#not sure if this is what you needed to read

[robertpattersonsleftcoochieflap]

Genshin Impact headcanons

BIG TITTIE COMMITTEE

Itto, Kaeya, Alhaitham, Childe & Wriothsley

Contents: Big tiddie men react to you (their partner) shoving your face in their tiddies.

Warnings: men tiddies, suggestive content, slight nsfw, fluff

Itto

"Hey, babe- What are you doing?" Itto laughed in surprise at your sudden affection. You feel his hard chest rumble as he laughs, making you nuzzle your face between his pecks. Both of your hands reach up and grope his muscular pecks, lightly squeezing them.

"Woah there! Getting handsy are we? Two can play at that game, baby." Itto reached down and grabbed you by the waist with two large, strong hands and easily hoisted you up so your own chest was level with his face.

"Hey! I was enjoying myself there!" You whined at him, giggling lightly at his fluffy white hair tickling you as he nuzzled his face between your breasts. He stopped and looked up at you with a smirk.

"Don't worry, I got something else for you to enjoy."

.

.

.

Did I mention that he has nipple piercings?

Kaeya

You were truly at your wits end with Kaeya. All day you'd been watching him strut in and out of your office, delivering you paperwork in his usual outfit. Only throughout the day, you had noticed something strange. Every time you saw him, his undershirt seemingly became lower and lower. He'd also made sure to bend over your desk every time he passed you your work, giving you full view down his shirt.

You'd finally had enough by the end of the day. It was late and everyone in the knights of Favonious' headquarters had gone home -- besides the usual knights that guarded the front entrance, yourself and of course Kaeya. You had just finished signing your final piece of paperwork when your blue-haired partner slinked through your door.

"Finished yet?" You looked at him, immediately taking note of his teasing smirk.

"Not yet." You paused, your eyes dropping down to his semi-bare chest, "There's still something I need to do." You look back up into his eye. You motioned him over with a single finger. Once he stood before you, you grip him by his ridiculously slender waist and pull him into your lap, finally burrowing your face into his firm-but-ample chest.

"My, my~ It seems somebody has been struggling today." Kaeya mused, his arms hugging your shoulders. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing you all day. You groan into the valley between his pecks.

"Kaeya, you're truly evil." He laughed at your defeated tone.

"I know." With that, he pulls you up into a kiss.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham was perched in his usual reading corner when you arrived home from class. He greeted you and continued his reading. You had a very long and tiresome day at the academia that day. It seemed like nothing you did was right and it made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. You needed your boyfriend.

Alhaitham looks up at you as you approach him. "Can I touch you?" You ask, knowing sometimes your boyfriend gets a little overstimulated after a long day at the academia.

His eyes scan over you for a moment before he sets his book down and moves himself into a more comfortable position to accommodate you. "Of course." You immediately fall onto his lap and bury your head into his chest, his pecks making for a good pillow to rest your head and his heartbeat calming your soul. You close your eyes and just listen, enjoying the calm ambience.

"Has something happened today?" He asks. You shake your head and mumble, "Jus' needed you." You look up from his chest and see a light blush dusting his ears and face. His strong arms tighten around your body and he gently kisses your forehead.

No more words were exchanged for a while after that. You both just enjoyed the quiet ambience of each others company...

.

.

.

That was until Kaveh came home after his class and complained both your ears off about a project he was assigned.

(Autistic Alhaitham is real.)

Childe

Despite your husband being a fearsome harbinger of the fatui, he was gentle with you. Even during your episodes of play fighting. Ajax laughed loudly as you attempt to tackle him to your shared bed. He'd just made it back home from his business trip to Liyue and you were eager to get your hands on your ginger partner.

You had missed him dearly, but you also understood that his work was extremely important and he even had to complete quests asked of him by the beloved Tsaritsa herself. "I swear I'm going to lock you up so you cannot leave me again." You wrapped your arms and legs around his sturdy body, nuzzling your face into his neck and taking in his familiar scent.

Ajax chuckled and hugged you tighter. "Alright." He sat you both down on the bed where you finally pulled away to take in his appearance. You raised an eyebrow.

"A harness, Ajax? This is what the fatui have you wearing?" You tugged on his chest harness, enjoying the way his body came forward with it. "Yes, they do. Got a problem with that?" He asked, amused by the question.

"Perhaps I really should lock you away." Your hands ran over his chest, admiring the way it looked with the harness tightened around it. You flatten your hand in the middle of his chest and shove him down, leaning over to look him in the eye. "Can't have anyone else seeing you this."

The ginger raised an eyebrow and smirked, watching as you stared at his chest with a glazed look in your eyes. That's when you begin unbuttoning his shirt, making sure to leave the harness on. Once his shirt is unbuttoned, that is when you strike.

You waste no time shoving your face into his pecs, gripping them with both your hands and squeezing them together. Ajax laughs, his hands rub up and down your waist, as you continue your assault. That's when you bite. His whole body twitches and he lets out a yelp. "H-hey!" This does not deter you though. You've been without this man for weeks and you're determined to get your fill of him. You nip, suck and bite across his chest, leaving marks in your path. By the end of it, your husband was thoroughly ruffled, his face sporting a deep blush and his chest and neck covered in marks left by you. You sat up and smirked in satisfaction with your work. You meet his half lidded eyes.

"Take off your clothes.... Leave the harness on though."

.

.

.

You'd truly never seen this man move faster.

Wriothesley

You had been pissing Wriothesley off all day. You'd made it your objective today to see how long it would take him to crack before he punished you -- And you were doing a hell of a good job of it.

The Duke was at his wits end with you. You'd purposely been flaunting around his office all day in your skimpiest clothes and talking back to him. Making sexual innuendos at every possible opportunity and even going as far as to flirt with guards in front of him. It was an hour away from lights out and he was almost done with his paperwork when you sauntered out of your shared bedroom, and back into his office. He immediately gritted his teeth. You were in nothing but one of his dress shirts.

You were thoroughly enjoying the reactions you so easily drew out of your husband. It was immensely entertaining to you. Especially since there was little to do in the Fortress of Meropide. I mean, what did he expect locking you down here?

You sauntered your way over to him, taking no notice of the work he was doing and drape yourself across his lap. He let out a deep growl of your name. You only smirk up at him in response and play with the tie around his neck, tugging on it.

"What's wrong with you today?" He grumbled out, his tone frustrated.

"Bored," You say nonchalantly. "And I want attention." You run your finger down his chest, picking at the dip in his dress shirt. Wriothesley let out a groan. "So you've distracted me all day? Because you wanted attention?"

You grinned up at him, "Yep." You said, popping the P. He let out a sigh and shook his head at your ridiculousness. "Well, I have a few more things to do. Do not distract me." You didn't reply.

The Duke continued to do his work, ignoring you completely. You pouted. Then an idea bloomed in your head and your gaze dropped down to the muscular chest before you.

Wriothesley let out a yelp. You were too busy groping him to notice. You had your face shoved between his tits, rubbing your face in the grey chest hair between them, your hands slipped into his shirt, squeezing and pulling at his pierced nipples.

"Okay, that's it." He gripped the back of your collar and pulled you out of his cleavage like a scolded kitten.

"Hey! I was busy-" You were cut off by him throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and storming off with you to your shared bedroom.

.

.

.

It was going to be a long night for you.

[eclips-moon]

The Batboys being clingy headcanon:

Including Duke and Bruce <3

Hope you guys like it!

Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.

Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.

Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.

Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.

Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”

Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.

[yourlocalbreadenthusiast]

Kindly take a break from scrolling to read this, it's important.

Take your time to grieve and come to terms with the election results, but once you've done that, it's time to get to work. We have two months. And a lot to do in that time. We have to prepare, to be ready.

Be careful about what you post or say online. Anything potentially incriminating should be avoided. Threatening language, even if clearly a joke, can be used against you.

Know someone who's trans? Someone who's had an abortion? Someone who's LGBTQIA+? Someone who's an immigrant? Someone who attends protests? Someone who's disabled? Someone who might in any way be at risk due to laws being put into place? No you don't.

Move away from social media platforms and browsers that require you to use your real identity or input a large amount of personal information. Now's a good time to find alternate means of communicating online. Tails, Element, Tor, Mastodon, Firefox, and Lemmy are all decent options.

Find a community. Someone you can talk to, either online or in real life, that you'll have reliable contact with. We need to try and create a network, but one that's as anonymous as possible.

Start scrubbing your trail as much as possible. Get rid of old accounts that can still be traced to you but are no longer used, delete personal data off the internet. There are websites out there that will freely remove your data from the internet, but be careful about which one you use, make sure it's safe and legitimate first.

Change any usernames that you can that contain any personal information. Names, birthdays, anything.

Plan B has a four year shelf life. Stock up, but don't take more than you you'll need. We don't want a COVID repeat where everyone buys an excessive amount of things and leaves none for everybody else.

There are doctors that will sterilize you, if that's the way you want to go.

Stop using online period trackers right now. Delete all data from it if possible first, then delete the app itself. If you must, write it down, but in a subtle manner and on something you keep at home. Don't label it, just put the dates. If you're really worried, discard older records and only keep the most recent few, and label the dates as other random events, like "go to mall" or "chicken salad for dinner this night"

Get your vaccines now.

Save money.

Archive. We have to start collecting records, media, data, books, and articles now. On racism, on fascism, on homophobia, on gender, on self-reliance, on survival, on safe travels routes, on equality, on justice, on anything that may be useful and/or censored soon. We can't let them erase it.

Collect those online resources. Bookmark them, copy files into your storage, Screenshot pages. Create a decentralized library where everyone is working to be part of a whole, storing what they can individually and sharing it between one another. Again, be careful about doing this.

Second-hand bookstores are your best friend. Books are usually very cheap in them, and they often have a decent stock. See what you can find.

When buying ANYTHING I have mentioned above, or anything else that maybe put you in danger, try to use cash to reduce your spending trail.

Check your car information online, many newer models can be remotely tracked.

Turn your phone completely off if you may be at risk due to your location and current activities. Turning off your GPS also helps.

Take note of where you are. Who are your friends? Who's a safe person? Where can you go besides your own home that you know you'll be safe? Establish these connections now.

Who around you is not safe? Who and where do you need to avoid? Do you need to move? If you cannot afford moving but need to, there are fundraisers that can help you. If even that is not an option, at least try to make sure your home is secure. Have someone who can help you. Have a fallback safe place.

And finally, I want anyone with resources to put them in the replies. Flood it with useful links, information, tips, anything. We're in this together. Do not panic. Organize.

[jobean12-blog]

Adventures in Babysitting

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: You and Bucky are friends and it's clear you both want more but you fight it, scared of your feelings and ruining what you have together. But spending some quality time together can't be such a bad idea...right?

Author's Note: I just needed some fluffiness. So here we are. The little girl in this (niece) is probably around 6ish-7. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thanks Daisy! 🥰

Warnigns: soft and sweet fluff, some flirting, tension, teasing, lots of cute.

You order your second drink from the barista and weave through the small line to get back to your table. Most of the staff here know you by name and don’t mind that you spend a few hours of your weekend morning enjoying a drink (or three) and reading.

Settling back into the chair you grab your book and try to find where you left off. The door to the shop opens and cool breeze blows in. Taking your warm cup between your fingers you lift it to your lips, hoping the heat will seep into your bones, when you hear your name.

You blink up to see Bucky standing near the counter and a different kind of warmth rushes through your body. His hair is messy, and he’s dressed in a tee shirt and sweats, as if he’s just been out for a run. Even a little sweaty, he looks better than should be allowed.

He pulls out his wallet to pay and your eyes drop automatically to the way the damp tee shirt clings to his shoulders and dips in at his waist, down to where his hip bones…

The sound of the chair scraping along the floor makes you snap your head up to meet his eyes, blue and clearly amused to have caught you ogling him.

He sits across from you, stretching his arms out on the table, and takes his time doing his own, totally blatant, inspection.

You raise a brow.

“Little chilly for a run, isn’t it?” you say.

He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink.

“Let me guess though, as usual, you’re not cold at all.”

He aims a smile at you, ignoring your teasing remark.

“So,” you start, trying again, “what are you doing here?”

His eyes sparkle and he leans forward to push the book in your hands upward, positioning it so he can see the front cover.

“Lookin’ for you doll,” he says simply before reading the title.

“Enjoying your romance?” he asks after, his smile growing wider.

It’s your turn to shrug and you place your bookmark inside the book and close it.

Under the table he stretches his long legs out in front of him and brackets each of his feet against yours, the sides of your legs touching.

“Well?” he asks again.

“I just started it. The tension is building…you know a slow burn, but I think it has potential.”

He stares at you, relaying so much in his expression: just like us?

“Want to get some dinner later?”

“Actually, I have plans,” you tell him.

His expression falls just the tiniest amount.

“Plans?”

“My brother and Marie have a wedding to go to and I promised I’d watch Samantha.”

“Babysitting!” he states. “Now that sounds fun.”

You give him a look and start to gather your things.

“I need to do a few errands before I head over.”

You stand and hook your bag over your shoulder before pushing the chair in. He stands and reaches forward to untwist the strap.

“Ok.”

You stand there, the obvious question (and tension) hanging between you.

“Do you want to babysit with me?” you ask. “Even though I’m sure you’ll find it totally boring.”

“I’ve hung out with Sam’s kids a lot. They’re fun.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you watch the smooth line of his throat as he swallows.

“Soooo…you want to come?”

“Why not?”

“You might be bored out of your mind.”

His smile melts your insides.

“Maybe doll, but wouldn’t it be more fun if we’re bored together?”

“Are you sure?” you ask. “There will probably be tea parties, and dolls, and a makeover.”

He follows as you head toward the door and holds it open.

“Thanks,” you say.

He smiles. “I’m sure. It’s nothin’ I can’t handle.”

“Ok, great!”

“So, what time?” he asks.

“Five. And you have to bring pizza and let her do your hair if she asks.”

“You know��and I can’t believe I’m saying this, you’re a great babysitter.”

You wiggle your toes, feet propped up on the coffee table and still drying from the bright pink nail polish Samantha painted on.

Bucky grins at you from across the way where he’s sitting with Sam at a small table, in an even smaller chair, in the middle of what appears to be a very fancy tea party.

His usually soft, floppy hair is spiky now, tied up by bright hair ties in about ten tiny, crazy ponytails.

He leans toward Sam conspiratorially and shoves his thumb in your direction. “I told you she thinks I’m great.”

Sam slides some decorative barrettes into his mess of hair. “And you said cute.”

“You mean you said you’re cute,” you explain, eyeing Bucky. “I never said such a thing.”

“I never said you said it…” Bucky counters and politely thanks Sam when she gives him more tea. “But I know you’re thinking it. Especially right now.”

He throws you a little wink.

Sam smiles at Bucky then at you.

“I think he looks cute!” she says sweetly.

You stand and walk over to them, kissing the top of Sam’s head and without thinking, brushing a finger over a piece of Bucky’s hair that’s come loose.

“Well, you definitely get points for being a good sport.”

You expect him to shoot back with some snarky comment about “points” meaning a blow job or something, but instead he just says, “I’m havin’ fun doll.”

“Do you want more tea?” Sam asks you.

“No thanks baby. It’s getting late and I don’t want to drink anymore. It might keep us up.”

“Well,” she starts with some sass, “I’m not tired.”

She turns back to her dolls and then adds, “and I want to keep playing with Bucky. Don’t you think he’s nice?”

Bucky snickers and you lightly smack the back of his head but before you can answer Sam she continues with another addition to Bucky’s lovely attributes.

“And cute?”                                     

You kneel down beside her, smoothing your hands over her cheeks.

“He is nice,” you say.

“And?”

Her sweet voice once again has some sass.

“And cute,” you add with a roll of your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes light up in triumph and you can’t stop your smile.

“It’s late. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Her lip sticks out and her eyes grow wide.

“But I’m sure Bucky can come back and play again soon. And I’ll bet we can get him to read you a story before bed.”

That seems to placate her for the moment, and she says, “we’re going to watch Moana. He pinky promised.”

You turn to Bucky. “You pinky promised?”

He gives you a heart stopping smile.

“Guess we’re watching some Moana before bed,” you concede.

Sam agrees to pajamas and teeth brushing before the movie. The three of you settle onto the couch, Sam in Bucky’s lap and you, at her insistence, next to them. Right next to them. You’re all three crammed into one corner and she allows him to take out the hair ties and barrettes with little fuss if he promises to wear his Barbie necklace and never take it off. Ever.

Bucky agrees steadfastly and Sam beams up at him, resting her head on his chest and reaching for his hand.

He’s solid and warm at your side, and it takes a few minutes to get her settled, but soon she’s snuggled up and rather pleased with herself.

Her hand looks positively tiny in his and you keep blinking down to it, marveling at how much bigger he is than her and how absolutely soft and gentle he’s being.

You try desperately to pay attention to the movie. You love Moana. But it’s hard to follow along amid the internal crisis you’re having over his holding her hand and snuggling with her. It’s not sexy. Not sexy at all.

Some time later, Bucky’s voice breaks into your thoughts: “I think she’s out doll.”

You look over to meet his eyes, and in the low light flickering from the TV he’s all sharp jawline and lush lips. The ends of his dark lashes glow against the screen.

“Is she asleep?” he asks you.

You blink out of your stupor before you understand what he’s asking and lean forward to check. Sure enough, her eyes are closed, her breaths soft and even.

“Yep, out like a light. Nice work.”

“I do make a pretty good bed,” he smirks. “But I’m sure the two slices of pizza and cookies did most of the work.”

“No really, “you whisper. “This whole night…you’re amazing. You waltz in here with dinner and cookies and your dreamboat smile, all sweet and charming. You made this whole thing easy. Well done Barnes.”

“You think I’m charming?” he says, and grins.

The light from the TV accents the way his face softens then he smiles, and you have to look away.

“Is that all you took out of that whole thing” you ask.

“I also got sweet, dreamboat…easy.”

You laugh, rubbing a hand over your face. “Of course you did.”

Bucky chuckles softly and rearranges Sam on his lap.

“But really, this was fun. “Sam is a real cutie, and you know I love hangin’ out with you.”

You swallow and try to make sense of what you’re feeling, wanting to explain it to him.

A beat of silence passes between you, and he looks over at the TV. You know you’ve been quiet too long when he clears his throat and shifts next to you.

The air between you is crackling with charge and you’re finding it difficult to deal.

He leans in and tilts his head to look at you. You shift forward and he’s so close, close enough that you can feel each breath and count the tiny patches of gray hairs that line his cheek. His eyes drop to your mouth and back up and he’s asking if this is okay, giving you time to close the distance or pull away.

You want to kiss him.

It takes the smallest effort on your part before you feel him, the barest brush of his lips, the slight catch in his breath against your own. He smells like the six chocolate chip cookies he ate after dinner, and your mouth nearly waters, imagining how good he’ll taste.

Without thinking you close your eyes and part your lips and…

Sam makes a small sound in her sleep and says your name.

You and Bucky exhale like you’ve been holding your breath, before he sits back, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Am I an awful person that I would have given her a thousand bucks to sleep for ten more minutes?” he asks.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you laugh. “Only ten?”

He stares at you, watching you settle back against the couch. After a few minutes you feel his finger brush absently along your wrist.

You wonder if his fingers itch like yours whenever he’s around, or if he feels the same tug-of-war inside his chest.

Unable to control the nerves firing rapidly inside your brain you make your hand move, keeping your eyes straight ahead and focused on the TV while turning your palm over and twisting your fingers with his.

He tightens his grip.

Sam is softly breathing with her head resting against your shoulder and after only a few moments of hesitation, you feel Bucky do the same.

The weight of him next to you, so strong and warm, feels comfortable and safe, and soon your eyelids droop. You sink farther into the couch and Bucky, falling asleep to the sounds of The Rock singing, “you’re welcome.”

It can’t be too long after when the front door opens. You vaguely hear footsteps and blink several times before you can make out your brother standing in front of you, holding his phone in his outstretched arm.

“What are you…are you taking a picture?” you ask, voice groggy.

“Do you have any idea how cute you two are?” he asks, looking at this phone before turning the screen toward you.

“That’s super-creeptastic bro.”

You feel Bucky stir next to you and he sits up with a start.

“Relax Barnes,” you brother says. “I’m not gonna beat you up for catching you with the babysitter.”

You realize that you and Bucky are still holding hands, and you pull yours away, ignoring the way you can still feel his palm against your own.

“Really creepy,” you say, gently handing over Sam to your brother.

“How was she?” he asks, smoothing her hair.

“An angel, like always. But she might be marrying Bucky. So, there’s that.”

Your brother laughs. “She could do a lot worse,” he says, then motions that he’s going to put her to bed.

You say goodbye and Bucky walks you out to your car. You stand across from each other, pretending that you didn’t just barely kiss and that you weren’t holding hands. Regardless, things feel calm and safe.

It’s dark and you fumble for the door handle, opening the car to set your bag down inside. When you turn, Bucky takes your hand, looking down at the way it fits in his.

“I had a lot of fun doll. Thanks for letting me hang.”

“Are you kidding? This was the best. Thanks for coming.”

It looks like he’s about to ask you something but then thinks better of it and instead leans in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“Sure,” you answer.

On impulse, you cup his face and stretch to place the lightest kiss on his warm lips.

Stunned, he just stands there, watching as you step back and fight a smile.

His eyebrows slowly rise.

“Doll, you just kissed me.”

“Only a tiny kiss.” You smile up at him and notice the way his eyes flicker to your lips.

He doesn’t move away and instead takes a small step forward, pushing your back against your car door.

Your hand comes up from your side, moving along his chest and around to grab the back of his neck.

“Doll?”

You pull, stretching at the same time and bringing your mouth just a breath away from his.

“Are you…?”

“Just kiss me?” you whisper.

Your fingers tangle in the hair at the back of his neck and you trail kisses along his jaw, soft and hesitant.

His illusion of restraint shatters and he takes your face in both hands and with a groan, presses his lips against yours. He tilts your head, feeling the clench of your hands in his hair, and steps closer, sliding his hands down your back.

He tugs you as close as possible, lining all your softness up with the hard planes of his body.

When he pulls back he’s breathing heavily and he cradles your face in his hands, softly brushing his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Can I…?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Do you want…?” you whisper at the same time.

He smiles and it’s so sincere, crinkling the corners of his eyes and making you swoon.

“Yeah. Yeah I do doll.”

He kisses you again, his lips lingering before he asks, “my place or yours?”

[stopsadienorth]

listen sorry to hijack this post but i have some information that needs public attention

there's an extremely new and extremely effective suicide method that isn't even 5 years old being spread by the world's largest suicide forum. this method overrides a lot of the mental obstacle that make suicide such a difficult task to carry out and undermines survival instinct.

Source: Where the Despairing Log On, and Learn Ways to Die

Removed paywall link

the law outlawing it has yet to pass senate, but california has already outlawed it, and most websites currently only sell the chemical to businesses due to public pressure. the bill hit senate in may and nothing has happened since.

H.R.4310 - Youth Poisoning Protection Act

you can click "Contact Your Member" on the side panel and write an email explaining how important this bill is to you to your local senate representative.

something you can do right now is call your local hospital pharmacy, and ask what they would do in the event of a sodium nitrite overdose. demand that they have the cure, methylene blue, in stock. many hospitals don't even have this on hand, and even fewer first responders are prepared or informed on what to do. this method is so dangerous, that if the hospital doesn't have the cure in stock, you will likely still die even if you change your mind and call emergency services right away.

and to anyone else who has fallen down the rabbit hole like me, who know what terms like CTB, SaSu, DMC, and SN means. get out. they don't care about you. the creators of the forum have a long history of running incel and anti-feminist forums that have been associated with violent acts. both creators are self-identified incels. they love the attention, they love playing god. several of their rules are there only for appearances. read the rules. read the posts. notice what is and isn't enforced, notice the dwindling recovery thread. there are people who understand your pain on there more than anyone in your personal life ever will, but they are sick just like you. don't become one of their kills.

if your partner is suicidal, your friend, your child, please make sure they aren't going to this site. make sure to vet any packages they get, make sure their immediate family and friends know not to let them ship to their address. (example: shipping to your address for a "christmas gift" for their partner) make sure you know exactly what to do in this situation, and that your local hospital is prepared. if you ever find your suicidal loved one unconscious, in cardiac arrest, rapid/stalled breathing, coughing, incoherent speech, vomiting, with an empty glass nearby or salty breath, pass on the information to emergency services that you suspect it is a sodium nitrite overdose.

so many people have died and will continue to die if we don't use our voice to support legislation and spread information on how to combat this method. someone, anyone please listen.

💙 USA 💙

national suicide prevention (edit: alternatives to 988)

national domestic violence hotline

national sexual abuse hotline

trans lifeline and resources

💙INTERNATIONAL💙

list of suicide hotlines by country

domestic violence hotlines and resources by country

sexual (+ domestic) abuse agencies by country

international trans resources

edit: taking this opportunity whilst this gets traction!

Palestine Children Relief Fund

Lebanon Red Cross

International Rescue Committee (Sudan, Lebanon, Gaza, Congo etc.)

Ukraine Red Cross

[menagerofmischief]

Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

[hitomisuzuya]

Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.

But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...

And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.

Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.

i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.

if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.

you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.

"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.

"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.

anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.

"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.

"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.

"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?

he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.

but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.

this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.

you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.

you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."

he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."

your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"

scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.

"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.

sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."

fuck, fuck, fuck!

he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.

and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.

even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..

he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.

how dare you make him fall in love.

you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.

he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.

"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.

...

fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!

"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"

scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?

and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.

you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.

having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.

"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."

you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.

he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"

he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.

his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.

your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.

you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.

you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.

"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.

[chosok-amo]

BLUE : GETO SUGURU

& sum. you’ve been feeling blue lately, more sadder than usual this past week, and all you’ve ever felt is just sadness and you don’t know what happened to you, all you’ve ever wanted is just being hugged by your boyfriend.

warning. non-sorcerer au, fem! reader, angst to comfort, so much comfort lol.

you’ve been feeling down lately, a heavy, unshakable sadness settling over you that you can’t quite explain. it’s been there for a while now—lingering for a week, maybe even longer. it feels as if a dark cloud has settled over you, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe, to move, to do anything without feeling weighed down. even the smallest things seem difficult; every movement feels like dragging yourself through mud, and your mind feels stuck in a fog. the sadness wraps around you tightly, leaving you hollow and empty, and no matter what you try, it just won’t go away.

you’ve lost your appetite completely. food seems tasteless, and there’s no desire to eat when there’s no joy, no spark to fuel you. you hardly have the energy to cook or even consider what you might like. days pass, and you notice how hollow your stomach feels, but the thought of eating feels pointless. it’s like there’s a pit in your chest that even the best meal couldn’t fill.

but geto notices. he always notices, especially when something’s wrong with you. he knows you better than anyone, and even when you try to put on a brave face, he can see right through it. he watches you carefully, studying every small shift in your expression, every slouch of your shoulders, the way your eyes seem a little more distant lately. his intuition, his attention to detail—it’s like he’s tuned into every unspoken feeling you have.

he doesn’t waste any time. geto starts showing up more often, making sure you’re not left alone with the heaviness pressing down on you. whenever he has a break from college, he’s there, by your side, making sure you’re eating, gently coaxing you to have at least a few bites. he’ll sit beside you, bringing your favorite meals, reminding you with a gentle, soft voice that food might help you feel better. he’s patient, never pushing too hard but persistent enough to remind you he’s there and he’s not going anywhere.

and he stays close. his presence feels steady, grounding you when the sadness feels overwhelming. he doesn’t leave you alone for too long, always keeping you within his sight, whether he’s sitting across from you, reading while you rest or quietly checking in every now and then, gently brushing your shoulder or squeezing your hand just to let you know he’s there. his touch is always warm, comforting, and he seems to know just how much you need it, how much you need him, without you having to say a word.

geto doesn’t let you slip away. even when you feel yourself pulling back, withdrawing into that sadness, he pulls you back softly, reminding you of his care, his unwavering support. he’s there through it all—through the silences, the times when words feel too heavy to speak, the moments when you feel like you’re drowning in the quiet ache in your chest. he becomes your anchor, the one steady thing in the midst of it all, and he reminds you, bit by bit, that you’re not alone.

you walk slowly towards him, your shoulders slouched, feeling the weight of sadness pressing down on you harder than it has all week. today feels different—heavier, sharper, and the ache in your chest is almost too much to bear. it’s like every step you take is carrying the burden of everything you’re trying to hold back, and you can feel tears welling up, threatening to spill over at any moment. your throat feels tight, and your vision blurs a little as you get closer to him.

geto looks up from his book the moment he senses you nearby, his eyes softening as he takes you in. his book is forgotten almost instantly, and he sets it aside, opening his arms without a word, inviting you into his warmth. you don’t even have to ask; it’s like he can feel your sadness, see every bit of the weight you’re carrying, and he just knows you need him.

you slide into the couch next to him, his arms already waiting to envelop you, pulling you gently against his chest. as you curl up against him, feeling his warmth seep into you, the ache in your chest loosens just a bit, allowing you to breathe a little easier. you press your back against him, sinking into his embrace, and his arms tighten around you, holding you as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

with your head resting under his chin, you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat a calm, grounding rhythm beneath you. you close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, and as soon as you exhale, a few quiet tears escape, trailing down your cheeks. you’re grateful for the way he just holds you, silently and steadily, not rushing you to speak or asking what’s wrong. instead, he lets you exist in this moment, letting you feel whatever it is you need to feel, knowing he’s here beside you.

geto leans in closer, his breath soft against the top of your head, and his fingers slowly rubs your back. his touch is gentle, tender, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he applies even an ounce of pressure. his shirt is soft against your cheek, and warmth from his body seems to melt into you, offering a small comfort amidst the storm of sadness within you.

he stays quiet, the silence between you heavy yet somehow not uncomfortable. the feeling of your tears staining his shirt. he doesn’t speak, not yet—he knows now isn’t the time for words, but rather, time for silent understanding and support.

he dips his head, nuzzling gently into your hair, savoring the familiar scent of you. his warm breath dances over the top of your head, a silent reassurance that he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere.

but the moment his arm slips beneath your neck and he wraps himself around you, it’s like a dam finally breaks. your tears, already close to spilling over, begin to fall freely, quicker than you can hold back. you don’t even try to stop them, letting the wave of sadness flow out as you cling to him, your hands gripping his arm like he’s the only anchor holding you in place.

you bury your face against his arm, your quiet sobs muffled against the soft fabric of his shirt. his warmth, his steady presence, all of it feels like a lifeline amidst the storm raging inside you. you squeeze his arm tightly, needing the reassurance of his solidity, his unwavering support. the way he holds you, so tenderly, so carefully, only makes you feel more secure. it’s as if he’s sheltering you from the sadness, wrapping you up in his embrace as if he could protect you from everything that feels too overwhelming to face.

you feel his hand slowly rubbing your back, each gentle stroke grounding you, easing the ache just a little bit more. his touch is comforting, gentle yet full of strength, and you can feel his silent promise in every movement—that he’s here, he’s got you, and he’s not going to let you go.

geto feels the shuddering sobs rip through your body, your hold on him impossibly tight, like you're clutching to him as a lifeline. a protective feeling, deep and strong as iron, washes over him, and he pulls you closer, molding your trembling frame to his own. he tightens his arms around you, almost as if he could somehow hold the pieces of you together, keep you from shattering beneath the weight of the pain you were carrying.

he doesn’t try to speak, nor does he try to ask what’s wrong. he simply keeps rubbing soothing circles into your back, his lips hovering above

your head in a silent gesture of comfort. he keeps you tucked against him, holding you close, trying to offer whatever tiny bit of comfort he can amidst the storm of sadness within you. his heartbeat thuds steadily into your ear, a constant rhythm. it says, “i’m here, i’m here, i’m here,” over and over, and his arms, wrapped so tightly around you, are a steady, gentle pressure, promising that he’s not going to go anywhere, that he’ll just keep holding you together until the storm passes.

he murmurs soft, soothing endearments into your hair, his voice a low, tender rumble, “i’ve got you, i’ve got you…i’ve got you...”

he keeps you firmly against him, the feeling of your tears, the quiet sobs, a reminder of the immense pain you’re feeling. he nuzzles his face gently into your hair once more, the motion a silent, tender expression of his love.

for now, he just wants to hold you, to be a steady presence for a bit longer, and slowly, gently try and ease the sadness ripping through you.

his voice is a soft murmur, gentle yet filled with concern. “c’mere,” he whispers, his fingers brushing lightly along your shoulder, coaxing you to turn toward him. something in his tone is so tender, so patient, that you find yourself instinctively following, shifting in his arms until you’re facing him.

without a second thought, you wrap your arms around his torso, holding onto him tightly, as if he’s the only thing keeping you from crumbling. you bury your face against his neck, his familiar scent wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. the warm notes of vanilla and the rich depth of oud wood settle your heart just a little, bringing a faint sense of peace amidst the lingering sadness. the scent is so unmistakably him, grounding you, reminding you that you’re safe here, held close in his arms.

geto’s hand comes up, his fingers threading softly through your hair, his other hand pressing lightly against the small of your back, keeping you close. his touch is soothing, gentle in a way that lets you know he understands, that he’s here with you in this moment, sharing in the weight of your sadness without needing to say a word.

“i’m here,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. there’s a softness to his voice that makes you feel seen, truly understood in a way that words alone can’t convey. he holds you even tighter, his arms a steady fortress around you as you let yourself sink further into him. he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t try to stop your tears; instead, he leans into them, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, another quiet assurance that he’s with you.

his hand moves slowly, rubbing small circles on your back, a comforting rhythm that gradually eases some of the tension in your shoulders. the steady rise and fall of his breathing, his warmth, his scent—all of it pulls you away from the sadness just a bit, like a quiet anchor grounding you amidst the storm.

“it’s okay,” he murmurs softly, his voice steady. “take your time… i’m not going anywhere.” with those words, you feel a small shift, a fragile flicker of calm, knowing that you don’t have to face this alone. held in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and gentle reassurance, the ache in your chest softens, if only slightly. and somehow, in the quiet of his embrace, you feel a little bit of your sadness begin to lighten, piece by piece, as you rest against him.

geto leans back against the couch, pulling you along with him so you’re now cradled against his chest. his hands keep rubbing your back slowly, his touch firm, gentle, comforting. he doesn’t try to push you to speak, he just lets you cry into his chest, his shirt growing wet from your tears.

he keeps his arms tightly wrapped around you, holding you close, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. he dips his head down, pressing a few gentle kisses on the top of your head, the gesture soft, tender, trying to soothe away some of the ache.

after a while, your breathing evens out, and your tears finally begin to slow. your fingers, which had been gripping his shirt so tightly, start to relax, your hand slipping slightly as the weight of exhaustion settles in. geto glances down and notices the change, his eyes softening as he realizes you’ve drifted off to sleep in his arms. the tear tracks glisten faintly on your cheeks, and your face is marked by the quiet aftermath of sadness—eyes and nose red, the last traces of tears still fresh on your skin.

he doesn’t move, barely even breathes, afraid to disturb the fragile peace that’s settled over you. instead, he adjusts his hold gently, one arm wrapped securely around you while his other hand lifts, fingers tenderly brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. he takes in every detail of your face, the vulnerability in your expression, the exhaustion that has finally pulled you into rest.

geto’s thumb grazes lightly across your cheek, wiping away the remaining traces of tears with a touch so soft it’s almost reverent. his heart aches, seeing the sadness etched onto your sleeping face, and he silently promises to be here, to stay by your side through every moment, no matter how heavy it gets.

carefully, he shifts a bit to make you more comfortable, pulling a nearby blanket over you both, making sure you’re warm and secure in his arms. he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if he could transfer some of his own strength to you, a silent promise that he’s here, that he’ll carry the weight with you.

with one last look at your peaceful, albeit tear-stained, face, he settles back, his hand resting protectively on your back as he lets you sleep, holding you close through the noon, fall asleep with you in his arm.

the soft evening light fills the room, muted and gentle, casting a cozy glow around you and geto as you slowly wake from your nap. both of you lie on the couch that geto has carefully rearranged into a makeshift bed, layered with soft pillows and a warm, thick blanket draped over your legs. the couch-turned-bed isn’t just a place to sit anymore—it’s a little haven, a comforting spot where you can rest and feel safe, and geto made sure to set it up so you’d feel just that.

your eyes are puffy, still swollen from the tears you shed earlier, and there's a lingering heaviness, but it feels softer now. after crying so much, your body feels lighter in a way, like some of the sadness has flowed out, leaving a quieter calm in its place. geto’s presence beside you has worked like a balm, soothing some of the hurt that had been weighing on you. on the tv across from you, Coraline is playing. its familiar, almost dreamlike scenes add to the comforting atmosphere, something nostalgic and easy for your mind to focus on without effort. it’s a small but thoughtful choice—geto put it on because he knows it’s a favorite, and its soft glow and gentle storytelling help keep you grounded.

meanwhile, geto is in the kitchen, preparing dinner with quiet care. he’s decided to order takeout from your favorite restaurant; he didn’t feel like cooking tonight, but he knew you needed something special, something comforting. it’s a thoughtful choice, not just because he’s sparing himself the effort of cooking, but because he knows how much little gestures like your favorite food can lift your spirits. even though he isn’t beside you at this moment, he’s thinking of you, and every action he takes tonight is meant to comfort you in the gentlest, simplest ways.

outside, rain taps heavily against the windows, the steady sound creating a peaceful rhythm that wraps around you like an embrace. the world beyond the glass feels quiet and distant, softened by the rain. the storm outside feels almost symbolic of the emotional storm you went through earlier, but now, it’s calming, soothing rather than overwhelming. the sadness in your heart, once so sharp and heavy, feels lighter now, thanks to the release you allowed yourself and the comfort geto has provided.

a little while later, geto returns, balancing two plates of food carefully in his hands. he sets them on the coffee table in front of you and settles down beside you, the warmth of his shoulder brushing against yours. there’s a gentle smile on his face as he hands you one of the plates. “figured this might cheer my favorite girl up,” he says softly. there’s warmth in his eyes, a quiet, tender look that tells you he knows exactly what you need tonight.

taking the plate, you feel a deep sense of gratitude welling up. “thank you, baby,” you whisper, your voice soft, touched by everything he’s done for you without needing words to explain. you both begin to eat, the comforting flavors of your favorite meal and the cozy blanket wrapped around you adding to the sense of warmth that fills the room.

geto’s eyes dart to you every now and then as you eat, studying your expression, trying to gauge your mood. he keeps his voice soft, the volume just above a whisper, as if he's afraid of disrupting the comforting atmosphere between you.

“how are you feeling?” he asks gently, keeping his gaze on your face, waiting for your response. he continues eating, but his attention remains on you, his eyes never leaving yours, the concern in them apparent but not suffocating.

you pause, spoon halfway to your mouth, as geto's question registers in your mind. the softness in his voice, the way his gaze never wavers from your face, makes you feel a warmth that’s almost overwhelming. taking a small spoonful of your food, you savor the familiar taste, letting it bring a quiet calm over you before meeting his eyes.

turning away from the television, you nod and offer him a little smile, one that speaks volumes more than words could. “i feel a lot better now,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. “thanks to you.”

geto’s features soften, a small, gentle smile spreading across his face in response to your words. he sets down his fork for a moment, pausing his meal to reach out, his hand gently resting on your knee, giving it a small, encouraging squeeze.

“good,” he murmurs, the word simple, yet filled with relief. he looks at you, the concern in his eyes replaced with a warm, affectionate glow. he keeps his hand on your knee, his thumb gently caressing your skin in small, soothing motions.

he picks up his fork again, continuing to eat while still maintaining his grip on your knee, his fingers gently massaging it through the fabric of your clothes. it’s a small, subtle gesture meant to provide comfort, as if he wants to maintain the physical connection with you even as you're both eating.

“i’ll admit, i was pretty worried about you earlier,” he admits gently, his voice soft and quiet, as if he's hesitant to disturb the peaceful atmosphere between you both.

a small, sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you glance down at his hand on your knee, feeling the warmth of his fingers gently massaging in a comforting rhythm. his touch feels grounding, like he’s trying to keep you tethered to him in the softest way possible.

you look back up at him, letting out a quiet chuckle. “i got pretty dramatic, didn’t i?” you say, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone but softened by the warmth in your eyes. your fingers absentmindedly brush over his hand on your knee, grateful for his steady presence. “it’s just been one of those weeks… everything felt so heavy.” your voice trails off, but there’s relief in your words. “but… honestly, i feel a lot better now. crying it out helped, i think.”

geto listens to your words, his gaze never wavering from your face as you speak. his expression is soft, understanding, a warm comfort in itself. as you mention how crying helped, he gives your knee another small, gentle squeeze.

“there’s nothing wrong with letting it out,” he says gently, a subtle nod of agreement. he sets his fork down and shifts a bit closer to you, his hand on your knee slowly moving further up to rest on your thigh, his thumb still gently massaging your skin.

he looks straight into your eyes, his gaze intense but not overwhelming. “i’m always here, you know that, right?” he whispers, his words an earnest assurance. “you don’t have to hold it all in by yourself.”

he gently pushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender, filled with care. he keeps his hand on your thigh, the pressure firm, warm, a promise of steadiness.

you nod softly, setting your plate down on the table as you turn your full attention to him. scooting closer, you place your hand over his chest, feeling the steady, calming rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. there’s something so grounding about that gentle pulse, a reminder of his unwavering presence.

“i know,” you say quietly, your voice carrying a weight of gratitude that words alone can’t express. “and i’m so, so grateful for that.” you let your fingers spread slightly, feeling the warmth radiating from his chest, as if it’s wrapping around you too. looking up at him, you can see that he means every word, his gaze so genuine and reassuring, a quiet promise that he’ll always be there to help carry the weight when you need it.

see as you move closer, geto responds by shifting his position, opening his arms to pull you flush against him. he wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you in so your side is pressed against his chest, a warm, solid presence that grounds you. his hand returns to your thigh, continuing its gentle massaging motions, the touch filled with a tenderness that speaks louder than words ever could.

he lowers his head so his chin rests against the top of your head, his eyes drifting half-closed as he holds you close, his heart beating steady and strong beneath your touch.

you rest against him, feeling his arms wrap around you with such warmth, you let your hand drift up, fingers splaying over his chest as you quietly murmur, “i missed you.” your voice is soft, a little shaky, but it’s filled with the depth of everything you’ve been holding in.

for a moment, you just stay there, listening to his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, feeling his hand on your thigh, his chin resting atop your head. it feels like home, like an anchor, and it makes you realize just how much you’ve missed being fully present with him. he’s always been close, physically there whenever you needed, but you were lost in your own thoughts and emotions, feeling distant even when he was near.

geto’s hold on you tightens ever so slightly as you speak, his arm around your waist pulling you in closer, drawing you as close as humanly possible. he nuzzles his face into your hair, his breath warm against your head.

“i missed you too,” he whispers against your head, his voice low, barely above a murmur. there’s a subtle hoarseness to it, an undertone of emotion that belies the depth of his own longing. he holds you like this for a few more moments, silently taking in the feeling of having you in his arms once again.

his hand on your thigh slowly moves back down, his fingers lightly tracing patterns onto your skin, a gentle, soothing gesture.

he shifts his head, pulling away just enough so he can look down at your face. his expression is filled with a tender affection, the kind that comes from knowing someone on a deep, intimate level.

“i know things get heavy, but we’ll get through it together, okay?” he whispers, his voice filled with unwavering determination. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch as soft as a feather.

you nod softly, feeling a warmth swell in your chest at his words, the reassurance in his tone anchoring you more than he could ever know. with a quiet, “okay,” you lift your hand, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb gently brushing along his skin. you can feel the faint stubble under your fingertips, grounding you in this tender moment, in the closeness you’ve both been missing.

with a gentle pull, you guide him closer, closing the small distance between you until his lips meet yours. the kiss is soft, slow, filled with unspoken words and quiet promises. it feels like both a reassurance and a reconnection, his lips warm and comforting against yours, the world around you fading away as you focus solely on him.

geto responds to the kiss instantly, his hand on your thigh moving to cup the back of your head, pulling you in closer. he kisses you back just as gently, his lips moving against yours in a slow, tender dance. there’s a quiet need in the kiss, a silent plea for you to understand the depth of his feelings, how much he’s missed this connection.

as the kiss deepens, geto pulls you fully into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. he continues to hold you tightly, almost possessively, like he doesn’t ever want to let go.

he finally pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss but keeping his forehead resting against yours. his breathing is ragged, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment, his hand slowly caressing the back of your head as he tries to regain some control over his emotions.

“god... i’ve missed you so much,” he whispers, his voice filled with a raw honesty. he pulls you even closer into his lap, pressing his face into your neck, his warm breath against your skin.

your arms instinctively wrap around his broad shoulders, holding him as close as possible, like you’re afraid he might slip away. a soft whisper escapes your lips, “i’ve missed you too, baby,” the words laced with all the emotions you’ve been holding in, each one released as you hold him tighter.

you feel his warmth seep into you as he presses his face into your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin, grounding you, anchoring you in this moment. your fingers gently trace over his back, feeling the tension slowly ease out of him, a silent promise that you’re here too, that you won’t let go.

geto seems to melt into your touch, his body relaxing as your fingers trace over his back. he lets out a low, soft groan, the sound vibrating against your neck, his hands slowly moving down to grip your hips, pulling you even closer.

he pulls back just enough so that he can look at you, a mixture of vulnerability and affection in his eyes. “don’t ever shut me out like that again, okay?” he whispers, his thumb gently caressing your hip. “promise me you’ll talk to me, no matter how shitty things get.”

you nod, a soft smile curving your lips as you meet his gaze. “i promise,” you murmur, your voice filled with sincerity. there’s a warmth in his eyes that melts away any lingering shadows in your mind, and it feels like a weight has finally lifted, a silent understanding passing between you both.

your hand drifts to the back of his neck, fingers pressing gently into his skin, feeling the warmth there as you trail small, soothing circles. you let your fingertips sink slightly, grounding both of you in the closeness of the moment, letting him feel just how much he means to you.

his eyes close for a brief moment as he leans into your touch, his breath coming out in a soft sigh. he pulls you even closer, his grip on your hips secure, as if he never wants to let you go. “good,” he whispers, his voice a bit rough but filled with quiet relief. “because i can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

geto takes a shaky breath, his arms tightening around you involuntarily as he speaks again.

“you’re everything to me,” he murmurs into your neck, his voice low and hoarse. he buries his face into your skin, taking a deep breath, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, the scent of you.

he stays there for a moment, holding you tightly, his embrace both protective and gentle at the same time. with each passing second, you can feel the tension slowly seeping out of him, replaced by a quiet, intimate comfort.

your fingers tighten slightly against the back of his neck as you whisper, “you’re my everything too.” your voice is barely a breath, but it’s filled with all the warmth and affection you have for him.

closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into the moment as his lips brush softly against your neck, each kiss tender and unhurried, as though he’s savoring every inch of you. his warmth spreads through you, soothing, grounding, making you feel safe in a way only he can.

you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head slightly to give him more access, a quiet invitation for him to stay close. your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding him as if you’ll never let go, and with every gentle press of his lips against your skin, it’s like he’s telling you without words that he’s here, he’s yours, and he’s not going anywhere.

as you tilt your head, giving him more access to your neck, a soft, guttural noise escapes geto’s lips. he takes your cue, gently nuzzling against your skin, his breath warm and ticklish against the sensitive spots.

he continues to shower your neck and shoulder in soft kisses, his lips leaving a trail of warmth everywhere they touch. his arms remain tightly wrapped around you, holding you against him, a steady, anchoring presence. you can almost feel the depth of his desire and devotion in each gentle kiss, his actions speaking louder than words.

he slowly pulls away from your neck, lifting his head to look at you again, his gaze heavy with emotion. his arms loosen slightly, his hand slowly tracing up and down your back in a gentle caress.

he takes a moment to just look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of warmth and raw desperation. he runs his tongue over his lips, a subconscious gesture that betrays his own desire.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough and hoarse. “my god, you’re sooo beautiful.”

a soft hum escapes your lips, and you smile up at him, warmth blooming in your chest at the look in his eyes. his words wrap around you like a gentle embrace, and you feel yourself falling deeper into the love and devotion reflected in his gaze.

without saying a word, you lean in, closing the distance between you until your lips meet his in a tender, lingering kiss. it’s gentle at first, a simple press of your lips against his, savoring the closeness, the intimacy of the moment. but as the kiss deepens, you can feel the raw emotion flowing between you—his need to be close, to remind you just how much he loves you.

your hand moves to cup his cheek, thumb brushing softly against his skin as you pour every ounce of affection, trust, and love into the kiss, letting him know that he’s your everything, too.

geto responds to the gesture instantly, a soft, almost guttural sound escaping his lips as your kiss deepens. he returns the gesture with fervor, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin.

he matches every movement, every touch, as if he’s pouring all his pent up emotions into the kiss. it’s a silent communication, an intimate exchange that speaks volumes. he kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, languid dance.

as the kiss continues, geto’s grip on your hips tightens even more, his touch almost possessive, but not in a controlling way. it’s like he’s afraid that if he lets go, you’ll slip away from him again.

he moves his mouth over to your jawline, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin there while he gently pulls you impossibly closer against him. his breath is shaky, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him. he’s holding you like he never wants to let go.

geto is practically panting against your skin as he continues to kiss and nuzzle your neck, his breath hot and heavy, his lips leaving a trail of wet, feverish kisses. his grip on your hips is firm, his fingers digging into your flesh, as if he’s trying to anchor himself against the raw tide of emotions coursing through him.

“god,” he mutters hoarsely, his voice edged with a hint of desperation, “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this... missed you.”

his lips continue to trace over your jawline, trailing up to your ear, kissing and nipping at the sensitive spots. his touch is urgent, almost needy, his movements driven by a raw, aching desire.

“i need you,” he whispers into your ear, his voice gruff and low. “i need to feel you, taste you, touch you... i need you to know how much i love you.”

a small gasp escapes your lips as geto suddenly rises, lifting you effortlessly with him. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist, your arms slipping around his neck, holding him close as he carries you toward the bedroom. is strength and the intensity in his gaze send a thrill through you, and you feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest as he holds you so securely, as though he’d never let you go.

you lean closer, brushing your lips near his ear, whispering, “me too, baby.” the words come out breathless, laced with all the longing and affection you feel for him. geto’s hold tightens at your response, a quiet hum of satisfaction escaping him as he carries you down the hallway, his steps steady but quick, his desire evident in every movement.

geto enters the bedroom, his movements sure and steady, like he has a single-minded focus on getting to the bed as quickly as possible.

he sets you down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands coming up to cup your face, his fingers gently caressing your skin. he looks down at you intently, his eyes filled with a mixture of reverence and desire.

“i need to feel you,” he repeats, his voice gravelly and intense. his hands slide down to your shoulders, slowly pushing you back onto the bed, his body following, his weight settling over you.

geto’s hands are everywhere as he strips your shirt off, his touch urgent and impatient, but laced with a tender reverence.

his hands roam over your now bare skin, tracing along the curves and lines of your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch. his fingers graze over your waist, your ribcage, your shoulders, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. he leans down, his lips replacing his hands, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along the exposed skin of your chest and neck.

he moves his lips back to your neck, his teeth nipping gently at the sensitive spots, as if he’s trying to draw out every gasps and moans from you. his hands continue to wander, tracing over your sides, your hips, your thighs, the movements firm and possessive, as if he can’t bear to be away from you for even a second.

he pulls back slightly, hovering over you, his gaze intense, his breath ragged. he looks down at you, his eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and unbridled love.

“i love you so fucking much.”

[switchscene]

I absolutely agree with this post for the most part. Keeping books in circulation is a good thing, and keeping them available for people is also a good thing. Utilizing a library means it can justify funding and libraries offer a whole host of other services beyond book borrowing. These are objectively good, and need to be kept open, especially on account of libraries being one of the most accessible third spaces to exist.

But if we're saying "we're not trying to make sure individual people can read individual books," then genuinely what does it matter if they're specifically banned or controversial books? What is the purpose in keeping an individual book in circulation if not for individual people to read it? I think piracy is absolutely a solution that goes hand in hand with this, because as far as I can tell it's the content in the book that needs to be kept available, not the three copies of X book in Y library system as a physical item, unless we are just attempting to preserve items, which seems awfully materialistic when I'll gladly print you a copy of a book and mail it to you.

I'm already seeing advice from people in the US to purchase queer books and other banned or "controversial" books on paper as a way to combat the wave of government censorship that is coming. While this is a good idea (it is! absolutely!), it's not accessible to everyone, and truly, we're not going to be able to consumerism our way out of this one.

If you can buy the books, do. Whether you can buy the books or not, borrow them from your library.

Borrow the paper versions. Borrow the ebook or audiobook versions. Request the titles you want that your library doesn't have. The more a title circulates or is requested, the better librarians are going to be able to defend keeping it if and when it's ever challenged.

Use libraries like @queerliblib too. The more members they have, the better they'll be able to fundraise.

Your community resources depend on you using them. Borrow the books before they go away.

InB4: Piracy is not the solution here. We're trying to keep community resources available, not make sure individual people can read individual books. Different problems.

The books are still available. Borrowing them from your library and returning them on time and in good condition will help keep them that way.

[tetedurfarm]

get started in meat rabbits masterpost!

yesterday i accidentally hijacked a friend's post and got way more engagement than i expected, which is both amazing and exhausting. so today i present to you: a big post full of resources and answers to the most common questions i've been getting! please refer to this now before dming me with questions <3

information below the cut!

why rabbits?

because they're one of (and in my opinion, THE,) best small-scale meat animal out there. they are relatively small, extremely quiet, can live in cages and therefore do not take up much space, and have a higher feed conversion rate (meaning they make more meat per lb of feed) than chickens, and their poop is AMAZING for gardening! in the footprint of a washer and dryer you can have a trio of breeding animals and space for growing out their litters if you use stacking cages. you just can't beat that.

what do they taste like?

like chicken or turkey. domestic rabbit meat is a very mild, white meat, and can be substituted for chicken in almost every meal. most of my rabbit i grind into mince and use it in place of ground beef. my rabbits, at least, get enough fat to make it unnecessary to cut the mince with pork or beef fat, so even the burgers are really juicy!

how much do they cost?

this depends heavily on where you live, though imo they have a fairly low upfront cost relative to other livestock. your biggest upfront expensive will be cages, though you can find good deals on cages and other equipment at livestock auctions/swaps and craiglist/kijiji/similar. the rabbits themselves can be anywhere from free to $100+, though i personally would not pay more than $30-$35 USD for a meat animal (but again, your average prices may vary.) after that, it's all in the price of feed.

feed costs vary from area to area and brand to brand - generally a locally milled feed will be a bit more cost-effective but they can also be lower quality so do your research. depending on your area, you can also feed rabbits partially or even completely on forage or pasture, just make sure you keep an eye on your parasite loads and weights to ensure they are eating enough.

this is a good site that discusses rabbit safe forage: https://riseandshinerabbitry.com/2012/02/26/safe-food-list-for-rabbits/

and this is a good site discussing hay: https://hoppyharlequinsrabbitry.weebly.com/hay-chart.html

this page is focused on other larger livestock but is a decent basic rundown on reading a feed lablel: https://s3.wp.wsu.edu/uploads/sites/2070/2023/03/FS138E_Reading-a-Feed-Tag.pdf

and a basic overview of rabbit nutrition: https://www.merckvetmanual.com/exotic-and-laboratory-animals/rabbits/nutrition-of-rabbits#Pelleted-Diets_v54343534

i do not personally believe that feeding hay is necessary for rabbits to be healthy, which is contrary to what most of you may have heard from online sources. we'll talk about that in a minute. all commercially-available pelleted rabbit feets are made with hay, and the 'long-stem' thing you read about is based on studies in ruminant animals that DO need a 'grass mat' to digest properly...but rabbits are not ruminants. they chew up their hay into fine dust, which is basically what pellets are anyway.

what other equipment do i need?

obviously, your first step should be cages. i prefer cages that are either 24x24 or 30x30 inches depending on the size of the rabbit. you generally want a cage big enough for the animal to lay flat on its belly with its legs out and not touch at least one of the sides (i prefer them to be able to touch none,) and tall enough that they can sit up comfortably. i like to err on the side of larger for breeding does, since their nestbox will take up floor space for a few weeks, and the kits need room to run around and grow before they are weaned. weaned kits need a larger cage or hutch to grow out in until they are eating size.

these cages can be wire bottomed or solid bottomed, just be aware of the hygiene differences between these styles of cages. wire cages are not evil, and will not harm a rabbit's feet provided it has proper density of fur. you can avoid foot problems by buying and breeding rabbits with well-furred feet.

other necessary equipment includes: feeders (j-feefers or pro-b feeders are my favourites), some way to provide water such as bottles, crocks, or an automatic watering system, a hay rack if you want to provide hay, grooming tools such as combs and brushes (if applicable; most rabbits will not need much grooming,) nail clippers, a first-aid kit containing things such as scissors, vet wrap, antibiotic gels and drops, saline solution, fenbendazole (brand name panacur, a dewormer,) gas medications such as simethicone/gas-x, critical care (a specially formulated powdered feed that you can mix into a gruel and syringe feed rabbits that won't eat on their own,) probiotic powder, electrolyte powder, and of course, toys!

make sure any provided toys are edible (so avoid plastic,) and will not get turned into mush and cause dirty mats in the cage when peed on. toilet paper and paper towel tubes are great, as are just chunks of untreated lumber offcuts, wooden baby blocks, or soda boxes. if you have some splurging money, bird toy websites like abirdtoy.com have amazing selections of things that rabbits love destroying. i recommend the refillable skewers!

what about vet care?

this is a fairly divisive topic. most vets do not know much about rabbits, and those that do are typically operating on outdated or simply untrue information that aligns with animal rights groups. therefore, a lot of meat and show breeders do not trust or use vets unless the situations are dire or there is disease testing to be done, and then generally we'll go to our state's ag exstension or college lab. i don't want to come off as anti-vet, i am far from it. but i and most people i know have not had good experiences with vets treating rabbits.

in general, exotic animal vet care (and yes, rabbits are considered exotic pets,) is extremely cost-prohibitive in general, much less when you have multiple animals. like most farmers, rabbit breeders typically handle basic medical situations ourselves.

medirabbit is a great resource for rabbit medical information including illnesses and medication dosages: https://www.medirabbit.com/

how many rabbits do i need?

the average litter size is between 5 and 8 kits, and rabbits can breed montly (though i recommend giving the girls breaks between litters depending on how they kept condition.) a trio of one buck and two does can produce a very good amount of meat for a one or two person household. my spouse and i lived on five or six litters a year for a very long time, using rabbit as our primary meat source!

do they need friends?

no. despite what house rabbit circles tell you, rabbits do NOT need companions and in fact having cagemates can stress them out unnecessarily. rabbits live in warrens in the wild, yes, but that is a survival tactic and the warrens are usually very violent and only work because they can run away when they need to. in capitivity, rabbits that are cohabitated can and commonly will KILL one another. it is much safer and less stressful to keep rabbits in their own spaces. i promise they won't mind.

rabbit colonies, where they are raised together in more 'natural' systems, are becoming very popular with homesteading circles but you should not jump into colonies as your first way to keep rabbits. they require just as much if not even more time and effort to manage than your typical cage setup. plus, you have to have the space to do that, which not everyone has.

can you help me find rabbits?

maybe! if you live in the united states and are comfortable sharing your local craigslist, i can take a look and link you to any rabbits or equipment i think would be worth your time. if you are local to me in western washington's i-5 corridor counties, i may have rabbits i can sell you for the price of feed and gas, but that depends on availability. if you are on the olympic peninsula in kitsam, jefferson, or clallam counties, hit up my buddy ren @buttonbuckfarm for similar services.

arent't they really fragile?

yes and no. rabbits are prey animals with an extremely specialised digestive system. if you are familiar with horses...same deal. if a rabbit stops eating, it will die, and they love bloating/colicking just like horses. there are also a few diseases that are common in rabbits that you should keep an eye out for, especially if you pasture or forage raise.

that being said, rabbits are not made of glass. you can flip them, you can poke them, prod them, put them in a car, drive them across the country, and squish them into weird shapes on a show table. as long as you take precautions during stressful situations and desensitise them to things like handling and transport early, they're shockingly physically hardy despite their sensitive guts.

i'm scared to kill them...what if i mess up?

it's perfectly understandable to fear the end of the process of raising rabbits. and accidents do happen. slaughter is a skill that must be practiced, and maybe you can take solace in knowing that we have all messed one up at some point or another. when this happens, the only thing you can do is try again as quickly as you can until you can confirm the animal is dead. and then take a minute to decompress.

it comes easy to me, but i know that is not true for everyone. but i am a firm believer that if you are going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and how it gets to your plate. the best thing we can do for our food is to give it a wonderful life, kill as kindly as we can, and use as much of it as we are able.

here is the AVMA's list of approved humane slaughter methods: https://www.avma.org/sites/default/files/2020-02/Guidelines-on-Euthanasia-2020.pdf

and you can find pretty good videos of the various methods demonstrated on rabbits specifically on youtube:

broomstick, choke chain, bunny ballista, hopper popper

please be aware that the above videos show animals being killed. though if you are reading this i imagine you are prepared to see that.

how do i process them once they're dead?

this is another one you can find pretty good videos of online. visiting a local rabbit show may get you in contact with someone willing to teach you in person, as well!

i am working on a big project website that is basically all i think you should know about raising rabbits, which will include detailed slaughter, skinning, and butchering videos, though as of now these are not available. i plan to have this project at least usably done by the end of the year!

ok so what's the thing with pet owners vs breeders

you may have noticed that i've been doing some 'as you may have heard' debunking in this post. that's because there is a very huge divide between the beliefs and practices of pet rabbit owners versus show and meat breeders and owners. why? well, that's complicated, but the big bad evil guy that is the first place to point at is the House Rabbit Society, or HRS.

the house rabbit society is basically rabbit PETA. i am not joking. here is a big masterpost on all their bullshittery: https://www.tumblr.com/o-i-have-too/185596917579/a-masterpost-of-house-rabbit-society-bullshit

i know this comes off as me having an agenda, and i guess i can't say that i don't, but i believe that the HRS' rules and rhetoric are not just wrong they are actively dangerous to follow. i have owned rabbits for nearly a decade and have produced more somewhere in the 1,500 range of animals in that time. i have owned a LOT of rabbits and have experienced all the different ways they can thrive and die and have done a lot of experimenting to find what works. just about everything the HRS says about caring for rabbits is blatantly false according to my experience. proper wire cage floors do not destroy feet. rabbits do not need hay if they eat a good pelleted diet. pellets are not evil or 'fattening' or the main cause of stasis. rabbits do not need leafy greens or veggies. rabbits do not need to be bonded. they are perfectly happy living alone, in cages. flipping a rabbit is not torture and is in fact sometimes necessary for many reasons. meat and show breeders are generally not contributing to the 'overpopulation' problem - if we don't want an animal most of us just eat them. breeding for meat is not evil if it's done appropriately and they are killed humanely.

unfortunately the HRS won the google SEO game and so their website and the sites of others that believe their rhetoric are the only thing that comes up on the first pages of search results. i'm not saying you have to blindly trust me, but i have the experience, and the combined experience of many of my peers both online and offline, that says that basically everything they believe in and preach is just...not true.

anyway that's it, hope this answers most of your questions! i may add to this in the future depending on what other questions i may get. stay tuned for updates on my website project and in general more farm content, rabbit and otherwise :)

[daycourtofficial]

It’s just to satiate the bond

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 2.3k | warnings: smut, piv, oral (f!receiving)

Summary: an agreement to have sex just to satiate a mating bond neither party wants is a great idea. Surely no one will get hurt, right?

Author’s note: this is part of my gingerfucker series but can be read by itself 😌

Her teeth were grinding as she walked down the hallway, her steps getting faster, trying to put as much distance from her and the large meeting room. She had to get away, she had to hide. She moved further away from the gathering of High Lords, pushing her instincts down, down, down as she went.

It was ridiculous how her body was reacting to just being in his presence, being so close to her mate. She shook her head, angrily trying to dispel that word from it.

Her ears twitched at the sound of quick steps behind her, nearly catching up to her. She quickened her pace, almost breaking out into a run, but the male that had followed her was quick to push her into an open door, shutting it behind them.

“What the fuck, Eris? Let me out of here.”

Eris stood blocking the door, not letting her move past him. Her arms reached for the knob before quickly being swatted away.

“No.”

“What is wrong with you?” She huffed out the question, not expecting much of a reply.

“Me? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m mated to an asshole.” Being so close to him was making her head spin, his scent of whiskey and smoke made her heart rate pick up.

His amber eyes danced with amusement. “Surely you understand mates are equals, so whatever I am, so are you.”

“You are a child.”

“You are the one who ran away.”

“To get away from you!”

“How did that work out for you, princess?”

He was grating on her, annoyance causing her teeth to grind again. She tried taking in a deep breath, hoping it would calm her nerves.

“It’d work better if you weren’t keeping me in here.” Her voice attempted to make the words sweet, missing the mark they came out with too much bite.

“I have a proposition.” It was difficult being this close to him. She picked up nearly every detail about him in this proximity: the freckles that trailed beneath the color of his shirt, wondering if they continued further down. The faint scent of what must be his hounds that clung to him. The necklaces that hung from his neck, draping over ornate fabrics she wanted to run her fingers over.

“We are both less than thrilled at this mating, however I am sure you are having urges that can’t be satisfied by anyone else or yourself.” His words pulled her from the visual inspection, looking up at him to find her distraction didn’t go unnoticed.

She moved her hands across her chest, fingers tapping her elbows. She didn’t want to admit how right he was - even the sight of other males made her want to gag. Nothing and no one had satiated the intense need that thrummed inside of her since it made itself known to her.

She nodded at him to continue, but he merely stared at her. Exasperated, she finally asked, “how do you suggest we go about fixing that?”

“We need to convince our bond we are happy.”

Our bond. The words struck something primal in her, some deep desire she had to be with him.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t think I can’t feel you in my chest in the middle of the night.”

“And what of it? Do the males of Autumn not want their females to know sexual desire? Rather it be unpleasant for her?”

Eris growled, the sound shooting heat through her.

“I can do more with my tongue than any male in the Night Court can do with their cocks.”

His scent was suffocating, the air around her coated with him. It was surely making her delirious, surely the only reason she heard herself saying, “prove it”.

Those two words, spoken an exhale, was all it took for the Autumn heir to move quickly.

He buried his face in her chest, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin of the tops of her breasts. A soft moan escaped from her mouth, his face tilting just enough for his amber eyes to show. He looked like a true predator as starving, wolfish eyes looked back at her.

He lifted her, grabbing the backs of her thighs to hoist her around his hips before she felt the wall hit her back. There was no time to object as he stuffed two of his fingers into her mouth.

“Hush now, Princess. Would hate for your moans to expose us.” Heat pooled in her stomach at his smirk.

Eris didn’t let himself think about what he was doing as he undid the ties on his pants. He didn’t think as he slid her panties to the side, sliding his fingers through her wet folds. He bit back the groan that was making its way up his throat at how wet she was. He didn’t think as he lined his cock up to her entrance, something inside him desperate to keep her gaze on him as he did so.

He watched her violet eyes widen as he sheathed himself inside of her, nearly coming undone himself at how perfect she felt around him.

He wouldn’t think about his previous sexual encounters, never caring about who he was with. Sex was transactional, a means to an end. This was to satiate the godsdamned bond thrumming between the two of them.

He would never admit to her he had taken all his previous lovers from behind, never caring to watch them. Never admit to the stirring his cock felt watching her eyes close, swallowing her moans.

Eris felt himself getting close to that high, felt it creeping through his body as his thrusts got sloppier.

He had to take control, couldn’t allow this weakness. His fingers held her jaw tightly. , examining her eyes with each thrust.

“I hate you,” she gritted out, teeth grinding.

He thrusted hard into her, his gaze seering as he watched her eyes roll back.

“You hate me so, and yet you buck like a common whore for my prick.” His hair was falling into his face, his punishing pace making it harder to concentrate.

“Do you ever stop talking? You’d be much more likable if you did.” Her voice was high and breathy, something inside him knowing just how close she was. Their mixed arousal was pinging throughout his chest, a sensation he had never felt before.

“You weren’t worried about likability when you started dripping on my cock.”

“Fuck you.” Her eyes were closed, searching for every ounce of pleasure he was giving her.

“Aren’t you already?” Hushed words were sending both of them closer to that edge, each desperate to land just one more barb. The arrogance in Eris’s tone sent her spiraling, pleasure ripping through her in uncontrollable waves.

Eris was furiously pumping into her as she milked his cock, her high cresting as he met his own. Between their shared orgasm, there was a split second their eyes met. The vulnerability of what they just did passed through the glance, and then it was gone, locked away deep in both their souls.

Eris’s head met her shoulder, struggling to catch his breath.

“Winded there, Lord?”

He growled at the question, his fingers quickly gripping tight to her before immediately letting go. He pulled back from her, the loss of contact making his chest go heavy. His fingers quickly redid the ties of his pants, a hand moving through his long hair.

The only sound was their labored breaths, filling the room with the knowledge that they could not go back. A fact neither of them would accept.

She moved her skirts back down, desperate to cover that seed that ran down her inner thighs.

Eris moved to the door, his back to her enough for him to bring his fingers to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the remnants of her arousal on it.

-

“It’s just to satiate the bond.” The lie fell from her lips, something she had been telling herself over and over again over the past few weeks since that first time with Eris.

“Do you like how the bond makes you hot for me?”

The pain from the tree against her face was nothing compared to how good each of his thrusts felt.

Her fingers dug into the tree, desperate for some bit of reality to cling to. It felt absurd how common this occurrence was - meeting almost weekly now just to keep the bond inside from exploding.

It was ridiculous how many nights she spent in her bed, her fingers not enough to satisfy her as her mind drifted to the male behind her.

“Better than being eternally sad over you.”

A chuckle came from him before he thrusted deep inside her, his fingers a tight grip over her hips she was sure was going to bruise.

“How would Rhysand react to finding out his precious sister has been reduced to little more than a common whore?”

“Don’t tell me you have to think of my brother in order to get off, hmm?”

His pace was punishing at her words, their back and forths doing more to him than he wished to admit.

Long fingers wrapped around her neck, tilting her head back just enough for her to see his amber eyes full of lust. She couldn’t stop the moan coming from her mouth at the intensity of his gaze, how just the sight of his eyes and one swift thrust of his hips sent her toppling over the edge of pleasure.

His pace quickened, his thrusts working her through her orgasm until he pulled her as close as possible, emptying himself inside of her.

Eris kept looking at her, his gaze focused as she tried to catch her breath. With more effort than he anticipated, he pulled his hands away from her, helping her straighten herself off the tree.

He moved her skirts, helping her straighten them out. His hand met her waist, an almost tender touch before he quickly pulled it away.

“Next time don’t make any plans afterward. You reek of sex and have the markings to prove it.” His fingers pointed at his own face, showing a line where the bark had made indentions into her skin.

He waited, not saying anything, only nodding at her before winnowing away, leaving her stranded in the woods, confused and alone.

-

“I just need a taste.”

Eris Vanserra was kneeling on the ground before her, his body disappearing beneath her skirts. He was not gentle as he grabbed her leg, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Er-oh.” Protestations die on her tongue as his mouth latched onto her cunt, his tongue pressing against the cloth of her underwear.

Her strained ears could barely make out his grumbling about “coming unprepared”, his voice muffled as his tongue made long, sweeping strokes through her folds.

He was pressing his weight into her, the only thing keeping her upright against the tree as he held her in place. The woods were echoing with the obscene sounds from underneath her skirt, but she could not care less.

Suddenly Eris grabbed her other leg, leaving her hoisted against the tree, his neck her only support.

She couldn’t hold in the obscene noises coming from her mouth. One of Eris’s hands let go of her thighs and she could hear him fiddling with the ties of his pants.

“Eris, you filthy thing. Are you touching yourself while you eat me out?”

A growl was all her retort was met with, a bite to her clit making her practically climb up the tree.

He was moaning into her, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her.

A biting quip was on the tip of her tongue, replaced by a moan as Eris’s fingers pushed the cloth to the side, rubbing his nose through her folds. His usual sharp tongue laid flat as he licked a long stripe across her heat. She shuddered at the sensation, trying to hold off her orgasm for as long as possible. The bond inside her was thrumming, bursting with joy at being pleasured by her mate.

Her hips were desperate as they rode across his face, thighs squeezing his head to keep him in place.

The sound of Eris pumping his cock into his hand was pushing her past her limits, their weekly rendezvous leading her to know exactly how it felt in her chest when he came.

Her high was quickly squashed as he pulled away from her, causing her to fall unceremoniously onto the ground. She let out a soft gasp, both pain and surprise unable to be contained.

“What are you-“ She looked up, chastisement at the ready, only to find her mate gone, nowhere to be found. She stood on shaky legs, using the tree as a support, not wanting to admit the disappointment that followed her as she left.

-

The ground was wet beneath her skirts, the tree biting into her back as she waited. The air was cold and uninviting, as if no one should be out in it without a coat or a lover’s embrace. She tried to ignore the heaviness in her chest, telling herself, “it’s fine.”

She waited. Minutes quickly turned into an hour, the moon high in the clearing above. Goosebumps ran up and down her arms at the late hour. The bond hummed lightly in her chest, nerves too strong to find out the consequences of pulling it.

Were these daliances getting to her, meaning much more than they should? He was supposed to arrive hours ago. He had never left her waiting this long.

Worry consumed her, but the everpresent bond assured her that he was out there somewhere, fine with the distance that lay between them.

She had never waited this long for a male to show up to a date before. She stopped that line of thinking quickly, shutting it down. Reminding herself this is not a date.

She sighed, rejection and embarrassment coming off her in waves. Her chest felt hollow as she looked about the clearing one last time, desperate for any sign she missed him before winnowing far, far away.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Gingerfucker taglist: @bookwormysblog

Thanks for reading ❣️

[crescenthistory]

did i hear you say you were writing another animagus!reader x regulus where they cuddle at hogwarts in each their cat forms? 🥺🥺

you know what they say, don't believe everything you hear... except for that, that's actually true

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, copious amounts of fluff, established relationship, bsf!remus, background wolfstar, reader and reg are kinda goody-two-shoes, platonic physical affection

Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat

What a conundrum.

Remus should take this as an opportunity to be a good friend. You have spent almost two decades showing him exactly how to do that, playing the perfect part of the sister-he-never-had, loving and supporting him through life. For never turning your back on him, Remus is sure he owes you far more than what he can ever repay you, so he should try every single day. He should be a good friend.

But it was just too funny not to.

"At what point is it our duty to wake them up?" Sirius' voice whispered in his ear, shaking with mirth.

"I'm wondering the exact same thing." Remus dragged his words out to avoid making a decision. "How long do you think we can get away with?"

"I mean, they are already 15 minutes late to their Charms lesson, so we're dead men walking for not having said anything so far."

Remus is just able to tear his eyes away from you to glance sideways at Sirius, a too-fond smile already playing over his lips as he sees the exact mischievous look on his boyfriend's face that he expected. The look he fell in love with, not that Remus would be sappy enough to think about that right now. "So what you're saying is..."

"Leave it for a while longer?" Sirius grinned.

"Leave it for a while longer." Remus confirmed, whispering through a laugh, shifting his body further into Sirius' side as he lets his eyes fall back on you.

Well. On what he and Sirius knew to be you and Regulus, but what all other students in the library thought was just two cats sleeping in an armchair.

There was an elongated square of sunlight cast onto the middle of the seat by one of the beautifully decorated windows of the ancient castle, every cat's dream spot. The green velvet covering the seat of the mahogany chair was already riddled with fur from how long the two of you had been curled up around each other in it, white, grey and black hairs mixing together. Your forms might as well be mixing together too, fluid in a way that defied physics yet looked impossibly comfortable. Remus supposed you had to milk as much pleasure out of being an animagus as possible to make that whole mandrake leaf ordeal worth it. Though you could not answer even if he asked you right now, he was sure you at this very moment thought it was.

Remus' smile widened as he saw your chest rise dramatically as you breathed a sleepy huff, turning your head over slightly and burrowing it further into Regulus' plush neck. Your little cat bodies laid facing each other, arms around each other in a way he thought looked a little too much like a human hug.

It would be the absolute picture of serenity, two young things with no care in the world but each other – had it not been for the large clock ironically hanging right behind you, reminding you that you were not supposed to be here right now.

The four of you – five before James ran off the second he spotted red hair a few shelves back – had spent your two hours of shared free periods to read up together, for once actually doing a considerable amount of studying during it. Sirius was rubbing it in your faces, yours by consequence and Regulus' by design, that you still had one lesson left for the day when you abruptly stood up and demanded that you need a study break. When you then promptly dragged Regulus off into a corner, Sirius got the karma of a lifetime as he grew very concerned about what kind of break you would be engaging in. That was until the two cats lazily strolled back in and made themselves comfortable in the chair they now claimed as theirs.

Knowing you, Remus knew you hadn't intended on falling asleep, but maybe the fact that you did meant you really needed it. Yes, surely, you must have been exhausted and your body demanded a rest, so frankly he is quite an amazing friend for ensuring you listen to your health and your needs.

"Cats shouldn't be allowed to be that cute," Sirius all but grumbled as he looked at the two of them. "I should hate them on principle, but look at them Moony!"

"Quite literally no one is demanding that you hate cats on behalf of Padfoot, Siri."

"Padfoot is!" Sirius gave him a you can't argue with that logic look, but Remus knew he could.

"Ah, yes, my boyfriend the dog," he mused, cocking an eyebrow at Sirius who promptly reached out with his finger and pulled it back down.

"I could so give you a comeback to that, but I respect you too much not to say it in public," Sirius muttered and Remus couldn't fight his laughter.

Something moving in his periphery brought his attention back on you, seeing you shift even more into Regulus which caused him to begin stirring as well. Go back to sleep, go back to sleep, Remus whispered to you in his mind.

As always, you didn't listen to him, and ever so slowly Remus saw you peel one yellow eye open, blinking blearily at the room before turning your head back towards Regulus. The greyest of your four paws came up to gently pet at the black cat's neck, almost as if you were smoothing over the fur you had ruffled in your sleep. It made Remus' heart ache with love for you both, even as his stomach was slowly dropping.

A soft prrt! escaped Regulus before he instantly began purring and tightening his hold on you with his little cat paws, nosing his head against yours. A kind of softness Regulus rarely let himself fall into in public, though this was arguably a grey area.

It almost looked like you were about to be driven back into sleep by the vibrations moving through you from Regulus' chest. Remus noticed Sirius paying attention raptly as well, which was unfortunate.

Because when you shot up out of your seat with a small squeak, jumping as if startled as you looked towards the clock – now a good 30 minutes into your 45 minutes lesson – Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter. It earned him more than a few hushes from those around, but most importantly, it earned him your head snapping around to look at him with eyes that could rival a basilisk’s.

Considering Remus was already on a streak of making disloyal choices towards his loved ones, he didn't fight his instinct to stand up from his seat and back up when you ran and jumped onto the table right in front of Sirius' face with a hiss. You slapped at him with a clawless paw to which Sirius whispered something along the lines of "hey, knock it off, be cool" while trying to hold you at arm's length. You scowled at him as aggressively as any cat could, raising your back slightly before you arguably tut-ed at him and jumped back down.

Remus fought for his life to not laugh.

You turned around and ran over to Regulus who was still lazily stretching and gaining his bearings, not an ounce of care shown towards the near-assault of his brother. Nudging him with your head towards the end of the chair, he got the point and jumped down, already falling into his usual graceful mannerisms.

Together you scurried off back into your corner.

When you came back a mere minute later Remus swore there was no difference in your facial expression. Remus carefully walked around the table – where Sirius was still sitting with a petulant pout – hands up in surrender.

You crossed your arms, leaning your weight onto your right hip as you glared at your oldest friend, clearly expecting him to speak first. Behind you Regulus was strolling over, looking like he was trying really hard to be miffed but falling just short.

“How dare you,” you said – and it was a statement, not a question.

“In my defence,” Remus started, hands still up but so were the corners of his lips. “You two looked adorable.”

“That will surely hold up real well with the professor,” you scoffed.

“We didn’t make you fall asleep, princess,” Sirius grumbled to which you turned to him with a bitch please look Remus is fairly certain you picked up from Sirius.

“Apologies for expecting my friends to have my back. How stupid of me.”

“Very stupid indeed,” Sirius murmured as he took a sip of his coffee, grimacing when he found it to be cold. He nearly spilled some when Regulus gave him a light slap up the back of the head.

Remus figured it was time to pull out the big guns.

He manoeuvred his held up hands to be stretched out towards you instead with a rueful smile as he inched closer and closer. You had a moody expression still, eyeing him with suspicion, but you didn’t move out of the way. He dared make a small cooing sound as he brought you into a hug, coddling you like one would a child after they hurt themselves to keep them from crying.

“‘M super super sorry, lovie,” Remus half-muttered half-laughed into your hair as he rocked you a little bit. Your arms were still crossed against his chest, but you were leaning into him. 

“Don’t believe you, Loopy.” 

Regulus snorted at that and Remus looked up at him over his shoulder and the boys shared a look of humour and shared love for you that warmed his stomach. Though when Sirius nipped at Regulus’ sleeve to get his attention, the faux-miffed expression was plastered right back on the younger boy’s face.

Siblings, Remus thought and chuckled a bit into your hair.

“You laughing at me?” you questioned incredulously. 

“No, I’m laughing at our boys.” His response was quick to rid himself of any further accusations.

You instantly nodded against his shoulder. “Understandable.”

“Hey! Don’t bring me into this, amour.” Regulus' chiding tone was met with you uncrossing your arms at last, reaching a hand out behind you blindly, which he immediately took and squeezed with his own.

You let your other arm curl around Remus’ back. Forgiveness at last.

He pulled back to look down at you with a goofy grin, and was pleased to see you could no longer contain yours either. “You were really cute. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

You gave him a look. “Right, no laughing at our expense whatsoever.”

“Never.”

You gave him a light shove while you snorted, pushing him away from you. “This is what I get for my sacrifice for you?” you said as you shook your head at him not much unlike McGonagall would during detention.

“I would argue you got a pretty sweet deal with that sacrifice, doll, seeing as you can curl up with your equally sacrificial boyfriend and sleep in the library whenever.” Sirius nodded solemnly, while jutting his chin towards Regulus. “This one would never let that happen in any other form.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could’ve convinced him,” you replied, looking at Regulus with an almost salacious smile. As if to prove your point – or just to prove Sirius wrong – he came up to stand closer behind you, arms going around your waist. You leaned your weight back against him with a happy sigh.

“Disgusting,” was all Sirius offered.

You raised an eyebrow at him before turning your head sideways to give Regulus a short, sweet kiss.

“Disgusting,” he groaned once more, pressing the backs of his palms into his eyes.

“Karma,” you and Remus sing-songed at him at the exact same time in the exact same tone. 

Your eyes met in surprise before you both burst out laughing, any pretend fight seeping out of you as you both beamed at each other.

Siblings, Remus found himself thinking once more.

“Well, now that we don’t have a lesson to get to anymore, I suggest we get out of here,” Regulus sighed, squeezing your hips as if to underline his point.

“Where we heading?” Sirius asked as he swung his legs out to get up.

“I don’t know where you’re going,” you started. “But Remus will go hunt down a certain Head Boy and get him to make up some excuse to Professor Flitwick for why Regulus and I did not attend class so that our absence is removed from the records.” You put on your sweetest smile as you turned towards Remus at the last part.

“Regulus, what have you done with her?!” Sirius stage-whispered his accusation at Regulus who only responded with a certain impolite gesture.

“And why would James do that?” Remus drawls, certain that his entertainment was written all over his face.

“Oh, I’m sure he owes you for something, you figure it out.” You spoke as you tried to put your bag over your shoulder to leave, but Remus and Regulus both reached for it at the same time. They gave each other a look, trying to decide who will take the literal burden, before they both turned to Sirius and dropped the bag in his lap. He rolled his eyes at the both of them, but pulled the strap over his free shoulder nonetheless. 

“You are quite the minx, aren’t you?” Remus asked, going for chiding and landing somewhere along the lines of compliance.

“Learned from the best, Rem!” you cheered brightly, pressing quick smacking kisses on both his and Sirius’ cheek.

Before they could muster up a response or a reaction, you had already hauled Regulus down the halls of the library towards the exit with half-heartedly hushed giggles. The raven-haired boy looked over his shoulder right before you turned the corner with a barely-contained smile, inhibitions straw thin in your presence.

Remus understood him well.

He turned to Sirius with a pleased smile to find him already admiring his reactions from where he stood beside him.

“I get why they’re cats,” Remus mused as he interlaced their fingers, following the general direction you ran off to, ready to hunt down James and possibly claw up some furniture. 

“Because they’re adorable but also massive menaces?”

Remus breathed out contently. “Yeah.”

[massharp1971]

Oh look I found why I'm getting anon harassment in my inbox - back from the depths of one of my shittiest years - and also note my explanations have been edited out. How very intellectual of you all to prove I'm very very stupid via the medium of memes. I give a more lengthy explanation of where I was coming from here although I'm pretty sure I did so at the time.

But also, some context: At the time of writing I was a part-time academic researcher in HUGE study related to a marginalised group. There are reasons I can't specify. The tenured professors in charge of the project had no academic background in this very niche field nor lived experience (I did and so did other junior researchers). And through the duration of the project they failed to engage with the existing research on this marginalised group, which meant by the time we came to write up they were embarassingly ignorant about the field. They also did really poor work - writing stuff up on the fly that was academically weak, poorly analysed, and poorly cited. If an undergrad had turned in what they did, they'd likely have failed. But they were professors - in UK, that means the top echelons of academia, and they could get away with any old shit. The professors were also heavily politically influenced by existing powers within the clinical field to water down what could have been incendiary findings about existing practices. I.e. the people who did not have lived experience but studied our community like bugs under a microscope were the people who called the shots. And they were also a boys club who got where they got via recommendation rather than training or academic engagement. There was no real evidence or academia underpinning much of their practice, which was part of what our research showed, and they were trying to cover up. So when I wrote this (and the more that has been cropped) I was an exhausted, burnt out academic working ridiculous hours to catch the worst of what these truly incompetent and self-serving professors were trying to put out into the world, all the while knowing that the very clinicians who were being exposed for basically abusing marginalised patients had more influence over the project than the people of lived experience (and more considerable collective academic knowledge of this particular niche) being tokenised and exploited as workers in the research, but also being silenced and ignored when convenient in the interests of power.

And the thing was, that there is such a complete lack of engagement with this community's embedded knowledge and our academic output that piss-poor academia passes muster in the field IF it props up existing biases and oppressive practice.

So I was, and continue to be, very jaded about how marginalised folks fare in academia. I'm also terrified of the way money and power dictate what research tells us and which research findings get heard and which buried. As for peer review? The "peers" reviewing are rarely embedded or of lived experience themselves, so peer review is sometimes little more than a pale stale male back slapping exercise. It vastly depends on the field, of course. But go read about the replication crisis in psychology - all that shit was peer reviewed and a whole field was built on it. You don't need to be an academic or be able to read books to tell whether academic research on marginalised people is good or not, you just need to listen to a few sensible, moderately smart people from the marginalised group, and check that they are reasonably well thought of by the group at large. Whether or not they're academics - personally, I'd pick both, because there was A LOT of pressure on those of us who were marginalised in academia to eat our words and not challenge stuff for the sake of career progression, and I came rapidly to the conclusion you cannot be a marginalised person in academia without having to make choices that may well betray your principles and your community.

Which is why I'm no longer an academic. There are other sources of learning than influencers OR academia and sometimes the best way to learn is to listen to a bunch of people who have the right experience rather blinkeredly trusting letters after their name. I got into academia through an atypical route and had written very well thought of, well researched and well cited materials including a published book before I was (briefly) an academic.

So, don't you come at me telling me I can't read. I wonder which line of this people will cherrypick to "prove" that anyone who doesn't swallow whole every last thing academics say is stupid?

(including Andrew Wakefield, presumably, because he was very much peer reviewed, but when your research feeds a moral panic about a marginalised group, peer review isn't the all-powerful catch of bad research people think it is) Will you screenshot me again so I don't get a chance to explain myself or right of reply? So I don't know why I'm suddenly having to turn my inbox off anon asks?

signed an anti-intellectual, apparently. Or maybe someone who doesn't think it's safe to go round the internet saying "believe everything academics say, peer review means you can trust each and every word of it, always, and the neoliberal and political forces that blight influencer culture are repelled entirely by red brick" I fucking wish.

[grapejuicestyless]

Wishes Do Come True

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: It was just a legend, something out in place to make people believe in something that couldn’t be true. But when fate has its way, JJ learns that sometimes, wishes do come true. CONTAINS SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!!

Ryan shot the gun first. He shot it because Ward was charging at him, his teeth bared and his arms spread wide. How fitting that he would go out as a somewhat decent father, a man who took three bullets and threw himself over a cliff to save his daughter and her Pogue best friends.

JJ remembers the feeling of the earth bending beneath his feet as he practically sprinted over to the edge, looking down past his feet to see where the Kook and the henchman lay. JJ thought it was strange, how someone could be so crumpled up, he knew bones weren’t made to bend that way, so seeing the way his body twisted made him a little sick.

He can hear Sarahs soft cries and echoing hiccups clearly, how Kiara seemed to grab onto herself to steady her breathing. He remembers seeing how tightly John B’s arms were woven around Sarah’s body, as if he were afraid she would jump next, as if her body could save his. There was no saving that, as sick as it was.

But what he really remembers, is the softness of her voice calling out for him, the way her voice shook like it was hard to get out. Only then did the sounds of his friends stop ringing in his ears, and through some champagne party effect, he could focus in on just the quietness of her. Only then did he realize as he tried to wrap his arm around thin air that she wasn’t at the ledge.

A stray bullet, it’s a funny thing. The shots fire, four, the last four bullets the man has, and only three reach the sacrificial lamb. The last one reaches one of the seven targets behind it.

Her hands shook over her upper stomach, gripping her skin just below her ribs. Even with a shaky focus, he could see the tint of read beginning to seep past her once light blue nails, now chipped and digging into the cloth of her shirt.

“JJ, I…I don’t…” She stumbled forward, her eyes flickering from his to some distant thing over his shoulder. She could barely focus her vision. He remembers the weight of her head hitting his shoulder as he caught her, the feeling of an extra warmth seeping into his own clothes, something wet and sticky that shouldn’t be drenching the two of them, but was.

“No, no, no. Come on cupcake, come on.” He gritted his teeth, trying to hold her up, but his need to keep her up was wavering at the look of agony on her face. She laid in his lap, his hand holding hers as they both pressed down on the wound, though, it was no use because they had no way home, and the nearest hospital wasn’t for miles. They had no idea where to even begin to search for one in the middle of all the greenery.

JJ rambled in a panic, a habit he’d always done, but she couldn’t make sense of it anymore. Her hearing was fuzzy and her vision came in and out in waves of darkness. She tried to look at her friends, but her eyes wouldn’t tear themselves away from her best friend’s face.

She had just gotten him, their love was still brand new, discovered on an island they were sure they would never find again. It was barely a month since they had shared a kiss under the stars, one both had been dreaming of for years. They went back and forth for what felt like centuries and now none of it mattered, because JJ was holding his love in his arms as she helplessly spat up blood and tried to focus on the blue of his eyes and not the tears on his face.

“It’s gonna be okay, you just gotta fight, you can fight. You fucking…” JJ broke out into a bitter laugh, one he didn’t mean as his palms messily wiped away the blood that trickled down her jaw. Red smeared everywhere, sticking to every crease in his skin. It burned, and so he kept smiling because his laughter, as disingenuous as it was, brought a weak smile to her face. “You saved my life, when I fell off that boat. You kept me alive, and I’m gonna keep you alive, so don’t give up on me.”

The sight of the tears finally spilling from her pretty eyes would forever haunt JJ, because he knew as her chest caved in against his lap, that the pain was too great to make her stay and suffer through, when they both knew she was as good as dead as soon as the gun was fired.

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore.” She had told him weakly, the initial throbbing turning into an intense burning, a mix of the powder and the blood that pooled around her, soaking his skin through his pants.

“N-no, come on baby…baby, cupcake, please.” He pleaded. “I love you, please.”

Her ears seemed to clear at his heavy confession, and a sweet smile, the sweet smile he had fallen for back in the third grade, graced her pretty, tired face one last time.

“I love you JJ.” She promised, blinking back the tears. Somehow, she found the strength to lift his hand from her wound and press her bloodied lips to his sticky palm.

He had to watch the way her eyes fluttered shut, one last choked breath that sounded similar to what Pope would later explain as death rattle breathing, escaped her mouth, and that sweet little smile faded into nothing as she laid dead in her best friends arms.

JJ was never quite the same after that. He still loved his friends, he was still reckless and loud and impulsive, but he seemed to do it all for her.

When they won their money finally, he thought of all the things he would’ve bought for her, all the beaches they could’ve surfed across. When he finally found a place to call home, he placed her pillow on her side of his bed, fluffed it up for her and swore some nights he could feel her head resting on his heavy chest.

He thought of how much she would have loved Poguelandia 2.0. It was bittersweet to see the flag because all he could think of was their first kiss under the white flag that waved proudly above them.

He missed their matching P4L stick and pokes, he hated that he had to look at his forever and know it no longer matched with anyone. He hated that everyone else around him had someone to lean on, a lover to come home to, when he knew he would never be able to love again. But most importantly, he hated how young she was. She was only nineteen.

John B told him it wasn’t about the time we had with those we have lost, but what we make of it, but JJ was too angry to care. He didn’t care, it was easy for John B to say when he had lost a best friend, but JJ had lost so much more.

He wore her charm bracelet on his wrist, even though it was tight and caused a lot of noise. He loved the charms on them because they were old and made of clay and they matched his rings and necklace. She made them when they were ten because they were too young for their tattoos.

He swore to never go after treasure again, he couldn’t risk it, but with the promise of a singular wish, JJ followed along like a duckling to Morocco, blood on his shirt and a new father to betray him.

“You know, they say the crown grants a wish.” Kiara broke the silence between them in the heat one day, looking up at the sky to avoid the awkwardness of eye contact. She didn’t have to ask to know he would wish for her back in a heartbeat, but she did anyway because truthfully she liked the way JJ talked about her. It made her feel like her best friend was still alive.

“Yeah?” JJ scoffed with a smirk. “What would you wish for?” He asked, leaning over the unstable ledge, bricks dusty and the cement breaking apart. It wobbled under his forearms.

“I’m not saying I believe it but…I’d wish to go back in time maybe. I’d try not to rush into everything.” She said calmly, her eyes finding JJ’s.

“What about you?” She asked softly, and JJ hummed.

“The thing about wishes is, they don’t come true if you say them.” Kiara laughed breathily at his words.

“Yeah?” She questioned for confirmation.

“Yeah.” He breathed out. “And I really want this one to come true.”

That phrase, “be careful what you wish for,” was made for people like JJ Maybank.

There’s this old game called “Monkeys Paw” that Y/n and JJ both loved when they were younger. One person would make a wish, and the goal of the game was to make that person regret that wish.

They would stay up for hours laughing about it.

If JJ wished for a pizza, the pizza was poisoned. If Y/n wanted a dog, it was rabid. They’d spend hours at a time waking up the neighbors just laughing at how outrageous they could make the faults.

Now that they were older, and now that Y/n was gone, JJ seemed to forget about the rules of the game.

He stumbled back, all air caught in his throat. He lost the crown, and he’d lost his girl, and now, here his biological father was with a knife twisted deep into his abdomen, pulling it out with a sickening crunch.

Kiara pleaded for him to keep fighting, her hands on the wound in a way that reminded him of the way he desperately pressed against Y/n’s all those weeks ago. Her cries were just as desperate, and they were just as fuzzy.

JJ now felt thankful he let her go peacefully, because living through the pain was insufferable, and he knew it would have been cruel to make her fight it any longer.

He cried a little, but he wasn’t sad. No, he was happy, even as Kiara screamed for Pope and John B, begging for help that would do no good because just like his precious Y/n, there was no way home and no help in sight.

He let out a hiccup, and his eyes focused on her brown ones as his vision cleared for a moment, the sting turning into a familiar burn.

“Kie, I never told you my wish.” He smiled, and she shook her head.

“No, Jayj, come on, you gotta fight it. I can’t lose you too.” She pleaded, and it was like he wasn’t even listening as he kept choking out words.

“I already got what I wished for.” He smiled.

All he ever wanted was a home, and though every sacred place he ever had to call that were short lived and destroyed, he had found it in the people who loved him, and the people he loved.

JJ wished for so much more than anyone thought, and he’d gotten all of it.

He had you at one point, and he was eternally grateful for every hug he ever received from your loving arms. He had Pope and John B, who made him laugh like no one else ever could, his ribs sore and his stomach shaking. Kiara and Sarah kept him grounded. He was grateful for how much they cared, how safe he felt around them. He knew he would miss his best friends more than anything else, he would miss them like family, because thats what they were.

The Pogues were his family, and his family was his home.

JJ wished for one last thing with the crown as the darkness took him. He slipped away from his body, his head lulling to the side as Kiara shook him, but he wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t afraid because there she was.

Kneeling beside Kiara and she didn’t even know, there she was, her sweet smile and her pretty eyes. She was holding both Kiara’s hand, and his hand, nothing more than wind to them on the ground, but now JJ could see her, and now he could hold her.

“Y/n? Cupcake?” He breathed out with a smile, the luckiest man in the world, even if his toes didn’t physically touch the dirt or the sand anymore.

“Jay…” She smiled back, a sweet sound falling past her lips, and it was simply half of his name.

As his arms wrapped around her tightly, his nose buried into her shoulder. It felt good to know that he would never have to let her go again, and that someday, his friends would have the same pleasure of holding him again too.

JJ’s wish had been a little greedy, because in addition to what he was already granted, he wished to be with Y/n again.

He guess he never really specified how but hey, wishes really do come true.

[magicaldragonwizard]

Give me your

attention please ✋My campaign is stagnant 💔

Is everything gonna be okey guys?

Yeess♥️♥️♥️

I was a successful person in my life.. I was always proud of myself. And my family was proud too.. I had dreams and ambitions that I was striving to achieve and my life was full of lectures but now that we have been at war for more than a year we have been deprived of completing our university studies I had hoped to become an English translator and a teacher.. But all of that has stopped completely.. Can you feel my broken heart??!! Can you imagine what I feel now?? Disappointed.. Tell me what to write to you so that you can help me and my family by donating and participating??

After the prices went up like crazy.. I created this campaign to help my family with food, drink and basic needs...

My name is Diana, a student at the Islamic University studying English in Gaza, Palestine... 🇵🇸. I really thank you for taking the time to read my story.. My family and I are trying to get out of Gaza to complete my studies and help my brothers, mother and father. We are a family of 6.. and we are struggling to survive in the face of all kinds of suffering.. including fear, instability, hunger and thirst in Gaza

I know for sure that you cannot help all the families who want your help..but at least help those who come across you in your life..your generous support will give us hope

[evertidings]

— OCTOBER 2024.

accomplishments.

ahh i can’t believe it’s november (almost typed october there, great going me). it’s so wild to think we’re almost at the new year. i say that every time holiday season rolls around, but i genuinely feel it every year. so so crazy.

onto actual writing stuff: i hope you all enjoyed chapter eleven!! it’s been a month since it was released and i got such great reception from it, so thank you for reading and for saying such wonderful things to me. i spent the first bit of this month taking a break from writing (and recovering from the mental toll chapter eleven took on me), but i’m back at it now and i’m pleased to say that chapter twelve is in the works.

i'm currently writing one of two big branches in the book featuring, you guessed it, the ros. i know i've said this a lot lately, but we are truly very close to the romance lock and i want to make sure you have ample one-on-one time with the ro(s) of your choice before that happens. it's mostly for development reasons, but it definitely doesn't hurt that you get more time with your faves, right? thank me later.

to give you a little glimpse of chapter twelve, i'll vaguely say that Eliana's meeting will be a doozy. she's on a completely different level from Mirai and i already know i'm going to have so much fun writing that scene. i have plans to add tons of details and flavour text, and while it'll probably be more complicated than it needs to be (causing my future self to curse me out), i think it'll be really worth it. the intricacies of this game may be tedious at times, but i also think it's what makes it flourish (and loved) so i'm more than happy to do it. plus it gets me excited so hehe.

overall, the goal for this month involves writing. tons of writing. i don't have a date for chapter twelve yet since it's much too early, but i don't want to make you all wait ten months again, so i'm working my hardest! this chapter is going to be difficult to write (really though, when do i not struggle with writing?) but i'm really excited for it. Eliana's scene will truly be one for the books.

as always, take care of yourselves <3

stats.

chapter total: 9305 words

game total: ~520,780 words