to keep spamming me and trying to force interaction from me. Now, see on the left how he offered to get me something off my wishlist? This was a normal comment in every other message...but today, it's escalated because he actually has bought me something and is trying to use it against me.

This has been weighing on me mentally and making my tumblr experience stressful. I haven't shut off my dms because it isn't fair to people I actually speak with, but it also isn't fair to me that my blocks aren't respected, and I'm being made to feel like being lied to and mistreated is my fault. So other creators in this community, please be aware of this person. I don't doubt he's done this to others, I don't want it to happen to you.

My safety isn't in danger, but my mental health is rattled. Tumblr is fun for me, but not when someone won't back off and let me make decisions in my own time. He likes to say I've agreed to working it through...but that was only me saying I'd TRY. After witnessing this behavior, it sent me to blocking because I realized how stressed I felt.

Again..I hate that it had to come to this, but now that I'm being made to feel uneasy because he's using gifts to try and force me to interact, it's gone too far.

[lutiaskokopelli]

I have an issue with constantly getting distracted, so I got distracted from working by making a 100% customizable Pomodoro App to keep my future self from getting distracted. Have a Google Drive download link.

The Pomodoro technique, if you don't know it, is a discipline method for keeping track of when you are working and when you are taking breaks, notably through the use of a timer.

There are tons of apps centered around this, and yet after looking at so many of them, I somehow could not find one that would do the most basic thing I'd like to have for a study companion: change the background of the app so that yes, I do have a timer telling me to work harder, but I also have an image of my choice to cheer me up along with it.

So what did I do? Did I take the rational, reasonable path, to just suck it up and stick to one of the already existing apps even though it would mean saying no to having my adorable Hearthian OC sleep in a corner of my screen?

Or did I go the hyperfocused insane route of utter procrastination and learn a whole new programmation language from scratch just in order to get my frikkin baby to comfort me while I work?

Yeah, who could have guessed.

So! The Google Drive link I shared will let you download everything you need in order to run your own version of this little app, including a tutorial on how to customize it to suit your needs.

The first thing you will see after unzipping the archive is this:

The "ast" folder (standing for "assets") contains every image used by the app -- which means that you can change them as you please! I even gave you transparent versions of the buttons in the "Asset Creation Help" subfolder, in case you like the shapes but want to change the backgrounds.

You think that's cool? Oh, but the image assets are far from being the only thing you can change for this app's behavior! You can change EVERYTHING that this app is doing (which isn't much because it's literally just three different types of timers, and even then there are some trickier details with more coding than others (but I still give tips on how to handle those), but shush. Everything this app can do, you can customize to your heart's content).

How do you do that? Well, this is what you get when you right-click on the "Pomodoro.ps1" file:

The Pomodoro.ps1 file is the "app" itself, written in PowerShell code that I made as legible as I could make it. There is a whole tutorial in there, made easier to read if you right-click on this file's icon and choose the "Edit" option. Have a preview!

Through editing this file, you can then run a Pomodoro app from which you can have the window's appearance customized, from its size, opacity (if you want to still half-see what's sitting behind it), and start position on your screen (the window can be dragged around, but if you have a preferred position you can tell the app to always load it in that preferred spot right from the get go), to stuff like the custom messages you get whenever the timer progresses:

So, yeah. I made a little app meant to help with productivity. One out of many already out there, sure, and it's probably not as cool as many others (but I'll just remind you that three days ago I knew absolutely nothing about PowerShell as a whole, so- I guess that would be still a little impressive that I was able to make a working app like that at all? xD), but as far as I've looked, it's the only one that will let you have your favorite images keep you company while you use it.

I don't know whether anyone other than me will like it enough to use it, but just in case, it's here! Hope it's as easy(-ish) to customize as I made it out to be, or at least close enough.

PS: The version I use for my own personal choices uses some slightly different assets compared to the version I share in the .zip file on my Google Drive. This is because the version I share online solely uses official Outer Wilds art (while the version I made for myself notably uses one piece of OW fanart that I did not make myself, and it didn't sit right with me to share that piece uncredited, even in an edited form. If you are curious, this is the artwork in question).

[jullbnt]

I really enjoy all of this too :D

Aonuma's comment about nostalgia was also because he genuinely seems to think more freedom = better games, so he doesn't understand why some fans like me prefer the old Zelda formula when it was more "restrictive" in his opinion.

I still prefer to keep the timelines separated but what you're saying makes sense, I better understand how it could work! I like the idea that the merging would be the result of very careful planning by the gods/goddesses that would take millenia, it's kind of fascinating (you're right "just" was a bit of a stretch). Don't worry my take is probably very confusing too, it has time travel and a whole crazy fourth timeline ^^

It's definitely been a while since SS, though I always found the time scale in BotW a bit ridiculous (10 000 years since the first Calamity just sounded like an alternate way of saying "a very long time ago" to me). Oh you didn't like the dragons in BotW? I love seeing them flying over Hyrule, I always stop to watch them. At least they're way better than the ones in SS, I still think they looked kind of terrible 😆

Yes Faron is the Water Dragon in SS and Lanayru is the Thunder Dragon, which never made sense to me (especially with Farore's Flame still being green and Nayru's being blue). The opposite would have been better in my opinion. It's a real pain in my side because the dragons play a big role in my story and I want them to be the same ones from SS (with an explanation for the way they changed), so until I find something not too convoluted to explain the swap I just ignore the inconsistencies… Anyway even with their elements swapped I think it's hard not to see the link with SS, especially with the sacred springs being on the map (sure SS only had two, but still). And if the dragons don't talk it's simply because they play no role in BotW ^^

I don't mind when things are a bit vague because it allows us to theorize, but I still think something as big as Rauru claiming to be the first king when he is not should be explained, that's way too confusing. What you said could be the case, but then I would have loved an explanation from Rauru himself. It didn’t need too be very detailed, just that he founded this new version of Hyrule on the ruins of an ancient kingdom with the same name.

(Also the new timeline we got in TotK Master Works is very confusing, it really makes TotK look like some kind of reboot. The events of Skyward Sword are never mentioned, the Secret Stones replace the Triforce, and Rauru is confirmed to be the first king of Hyrule. But maybe it could work with your theory, the gods/goddesses could merge the three timelines and then start all over again in this way. But I really wish they wouldn't kind of erase previous lore this way).

I think it's a bit different for the Oocca and the Minish, since both TP and MC had the excuse of being released before Skyward Sword and the official timeline (and they weren't sequels to other games). I won't argue about MC though, I think it never really fit in the timeline because it's too different from the rest.

In TP the entire story wasn't about the Oocca and they weren't the ones to seal Ganon, to name the Sages, to be the first rulers of Hyrule… Shad only theorized that they were the real creators of Hyrule, and since no one travels through time to see it happen there's a possibility that he just got them mixed with the Skyloftians.

Hyrule in game is the size of Kyoto, but I think we can assume in reality it would be a lot bigger, maybe even like a continent. I mean I can't imagine having a desert, a jungle, a volcano, and a few snowy montain chains cramped up together in such a small area ^^ Hebra alone could be the size of the Alps or something like that. But I agree, it would definitely be nice to know what's happening outside of Hyrule!

Yes the stones are blank power modifiers, I just find it a bit… lame. But my major issue with them is that I don't see how owning one makes anyone a Sage. As I said in previous games Sages had important roles and had a more spiritual aspect to them than just being warriors with magicial abilities (that's more like being a Champion from BotW). Usually the Sages all need to be awaken by Link for their shared power to be effective, which is something I like a lot. In TotK you can go straight to Ganondorf and fight all the bosses without the help of the Sages or with only half of them if you're good enough, and since I've seen people do it with only one heart we know that Link is canonically perfectly able to do so. That makes the Sages useless (the same could be said of the Divine Beasts in BotW, but it's less lore breaking. Though the fact that you can beat Ganon without the Master Sword is another story).

It's as if OoT Link didn't need the Sages to seal Ganondorf in the Sacred Realm and could confront him any moment after fighting all the bosses in a row. That would basically ruin Ocarina of Time.

I know about On'nen, I've actually read a bit about it to better understand Zelda lore and Demise's curse (though I may not have gone as deep as you). I'll definitely check QuestWithAaron, that sounds very interesting (thanks!). I didn't know gloom was Shoki though, I didn't understand why it was not malice anymore in TotK so that's a good point. But I think it confuses things even more between TotK Ganondorf and BotW Ganon for people who don't know Shintoism, which isn't ideal.

I still don't think Ganondorf with a secret stone would be more powerful than Ganondorf with the Triforce of Power. TP Ganondorf has just as many reasons for his resentment to grow after being exiled to the Twilight Realm, but he still can't break the Master Sword and he has a piece of the Triforce. I was really expecting an explanation for that later in the game, especially after Ganondorf recognizes Link and Zelda at the beginning and mentions Rauru (I was so excited about this, it felt big). That's one thing I hope I can better explain in my story.

Btw in French malice is indeed called "rancœur" (rancor) and gloom is "miasmes" (miasma). I'm not sure the official reason for weapon durability in BotW was malice, but it could be a good way to explain it!

Haha the Zonai being evolved Remlits is a fun idea ^^

__

You're welcome! Yes something like Croifluances could work, though I prefer Confluances. It sounds closer to Crossflows so it could be a good idea! For Mipha it would be Cour Sainte Mipha (saint is masculine). Cour might not be the right word though, in French a "cour" is an open space enclosed/surrounded by buildings (more like a courtyard actually!). The French translation went with Parc Mipha, and I could also see something like Promenade.

Yes games centered around the non-Hylian races would be interesting. Though I think what I would love to see most in a future game is a Gerudo King that is not Ganondorf and is portrayed in a positive light.

OoT and MM are my favorites so I completely agree, I want to see something like that again. The subtext and depth of these games were unlike anything they did since, I really miss it ^^

Hi, sorry if this is a bit rude. 😅 I guess that I was just wondering. How would Jabul Waters, Zora Cove, & Crossflows Plaza be named in French?

I'm trying to give Jabul Waters an interesting name that works to go with my hc & I came up with "Jabuleaux." And Google Translate tells me that Crossflows Plaza would be Place des Flux Croisés. And, I'm seeing that Anse is the term to refer to a cove &, if that's true, then would Zora Cove be Zoranse? At the same time, somewhere else, it said that Anse actually means beach.

And, I believe that a town by a swamp would have cher, quier, bren, brin, or Hor- in it?

I'm sorry if this is weird... 😅

Hi! Don't worry it's not rude or weird at all! I offered to help and I'm happy to do so :D

Did you check the official French translations? I had a surprisingly hard time finding the French version of the map online so here's a screenshot I took myself:

Jabul Waters = Eaux de Jabule (this one only appears when I zoom out)

Zora Cove = Baie Zora

Crossflows Plaza = Place de l'Estuaire

In case you didn't know the Zelda Wiki often lists names for places or characters in various languages in the "Nomenclature" section of its pages. It's very helpful especially if you're searching for the original Japanese names. If we look at at the different names for Crossflows Plaza we can see that a literal translation from Japanese would be something like "Exchanging Place". I checked the Jisho dictionary and it seems to be an accurate translation, though "Place for Cultural Exchanges" would be more meaningful.

It's not exactly a good name in English so it makes sense that the localization team would come up with something like Crossflows Plaza instead, which in my opinion does a very good job of stating that this is both the place where the river meets the sea and where the two Zora tribes traditionally meet each other.

Other European languages all settled for variations of "Estuary Plaza" ("Place de l'Estuaire" in French), which is fine but looses the "cultural exchanges" aspect of both the original name and the English translation.

I've been trying to come up with a French translation of "Crossflows Plaza" but it's not that easy. To me "Place des Flots Croisés" or "Place Flots-Croisés" would sound better than "Place des Flux Croisés", but I still find it a bit weird ("flot" meaning flow, tide or stream). "La Croisée des Flots" is another option if you agree to get rid of Plaza/Place (it means "the intersection/junction of streams"), but I don't think it works very well as a name.

You could also mix words to create a name the same way it was done in English, something like "Place Croiseaux" (croiser/cross + eau/waters). If any of my French speaking followers is feeling inspired, please share your ideas! :)

(I just thought of "Place Cruciflot" and found it too funny not to mention 😆 maybe it sounds too much like crucifix)

In French we also have the word "confluence" that has the exact same meaning as it does in English: either the meeting of two rivers or a gathering of some kind. So to me the most obvious translation would be something like "Place des Confluences" or maybe "Place Confluence", as it would preserve the dual meaning, but it's not very fancy or creative. Maybe we could simply change the spelling to something like Place Konfluans, the same way "Village Côtier" (Seaside Village) is spelled "Village Kothié" (Seesyde Village). But it doesn't look like a French word anymore so I'm not sure that's something you'd like.

As for Jabuleaux, it can work but I prefer the official translation "Eaux de Jabule". Same thing for Zoranse, we would say "Anse Zora" or "Anse des Zora". The official French translation is "Baie Zora" (Zora Bay), which I think is more appropriate given the size of the sea inlet (in my understanding an anse/cove is a small baie/bay and isn't very deep). I think maybe it should have been bay in English as well instead of cove, but I might be wrong! Also I believe "anse" isn't used as often as "baie" and might be confusing for most people, so I would go with "Baie Zora".

I'm not sure where you found this information about swamps and town names? I didn't find anything to confirm it but I might not have looked in the right places.

French towns are often ancient and their names can derive from other languages such as Celtic, Occitan, Flemish, or regional dialects, so that's a very difficult question and I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer ^^

I still did a little search and found an Old French word for swamp, "palud" or "palu", that still appears in some town names such as La Palud-sur-Verdon, Saint-Pierre-la-Palud, Lapalud, etc. (today we say "marais" or "marécage"). You might be right about "bren", it could be something like muddy in Gallic.

There's also "vign" or "mign" (from Celtic), as in Mignéville or Lévignac, or l'Île de Migneaux on the Seine river (this one's in my city!).

Near where I grew up is a town named Hazebrouck, it literally means "hare swamp" (brouck/broek = swamp in Flemish). For a bit more French flavor you could maybe use -broucq or -breucq instead of -brouck.

I think the vast majority of French people have no clue about all of that (I didn't except for the last one and it's more Flemish than French), so I'd say don't oversweat it ;)

And that's all! I hope you'll find this helpful ^^

[memen18-m5r3]

hello surviving centricide fandom...I bring you some wacky food

(i'm also animating a small portion of Centricide 3.5 but since I can't tell how much more time it's gonna take I'll show you some sneak peeks! :3)

((since I'm a certified yapper, I added some additional info + translations to all the images descriptions! not sure if it qualifies as ID so feel free to add upon it if necessary))

[whumpflash]

no thoughts, just Nisha appreciation

[longagoitwastuesday]

The way Haemon acts has reminded me a lot of Romeo and Juliet

[cy-cyborg]

Free Manual Wheelchair Reference Models

ID: A banner with grey 3D models of 5 kinds of manual wheelchairs in a line in front of the disability pride flag and text that reads "Manual Wheelchair References" /End ID

For disability pride month, I decided to release a pack of 3D manual wheelchair models.

The pack includes 5 wheelchairs:

2 Active urban-style chairs (one of which includes a smart drive)

1 off-road active chair

1 children's wheelchair

and 1 standard "hospital" wheelchair).

All the wheelchairs are based off either wheelchairs I or friends of mine have used

Downloadable here!

or on the Clip Studio Paint Asset Store (ID 2097442) (there's been an issue with the CSP version, but the models in the download folder can be imported into clip studio paint until I can fix it)

More info about the download contents below:

The first download link includes the original .Blend file with all 5 chairs, as well as individual .obj or .fbx files the chairs (All but 1 have an .obj file, as they're only meshes. The chair with the smart drive is rigged, which is why it has an .Fbx file instead so it will retain that information) as well as a "read me" file that explains in more depth what kind of disability/character/lifestyle each chair is made for (These are just what I had in mind when I designed them, they are usable by other characters who don't fit the suggestions for the most part!) I wanted to include the Read Me contents in the CSP Asset Store listing, but CS said it was too long lol.

Also, as the title says, these files are free to use! While it's not mandatory, I would appreciate credit if you use them (or even just a tag so I can see the cool art you make with them!!)

I actually made these ages ago, the original plan was to use them in a series of posts then release the pack, but I never got around to making the series and so they've just been sitting here. I took a day off from art fight attacks to clean them all up and get them ready to post. If you experience any issues, let me know and I'll try to fix it up.

I had a couple more that were supposed to be in the pack including a sports (basketball/Tennis) wheelchair and some different styles of wheelchair, but I think the files corrupted so once I fix (or remake) them, I'll probably make a second pack.

If you have any issues, please let me know!

[chiscaralight]

don't fuck your enemy!

synopsis: you just so happened to end up drunk with your enemy in the club bathroom. what would be more fuck than punching him in the face? fucking him!

includes: nsfw! scara x reader public sex ish. slight degradation. unprotected bathroom sex, p in v sex, mentions of oral sex, reader is under the influence but its all consensual. slight car sex, little bit of regret. this feels new to me, but I absolutely loved writing it! based off a request that I will link here

“scaraaa…”

“quit whining.”

you’re wiggling your hips to him, as he struggles to get his belt off.

“you’re obnoxious. is this how you treat everyone you say you hate? slut.”

“and you’re the one feeding into it. just shut up and-“

the moan you let out is drowned in the music. it’s not loud enough to draw attention, but if anyone else is in the bathroom, they’d definitely hear it. it’s not your fault you’re in this position, after a couple of rounds of shots, this stupid, sexy man wouldn’t stop staring at you in what he says is ‘disgust’. hard to believe when he wasted no time in following through with your advances, pressing you against the stall wall and crashing his lips onto yours.

but yes, you’re a slut for letting him push his cock past your lips, keeping your eyes trained on him as he groaned about how good that felt when you weren’t spewing bullshit, or you nuzzling your head into his hand as he tangles his fingers in your well-done hair.

but no, he’s not a fucking whore for dragging you off the ground and for bunching your short dress up at your hips. nor is he one for pressing his lips against your skin, marking up and down your neck as his fingers glide over your clothed hole before pulling your panties into the side.

you won’t let it get to you now though, because the mixture of the alcohol making your mind spin, with the way the heat from his fingers is dancing around your body, tracing obscure shapes into the fat of your hips before sliding up to cup your breasts is enough to keep any other words out of your mouth, save for his name.

it’s almost insane how good he is because he’s rocking just enough to hit you with enough force, but not enough to shake the plastic frame of the makeshift wall. your hands are finding his wrists, trying to ground yourself to something, anything while he fucks your senses away in the bathroom of some upscale nightclub, trying to ground himself from how good you feel. this has to be wrong on so many levels, fucking you, after everything you’ve said, he’s said, you’ve done, he’s done?

that seems to be the least of your worries now because he can see your eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth as he slides a finger into the heat of your mouth. your reactions to his touch are quick, the way you jerk into his hand, or close your lips around his fingers like it was nothing. like it’s what you were made to do. his wet digits now slide back down towards your swollen clit, applying a certain pressure that has you crying out his name with that grating, gorgeous voice of yours. he doesn’t even have it in him to silence you, he’s twitching at the way it rolls off your tongue. fuck, if he knew you’d be this perfect, he would have cut the bullshit and bent you over long ago! but maybe it was more rewarding like this, fleeting memories of all the times he’s pumped his cock to the thought of your face moving through his mind, as your lewd expression brings him back to you.

he’s craning his head the slightest bit to catch your eye. when he does, you smile. and he could cum right then and there from the way your eyes crinkle at the corners through the flush of your cheeks. you mouth out a silent ‘kiss’, and he’s on you in an instant, tongue sliding against yours as the bitter taste of the alcohol finds its way toward him. but he doesn’t care about that. he’s more concerned about the way you’re starting to writhe and shake against him, becoming more and more unsettled with the lack of your own movement. so you do your best to stop him, pushing him off of you as you finally get to breathe. your words come out with a sweet giggle, finger pressing against his chest as your drunken state blurs your vision the slightest amount.

“wanna ride you, pretty boy.”

if anyone who didn’t know the two of you were to for some reason swing this door open now, they’d think the two of you were insatiable lovers who just couldn’t wait to make it home. to anyone that doesn’t know you, they’d probably have to wipe their eyes twice to pretend they weren’t seeing you bounce on scaramouche’s cock like this. he’s seated on the closed toilet lid, absolutely dazed as you ride him to bits. your nails are digging into his shoulders hard, giving you strong balance as you move with a determination even he can’t fathom. but you’ve been dreaming of this, finally getting him to shut up with that pussy or yours, it’s a shame you didn’t get to shove his face in it; but maybe it’s for the best. even in this mindset you know tomorrow is going to be full of headaches and a lot of unanswered questions, so why not enjoy the now? keep anything from getting too far. what exactly is too far you ask? you’re not sure either, because licking into each other's mouths while he fucks up into you would be seen as pretty far for some people.

and he breaks away first, lazy eyes searching yours as he mumbles about his coming orgasm. you’re smiling that stupid smile that makes his dick twitch again, and giving him a polite nod. his eyebrows furrow.

“inside? you sure?”

you’re rolling your eyes at the obscurity of it all. he can ‘discretely’ slide your expensive lace panties into his pocket, press you up against this gross wall, and even fuck you presumably drunk. but cumming inside you is weird.

“yes-yes! i’m sure. just-just hurry up,”

and he’s smacking his teeth at the tone of your voice, hand coming down strong on the swell of your ass while he starts to chase his orgasm. your breaths are shallow, deep with intent as you grind against him, brushing up close to him so you can release in tandem with him.

it works a little too well, because you’re spasming against him in a way that he’s never seen before. your orgasm, plus the feeling of his cum starting to paint your inside white hot with thick spurts is peeling away any reservations you had about this whole situation before, moans loud and cracking as you ride it out for the two of you. his head is hung back, adam’s apple bobbing only a slight bit as he comes to, the soft bite you give it making him snap his head back down before he pinches your thigh. you pout, but begin to get up nonetheless, because you’ve probably spent way too long in here already.

you're much more sober now, trying to ignore the daggers that scaramouche is glaring into your back as you adjust your outfit in the mirror.

"was the sex really that bad?"

the statement is supposed to sound snarky, but it comes out more desperate than anything. you clear your throat, focusing your attention on the paint on the floor instead, dreadfully anticipating how he will bite back this time. but he doesn't. instead, you're greeted with the plush of his lips against yours, hands finding a home on your hips omce again as you grip at his collar. you're moaning into his mouth once more, attempting to slide your tongue against his.

but he pulls away before you can, beelining for the exit door instead. your lips are in a hard pout. as you hear him mumble something about needing to go home. you also happen to catch the part where he more clearly states the exact parking space his car is in right now before letting the door swing shut.

you're alone with your thoughts now. your mind is much clearer, and you're visibly torn between doing the right thing, that is, going back to your friends and enjoying the party like you should've been, or going down and potentially making the same albeit lovely, very rewarding mistake twice. the way the 'fuck it' rolls off your tongue now is a secure answer to what you decide to do, quickly making your way towards where you hope your friends are before announcing that you'll be on your way.

it's been minutes, seven exactly, scaramouche is counting. he shouldn't be here, he should've left immediately he stuck the key in the ignition. but he's waiting rather impatiently, in hopes that you'd find your way down. he knows you're not stupid, he knows you would regret it, hell, he should be regretting it too. but that annoying little feeling in his heart won't let him pull out of the space just yet. and thank archons for that, because he can see the pattern of your dress outside his tinted window as you tap on the glass.

the silence once you get in is stupidly uncomfortable. the air is thick with tension, both of you avoiding each other's gazes as the impact of your previous actions weighs in the air. scaramouche takes the initiative to speak first.

"we should-"

"your windows are tinted. can you eat me out?"

he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"you're absolutely insufferable."

"l-less talking, please."

he'll roll his eyes, but dip his head back down between your legs all the same. you're sprawled out in his back seat, fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue assaults your folds. maybe the first kiss was a mistake, maybe him fucking you against the wall was a big mistake. but his fingers sliding into you now? curling just exactly where they should be? there's no mistake here.

[peachpitfics]

Don't Blame Me

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.

Length: 3.2k

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.

“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.

“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.

Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.

Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.

“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.

“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.

In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else. 

When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.

“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.

“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.

“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.

“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.

“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.

With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.

The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.

“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?

“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.

Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.

The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.

“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.

“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.

Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.

“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.

“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.

“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.

Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.

His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.

His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.

It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.

“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.

“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.

“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.

~

Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.

Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.

The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.

“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.

“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.

Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.

Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.

Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.

“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.

“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.

“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.

“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.

Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.

“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.

“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.

You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.

“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.

Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.

Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.

“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.

“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.

His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.

“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.

“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.

“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.

There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.

Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.

“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.

Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.

You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.

“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.

The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.

“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.

You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.

The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.

“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.

As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.

Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.

“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.

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

tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fics, please let me know!

[kedreeva]

Okay so, I don't think I've spoken of the saga here yet but! Gather round. I shall tell you a long story about the bird I just acquired and why she is VERY IMPORTANT.

At the beginning of last fall, I started looking into quail genetics a little more, because I got tired of not being able to sex my Celadon quail by their feathers. Originally I thought I could kill 2 birds (ok maybe more) with 1 stone and order nice jumbo wild type (which MANY places advertised as wild type jumbo) hatching eggs, and this would help me put some size on the Celadons (jumbo) while also making them feather sexable (wild type). Perfect!

But then I come to find out that pretty much all jumbo lines are jumbo BROWNS, as in they all have the sex linked brown (SLB) gene. So, I was a little confused and a LOT annoyed because I wanted to work specifically with the wild type color/pattern. No mutations just straight, plain wild type.

And EVERYWHERE I looked - major production hatcheries, private breeders through websites, Facebook groups, local swaps, craigslist, e v e r y w h e r e -

People ONLY had SLB.

This spring I came across a video showing about the differences between SLB and wild type and I figured if the person who made it can tell, maybe she will have some. So I looked her up (not in a stalker way, her farm name was stamped on the video and took me to the website), and what luck! She was in Michigan! Upper Michigan, so still a hike, but not California, y'know?

So I shot her an email and explained that I was looking for WT and that her site said she bred them and that people could do local pickup. She responded yeah she's totally got a bunch! And I said great, I'm also in Michigan, albeit far away, but I don't mind driving 7+ hours each way, because I really need actual, trusted WT for sure birds for my celadon project, can I come pick them up?

Cue the most frankly bizarre email chain in my short life. As soon as I mentioned that I was going to drive, or perhaps that I had a genetics plan in place, she got super sketchy and started saying how she hadn't really paid as close attention to SLB vs. WT, that it mattered less than she thought it would when she started, that I shouldn't focus on that either, and also that "fawn celadon is practically unheard of" in the hobby and "you should focus on a clean Tibetan because it's hard to find without roux in it) implying that I should concentrate on those things instead. And concluded by telling me if I really want WT, to contact this other person (why happens to be someone I can't stand). It all sounded VERY much like she didn't have wild type males, after all, and had thought I didn't know the difference so it wouldn't actually matter. But, it does. It actually matters a lot to me.

So I messaged back to say, well, I don't want to do any of those things, I specifically want to work with this set of genetics and you said you have them so I shouldn't have to go to anyone else??

And then she went radio silent for a week. I kind of figured I'd called a bluff, and that she was one of dozens of people I'd contacted who'd said they had WT only to find out they had SLB. I get that it's difficult to see the difference, but this particular person was the president of the American Coturnix Breeders Association or whatever (found out it's actually just a club formed by her and her friends a year ago, so not as impressive as it sounds, considering they don't actually DO anything- no putting on shows, no newsletters, no certifications, no public breeder directory, no finished SOP, nada), so I kind of expected she should know what she's talking about, if anyone does.

Eventually, after a week, she responded that she had been judging at a county fair, but she had a few heterozygous males (WT het roux, which is fine) and she could set a hatch for me for more if I wanted to come at the end of the month, but she's in WI now, not MI. I said sure, since where she was in WI was actually closer than where she'd been in the UP, and we arranged date/time.

The day of, my neighbor friend, Jude, comes with me for company/keeping me awake through the 15 hours driving round trip. It's a pleasant enough drive. We arrived at a cutesy little house on the edge of town that looks like anyone's house in a neighborhood, with a spacious lawn. The person meets us and takes me around the side of the house to a 6x6x1.5 or so chicken tractor, where she's got some male coturnix. She pulls the available males for me to look through and... fam, they ALL looked SLB, to me.

Now, she swore to me up and down that they couldn't be anything except WT het for roux, because of the way she is breeding them. But I've put these birds next to my SLB males and if I didn't have my males banded, I would not ever have told the difference between them. I still picked up 4 of them, because I will give it a go- worst case, I can produce plain Roux hens/plain Roux males for use in breeding later, best case they do actually produce WT hens and they just LOOK SLB and I have to figure out what the differences are. I don't want to leave without seeing her hens, which she has told me are all WT (which is why the males HAVE to be het for it), and she takes me back. Now the hens, the hens are easy to see the difference. White bellies first of all, but the chest feathers are also wildly different! The shafts are white, the dot around the shaft is dark, ringed in red, ringed in white. On an SLB, the shafts aren't white, it's just a black dot surrounded in a red feather, and the belly is all red/buff/cream, not white.

This is what an SLB hen looks like:

So I take a nice long look to memorize the color, and thank her for showing me and meeting, and we head back home.

I do fecals when I get home because all of the males are VERY thin, no meat on them at all, and since she said she'd been feeding Purina (garbage for fowl feeds), I figured that was why, but no- HUGE coccidia loads in all of them. So I treated them and got them on a better feed. They immediately began putting on meat, and they're find now.

The rest of this summer, I have spent going to local bird swaps and inspecting all of the quail I could find, hoping to find one (1) actual wild-type phenotype bird. Hundreds and hundreds of birds, I have pawed through them all, being super obnoxious to the owners I'm sure, holding and inspecting males. I found ONE suspected WT male (and this is a HUGE "suspected," he could very well be SLB with low red expression). I compared him when I got home and I'm doubting myself still, so I don't know if I will ever actually pair him with the SLB hens or if I'll just wait til I have a roux set.

Regardless, it's been a dry season for getting what I want. It's been a dry YEAR. Yesterday was another swap and more hundreds of quail and me pawing through all of them.

Until.

My eyes landed upon.... her.

If you've only lived in an area that has american crows and not ravens, you find yourself wondering if crows are ravens. You see a big crow and you think wow! maybe that is a raven! It could be a crow, but it's seems bigger so maybe it's a raven. But, if you take a trip to a place with ravens, and you see one for the first time, you realize that there is no question, when you see a raven. When you see a raven in person, there's no question and not only is there no question, you wonder how you could ever have thought a crow was a raven. It's laughable, while looking at the raven.

That's how finding this bird felt. I'd been picking up every SLB hen and going maybe this is actually WT? It could be SLB but maybe it's WT? But the second I laid eyes on her in the middle of a pack of SLB with some mixed colors, I knew I was looking at WT hen, and I can't imagine how I ever thought maybe an SLB hen was WT.

Here's a better photo of her chest and belly (she's beat UP from her previous home, the back of her head and most of her rump are plucked clean from males). You can see the white shafts and the white belly.

And some other pics of her, showing the grey-brown on her side and back- VERY different than the SLB hens

I can't express how stoked I am about this bird. This is the first time after a LOT of effort and time, that I have felt confident I am holding the bird I want.

She's also the indicator that I have a LOT of work ahead of me.

My end goal is to have birds that look like her, weigh 12-14oz, and lay large, blue eggs. I have birds that lay large, blue eggs, I have birds that weigh 12-14oz live weigh, and now I have at least 1 bird that looks like her, which means I can make more that look like her. The first step is cleaning the color mutations out of the celadon line without losing the celadon eggs. This is going to be a bit of a nightmare, BUT, I have a friend helping me out with getting a few celadons that are either WT or SLB (I'm guessing SLB all things considered) to start the work with. I will work over the winter to get a few more actual WT birds here, and to start crossing out the celadons with the SLB jumbos to clean out the other feather color mutations. Once I'm down to just SLB and celadon for mutations, I can clean the SLB out with the WT and roux lines.

This project will likely take me a good 2 years, maybe 3, to complete and then test breed to ensure I haven't lost the celadon gene and I don't have any hidden recessives lingering about. But just having the fucking materials to do it all on hand now is a huge step forward from where I was when I decided to start the project.

[goldfades]

𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "STOP IM SO HAPPY UR MAKING PAIGE X WBB MEDIA MANAGER A SERIES BC I SENT IN THE FIRST REQUEST 😽😽😽 fic with paige and reader being out and a little wasted and getting interviewed by fellow college student about their relationship and working together etc. (could end in smut if u like ;)) // inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL9fH1p1/" (love you nonnie thank you for giving me the idea to make this series, ur the best mwahhhh hope you enjoyed)

─ word count | 1k

─ warnings | so much sexual tension its bad, paige being possessive (in a cutesy way!), interviewer being kinda weird/suggestive, mentions of drinking/getting high, some language, nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | okay so this is kinda part of the manager series (if u guys want it to be) or if u have no idea what it is, thats fine!!!! i wanted to make it a standalone cus it felt better to me that way but whichever you'd like to read it, read it!! idk why that specific tiktok is my roman empire, it's just the way she talks and EVERYTHING makes me physically so like..... obsessed i don't even know, like GODDDDD im so attracted to her

YOUR FEET HAD begun to hurt an hour ago and your entire body felt sore, though you didn't feel very tired though.

You were two and half redbull vodkas in and let's just say you were tipsy; you weren't quite drunk yet but you were definitely on the way. As you stumbled slightly through the sidewalks of the UConn campus, your only guide was Paige's hand on your waist. The combination of the alcohol and Paige's presence made everything seem surreal, like you were walking through a really good dream.

You felt giddy, that was the only way you could describe it. You were drunk, sure but mostly off of Paige's lingering touch. You were excited by it, as if every brush of her fingers against your skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body. The night air was crisp, but you hardly noticed as you leaned into her warmth, reveling in the sensation of her warmth.

Paige's laughter bubbled up beside you was infectious, pulling you deeper. You found yourself laughing along, not entirely sure what was so funny but not exactly caring either. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you in a bubble of tipsy euphoria.

You and Paige leaned against the railing, a cup in her hand as she gazed at you while you spoke about god-knows-what, she wasn't really sure anymore. She was zoned out until she felt a tap on her shoulder, to be met with a pair of new eyes.

Her face contorted into confusion as she sat up, glancing at you then back at the stranger. "Are you Paige and Y/N?"

"Yeah, what's up?" She replied quickly as she straightened up, a forced smile on her face.

He returned the smile gratefully, "I'm a big fan, uh... can we interview you two?" The guy spoke quickly as he glanced back at his friend, who was waving awkwardly.

Paige glanced back at you with a smile of her own as she waited for your approval. You nodded slowly as you glanced back at the guys as you surveyed the surroundings. "Just be chill, okay?"

He nodded as his friend pulled out his phone as he took out his phone and began using it as a microphone. He cleared his throat as he smiled, looking at his friend to start recording.

"Who are here with today?" He spoke as he brought it up to Paige's lips, then yours.

"Paige Bueckers,"

"And uh, Y/N L/N. By the way, she's not drinking alcohol," you added with a smile as Paige laughed.

Paige nodded and gestured to her drink. "I'm drinking a shirley temple, no alcohol."

"Yeah, we don't do that around here." The guy added with a laugh as the two of you glanced at each other, holding in your laughter.

Paige grinned, her tone amused as she played. "Y/N's here to keep in check though,"

"So you guys are actually close, like outside all the sports stuff?" He glanced in between you guys, noticing the close proximity between you.

You shared a knowing look with Paige. "Oh yeah, Paige and I are practically inseparable," you replied with a grin, your voice laced with fondness.

Paige nodded as she gazed at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, Y/N's my girl, on and off the court."

You couldn't help but feel warm under her unwavering gaze as you laughed and averted your gaze back to the guy who was watching you two closely.

"As in like, best friend?" He clarified as he looked back at the camera with a laugh.

"What else?" Paige replied with amusement and slight agitation as she finally broke her gaze, a small laugh leaving her lips. "Obviously,"

"How is it like working together though, if you guys are really close? If I had to spend all that time with my best friend, not sure I would make it." The interviewer joked as he glanced back at the camera.

Paige furrowed her eyebrows as she laughed. "It's not bad at all, it's really fun. We hang out a lot, we get to go on trips together and share hotel rooms, it's a blessing."

She glanced back at you with a smile as you nodded slowly, feeling yourself draw closer to her. "Yeah, it is a blessing," that was all you could get out as you watched Paige wet her lips and laugh, turning away slightly.

You were pretty sure that the interviewer had caught on to the obvious tension but you didn't care at this point, you were lost in the moment, captivated by Paige. The interviewer's words seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn closer to her, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement.

"Why do you wear Paige's jersey rather than anyone else's?" He asked, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you zone back in.

Paige's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the guy, clearly getting annoyed by his stupid question. But before she could respond with a less polite answer, you did with a laugh. "I don't only wear her jersey, it was one time and it was because it was her first game back after her injury."

Paige's expression softened as she nodded in agreement, her irritation dissipating. "Yeah, it meant a lot to me to see her wearing my jersey that day."

The interviewer nodded before he glanced back at the camera before to you two again. "Okay, okay. Last question, do you think you could beat me in a 1v1?"

"Absolutely," Paige replied with a laugh as she grabbed your arm and pulled you away, beginning to walk off before the interviewer kept talking.

"Okay bet, whoever wins gets to take Y/N out," he called out, his tone playful as he flashed a smirk toward the camera.

Paige turned around to give him the nastiest glare of all time as she kept walking forward. "I already do that, bro."

You stifled a laugh at Paige's quick retort, her playful possessiveness bringing a warmth to your cheeks. The interviewer's eyes widened in surprise at Paige's response, clearly caught off guard by her boldness as he laughed, turning back to the camera.

You two just walked off as Paige's hand moved down back to your waist as you continued on your way. Despite the slightly heated exchange, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at Paige's possessiveness.

──── COMMENTS

cam 🎀 | this has to be their hard launch or something cus DAMN😭 ♡ 792

↳ user893492948493 | ngl i can't even deny it anymore and i was the biggest anti paige and y/n person OUT THERE

↳ lily :p | "my girl" 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

Jake | is it just me or does paige like girls? ♡ 701

↳ ella :) | ????? yeah????

↳ Jake | this is news to me uhh

lovergirl <3 | okay what about sharin hotel rooms now... ♡ 432

ZM | bro why would u say that 😭😭😭 in front of PAIGE BUECKERS 😭😭 ♡ 1.1k

✌🏼💥💁🏻‍♀️ | am i interrupting something... 😰 ♡ 994

cailey ☀️ | okay who is y/n whats her instagram where does she go who is she is she dating anyone wow shes beautiful ♡ 2k

↳ 💯💯 | everyones collective reaction when they first see y/n

↳ cailey ☀️ | going through a rabbit hole rn brb, she's so pretty what 😭

↳ #1 swiftie 💍 | cailey watch out girl ur on paige's watchlist now....

🤗🤗 | the damn tension in air damn im not even y/n and i feel hot ♡ 118

Thomas W | they are both drunk as hell bro what is up with the laughing 😭 ♡ 1.2k

user83948928932 | bro met y/n l/n and paige bueckers and continued to ask the worst questions of all time ♡ 591

↳ uconn luvr | and paige was good with the comebacks like okayyy baee protect ur girl!!

↳ 💥 bow | they are not dating, can two girls just be friends anymore?

↳ uconn luvr | she literally calls her "my girl" in like the first 2 seconds of the video

Isabelle Reece ✨ | paige was too quick w that reply to just be "best friends" with her 💀 ♡ 903

↳ ur fav aries | bro i know she was smooth with it too like💁🏻‍♀️

y/n's bitch 💙 | idk who i wanna be more y/n or paige ♡ 252

↳ mikey 🤑 | theyre both so hot

↳ ��‍♀️ | mike ima have sit you down for this...

↳ taylor! | ohh... thats not...

Chris | shes cooking you respectfully ♡ 1k

i 💙 uconn wbb | if this doesn't prove y/n and paige are together idk what will

♡ 853

────

part 2?? cus i lowk wanna write smut for this now... lmk

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[theonottsbxtch]

Hello! I would like to ask a Latina reader with bf Max where is Christmas’s and her aunts keeps asking her where the boyfriend at and why she doesn’t have a boyfriend until max shows up and greets everyone, also can we make her cousins fans of f1, can everything be based in Mexico? Please wand thank you, this is my first request and I’m kinda excited, I love your writing! ❤️

MI NOVIO, MAX VERSTAPPEN | MV1

an: nonnie this was such a lovely request, thank you! i hope you like it and i hope i lived up to your standards. it was the first thing i saw when i woke up this morning and i've was slowly working on it throughout the day. i hope that this lets you build the confidence to send more requests through! also all this spanish knowledge is from when i did spanish 5 years ago in school so i apologise if its bad/if the mexican traditions are incorrect!

requests: open

wc: 2.5k

When Max had told you he couldn’t make Christmas you weren’t that upset, at first. But the longer you spent in Mexico while he was in Monaco, the more you were beginning to feel the sadness seep into your bones. 

Walking home arm in arm with your mama after midnight mass, you laid your head on her shoulder, looking up at the stars as they were twinkling in the overhead sky. 

“Hija, when are you going to bring someone home?” Your mama asked, looking down at you. This was the one topic you wanted to avoid this Christmas. While you knew that it was bound to come up, missing Max and the classic yearly conversation weren’t a good mix. Before you could stop them, you could feel the tears line your lower lash line. 

“No sé mama (i don't know mum)” you muttered. You and Max had first started dating about two and a half years ago, but there was a commitment with bringing home, a commitment you weren’t too sure either of you could handle. Bringing home made it almost permanent and while you knew you and Max were going to be permanent. You didn’t if he was ready for that. 

No matter how many times he said he was ready, there was something about introducing him to your family and culture that didn’t sit right with you. To start, he wasn’t Mexican and you weren’t too sure how your mama would react to that. Second, you knew that if you brought him over once, your mama would want him to come all the time and with the schedule he had, you didn't want him to feel forced to do anything he didn’t want to do. 

“Tu hermana, she has Léo. Y tu hermano, he has Rebecca.” She stated, you knew where she was going with this. “I don’t want you to be alone.” 

“I’m okay mama, I promise” you said, looking away from the sky for a second and looking at her, praying she didn’t notice the way your eyes were sparkling. 

“Ay, please don’t think I am forcing you hija. I just want you to be happy.” She rubbed your arm in comfort. 

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, your sister let go of her husband’s arm and came barrelling towards you and your mother. “Mama, please don’t tell me you’re pestering her about a boyfriend again” 

“I am not!” Your mum huffed. 

“You totally were! Leave her alone, mama. She’s happy, she’s working in France. What more could you want?” She chided, unlike you, your elder sister never had a problem with telling your mother the facts as they were. In fact, she was the only one who knew about you and Max. The only one out of your hundreds of family members. Pulling you away, she linked her arm in yours and walked a step further from your mother.

“You’ll have to tell her one day, you know.” She said softly, “you can’t keep hiding him out of fear that he’ll break up with you the minute you show him your family.” 

“I don’t think he’s ready.”

“Have you asked him, I’m sure he’d disagree if you asked.” The way your sister said that made you feel stupid. It was such a simple task, but you didn’t know how to go about it. 

“Look, manita . It’s Christmas. We’re about to have a very long dinner. I miss him and would like it if we stopped talking about him.” You rushed out, it was better said that way. 

Huffing out a dramatic huff, she pushed a piece of hair that had fallen into your eyes away. “Whatever you say, chiquita.” 

By the time you’d reached your family home, the place was bustling with action. From your little cousins running in between the elders legs as they helped set up the table to your grandparents shouting from the sofa in front of their telenovela. 

“Abeula, come eat.” You called out to your grandmother who was slowly getting up from her seat directly in front of the television. 

Before you, the table was covered in a variety of your favourite foods; tamales, buñuelos and romeritos. It was a sight to take in, this was why you didn’t mind the 12 hour flight every christmas. The table has fifteen odd seats that were rapidly filled with all your grandparents, both you parents, two siblings and their partners, and your three elder cousins. Besides the big table, there was a smaller table with six seats for all your little cousins, who themselves were already digging into their food before making their prayer.

At the head of your table, your abuelo linked his hands with either abuelo and abuela on each side and waited for all of you to link hands.”Bendícenos Señor, y bendice estos alimentos que vamos a recibir, y que nunca falte en nuestra mesa el pan de cada día."

Once the prayer was over, you muttered a quick “Gracias a Dios” and tucked into your food. You were surrounded by the sounds of laughter and conversation, but your mind kept wandering to Monaco. To him. It had been weeks since you last saw each other, the time difference making your late-night calls even harder to sustain. You had both promised to make it work over this Christmas period, but the ache in your chest hadn’t lessened. It was always there, especially now, as you sat at this table surrounded by family, feeling like a piece of you was missing.

The food was delicious—the tamales were just as perfect as you remembered, the buñuelos warm and crispy, their sweetness filling the room—but even the familiar flavours couldn’t fully shake the quiet sadness. You poked at the romeritos on your plate, trying to focus on the sounds of your little cousins giggling at their own table, but it was impossible to ignore the empty feeling you were cradling in you. He should be here.

“Are you okay?” your sister whispered beside you, nudging your arm. She always knew when something was off.

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, managing a weak smile. You knew she wasn’t convinced, but thankfully it was believable since it was almost one in the morning.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, and for a moment, the table fell silent, all heads turning toward the front of the house.

Your mamá began to rise from her seat, but your sister shot up faster, her movements quick and purposeful.

“I’ll get it!” she said with a wide grin that you couldn’t quite understand.

Confused, you glanced at her. “Why are you so—?”

“Why don’t you open it?” she interrupted, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. Before you could protest, she was already pulling you up by the arm, practically dragging you toward the door.

“Manita, what—” You barely had time to question her as you stumbled toward the front of the house, your heart suddenly racing. Your fingers hesitated on the doorknob, a strange sense of nervousness washing over you.

With a deep breath, you twisted the knob, and as the door creaked open, your world stopped.

There he was—Max—standing on the doorstep, dressed in his classic white shirt and jeans, his suitcase at his feet, looking ridiculous compared to you in your nice dress. His face was lit up with the biggest smile you had ever seen, his eyes bright with excitement. The warm Mexican air framed him, but all you could feel was the warmth that flooded your chest the moment your eyes met his.

“Feliz Navidad,” he said softly, his Spanish still as atrocious as when you’d last seen him, his voice full of affection.

For a second, you just stood there, frozen in disbelief. Your mind struggled to catch up with your heart, which was already racing. Max was here. After all those weeks apart, after all the lonely nights spent staring at your phone—he was actually here.

Without another thought, you flung yourself into his arms, tears welling up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest. The warmth of his embrace was overwhelming, and the scent of his cologne—a familiar mix of cedar and something faintly sweet—was like coming home.

“You’re here,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you clung to him tightly. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He kissed the top of your head, his arms wrapping securely around you as if he never wanted to let go. “I told you I wouldn’t miss this. I needed to be with you, liefje.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hand trembling as you brushed your fingers along his cheek, making sure this wasn’t a dream. He smiled down at you, his eyes full of nothing but love, and you couldn’t help but laugh through the tears.

“I can’t believe you did this,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to be here with you.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other, for what felt like forever—until you suddenly remembered where you were. Slowly, you pulled away, wiping at your tears as you turned back toward the dining room. Your entire family was staring at the two of you, some with their mouths slightly open, others exchanging curious glances.

Your mamá stood at the head of the table, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed in a mix of surprise and confusion. Your abuelo looked over his glasses at the scene, clearly intrigued, while your little cousins whispered to each other at their table, giggling at the sudden interruption, some looking at you in shock as they recognised him.

Your sister, on the other hand, was beaming like a Cheshire cat, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered reaction. She gave you a subtle thumbs up behind your boyfriend’s back.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face your family, feeling your cheeks heat up under their curious stares. “Um... everyone,” you began, your voice shaky. “This is mi novio, Max.”

You could see the shock ripple through the room like a wave. The word boyfriend hung in the air, and for a moment, no one said anything. You hadn’t told anyone about him yet, only your sister knew, as of three months ago when she started snooping and realised you were no longer living in France but in Monaco. Your relationship had been something you wanted to keep just for yourself for a little while longer. But now, here he was, standing in the middle of your family’s Christmas dinner, a smile on his face as he awkwardly waved at your relatives.

“I wanted to introduce him sooner,” you continued nervously, glancing at your mamá, who was still looking at him, studying him. “But... surprise?”

The silence stretched for another second before your mamá’s face softened. She slowly approached, eyeing Max from head to toe, and you held your breath, waiting for her reaction.

Finally, she smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made your heart swell. “Bienvenido,” she said, her voice kind as she reached out to embrace him. “Welcome to the family.”

Max looked slightly taken aback but quickly returned the embrace, his smile widening. “Thank you, Señora,” he said, his accent endearing as he stumbled over the Spanish.

Just as your mamá let go of Max, the room settled into a brief moment of quiet. Your abuelo was still smiling warmly at him, your cousins exchanging glances, when suddenly, your little cousin Mateo, the one with the wild mop of curls and boundless energy, jumped up from his seat at the kids’ table.

“¡Espera! (wait!)” Mateo shouted, his eyes wide as saucers, pointing directly at Julien. “¡Lo conozco! (i know him!)”

Everyone turned to look at Mateo, confusion washing over the room. Max raised an eyebrow, half-smiling, clearly unsure of what was happening.

Mateo’s excitement was contagious, and before anyone could say anything, he ran around the big table and skidded to a stop in front of Max, his hands on his hips like a detective who had just solved the case of the century.

“¡Eres tú! ¡Tú eres Max Verstappen! The Formula One driver! I saw you on TV in Abu Dhabi with Papá!” he exclaimed, his voice practically shaking with enthusiasm.

There was a collective intake of breath as everyone slowly started to understand what Mateo was saying. Your abuelo’s eyes widened, and your mamá’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise.

Max chuckled softly, glancing down at Mateo with a grin. “That’s right,” he said, squatting down to Mateo’s level. “You watch Formula One?”

Mateo nodded furiously, his eyes practically sparkling. “I love it! My papá and I watch all the races! You’re so fast! You won the championship!” His words were coming out so quickly, you weren’t sure he was breathing.

Max laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I did, maybe one day I can show you the trophy!”

Mateo looked up at you, then back at Max, his expression suddenly turning serious. “Wait... you are his girlfriend?” he asked, pointing at you with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe his cousin was dating a Formula One World Champion.

You blushed, nodding sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Mateo’s jaw dropped. “No way!” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. “You never told us you were dating a Formula One driver! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Before you could answer, the room erupted into laughter, your cousins and siblings throwing questions at you all at once.

"How long have you been dating him?"

"Is he as fast in person as he is on TV?"

"Wait, does this mean you get to go to all the races?"

Your mamá, still a bit wide-eyed, looked at Max in awe. “Un piloto de Fórmula Uno... Wow,” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. Then, her expression softened again, a proud smile spreading across her face as she turned to you. "Mira a mi hija, con un piloto famoso." (look at my daughter, with a famous driver.)

Max smiled at your mamá, standing back up and pulling you close to his side. "She’s the real big thing," he said, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned into him, grateful that your family was slowly warming up to the whirlwind surprise.

Mateo, still in shock, tugged on Max’s sleeve, his face beaming with excitement. “Can I get your autograph later? I have all the Formula One cards!”

Max laughed again, ruffling Mateo’s hair. “Of course, mate. Anything for mi amore’s family.”

As Mateo ran back to his seat to excitedly tell the other cousins who his new hero was, the entire room buzzed with energy, the surprise turning into the kind of joyous chaos that only a big family dinner could have. Your abuelo poured another round of drinks, your mamá called for everyone to sit back down and finish the meal, and you couldn’t help but smile as Max pulled your chair out for you, his hand brushing yours as you both returned to the table. Something about the scene felt so domestic that you couldn’t remember why you didn’t want to introduce him in the first place. 

“Feliz Navidad Mi Amor (merry christmas, my love),” you whispered to him as he took in the scene in front of him.

"Vrolijk Kerstfeest schatje. (merry christmas sweetheart)” he replied, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

[hiddenlife-manager]

I CANT STOP THINKING OF SMUT FIC IDEAS

ok hear me out lando and the reader are kind of like sneaky links and lando gets back to monaco and texts the reader “can i sleep over” and then the reader says yes. And then when lando gets to her house their kind of flirty but the reader is playing hard to get and instead of bringing him to her bedroom she just says the guest rooms clean and then closes her bedroom door on him lol. but then in the middle of the night lando comes into her room and is like “i can’t sleep” and then the reader gives in and they fuckkk

Lando Norris X Fem Reader

cw… pussy rubbing, teasing, slight plot, not edited, dom lando, hella confident lando, FWB, creampie, emotions, wall sex, quick and hard, etc...

notepad… YALL I love this one def was last minute. I was so busy today. But still I won't be taking request until I finish what I have. So my request will be temporary for some time. I hope ya'll don't mind just trying to finish what I have for everyone.

You looked at the phone quietly, unsure of how to respond. It has been some time since you saw Lando, and you needed him badly. But you also knew that coming straight up and saying that you needed him would cause him to bully you hard. You two were not in a relationship; you knew that, and he knew that, yet you two constantly fucked with no strings attached.

“Fine.” You found yourself texting back, clearly trying to hide the excitement you held for him to come over. You knew what you two would end up doing; you wanted him to wait; you wanted him to think that you two were friends and nothing more; and your desire for him was truly nonexistent, even if in your head you desired him with all your heart. 

Minutes passed, anxious for his arrival, until finally Lando knocked at your door to your large apartment. You rapidly got up from the couch, ignoring the fact that minutes ago your leg bounced, waiting for his arrival. You walked to the door and smiled, seeing his smirk. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in.

“Hey beautiful.” He whispered to you, leaning down to kiss your lips right as he was about to reach your plush lips. You moved your head, causing him to kiss your collarbone. You smiled; you wanted him to need you desperately. 

“Welcome back to Monaco, Lando.” You walked into your apartment, and he followed suit, still left stunned at your actions. He sat down on your couch, his legs opening while he tapped at his thighs. You sat on his thighs, and he held you close. 

“Now what was that? Hiding something beautiful?” He grabbed your chin, making you look at him, and shrugged innocently.

“What do you mean? I am not hiding anything.” You giggled out, his sigh being heard right next to you. Clearly, he is still unaware of your plans, and you smiled. The entire night, you were on his lap, rubbing his cock, flirting with him, and avoiding his kisses. You were leading him until it was finally time to go to sleep. 

“Your room, like always?” He questioned you, holding your hands tight around your waist. You knew he was hard, and you had to play him like a fiddle. 

“You said you were staying over; take the guest bedroom. I need my bed for myself.” You got off his lap and walked off while he watched you walk off. He groaned his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing and swallowing his saliva. He needed you, and you were playing a stupid game.

You made it to your room, shutting the door and smirking, your body leaning against the door. You were getting what you wanted. You two were friends with benefits; of course you wanted to play with him; he played with you; it was only fair you did the same. You walked through your room, stripping your clothes off to put on your pajamas, until you heard the door opening behind you. You tried to cover yourself with your robes after seeing Lando walk in. 

“Can’t sleep.” He smirked, raising his hands up as if you were holding a gun to him. His eyes scanned your body, which made him fucking insane. 

“Bullshit I just left; I bet you haven’t even stepped foot in my guest bedroom.” He shrugged, walking over to you, his hands laid down on your hips. 

“Guilty as charged.” He looked at you; his hands grabbed your face and forcefully kissed you. Your eyes were left wide in shock. The two of you fell onto your bed. He desired this kiss more than anything. He groaned into the kiss, his hands lowering down to your robes, taking it off your shoulder. "Beautiful, you had your fun; now it is my turn.” 

His hands traveled down to your legs, opening them to see your soaking cunt. He placed his fingers on his lips, sucking them and taking it out of his mouth with a pop. He placed his warm fingers on your clit causing you to react with a quick gasp. His fingers make circular figures slowly on your needy clitoral area. 

“No matter how much you hide it, you want me.” He rubbed your clit slowly and eventually raised the pace. You tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to show him your desire, but your cunt showed a different story. Soaking wet from his kiss and his touch. You were unaware he was going to fuck you. He heard you finally slip moans out, and he stopped, shaking his head.

He pulled your legs to him out of pure instinct; your legs wrapped around his waist when he picked you up. He pressed you against the wall next to your bed. 

“You said you wanted your bed for yourself. So I’ll grant you that wish, beautiful.” With his one hand not holding you, he unzipped his pants. His hard cock coming out was clearly ready to fuck you from your teasing minutes ago. He shoved his cock into your cunt, and immediately grunts could be heard from him. His head is in the nook of your collarbone and neck. Your shock at his entering you made you much tighter. 

“Lan~” You moaned, head back to the wall he was pressing you up against. You felt your body bounce on his cock, moving your ass up and down. You grabbed onto his neck tightly, gently scratching at the top part of his back. The pleasure becomes too much. It seemed to be minutes before his cock slammed into your soaking cunt. Your back against the wall clearly gets a slight burn from the bouncing, so you choose to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. His mouth gently bit into your collarbone, fucking you faster. 

His pace quickened, feeling his cock twitch inside your tight pussy. This position and your pussy made him go feral. You asked for it while playing this game. If you let him fuck you the moment he arrived, you two would have been making love, and right now he is simply fucking you as if you were his. With each thrust, he slowly got to the realization that he desired to fuck you every day, not just any time he was back home. He needed you to be around him all day; he wanted to hear your laugh and be the focus of your teasing. 

“Fuck ‘bout to make me cum!” He moaned next to you, pressing you harder against the wall and slamming his cock into your pussy faster than before. You were left moaning, a smile present on your face, holding him tighter than ever. You were clearly winded by him moaning and saying his name loudly. That was until you felt yourself close to climaxing. You moaned out, telling him so, and he smirked, kissing your lips to shut you up. At last, his final thrust came in, and he felt his legs get weak from the feeling. He groaned into the kiss, still thrusting in your spasming pussy cumming from being filled up by him. “Beautiful, how about I stay the night?” He knew what he wanted, and now he wanted you.

[onmyyan]

Yandere DC Purge Au

A/N: inspired by a bot on janitor ai here's the link reader is this universes wolverine fem reader, yandere themes

Getting home from the Titans Tower, you shrug off your brown leather biker jacket, letting the heavy garment fall to the floor with an audible thump.

Boot clad feet accidentally kick a small black elegantly wrapped package that been slipped through your mail slot. (E/c) Eyes full of curiosity, you bend down to pick up the box, it was a little bigger than your hand, unable to fight the curiosity, you threw your helmet on the couch and used your sharp pointer finger nail to tear a seam into the paper, your mind moved a mile a minute as five neat letters in black envelopes were revealed.

Your heart falls to your stomach, you knew what these letters meant, what they entailed, you'd been chosen, and not by one yandere, but five. You didn't bother to read the letters, setting them down on your coffee table like the paper was going to bite you, sitting on the couch with a groan, your shoulders coiled like a animal ready to pounce. In all your 24 years you'd never had to deal with a yandere, while you were aware of them of course, your particular lifestyle didn't allow for such things, you were a hero after all, you couldn't help but tense, yes you were a formidable fighter, yes you had confidence in your abilities to defend yourself but five separate psycho's? That was a lot to deal with even for you.

You had a day to prepare, that's all the decency the government allowed people like her. A day to prepare for the insanity that was the Purge. All former plans for a quiet week off patrols were gone, replaced by your fierce determination. You wouldn't be caught, you'd been caged enough for your lifetime.

The next morning you make your way into the Titans Tower business as usual, you had no idea who the senders of the letters were so you kept your guard up.

It was a tradition for the team to hang out one last time before the purge, since all crime, including all yandere crime, was legal, the team technically got a week long vacation. So they liked to hangout the day before those infamous sirens would ring out across the city. The whole team was there, doing their usual things when you were approached by Rachel Roth aka Raven.

"Your mind is.. guarded tonight, are you alright?" Her soft monotone voice calls out dragging you from your mind, "Yeah just ..tense about tomorrow ya know?" Your voice gruff yet feminine, you didn't mind the fact that she was peaking into your head, having long since gotten used to her antics, instead you lean back on the counter surveying the room with a calculated gaze. You kept your thoughts clear knowing she had a penchant for reading your mind without permission, you didn't want to tell the team about the letters for a multitude of reasons, the main one being you didn't know if it was one of them who sent it. Of course you trusted your team but you'd learned long ago to trust yourself before anyone else.

And your enhanced animal like senses told you danger was a foot. "Any big plans for the week?" You ask casually still observing your other teammates.

"I rented a cabin in the snow, very tranquil, very secluded.." she paused a moment her dark eyes scanning your features, "You could come with me- if you don't want to spend the purge alone?" The question hung heavy in the air, the intensity in her gaze made you smirk, no way in hell were you taking a trip right now.

"I actually have some plans already." You smiled at the dark haired sorceress, trying to soothe the wound of denial. "Well if you at any point change your mind simply call for me and I'll be there." She says flatly, but her steel gaze was as intense as ever.

"Definitely." You respond before pushing off the counter, "I'm gonna hit the gym, see you later Rav."

'Well that was something' you thought to yourself, she'd always been attached to you, finding comfort in your troubled past, but she'd never looked so..like that before.

Shaking off the encounter you find yourself in the gym toned (s/c) arms stretching across your chest in preparation, a training dummy standing across from you. Just before you throw the first punch Conner aka Superboy walks in the room his arms crossed. "You wanna keep playing with that thing or you want a real fight?" The tall wall of a man asks walking closer to you, this wasn't out of the ordinary as you were one of the only people on the team who could keep up with Conner physically.

"let's go." You say getting into a fighting stance, your feet wide, fists in front of your face.

The spar was intense as usual with him, he didn't hold back, because of your healing factor he didn't need to, and you preferred it that way. You two danced around the mat swiping at each other, trading blows that would send a normal human to the grave. Your adamantium covered skeleton allowed you to land hits on him that actually sent him reeling. Your breath came out in heavy pants as Conner made an expert dodge, he sweeps his leg under you catching you off guard enough to stumble backwards, he grips your tank top stopping you from hitting the mat staring at you for a second too long before bringing you into a head lock, panting in your ear, "You give?" You could hear the smirk on his face, you growl under your breath, "Fuck off.", elbowing him hard enough to make him release you, instead of getting angry he just grins at you looking like an animal about to pounce.

The spar ends in a draw both of you covered in sweat, "you wanna hang out tomorrow?" He asks wiping his forehead, you pause thinking over the fact that tomorrow was the first night of the Purge, sure is didn't start until 7pm but it was risky as hell to go about business as usual on the day of.

"Sorry big guy I'm fully booked." The lie flows off your tongue easily enough, you couldn't risk getting Conner involved in whatever the yanderes had planned for you tomorrow, you also couldn't rule him out as a suspect yet.

The rest of your day is full of similar interactions with your team, Garfield aka Beast Boy had invited you over to his place for a gaming fueled sleepover, pouting when you decline, Kori aka Starfire had offered to straight up stay with you for the duration of the purge, looking absolutely confused as to why you'd said no.

The day ends with you gathering your things as you wouldn't be in the tower for a week. Damian, the current Robin and leader of your team walks over before you can leave. "I assume you've made preparations?" The enigmatic man spoke in that usual Damian tone that you could never quite get a read on. "I'll be fine." Was your simple answer. His green eyes studied you, taking in your response. He simply smirks at you before bidding you goodnight.

You got zero sleep that night the rainy Gotham skies a background to your inner turmoil. Your instincts said to run so you were. A few minutes before the sirens go off, you're in your garage, a duffle bag thrown over your shoulders, when you notice your bike's tires have been slashed, both of them deflated.

Cursing under your breath you steady your nerves before heading back up to your apartment. Navigating the streets of Gotham on the first night of the purge was a bad idea even for a self healing mutant with adamantium claws like yourself. Instead you choose to take the situation as it came, barricading the front door with a bookshelf, you pour yourself a double shot of whiskey and light the cigar you'd been saving for a special occasion.

The shrill terror inducing sound of the annual purge sirens go off on schedule, you remain unflinching as you prepare yourself for the inevitable encounter.

About five minutes after the bell stops ringing there's a loud knock on your door, the handle jingling seconds after, "(Y/n), open the door." The command was given pleadingly. You recognized that voice, the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. You were prepared for some nobody to try and claim you. Not him.

"We're getting in there no matter what so you may as well just," a loud bang shook the wood, "Open up." A second voice spoke out, this one just as familiar as the first, your heart fell to your stomach at the realization, the other three didn't need to speak for you to guess they were out there.

Your eyes quickly scan the window of your apartment, you were on the third floor but it was an easy drop for someone with your healing ability.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." The third gruff voice speaks before a gunshot is heard, the bastard had shot out your front door lock, a blue eye peaked in the hole locking onto you instantly a predatory look in the gaze. "There you are kitty." He says before glaring at the bookshelf in his way, it doesn't take much for him to start throwing his shoulder into the wood of the door.

"Don't scare her." The fourth voice chimed in but did nothing to stop the man barreling into your apartment. By the time the five entered you had already booked it out the window, your broken ankles healing as you sprint down the dimly lit Gotham streets.

"She's on the move." Bruce finally speaks, his authoritative voice left no room for argument. Damian was the first to act scaling down the apartment so fast he skipped some steps, he was a man on a mission.

Dick was quick to follow flipping out the window and landing gracefully before giving chase. Tim quickly pulled out a tablet tracking your every move.

Jason snarls at the chase, running after you like a beast on the hunt. Bruce follows behind in the batmobile with Tim guiding him to your location in the passenger seat, each man's heart burning for you.

The night had just begun and you were now playing a game you wanted no part in.

[hoe4hotchner]

Heyy! I had this idea with hotch

Imagine he’s dating a doctor but he hasn’t told anyone but Dave yet. And remember the fisher king episode when Spencer jumps from that bomb? So during a case hotch jumps from a bomb (he’s fine but he goes to the hospital anyway to check if everything is okay) and while he and the team is waiting on the doctor to check his wounds, guess who shows up? His furious girlfriend ready to freak out about her boyfriend dangerous work. And hotch just stays quiet and listens to her/them (you choose) and the team is just there watching their grumpy scary boss being scolded like a little kid.

Idk why but I loved the idea of the scary grumpy unit chief hotch being so whipped for his partner that he doesn’t even argue when she’s/they're mad at him :)

I love this idea!!! I had to stop myself I could've made it into a whole thing hehehe.

A/N: I swear to god me and a few CM writers had this discussion years ago and I don't remember what the conclusion of Hotch's middle name ended up being. If anyone remembers please remind me ;)

Link to my requests

The team sat in the exam room, all tense after the recent case. Hotch seated on the bed in the middle, waiting to be discharged. Except for a few burn wounds on his right arm, he was otherwise fine.

“You know, Hotch, you could’ve just asked for a day off. Jumping on a bomb seems a bit extreme,” Morgan chuckled, breaking the silence while trying to lighten the mood.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hotch replied, his voice stoic as usual.

Suddenly, a door at the end of the hall burst open, and a voice echoed through the corridor. “AARON JAMES HOTCHNER!” You stormed into his room, eyes blazing with fury. “What on earth were you thinking?”

Before Hotch had the chance to respond, you continued, “Jumping on a bomb? Do you have any idea how reckless that was? You could’ve been killed!”

“Did she just call him Aaron?” Emily whispered to JJ.

“I think she did,” JJ murmured back, both of them wide-eyed.

Rossi tried to stifle a grin, while the rest of the team watched in shock, realizing for the first time that Hotch was dating a doctor.

“And don’t you dare tell me it was part of the job! Your job is to stay alive so you can come home in one piece, not to play hero with your life!” You sighed, your anger giving way to worry. “Aaron, please… I can’t keep doing this if you’re going to keep risking your life like this. I need you to be careful.”

Hotch finally spoke, his voice low and sincere. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll be more careful, I promise.” You hugged him, relieved that he was okay.

The team exchanged glances, a mixture of surprise and amusement on their faces. This was a side of Aaron Hotchner they’ve never seen before.

“You better be,” you said firmly. “And next time, you call me as soon as you’re in the hospital. I don’t want to hear about it from someone else.”

You give him a pointed look before exiting the room, leaving the team in stunned silence.

After a moment, Morgan was the first to break the quiet. “Hotch, you didn’t tell us you were dating a doctor,” he said with a grin on his lips.

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Not relevant?” Emily chimed in, in disbelief. “Hotch, they just chewed you out in front of the whole team. I think it’s pretty relevant.”

Hotch just shrugs, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

If you like my work please consider liking and reblogging.

[freakin-edikan]

Hi. I know you guys remember Mars from when they used to post on this site as sensitiveblackperson, right?

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by real down to mars girl 🇭🇹 (@biblicallyaccuratebisexual)

For the past several months they've been fundraising to escape their abusive roommate, who's been attempting to illegally evict them while withholding their security deposit. They now have several court hearings to attend on account of their roommate lying about them and reporting them to the police, so they need funds for legal representation, too.

I've been seeing this scenario play out in real time and I can't think of much else to do. I don't have much of a reach on any platform. I don't have a lot of money. I wanted to get Mina Le to share their fundraiser posts since she talked about Art Hoe in a video several months ago, but I don't know if she ever did.

I've linked above the latest in several fundraising posts they've made on Instagram. The goal says $2000, but due to the legal proceedings, they're going to need more than that. Since the start of their campaign, they've made about $500. If you can, please chip in and share this.

vnmo: @mutatedmango cshpp: $mutatedmango or you can send gifts via pypal to marsinterlude@gmail.com