#she's 29 damn

[blorbo-hellspace]

if you can accept that Chilchuck was a grown man at 14 and is now middle aged at 29, why can't you accept that Leed, who has the same exact lifespan, is an adult?

[duckapus]

The SMG Trios of Origins Interrupted

Barry

The protagonist of a block pushing puzzle game called "Blook"

A cute little red square guy with mitten hands, big blocky eyebrows, thick vertical lines for eyes, and a cute little one tooth overbite

In modern day he has a permanent scowl, full eyes with beady pupils and prominent eyebags, and is always wearing a grey fedora-trenchcoat combo. Still has the cute overbite though.

Was originally a friendly, helpful little buddy who cheered the player on, and becoming the Avatar turned him into an insane idiotic asshole like Season 1 Mario.

Due to a lack of positive influences, by the time he managed to get his new personality under control he'd managed to drive away everyone who'd ever cared about him, turning him bitter and jaded

Only found out about all the Meme Cycle stuff after that, causing him to abandon his home universe and set off on a crusade against the SMG Program

Absolutely hates memes, and especially hates that his Avatar status gives him the inescapable compulsion to use them

SMG17 and SMG18

Preferred to keep to themselves, hence why they weren't involved in Barry's life until after he hit rock bottom and began to hate them

They don't really show up outside of flashbacks, so all that's really known about them is that 17 is green and 18 is pink

Ash Ketchum

Since Barry's meddling means he doesn't get memed until near the end of the arc, he acts exactly the same as in canon

Is surprisingly okay with the fact that winning will turn him into a chaotic idiot

Can already use some memes even though he's not the Avatar yet, similarly to how Meggy can occasionally use memes despite not really Getting them

Uses his Unova outfit because I like it the most, but in terms of memories, experience and available Pokemon he's from after the last episode of Aim to be a Pokemon Master

Is 17 because fuck you canon there's no way he's still ten after all that you can't do that much stuff in less than a year. Really even 17 feels like I'm lowballing it a bit, but I wanted him to still be at "technically a kid" age for extra "excuse me what the fuck" points when everyone else finds out what his life is like

Pikachu

Got a little bit zapped by one of the Pods when Barry was stealing them to suppress the Meme Wave so now he can talk and is kind of an asshole

He was really already an asshole it's just that now everyone can understand him

The only meme character in a canon world. Such is life

SMG29

Been alive for less than a minute and already realized she's trans

The Sane One

Is well aware of her sense of humor being tuned to dead memes and fully embraces The Cringe

I'll decide on designs for her and 30 later but do know that she trades her palette swap outfit for something more her style as soon as possible

She does at least keep her hat, which is blue and black with a female Nidoran face instead of red and white with a light blue pokeball emblem

SMG30

MAXIMUM ADHD. Cannot stay still to save his life, even moreso than Ash

Doesn't tend to come up with crazy ideas of his own, but is very much an enabler of everyone else's crazy ideas

Has a bit of a mad scientist streak, which is where most of the exceptions to his lack of crazy ideas stem from

His hat is green and white with a purple SMG arrow pointing up

They both get Pokemon partners after the situation is dealt with, but I haven't picked them yet.

[rorsry]

watched uhh dorothy returns ro wizard of oz (2013) and i'd give it a 6.5/10 in general but entertainment wise i'd give it an 8.5 (tbf i was watching it with my brother idk how i'd rate it if i was alone) theres a part where they need a boat and dorothy snaps a piece of wood off a tree who yells in pain and then every tree there starts throwing rocks and acorns at her but then it cuts to a tree hunched over and hes like "take me... take me." and i csnt properly explain why it's so unbelievably funny. the line delivery makes him sound so accepting like he's really willing to die to help dorothy get a boat and i can't stop thinking about it

[andr0medafallen]

Top 5 movies

OR

Top 5 books (whichever one you’re feeling <3)

How about both? But in no particular order cause I'm not that decisive.

*consults my spreadsheets*

Movies:

Hunt for the Wilderpeople: Actually, this is Taika Waititi's best work, go cry about it. (I'm a Taika Waititi hipster.)

Twilight: What do you want me to say?

Addicted to Fresno: y'all simply don't get it

Nacho Libre: I don't have an excuse for this other than that I was raised mormon.

Practical Magic: never met a gay girl that didnt like this movie. The most Lesbian movie to ever not lesbian.

Books:

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar: If you don't like it, you simply don't get it.

The Scholomance series by Naomi Novik: sorry for throwing in a series, but I love this series and relate heavily to the main character.

Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahallan: would you believe that this was my comfort book when I was 16

Scythe: Do I like this because no one else does or because it's good? The world may never know.

Princess Academy: I don't remember anything that happened in this book, but just thinking about it gives me happy nostalgia feelings.

Honorary mention: The Salamander Spell by E.D. Baker. I snorted this shit like cocaine when I was 8.

[orangespottedgiraffe]

.

[honeybee-hayes]

.

[kavehater]

You as a nineteen year old shouldn’t be dating a TWENTY nine year old . . .

[halfwayhearted]

There Beneath — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which everyone but you forgot his 30th birthday.

Word Count: 875+

Disclaimer/s — Happy birthday to the nerd ever! ^_^ + sunshine!reader, fluff/comfort, and… yeah, beautiful!

A/N: Based off this request, ‘Hey pook! So spencer blurb or whatever and it’s based off the “you’re 29” “im 30” “we missed your birthday?” except reader didn’t. so back to his bday and maybe reader shows up at his apt with a thing of books she KNOWS he hasn’t read and tea and his favorite coffee and stuff. #fluff #ineedspencer #iloveu’! My layout messed up on the other one and I ended up deleting it! So.

Blank stare. “No way… we missed your birthday?”

All Spencer could do was stare right back and offer a small, awkward smile, averting his gaze. They had. They all had. Except for, well, you.

You’ve had his birthday marked on your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you didn’t go all out for your best friend’s birthday. You spent half of September secretly and subtly finding out what Spencer Reid did throughout his… rare days at home. His answer every time was that he liked to read, play chess, go out for coffee, or watch his favorite show, ‘Doctor Who’. Okay! Okay, good.

So, with that being said, you did your utmost to grab all of the wrapped presents without fail. You did it, with a grunt and muttered curses, but you did it. Slamming your car door shut, you made your way up to his apartment. The familiar brown door coming into view made your heart quicken.

Stopping right in front of his place, you knocked with the front of your foot. You heard sounds of shuffling before his door swung open. Spencer’s expression shifting from confusion to surprise as he slowly said your name, his head tilting. “Hey… how are you? What are you doing here?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “It’s your birthday. Happy birthday!” A short pause. “Please grab your presents before they fall on the floor.”

With a small laugh, the brunette quickly moves to grab them. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as the weight is lifted. Stepping back, he sets them on his table, politely inviting you inside his house.

“So, am I the first one? Or did Penelope beat me to it. Actually, wait, don’t even answer that.”

Something you can’t quite identify crosses his features, and you instantly know you’ve said something wrong. That’s when it hits you, “No.”

Spencer immediately shrugs. “It’s fine! I’m not... hurt by it or anything. They’re just busy.”

You could’ve hugged him right then, but you refrain. Instead, you slip your hand into your tote bag and pull out a ‘Birthday Boy’ pin. His expression drops, making you laugh. “Come on!”

He remains silent, simply staring at you.

“I’ll wear the birthday hat if you wear the pin.”

His shoulders slump in defeat, and he nods, his eyes widening slightly when you instantly move toward him. Your bottom lip sinks between your teeth, clipping the pin onto his sweater, making sure not to poke him in the process. “There! How’s that? Did I poke you?”

Spencer shakes his head, too flushed to speak.

Without acknowledging it, you pull out the hat, carefully sliding it over your head. With a giddy glance up at him, you ask, “Do I look silly?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What!” You stammer, “I’m being serious! Do I?”

“You look beautiful. What’s in these?” Smooth.

“Your gifts—wait! Sit down first,” you insisted, watching how he does exactly that. You clasp your hands together in clear anticipation.

Spencer purses his lips, staring at the various wrapped boxes in front of him, unsure of which one to open first. It wasn’t that hard…

Just pick one.

Grabbing the one with light blue wrapping paper, he tenderly rips it open. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of different books—all first editions.

“How did you—” he trails off, “How?”

���How did I know? I remember you talking about it one day, so, I did some digging and I finally found them. Do you like them? Let me know.”

He traces a single finger down the spine, his smile broadening. “A lot. Thank you so much. Wow.”

Your smile grows even brighter at the sight of his widening. “Hugs afterward, keep opening!”

More of your gifts are unveiled; among them are two boxes of his favorite tea, his preferred coffee, and even a bag of sugar added in. Humorous.

This had truly made his entire day. Or, to be more precise, you had made his entire day.

Once everything was opened, he stands up and slides his hands over your waist, interlocking them behind your back while yours move to wrap loosely around his neck. “You liked everything?”

“I loved them, thank you. Really. Thank you.”

You hummed softly, “Happy birthday, Spencer.”

He says nothing but nestle his head deeper into the crook of your neck.

After a couple more minutes of comfortable silence, you quietly inquired, “Movie marathon?”

“Please. I’ll make tea, you can pick the movie.”

“It’s your birthday!” You frowned, pulling away.

“My birthday or not, you’re my guest. Choose.”

Your frown doesn’t even seem to linger at that, a smile threatening to break out on your face. You let out a huff and walk into his living room. With a glance back, you notice how much happier he seems compared to when you had first arrived.

You were certain that you’d do this for him every year. After picking the movie, he sat down beside you and set both your cups of tea on the table.

If he was being honest, he’d let you. And maybe one day, you wouldn’t just be his best friend. Not with your head resting on his shoulder, like this was just another casual evening spent together.

What’s the harm in making this, you, permanent?

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri ! ౨ৎ

[sharlsworld]

soft lauch? - 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓 ✽

✿ carlos sainz x influencer!reader (obvi)

✿ y/n and carlos try to soft launch their relationship but his millennial mind can’t comprehend the idea

✰ i got a little crazy at the end guys so i sincerely apologize for that also there’s a age gap…i’m sorry i’m obsessed with them sue me

🝮🝮🝮

definitelynotyn

liked by pierregasly and 113 others

definitelynotyn is it time to start soft launching?

carlossainz55 Mi corazón I need you to explain a soft launch to me again

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux everyone take a minute to pray for y/n

♥︎ by author

landonorris LONGGGGG over due

⤷ definitelynotyn we’ve just been waiting for the right time

francisca.cgomes soft launch us? fs

⤷ definitelynotyn let’s go over the captions

⤷ carlossainz55 Alrighty then!

⤷ pierregasly idc how many years go by i’ll never get used to this

⤷ definitelynotyn cry about it

⤷ pierregasly i will

charles_leclerc You would hope so after almost 4 years of dating

⤷ definitelynotyn it’s not our fault we can keep a secret sharl

⤷ charles_leclerc What’s that supposed to mean 🤨

lilymhe carlos sainz deserves to be locked up for going after my little kitten when she turned 18 😾

⤷ carlossainz55 Your just mad I got rizz

⤷ lilymhe obviously not that good if your girl is eating lunch with me rn

⤷ carlossainz55 @definitelynotyn Come home baby the kids miss you

⤷ definitelynotyn omw 😍

⤷ lilymhe damn…someone took my bitch

georgerussell63 Nah i’m waiting for the hard launch engagement post

⤷ carlossainz55 😏

alex_albon bros gonna catch a case 😭

⤷ danielricciardo He’s ready to risk it all

🝮

yn

liked by carlossainz55 and 6,924,085 others

yn so baby girl coded 🎀

charles_leclerc My eyes 😓

⤷ yn oh please spare me the dramatics

landonorris you two make me sick 🤢

⤷ yn all i’m seeing is a bunch of hating jealous bitches 🤧🥱

hoeforsainzzz guys…that watch looks pretty familiar

f1wags 👀👀👀

smoothoperator55 yk…i’ve spent some time memorizing the arms and hands of the f1 drivers and let me tell you…that’s gotta be carlos sainz 👁️👁️

ynstan4lyfe some of you guys need to except the fact that carlos and her are just friends and nothing more

carlossainz55 Lucky guy

this comment has been deleted

operatorsainz ik ya’ll seen that 🫣

danielricciardo How many times must I remind you that children are on this app

⤷ yn it’s not my fault if they see it the age requirement is 13 🤓

🝮

carlossainz55

liked by lewishamilton and 9,813,762 others

carlossainz55 4 years with you by my side ♥️

charles_leclerc Tell her to cut her claws it looks like you asked a bear to scratch your back

⤷ hoeforsainzzz HELLOOOO??????

carlossainzappendix HELLO THATS THE SAME PICTURE Y/N POSTED IN HER SOFT LAUNCH STHU

landonorris bless carlos and his millennial mind 😞

iliveforcarlossainz welp this definitely wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card

hearts4lando SHUT THE HELL UP 4 YEARS AND WE HAD NO CLUE?

flowersforyn sooo…we’re not gonna talk about the 8 year age gap?

⤷ alex_albon no his lawyers are on speed dial he was ready to risk it all

⤷ yn shut up albono

yn oh baby 😭

⤷ carlossainz55 Did I do it wrong?

⤷ yn yeah but it’s the thought that counts

maxverstappen1 Almost had it mate

alexandrasaintmleux whoever didn’t pray for y/n this is your fault

🝮

definitelynotyn

liked by schecoperez and 98 others

definitelynotyn why is bro tryna rizz me up

francisca.cgomes HAHAHA HES SO OLD WHO TYPES WITH AUTO CAPS

⤷ carlossainz55 Mature adults

⤷ definitelynotyn excuse me?

⤷ carlossainz55 I can never win

⤷ lilymhe HAHAHA THATS WHAT YOU GET FOR MESSING UP HER SOFT LAUNCH

charles_leclerc He actually was sweating like a bitch when he realized he posted the same picture

lewishamilton Roscoe misses his godmother he’s in need for a visit

⤷ definitelynotyn stop i’m coming over tmr

oscarpiastri 29 year old spaniard seen running around paddock looking disheveled and almost in tears after the realization hit that he ruined his girlfriends soft launch

⤷ definitelynotyn thanks for the update osc

carlossainz55 Babe please i’m on my knees begging forgive me

⤷ landonorris stand up carlos

⤷ definitelynotyn don’t you have a race to lose or something?

⤷ landonorris maybe in a different lifetime…you aren’t my bully 😔

⤷ definitelynotyn oh go cry me a river

⤷ landonorris i will

alexandrasaintmleux i wish charles was this down bad for me

⤷ charles_leclerc Girl………..

⤷ yn is what you are? 🤣🤣🤣

⤷ charles_leclerc You are my biggest hater

⤷ definitelynotyn proudly

🝮

yn

liked by haileybieber and 10,172,253 others

yn ruined my soft launch but it’s ok cause the D is fire 🔥 yeah, i said it.

carlossainz55 Mi corazón es tuyo ♥️

⤷ yn ♥️

charles_leclerc You guys should pay for my therapy since i’ve spent the last 4 years sleeping in the room next to yours

⤷ carlossainz55 Get ear plugs

ynlos ik those bitches are like bunnies 🫣

hoeforsainzzz y/n giving us a little snack 😩

ynstan4lyfe i would like to take back what i said on her soft launch

danielricciardo Your pr managers are quaking with rage right now I know it

⤷ yn i was gonna say something but then i chose peace 😇

⤷ georgerussell63 That’s a first

⤷ yn alright bro your entire existence is a meme calm down 🤣🤣

⤷ georgerussell63 I can always count on you to make me cry

🝮

carlossainz55

liked by lissiemackintosh and 9,019,723 others

carlossainz55 Dibs

francisca.cgomes WOAH THERE BUDDY

arthur_leclerc that’s enough instagram for the day.

landonorris my poor eyes

yn best pillow 😇

⤷ carlossainz55 Just for you

ynissocutiepatootie her side profile 😍😍

ynsmywife carlos sainz can’t handle allat

carlando this altered my brain chemistry

carlitossainz brotha don’t know what to do with allat

charles_leclerc Every time I open this app man I can’t escape it 💔

⤷ yn is that a little bitch i hear?

⤷ charles_leclerc You wound me

maxverstappen1 Wasn’t prepared for that

carlossainz55 All you bitches can stay mad

🝮

yns.asskisser

liked by oscarpiastri and 84 others

yns.asskisser Date night with the missus

yn WOOF WOOF MEOW 😍😘😋👅🤤 SMASH SMASH SMASH YOU CAN HAVE IT ANY DAY ANY WHERE ANY TIME

⤷ yns.asskisser I love u mami

yn do you want head?

⤷ yns.asskisser Always baby 😘

⤷ charles_leclerc JUST BECAUSE THIS IS A PRIVATE ACCOUNT DOESNT MEAN OTHER PEOPLE CANT SEE IT

landonorris aw you sick bastard

lilymhe what is it finna play…WOAHHHH

alexandrasaintmleux i miss the person i was 10 seconds ago

francisca.cgomes you and y/n put 50 shades of grey to SHAME

alex_albon so who’s coming to church with me and lily on sunday? 😇

⤷ pierregasly me and kika

⤷ charles_leclerc Me and alexandra

⤷ oscarpiastri me and lily

⤷ danielricciardo Me

⤷ schecoperez Me

⤷ maxverstappen1 Me

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 Me

⤷ lewishamilton Me and roscoe

⤷ georgerussell63 Me and carmen

⤷ landonorris me

⤷ joris__trouche me

⤷ lance_stroll me

⤷ logansargeant me

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial Me

⤷ yn ya’ll mad i’m getting my world rocked every night 🤪🤪

♥︎ by author

[raestromboli]

𝒢𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒮 𝒲𝐸 𝐵𝒪𝒯𝐻 𝒜𝐼𝒩’𝒯 𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒯!

ᡴꪫ 𓂃 chris finally commits to a relationship! he swears up and down that he’s happy . . . but his girlfriend isn’t the reason why.

cw. ┊ 18+, not proofread, cheater!chris x milf!reader, smut, established relationship but not between reader, cheating, vulgar language, pet name usage, age gap﹙chris is 21, reader is 29﹚, gfs name is eve, persuasion, mild manipulation, cunnilingus﹙he eats it from the back﹚, spanking, backshots, overstimulation, creampie, y’all almost get caught, mdni.

⌗ the age gap between chris and r is not gonna align w the gf bc i feel uncomfy writing chris any younger and i am NOT gonna write the reader as an old ass woman 🤍 hope y’all get it

chris doesn't even have a damn clue on why he’s currently standing in front of his girlfriend’s mom’s residence when he knows his girlfriend isn't even inside the house.

though, all he wants is to see is her mom . . . her fucking mom.

it's kind of ridiculous, he thinks, how he has a crush on his girl's mom and calls her a milf in his head. he feels sick and twisted for even thinking of those lewd and perverted thoughts, but it’s almost addictive. you’re addictive. he really doesn't want to admit it, but chris was obsessed with comparing his girlfriend to you.

your curves, your pretty tits, your waist, your oh so soft thighs, and your lips. oh fuck, your lips. all he could think is . . . why couldn't your daughter take those features?

knocking on the door twice, the door immediately swings open to be met with your doe eyes staring up at him, worry settling in on them, "oh, chris—what’re you doing here, sweetie?" you pout sympathetically, noticing how chris looked so disheveled; hair sticking up in awkward places and little beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, “are you looking for eve?”

chris decides to play innocent, nodding his head and pouting at you.

“‘m so sorry, honey. she just left.” your voice was so smooth and comforting. he could only imagine how you’d sound when you’re getting your back blown out by him.

he raised his brows, pink lips forming into an 'o' as an attempt to look oblivious, " o-oh, shit. my bad." he huffs out a nervous laugh, turning around to begin walking off.

"wait!" you suddenly yelled. if chris didn’t know any better, you might’ve sounded desperate.

he looked so flustered and parched, so the least you could do for the sweet boy was to nurse him back to hydration . . . right? when chris stopped in his tracks, you didn't get to see the wicked smirk on his face before he turned around, meeting your eye.

“yes, ma’am?”

you frowned, "please don’t go back out there. i know you walked over here, poor boy."

fuuuck, you’re so caring. it makes his dick hard.

you widen the front door and chris immediately gives in, grinning and thanking you while heading inside your home. he’s been in your house before, but something about being just the two of you, alone, made everything feel special. just thinking about it made him feel like a perv—he was getting off to it, though.

chris eyes you the whole time.

you make your way into the kitchen, leaning down as you open the fridge door and pull out a pitcher of lemonade. you’re completely oblivious about the two blue eyes that ogle at your tits, or your ass when you bend down. that just makes it funner for chris. you pour the liquid in a tall glass and slid it over to the boy who sat himself down on the kitchen island.

while doing so, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really all this way to your house.

“chris, did you really walk all the way over here? if you wanted to come over, you could’ve called me, sweetie. i would’ve drove you.” chris took a few seconds to answer, a little busy chugging down the refreshment. some of the liquid slipped past his lips and ran down his chin.

his adams apple bobbed as he finished the last of the lemonade, setting the glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "yeah, sorry. i will next time." chris giggles lowly, eyes boring its way into yours.

you smile at him when you both went quiet, “do you, uhm, want me to call eve and tell her you’re here?”

“nah, let it be a surprise.”

you teasingly coo at him, a coy grin playing at your lips when chris meekly shrugs, “she’s so lucky to have you, y’know.”

that makes him smirk, “yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s your turn to act shy, crossing your arms under your chest nervously. you spot chris’ eyes traveling down your chest, but you don’t say anything.

“soooo, you don’t have a man or somethin’ like that?”

“. . a man?”

he shrugs again, but with more confidence. a cocky smirk plays crooked on his lips while he continues, “like, someone you can depend on?”

“i guess not,” you huff out a laugh, “i’ve been too busy raising eve that i’ve never really thought about that.”

oh, but you have.

it’s so wrong, so disgusting and immature of you, but you think about it . . with chris . . . a lot. of course, you just wouldn’t admit it. you pushed those thoughts aside before you could get too carried away.

“damn,” he purses his lips, “you ever get lonely?”

you playfully furrow your brows at chris, “that seems a little inappropriate to ask that about your girlfriend’s mother.”

“is it?” he smirks while sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, “i just wanted to know a little more ‘bout you.”

you notice the atmosphere change in just a second. it makes you nervous.

“what do you wanna know?”

“i dunno . . .” chris then shrugs, maintaining eye contact with you as he walks past you. his hands paw at your waist to move you aside, purposely grinding his bulge against your ass. he hears you suck in a shaky, deep breath and a grin blooms across his face, “would you fuck a younger guy?” he turns the sink faucet on, so he’s unable to hear the shocked gasp that slips past your lips.

“chris! that’s h-highly inappropriate!” your head whips over to your left to stare at chris in bewilderment, eyes widened like saucers and lips parted.

you watch chris turn the faucet off, wiping his wet hands on his jean clad thighs before turning to face you, “sooo, no?”

“i-i can’t answer that—“

“why not?”

he can’t be serious.

you scoff at him, your eyes straining a bit as you try not to stare at the obvious bulge poking from chris’ jeans. he leaned against the sink counter with his arms crossed over each other, looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust.

“please don’t make me say it.” you can’t even muster yourself up to care as you beg chris. you’re just hoping all this was just one of those wet dreams you’ve been having of him lately.

chris knows you won’t say it, so he takes the cake for you, “what eve doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

you feel more lightheaded each step chris takes toward you, the potent smell of his cologne invading your senses. he’s even more prettier close up—your head’s so fuzzy, “i-i can’t do that to her, chris.” you whisper.

“no?” chris’ sympathetic pout seems purely fake when his hard stare on you intimidates you, “you sayin’ you don’t want me?”

“chris . . .” you whimper softly.

“c’mon, say it. you’ll be my good girl, won’t you?”

you can’t believe how a younger man like chris could have so much power over you. his suave voice immediately makes you fold, along with his piercing gaze that leaves you cowering.

two hands wrap around your waist to pin you against the counter, his bulge pressing against your bare thigh.

“i . . i want you.” you managed to spit it out with chris pushing his body impossibly closer to yours, his chest smushing against yours and his breath fanning over your face. he smiles at you, and it almost seems innocent before he leans in and locks his lips with yours.

it’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone, let alone been with a man this close to you. so you expect chris to pull away and sneer at your sloppy motions, but instead he sighs in almost relief against your lips.

chris’ kisses are messy and uncoordinated, but somehow in the best possible way. he sucks on your bottom lip, whining nasally while he lets you explore his mouth. your lips are coated in a glossy sheen with his saliva when he pulls away, panting and staring at you with low eyes—almost like he was high.

“. . . you’d let me fuck you? hm?” he mumbles as his head lowers down to hide himself in your neck, starting to attack the sensitive skin on your pulse point immediately. that action makes you keen and paw at his shoulder.

“uh huh, please.” you whine desperately, your hand rising up to fist chris’ soft hair as he grazes his teeth against the bruise that started glooming on your neck, soothing the sting with a kitty lick. you barely recognize yourself; you’ve become so needy for your daughter’s boyfriend that you can’t even think about any of the consequences. and in some way, it makes the whole situation just seem better.

you don’t know how you’ve landed in this position, nor how you’ve ended up in your bedroom; you, with your face smushed against your pillow and your ass up high, kisses being placed all over your thighs. it’s been ten minutes since chris has had you in this position, soaked panties pooling at your ankles while he teased you everywhere except where you needed him most.

“chris,” you whimpered, lifting your head up to glance over at him from your shoulder, “please.” you both know what you’re begging for, but chris wants to hear it.

he wrapped his hands around your waist to maneuver you closer to his face and spit directly onto your drooling cunt, smirking as you squeal, “what do you want, then? tell me and i’ll give it to ya’.”

it wasn’t a lie that chris brought out the slut in you.

“i want your mouth . . and your fingers.” you whined quietly, pouting while you wave your ass around when the throbbing in your clit started getting unbearable.

your brain cancels out whatever comes out of chris’ mouth next the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, he gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. it doesn’t take him long to succumb his need as he dives in, tongue lulling out to lick a thick stripe from your clit and to your hole. a groan emits from him as the taste of you spreads throughout his tastebuds. it’s like your pussy was a drug. he’s addicted to you from just one taste.

you could feel his stubble scratch along your thighs as he eats you out with vigor, his chin and the tip of his nose slick when he practically stuffs his face in between your thighs.

“oh m’god!” you squeal against your pillow as chris wraps his plush lips around your puffy nub, sucking on it like a pacifier and humming like you were the best meal he’s ever eaten.

chris finds it so amusing how you responded to his touches. whether it’d be him grazing his hand across yours, or he’d be tongue deep in your pretty pussy. you’re so sensitive and he knows you’re just seconds away from coming undone, but he’s just getting started.

he’s so messy and sloppy with your pussy; letting you coat his face in your essence and groaning lewdly while he shook his head side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. he also lets you shake your ass in his face to grind your weeping cunt the way you subconsciously liked.

“chrisss,” you whined, gasping, “‘m gonna cum.” but he’s already one step ahead, hands holding your thighs done and pulling away to spank your ass.

“nah, you’re gonna hold that shit. i’m not done with you.” and when you start huffing and whining, you get another spank, but on your pussy. a high pitched moan slips past your lips at the sting, cheeks heating up as you hear chris chuckle behind you.

when your daughter’s boyfriend puts his mouth back to work on your needy pussy, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasp. why was chris so good at eating you out?

the knot in your lower stomach already starts forming when his lips wrap around your nub once again, thighs shaking around chris’ head as your orgasm quickly approaches.

“oh!—i can’t hold it. i-i gotta cum.” you huff nasally. you wrap your arms around your pillow and hug it tightly against your body, the motions on chris’ tongue gradually getting more calculated. and when he doesn’t respond to you, you take it as a sign to let go.

chris let his tongue circle your clit at a relentless pace before then he felt it; he heard you. a cry of his name. you coated his tongue, muscles clutching as your ass practically shook against his face. you were shaking—your legs couldn't stop twitching. if it weren't for his firm grip on your thighs, you wouldn't have been able to withstand so much.

with a final lick to your sensible core, he drew out a whimper from you. you had to reach out and push his head away when you started getting overstimulated.

it’s been so long since you had a proper orgasm, and you could barely take it. you’re whining under your breath as you try to come up from your high, face shoved into the pillow to avoid chris seeing you so slutted out.

a large hand comes up to cup your butt, squeezing the fat in his palm before letting go to give you a slap. he bites away a smirk when you gasp and look over your shoulder with a glare.

“think i’ll be able to fuck you better than men your age?” you know chris was challenging you, but frustration had been bubbling up inside you ever since his nonstop teasing.

you sneak a small smile at him, “maybe? i’m not sure.” and when you hear the shuffle of his zipper and his belt unbuckling, you couldn’t be too sure that you’d grow to be right.

“yeah, we’ll fuckin’ see ‘bout that.” he mumbles, scoffing out a small laugh as he strokes his leaky cock and huffing under his breath. chris uses his free hand to cup your waist when he thrusts forward to come in contact with your puffy cunt, his pink mushroom tip moving in languid motions over your sore nub. your brows pinch together at the feeling of his heavy dick being hugged in between your folds, so lost in the euphoria that you fail to hear your phone ringing until chris leans away to grab your phone.

“wha—“

a wicked smile forms on his face as he taps you on your shoulder, bringing the screen splayed out as your daughter’s name up to your face. when you lock your eyes with it, you gasp and hurriedly place your palms flat against the bed, shooting up and attempting to grab your phone from chris before he pulled it back from you.

“don’t answer it!” but it’s too late.

“hello? mom?”

your eyes widen as chris snickers quietly behind you.

“o-oh,” you clear your throat, fighting a small moan that dared to slip out when he starts to create soft, chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly backed your hips up against him, but you knew if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop, “hi—hi honey.”

“umm,” eve stutters out a laugh, “are you okay?”

your words get caught in your throat when chris reaches down to fist his dick and tap his leaking tip against your drooling pussy, squeezing your eyes shut as you pray that the wet pat pat pat didn’t pick up on the other line.

“‘course i am . . . w-why wouldn’t i be?”

“okayyyy, if you say so,” she snickers once again, “but could you facetime me? i want to show you this top i’d think you lik—“

“no!” and when there’s a long pause, you continue hurriedly, “sorry, baby. i just mean . . i can’t right now.”

“uhh, okay. i’ll just buy it for you some other time.”

“yeah. thanks, honey. i’ll s-see you later, ‘kay?” you tuck your lip between your teeth as chris uses his dick to play with your needy pussy.

“. . . sure? bye m—“

chris ends the call for you, throwing your phone somewhere across your room with a cocky smile.

he chortles, “jesus, you’re bad at lying. just tell your daughter you’re ‘bout to get fucked by her boyfriend.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow, “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

your eyes rolled—yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane. perhaps he was. who would even seduce their girlfriend’s mother anyway . . . ?

to be frank, you couldn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

you would find yourself with your ass perked up high in the air, arms folded over each other as chris mercilessly pounds into your sweet pussy, relishing in how you squealed and whined at the pure stretch and length of his cock. you’ve always known he’d be big; those grey sweatpants gave him no mercy on him, but to have him deep inside you, he felt so much more bigger.

“look at you, takin’ my cock like a big girl.” it’s ironic, considering how he’s almost a decade younger than you, but chris really was proud of you. the minute he started sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance, you were immediately running away and gasping that he wouldn’t fit. but with a little work, he’s got you moaning and all fucked out for him.

chris playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy, his fingers plucking the fabric of your tanktop and sliding it further, further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples. of course you just happened to not have a bra on.

“c-chris,” you moaned, body shaking and bouncing with every hard thrust your daughter’s boyfriend gave you. it’s so sudden—in just seconds, he’s had you with your back flush to his bare chest, his hand around your throat and your palms flat on your bed to fuck you impossibly deeper. you felt your back arch off his back and it didn’t take long for him to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper.

“feel good, honey?” chris mocks lowly against your ear, using a hand to cup your bouncing tit and lightly pinch your nipple. he wraps that arm around your torso to keep you steady before his free hand slithers down in between your thighs to catch your clit in his fingers. he rubs soft motion on your sensitive nub and immensely watches your face contort into something pretty and fucked out, “take this dick like a good girl, baby. c’mon, i know you can.” he groans against your ear.

he keeps fucking you like that until your arms give out and you can’t hold yourself up anymore, letting you hide your arms under the pillow and lay your chest flat against the bed. chris leans down to watch your sweet cunt swallow up his cock each time he pulls away, a creamy white ring forming on the thick base. he grabs onto the fat of your ass and smiles in awe as he gawks at the way you fuck yourself back onto him eagerly, your ass clapping against his pelvis noisily.

eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch—it was so erotic, the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for chris; the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again. to chris, though, it was purely music to his ears.

“chris—chris!” you cried out with a squeal, practically a warning before you tense up, hips rapidly twitching as you cum around chris’ dick. white floods your vision when he fucks himself into slower and deeper, letting you ride out your orgasm until you calm down and grow lax against his hold.

god, this was so wrong.

“fuuuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” chris groans as his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hole tightens around his cock. his release vastly approaches and just within seconds, you’re getting filled up to the hilt. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. he shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you slowly whined your hips to milk him for what he’s worth.

“atta girl.” chris purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he leans down to kiss you from over your shoulder. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of blue that looked like it had a story to tell . . .

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you both left your bedroom, you limping down the stairs with chris’ help. but what you don’t realize is how your daughter is already home, sitting down on the couch and busying herself with a movie.

eve spots you both with a smile, you and chris both scrambling apart with bewilderment sketched across your faces. she snickers at you.

“why were you guys upstairs?”

you glance at chris, who somehow had a solemn look on his face, and back at your daughter, “i, uh . . . i was showing him the bathroom.”

“oh . . okay. wellll, i bought you some clothes, i’ll go put them up in your room!” and then she’s getting off the couch, walking up to chris to cup his cheek and place a kiss on his lips. it momentarily brings disgust to you, but you swallow it down when he glances at you.

“you good?” chris chuckles under his breath.

you smile back at him, “. . yeah.”

you don’t know if you’re starting to regret it, or if you want more, but you don’t get more time to think it through when your daughter calls your name from upstairs.

“erm. mom? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff on your bed? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before chris nudges you to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s, uh, mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

eve giggles, “aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, feeling yourself break into a sheepish sweat before you let out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your daughter mutters, hearing her footsteps across the floor. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall—adding a followup of her yelling out her boyfriend’s name, “wait a minute . . .” and she glances down near the floor. “aren’t these your boxers, chris?”

[tarysande]

There are a couple more Garrus-Vakarian-related hills I'm willing to die on.

Maybe this particular bit of fanon has faded over the years, but there used to be a lot of insistence that Garrus is young and somehow inexperienced when he meets Shepard. Canon doesn't really support this. Turians start their mandatory service at 15. Garrus has at least a decade of experience. Even if he's 2-4 of years younger than Shepard (according to Patrick Weekes), he's got at least as much field experience as she does by dint of the difference in turian and human "enlistment" ages.

Garrus is really damn good at his job at C-Sec. You don't give the Case of Investigating the Rogue Spectre to a greenhorn. You give it to your best, most tenacious agent. Pallin may not always approve of Garrus's actions, but that doesn't actually stop him from putting Garrus on the tough case. Also, we don't know much about how C-Sec works but we do know a bit about how the turian hierarchy works, and we know C-Sec was essentially a turian initiative. That means it's a meritocracy where failure reflects on the superior, not the one who failed. So, in roughly a decade (Shepard's 29 in ME1; I always think of Garrus as about 27), Garrus has not only done shipboard military service, but he's also risen to be one of C-Sec's top investigators; Pallin wouldn't risk having Garrus's "failure" reflect poorly on HIM otherwise. I'd say that actually makes Garrus as remarkable in civilian law enforcement terms as Shepard is considered to be within the ranks of the Alliance military.

Of course Garrus was scouted by the Spectre program. And honestly, if his dad hadn't stepped in, I think Garrus would have become a Spectre, no problem. Especially for a turian, he's cut from precisely the cloth the Spectres would be looking for: extremely skilled, extremely capable, and--most importantly--he's a turian not just able but willing to work outside the chains of command that turians are taught from birth to revere and be loyal to above all else. This is the reason Pallin is leery about Spectres: he's a good turian. Good turians follow straight lines; they don't carve out their own paths.

Garrus's dad's not dumb, and he's not cruel, and he, too, rose to the top of the C-Sec hierarchy. He took one look at his kid, I think, and said, "I love my child, but I'd say it's a 50-50 chance he ends up a shooting-first-asking-questions-later Spectre like Saren Arterius, and I don't want to see that happen." Yeah, he uses his parental influence to try and jam square-peg-Garrus into round-hole-C-Sec and Garrus resents him for it, but there's no way he did it just to stop his son from getting his way or because he doesn't like Spectres. I expect Vakarian Sr. had to clean up more post-Spectre-interference messes than we can possibly imagine. But we also know he and Alec Ryder were pals later.

So the importance of what Garrus learns from a Paragon Spectre Shepard is this: You can't just do what you want and claim the ends always justify the means. That's what Saren does. Over and over again. Garrus's code and his idealism and his sense of justice and his ability to work alone should make him a great Spectre, actually, but he needs Paragon Spectre Shepard's actions to show him the lesson he tells her he's learned during ME1: "If the people I'm sworn to protect can't trust me... well, then I don't deserve to be the one protecting them." (And the seed of Archangel was planted.) I think for the first time he realizes that even though he believes his sense of justice to be correct, it doesn't matter for shit if he can't show others why that's so. And that's where the trust comes in. (Also, ow, the extra level of importance this gives their exchange where she tells him she trusts him and he tells her she's about the only friend he has left is... a lot. Cool, cool. I'm totally fine. Nothing to see here.)

When Shepard asks him what happened on Omega, he replies, "My feelings got in the way of my better judgement." Something tells me that this never happens to "good" turians, which just makes the line so much more devastating. And although the lesson some might take away from this is "feelings bad; no feelings ever," the "grey" that Garrus has to learn to deal with is precisely the grey of recognizing feelings, validating them even, but not acting on them until they've been examined. (Which is why my Shepard stands between him and Sidonis; she doesn't give a shit about Sidonis. But Garrus has refused to process his own feelings of failure and self-loathing, so they have to take the therapy session to the Citadel and deal with it there.)

Ahh yes. The mountain range of character analysis.

[jenscx]

DAYLIGHT — yu jimin smau

park y/n is known for many things. she’s known as a pretty streamer, a popular entertainer and a hothead when it comes to video games. it’s unfortunate that her rash personality erupts when she meets yu jimin in an overwatch match.

status loading... in progress!

# tags fluff, angst, influencer!jimin x streamer!reader, enemies to lovers, cursing, gamer!reader, toxic behaviour (in game), kys jokes, suggestive themes more to be added!

featuring aespa, lesserafim (chaewon, yunjin, sakura), ex-izone members (minju, yena, hyewon)

important ! this fic is not an accurate portrayal of the kpop idols mentioned. everything stated is fiction.

characters e-girls | battle bus

00. prologue

01. reported

02. who’s that

03. degration kink

04. lying ass

05. shane dawson doc

06. WRONG KIM

07. the boy is mine

08. virgin activity

09. mentally insane

10. battleships

11. d-day [half-written]

12. sugar mama

13. separation anxiety

14. miss me

15. thinking bout you [half-written]

16. a few words

17. league of losers

18. dating rumours?

19. happy pride month!

20. PEANUT BUTTER

21. june vlog!

22. 163cm dwarf

23. inner alpha

24. FUCKASS ANIME FANS

bonus. is this easy mode?

25. fawking joe king

26. ratrina

27. la seduce

28. double it

29. digital footprint

30. inside out 2

31. wolf in her

32. bigfoot sighting

33. date (not clickbait) [half-written]

34. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

35. OPERATION!

36. a situation.

37. suicide postponed

38. dawgmaster

39. poll time!

40. damn cigarette

41. #SAVEMINJEONG2024

bonus. miss twilight sparkle

42. apologies and reunions

43. dot dot dot

44. anger management

45. regina george

46. comic con dupe

TAGLIST ! @imahallucination11 @wallfl9wer @seullovesme @twicesserafim @klvarchives @rinapomu @pandafuriosa60 @jisooftme @cwpiqwon @yoontoonwhs @xen248 @r4cjh @dni-unavailable @yukianism @i3lia @ryujinsdimple @httpisaoki @haerinsloverr @masuowo @multiliker @edenzeepy @1luvkarina @yeetaberry127 @saysirhc @somedaydream @sixflame438 @drvirgus (closed)

[ma1dita]

said he likes crazy

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 2.1k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's been avoiding you since your first kiss. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS, BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY guys i didnt sleep for this pls tell me its ok

(posted 1/29/24, beta’d by the lovely ellie @lixzey )

—

He’s been avoiding you. 

To be specific, Luke’s been running away from you. Typical son of Hermes, and a typical teenage boy at that. But if anyone’s asked you what’s up (which, they all have, after almost 4 years of seeing you two not go a day without bickering), it’s just easier to say you’ve been busy.

Okay, so perhaps you’ve been avoiding him too.

Annabeth clocked you as soon as you turned tail after almost bumping into him after archery practice. Damn children of Athena; it’d be nice if they weren’t so perceptive sometimes.

“What did he do this time?” she pipes up, filling the silence of the Big House. It’s late now, and the cabin counselors’ meeting just ended.

“Seeing as you’re the one helping me with the paperwork tonight and not him, you can take a good guess, Annie,” you sigh.

Honestly though, who the fuck kisses someone senseless and then runs away? (Luke Castellan, that’s who.) You weren’t sure what to make of it. You’re a daughter of chaos, after all, not love. But if there’s anyone who can read your emotions better than yourself, it’s him. 

Annabeth stares at her idiot brother through the window as he wanders in the grass outside the Big House.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s just…being Luke,” you say, blinking slowly as you shuffle through the last of the files you need to put on your dad’s desk before you mutter, “I’m just having a bad day.”

A noise of concern makes its way up Annabeth’s throat. You haven’t had a bad day in a while, in all honesty, not one that makes you act like this, admittedly not one that makes you act like you— the daughter of Dionysus, god of insanity, and not the daughter of Mr. D, camp director.

It was just a bad day until it turned into a bad week, and the voices in your head were starting to get loud without Luke distracting you. Because that’s what he ultimately is, a distraction from your camp duties. 

There’s so much to do and so little time, however, that you hide away your microexpressions that seem to be clawing at you from the inside. The anger, the mania, the hurt. If you unleash it, only the gods can predict how much of camp would be affected by your ‘outbursts’, as your dad likes to call them. Not like you had a choice in the matter. Your days of wreaking havoc are behind you, now presenting yourself as the stellar star of the Camp Half-Blood show. It’s almost a one-woman production with you picking up after your father and trying to tame the traits he passed down.

Thanks for that, D. 

So you give and you give and you give—all your attention and time and effort into keeping camp upright, into being the perfect daughter, that at the end of the day, you’ve drained yourself of who you are with who you try to be.

You look at your tired reflection in the window, before your eyebrow raises at the sight of Luke blending in with the shadows of the tree he’s leaning against. Idiot.

“Annie, would you mind…”

“Yeah, I’ll do cabin checks myself. Might drag your brother to do them with me,” she smiles, patting your arm before grabbing her bag.

“If he complains, let me know. Pollux has heard me bitch enough today.” The small girl raises an eyebrow at that, biting her tongue from responding. You chewed out a lot of people today, acting extra uptight and demanding of the counselors to “just do the right thing.” It was almost insufferable, but despite you trying to hold it in, your emotions bled into their own. Everyone was agitated by the end of the meeting, filing out quickly with biting words and hot tempers. You couldn’t help but notice Luke led them all out of there, and they also somehow got the feeling that he was to blame. 

Smiling at Annabeth in thanks, you watch her walk out to Luke before punching him in the stomach as he grimaces, meeting your violet gaze through the window as he raises a hand. It’s hard to tell if it’s to signal a truce or his embarrassment, but he trudges the way up the path and the door creaks open.

“Heard you were having a bad day,” he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. You look at him from the corner of your eye as you continue to write down the weekly to-dos and organize papers for your dad to sign and send back to Zeus.

“Why are you still here, Castellan?”

“So we’re back to that? I thought…” his voice trails off at the sound of his last name, not Luke, not angelface, or anything in between, and both of you are unsure how to proceed. Neither of you have done this before, at least not with each other. You tilt your head to the side, daring him to speak, and it reminds him of a week ago, you bathed in sunlight when he leaned in and kissed you. Though if he did that right now, he’s not sure how you’d react. 

“It’s just a bad day,” you whisper in defeat, lilac eyes wilting in front of him like an overwatered flower.

He realizes then that he cares for you more than he knows how to. And Luke knows what it means when you’re having a bad day.

There’s a deranged look in your eye, a subtle eye twitch and clench of your jaw that is almost insusceptible to the average demigod, but he knows you’re on edge, having taunted you mercilessly until you scream, cry, laugh, or all of the above. But most of all you look tired and in need of someone who knows how it feels to be underappreciated. 

“D’s a great dad to the twins. But I just feel like… maybe he wasn’t meant to be mine,” you whisper, rolling your tongue against the front of your teeth to push back the sob a 14-year-old version of you would let out deep in the dark of cabin 11, having been there for months and knowing Dionysus was your father and waiting for him to see you. To know you. 

“Giving me a hard time about all of this,” you say, hands gesturing to the things you have to prepare for him by morning. You’re overworked, underpaid, and definitely not appreciated— and Luke decides he hates your dad for what he puts you through, not just as a shitty camp director but as a shitty dad. He’s learned to live with the hurt—to use it to fuel his vengeance for how he plans to make the world better. But your ambition makes you change yourself constantly to try to be better. Both fatal flaws are fueled by the ignorance of your fathers. He knows the feeling all too well.

He knows you.

“What do you need?” he asks simply, stepping closer to your form hunched over the desk.

“I can do it, you know. D’s wrong about me,” you whisper, and the words come out sounding so desperate for him to believe the performance you always put on that you avert your eyes.

He doesn’t need to be convinced; instead, he holds his arms out waiting for you to let you make the next move. Luke is neither a fool nor a knave— there are no tricks here, no hidden agenda as he watches you try to compose yourself with a deep breath instead of showing him the real you. The one who’s beneath the mask of being head counselor, your father’s saving grace, and the one who carries her responsibilities like Atlas carries the weight of the sky.

“I know you can. You always have. You really think I’m here to help you file paperwork?”

“Will you let me?” Whether he meant sharing the workload or being there for you, you wouldn’t dare to ask. It’s all the same, anyway—laying yourself bare for someone to peek into your mind and have them not laugh at it.

Suddenly you speak, and the intensity of your tone makes him straighten his posture. 

“Sometimes… Do you ever feel the need to just…”

“What?” He reaches out to tug your hair, and in the dim light, he can see the bloom of your cheeks. You’re shy, and Luke thinks you look soft like this, wary of how he perceives you.

“I shouldn’t.” Fuck the gods. He can see the thought form in your eyes, the heat of your stare tearing through his, and his lips pull into a smirk.

“What was that, Trouble?” 

“Luke, don’t be an asshole…” You say warily, biting the inside of your cheek. There’s no way you’re going down in the history books for cursing the gods because Luke Castellan of all people made you. 

“I thought you liked me like that,” he’s grinning now, and grabbing your chin lightly, mouthing the words to echo your thoughts. 

Fuck the gods.

“Fuck.” you whisper, before your voice fails you, your eyes closing both from his touch and the genuine fear of the heavens falling down from the sacrilege falling from your lips.

“Louder,” he whispers, pulling your face up close to his, “come on, you used to be more fun, Trouble. I believe in you.”

“Fuck!” you say louder and he’s whispering in your ear, urging you to toe the line between perfect child and degenerate.

“Say it again.”

“FUCK! FUCK THE…” you yell before you sigh exasperatedly, eyes widening as you feel the breath release from your chest before your head lolls onto his shoulder. 

“Gods, you’re fucking insane, Castellan.”

He laughs lowly, and it sounds as sweet as sin. Your smiling lips make an imprint on his collarbone, and he wishes they would sear themselves on there for the rest of eternity.

“Hey, I get it from you. Feel better?”

To be seen is a fickle thing. But to be known is something more intimate, and nothing will be able to erase the connection you both share—fatal flaws and all. There are things you can’t change about people, what they are at their core, and so he takes what you hate about yourself with both hands and pulls you towards his chest until you settle against him with a sniffle. Luke tilts your chin up again, a rough thumb wiping away evidence of your watery smile. He thinks he sees a glimpse of a past you—a younger one that dyed his socks purple to make him feel like he belongs here. And he knows now that he does belong with you, right here as he holds you in the quiet of the Big House.

“Ugh, I’ll kiss you later, I still have to finish up here. You’re not off the hook, angelface.” You sigh, pushing away from him before he tugs you back, your feet stumbling as you roll your eyes at his impish expression.

“Let me make it up to you then, Trouble.”

“What, so you run away again?” you scoff, snickering at the sight of his ego being taken down a notch.

“I’ve just….I don’t know how to do all of this with you. Guess I’m worried it won’t meet your expectations, Miss Head Counselor.” A boyish sort of bashfulness crosses his features, and he’s twirling a piece of your hair in his hands like spinning silk.

“I just hope you never stop surprising me. That’s all I ask.”

Your hand touches his wrist lightly, and he sighs like you’ve already taken his breath away.

“I keep my promises. Do you?”

“Who said a kiss was a promise? I meant it as a threat,” you laugh before he’s pressing your hips into the table, nose nudging against yours and suddenly work is off the table for the rest of the night.

You on the table, however, well... that could be negotiated.

“I knew something was wrong with me when your so-called threats got less scary and more sexy,” Luke teases, running a finger on the side of your cheek. His breath tickles your lips, and you can imagine the rage your father would feel if he caught the two of you in his office like this. Besides the blatant defiance, you briefly wonder if your rebellion would get him to respect you more. An interesting thought.

“You’re absolutely terrible. I need to get this done… The gods don’t wait for us.”

A weak sigh leaves your mouth as your brain is already riddled with thoughts of him and he closes the gap between your lips.

“They can wait until morning. For now, you’re mine.”

—

“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first — bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you —

Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like. (via swxrn-in)”

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[bweeeb]

"GIRLFRIEND"

Carmen Berzatto x Reader (you)

( @softmullet : i want me some tender love from carmy 😩 ) Notes: I believe that if things had gone well in the last episode of the second season, it could easily have gone something like this, I hope this story is enough for you, and i hope u like it. Thank's for the request

Summary: When Carmen's "girlfriend" comes up at the opening of The Bear, at the end of the night they both realize something

It was family and friends night at the restaurant, the first service at The Bear, and Carmen couldn't be more anxious about it. He wanted everything to go well, to serve good service, good food, a good place, he wanted it to be perfect. You went with your friends, Melissa and Isis, to the opening of The Bear. Although Carmen was aware that you might be there, since he was the one who invited you, he hadn't thought you would actually go.

— Cousin, your girlfriend is at table 29.

Richie, who was in charge of the dining area, approached Carmen working in his station. — She's your girlfriend already, right cousin?

— She's here? Carmen asked, not stopping his food preparation.

— Damn, man, figure it out and make her your girlfriend quick. That's what Richie said before leaving the kitchen, leaving Carmen thoughtful

You and Carmen started going out frequently four months ago. Your confidence in what you did, your smile, and the unusual comfort you transmitted to Carmen made anxiety spread through his body. But for the first time, it wasn't the bad kind of anxiety—it felt good to be near you.

Sitting at table twenty-one, you smiled towards Richie, who approached the table with a bottle of wine and a smile on his lips.

— Y/n. Richie said your name as he stopped beside you before continuing; — Excuse me, girls, would you like some wine? I know it's what you like.

— Hi, Richie. You greeted him and your friends smiled.

— Yeah, I’d love that. Isis smiled at Richie following Melissa’s confirmation beside her.

— How sweet, thank you.

— Thanks. — you thanked politely as you saw him filling your glass. — Things are really good around here, dude. Carm didn't tell me it was all so fancy.

— What do you mean, cousin didn't show off with those fancy cutlery?

Richie teased Carmen, causing laughter from your lips and two mischievous smiles directed at you by your friends.

— Yeah, I don't know, I guess he didn't want to involve me in this. You said shrugging your shoulders as you took a sip of your wine.

— I think he wants to involve you in everything, Y/n Bear. He’s just not good at it... — the older man nodded and started stepping back — Now I’ll let you enjoy the night, if you need anything, I’ll be at your disposal. He said before disappearing into the dining area.

— Oh no, stay. Isis murmured watching Richie leave while biting her thumb distractedly.

— He's too old for you. You said laughing out loud and snapping Isis out of her daydreams.

— Regardless, sister. Your boyfriend’s friend is hot.

— Carmen is not my boyfriend. You huffed looking at the glass in your hand.

— Oh really, you’re still at this? You sleep at each other's houses, fuck like rabbits, and I feel like the loneliest person in the world when I see you two. What are you? Friends? No way. Melissa said rolling her eyes before laughing and drinking her wine.

— We’ve never talked about it. He didn't grow up with a good image of relationships, I don't want to force anything, sometimes he just wants a fling.

— Right, a fling of a hundred and twenty-one days. Wake up, baby, you heard the hottie, he wants to involve you in everything. Isis said sighing.

— But what if he doesn't want to... he probably didn't even want me here. You said laughing nasally, remembering Carmen’s vague mention a week ago, saying you could come if you wanted to.

— Believe me, Y/n, you have enough personality for him to want you! — Melissa smiled leaning back in the chair — I bet twenty bucks he’ll come here just to bring your dish because he’s totally in love with you.

— As if he had time, this is a restaurant and it’s full, Mel...— You said laughing again.

— I think he’ll come, I mean, would he really not? Isis shrugged drinking her wine again.

— Alright, let’s see...

Not long after, the conversation that you three had started was interrupted by the huge smile on Melissa’s face. The dishes were placed in front of you and Carmen's eyes fell on you like a magnet.

— Hi.

— Hi, everything is really good, Carm. Congrats.

— Thanks. Uhm, yeah...— Carmen said and at that moment he was grateful not to have anything special to present on your plate because you were too beautiful for him to focus on anything other than you at that table. — You look beautiful and I hope you all have a good time. Enjoy! He said stepping away from the table with a glance before disappearing back into the kitchen.

— He’s obviously busy and still came to say hi to you. Melissa smiled and groaned while throwing her head back.

— You look beautiful, that’s the compliment I’ve heard the most on all my dates and this was the first truly sincere one I’ve heard, my god. Isis said smiling while looking at you, smiling at your plate.

— hmm, yeah, he’s sweet.

— I want my money. Melissa said before starting to eat like you and Isis.

°°°

The end of the night had come, the place was less noisy, the last customers were leaving, the kitchen was starting to be cleaned and that meant Carmen was less hectic if everything had gone well.

You had left Isis and Melissa behind in the dining area with Niel and Richie while you looked for Carmen.

Passing by Sydney who was leaning on the counter, you stopped to look at her for a while.

— Hey, Syd. Are you alright? You asked and received a nod from the girl who seemed tired.

— Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just...you know...all of this was crazy and it was my first night working like this for real, so... it’s a lot. She vented and you sighed agreeing.

— I could say I understand but in reality, I don’t understand the pressure you guys have in the kitchen, but I can guarantee you did a great job, everything I ate, the service, everything was great. You said and Sydney smiled at you, understanding why Carmen liked you, it was simple.

— Thanks, Y/n. I think you should tell him that, he’s a bit worried.

— Where is he? You asked, twisting your lips.

— Office. Sydney gestured with her hands, showing you the way and with a grateful smile, you went after Carmen who was found by you sitting in the office, now Natalie’s, with his hands on his head.

— Hey, Chef. You said, standing at the office door waiting for him to let you in.

— Hi. Carmen responded, adjusting his posture and freeing his lap for you to sit on his thighs. There was the confirmation you needed.

— What’s wrong? You asked, sitting on him and wrapping your hands around his neck.

— I think I could have done better. He murmured

— You can always do better, Carmy, but what you guys did here today was great. The girls were delighted even with the damn glasses on the table. You murmured and saw Carmen close his eyes, closing his arms around your waist. — You know I wouldn’t lie to you if I had any complaints about this place, and I can assure you that things, at least out there, were great. How were they here?

Your voice was calming for Carmen who forced himself to open his eyes and look at the beautiful thing in his arms. — We should be more organized.

— Hm, things like that always happen, you guys will get the hang of it, this was the first service, my love.

And there was the nickname that made Carmen feel like a prematurely lovestruck teenager.

— I’m really happy you liked it, beautiful. Carmen murmured, bringing a hand to your left cheek.

— You. Should. Relax. — With each pause, you planted a peck on Berzatto’s lips. Once you felt him still tense.

— Why are you so perfect, fuck. Carmen whispered, sucking on your neck and pulling you in for a longer, more heated kiss. — Did you like the wine you drank? He asked, pulling your body closer to his.

— It was you who chose it. Now it makes sense. You laughed softly, playing with the curls of the man below you. — I loved it, thanks.

— I'm happy that you came, I thought you wouldn’t. Carmen admitted, which made you make a confused face.

— I almost thought you didn’t want me to come. You murmured, embarrassed, and Carmen frowned, pulling your face to look at him.

— I love when you’re near me, please, stay close. He asked with conviction in his words.

— Okay, I will.

— Listen, I-I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/n. But I want to do this right...— Carmen started and before he could finish you stopped him, agreeing.

— I love you, Carmy. You asking me to be your girlfriend or not, it’s okay, we don’t need to do this like it’s a race. You agreed softly, looking into his eyes until the mood was broken by Richie shouting from the other side of the kitchen:

— Allright, cousin, enough of the mushiness. We need to close this restaurant. The older man appeared in the doorway and looked at you two with a bored face. — Didn’t know we could have sex at work.

— Shut up. Carmen said while you got up from his lap and Richie disappeared from your sight.

— Hey, want to sleep over? I’ll finish quickly. Carmen offered and you smiled, nodding your head gently.

— Sure. You said watching him leave the office and come back in a second.

— And hey, I love you too.

---

Requests are open ✨

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

29 / 2.1k / soap soulmate au, part 6

...

Ghost looks up as Soap storms out of the weapons closet.

"Still herself, I take it?" Ghost asks.

"She's a stubborn pain in the ass is what she is."

As expected. Soap misses the dry amusement that crinkles the corners of Ghost's eyes very slightly. "Didn't talk, then," Ghost says.

Soap scowls. "Not a goddamn word we can use. She won't listen to reason. Thinks she can face down an army. Dense, irritating--"

"Strong-willed," Ghost says.

"To a damn fault. Canny see what I'm trying to do for her. I'm-- she's--" Soap can hardly articulate his frustration. He's got this sick feeling in his stomach like he's been kicked in the gut hard enough to make him hurl.

It's not just you being too stubborn to give up the intel. What happens when you’re freed? You’re not going to stick around. What if Graves snaps his fingers and you go right on back to him?

Soap lets out a rough sigh. "There's more than Graves keeping her from talking. I don't like it."

"You've got a plan?" Ghost guesses.

Soap nods. "Aye. I need to talk to Laswell--"

"Done." Ghost produces a beige folder and drops it into Soap's hands. "Had her look into it for you."

"I'll be damned." Soap flips through the pages in the folder. "Christ. Bloody thin file." He fans the pages inside like a flipbook as if checking for extra pages. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Not much there to dig up."

"Then she's gotta be missin' some--" Something catches Soap's eye as he skims through, and he pauses, lingering on a photo.

Hell's fuckin' bells.

"Think that'll help?" Ghost asks.

"I'd wager so."

"Good. You goin' back in?"

"Aye.” Soap folds the file into his jacket and gives Ghost a good-natured fist bump to the arm. Then he brushes past him, knocking into his shoulder.

Ghost grabs Soap’s arm again before he slips past. "We don't have much time. Price wants to move on Alejandro. Says if you can't get the intel, we go in blind. Rodolfo leads."

Soap sets his jaw. "How long?"

"Three hours. Tops." He claps a firm hand on Soap's shoulder and turns to leave. "Get some sleep."

…

A moment later, the metal grate door slides open. You straighten back up and steel yourself again.

There's something different about the way Soap carries himself this time. He's not wound as tightly. But the way his eyes settle on you is... odd. The shift in his expression puts you on edge.

He sits down across from you. "We've not got much time. If talking gets us nowhere, we'll try something else."

You lean back, mirroring his posture. "You gonna torture me?”

“That what you’re expecting?”

“Maybe. You ever tortured someone before?"

"Aye. Can't say I care for it, but I know how if that's what this takes." He examines you again with that sharp gaze. You don't feel like he's undressing you with his eyes anymore. It's more like he's searching for something. "Why ask? You want me to put my hands on ya?"

You ignore the mental image that imprints. "I want you to waste your time."

Soap smirks. "What I wouldn't give to let you waste my time. You, me, all this animosity between us... I've got a few negotiation techniques I'd very much like to try." He leans back into the chair, his hands folded in his lap with an easy grin. "But you're no' the type to break under pressure."

"Better men than you have tried."

"Tried torturing you?" His grin tightens just slightly. "Anyone I know? Names, locations?"

Your cheeks heat up again. At that, for some reason. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can."

He produces the thin file and tosses it onto the table between you.

You look down at the papers that slide out. They're grainy and covered in redactions as if printed and bound, pulled from the deep end of some filing cabinet, scanned, rescanned, and printed again. But you glimpse your name. Your real name--the one printed on Johnny's skin, too. Your chest twists and your stomach sinks.

Soap sees the change in you and leans forward, elbows wide. He opens the file and pushes it across the table. "I'll do anything to protect you, darlin'," he says. "But I need information."

The file is everything you don't want anyone to know. But what catches your eye is that photograph. "Who else has seen this?"

"Me and Laswell. Maybe Ghost if he was feelin' nosy. Does Graves know?"

You pull on your cuffs, wanting to reach for the pages and push them away. "Captain Graves said he'd make this disappear."

Soap leans back, broad palm sliding out to touch the edge of the pages, and his expression softens for a moment. "Some things you can’t make disappear."

You look at him, twisted up with pain and anger. "So, what, if I don't talk, you're threatening to expose all this? Is that it? It won't work," you add with false confidence. "Captain Graves knows everything."

"What I want to know," Soap says, voice quiet, "is what he did with it."

"What?"

Soap leans forward again. "Did he threaten you? Did he say he’d make this go away if you worked for him, hold it over your head?"

"No!” you snap. “After this happened, I couldn't-- I was discharged from the military. I couldn't find work. He reached out to me. Said he didn’t mind if I had… history. Then he offered to have it scrubbed if I wanted.” You stare down at the papers. “He never threatened me. He helped me."

Soap lets out a breath. He was prepared to deal with something a lot worse than that. Maybe he hoped for something worse. If Graves were blackmailing you, the solution would be easy. He'd give you protection, offer to have Laswell erase that file from existence instead, CIA-style. After all, if Graves got his claws into you and onto his payroll that way, why couldn't he? Probably got you dirt fucking cheap, too. Bastard.

Part of Soap wants to press that angle. He could tell you Graves never intended to deliver on his side of the deal. But the truth is that Graves would've had little control over this. Seeing the state of the file, Graves likely did what he could to have it redacted, sealed, destroyed--but someone over his head intervened. Shepherd, maybe. There'd be nothing Graves could do.

Soap wants you more than anything, but the pain in your eyes when you look at these documents tears him up inside. He can’t manipulate you that way. Even if he got you to himself in the end, he'd never forgive himself.

"That's... that's good. He protected you." Soap crosses his arms, squeezing his fist hard around the object inside, the one he pickpocketed off Ghost a few minutes ago. Much as he hates Graves, the man kept you safe. But that's his job now.

"I don't care who you tell," you snap, suddenly full of anger and spitting fire. The sight of those pages puts you on edge. You feel like a cornered animal. "I'm not telling you a goddamn thing. Do whatever you want to me. You're no better than--"

"Am no' blackmailin' ya." Soap's expression sours. So much venom in that mouth of yours. He runs his thumb over his tightened knuckles to suppress his own temper. He's amazed at how easy it is for you to get under his skin, how you push all these buttons when he's the one who's supposed to be pulling the strings.

But he realizes how this must seem. You act tough, but you're vulnerable, exposed, and he has every reason right now to drive the knife in and twist it hard. Maybe he should. Going into the Las Almas base blind means danger for his squadmates.

Christ, he’s tired. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Darlin’, I... I know now you've done things you're not proud of. But that doesn't change anything. Not to me, not to Ghost-- hell, none of us would bat an eye. You don’t need to protect yourself anymore. I need you to talk to me. We're out of time."

He thinks this is about you protecting yourself? You shake your head. "If you’re storming the Las Almas base, you're going up against Shadows. You're asking me to help you kill my own."

"If that matters to you, then tell me how to get to Alejandro without alerting the guards. Nobody has to get hurt."

You scoff, looking away. "There's no way to do that and you know it."

"We don't have to shoot them if they stand down first."

"That's not going to happen. They'll shoot you on sight. It'll be a bloodbath."

"Not for us."

You close your eyes. "I know. That's what I'm worried about."

Soap lets out a frustrated breath. "We're going in whether you talk or not. The blood's on our hands. Not yours."

You keep your gaze angled away, clearly not believing that. "I don't see why you care about security. I don't see why you need intel at all. This is what you're good at, right? This is what 141 does. You break in doors, you kill people."

Soap grips the edge of the table. "The only thing gettin' you out of here is information. I don't care what it is or if it's useful. Price wants intel."

"I don't have it." Your voice is flat and cold. Whatever you can do to make him understand you're not worth the effort.

He leans in and grabs your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. "Then lie to me."

"What?" You stare at him, feeling pinned under that intense gaze. "Are you fucking insane?"

"Might be," A small, sly, half-smile curves his lips. "I'm also desperate, runnin' out of time, and at the end of my rope after starin' at you this long, knowin' I can't have you." He runs his thumb along your cheek. "Maybe I'm bankin' on you losin' your mind before I do."

You swallow. "You'll be waiting awhile."

He smirks. His thumb moves from your cheek to your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. "Do you think you're a good liar?"

Before you can answer, someone bangs on the metal door, rattling it. Price's voice echoes in from outside.

"Get some sleep, Soap," he calls. "We're briefing soon. Give it a rest. We’ll press her for more intel after we’ve got Alejandro back.”

Soap tenses at the sound of Price's voice. "Wasn't planning on sleepin'," he calls back.

"Wasn't a question," Price calls back. You hear him walk away.

Soap withdraws his hand, letting out a soft curse.

"Why would you give your own Captain false information?" you hiss. "You could lose your job. You could get court-martialed. Even if it worked, what if Shepherd finds out? He's still in your chain of command."

"Guess that's a risk I gotta take."

"Then what if I tell you something that gets your teammates hurt, huh?"

"Won't happen. I'll be in the front when things get risky."

"Then how do you expect me to-- if it means you're the one who's--" You huff, words failing you. "You're so goddamn thick."

"Am I? Because here I am, tryin' to make plans and get a read on you, and all you wanna do is piss me off and run your mouth. I'm learnin' a lot." He tilts his head. "In fact, it's startin' to sound like you're worried about me."

"Absolutely not."

"Could always tell me the truth. Extra insurance if you do. Maybe it’ll keep me alive."

"You don't need it," you snap.

"I think I do." He leans in, crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Got a bad feeling about this one. No Shadow worth their salt wouldn’t send us straight to hell if it meant finishing the job. Especially Graves."

You feel another pang of dread in your gut. He's right.

He watches you for another long moment. Neither of you speak.

Finally, he stands, sighing deeply as he goes to the door. "Alright."

"Are you coming back?" The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He pauses in the doorway. Then he turns back, staring at you like there's something he wants to say. He looks down at the stolen object still clutched in his hand--the key to your cuffs.

He opens the door, slipping through without another word.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / [part 6] / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Lies, damned lies, and Uber

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in PHOENIX (Changing Hands, Feb 29) then Tucson (Mar 10-11), San Francisco (Mar 13), and more!

Uber lies about everything, especially money. Oh, and labour. Especially labour. And geometry. Especially geometry! But especially especially money. They constantly lie about money.

Uber are virtuosos of mendacity, but in Toronto, the company has attained a heretofore unseen hat-trick: they told a single lie that is dramatically, materially untruthful about money, labour and geometry! It's an achievement for the ages.

Here's how they did it.

For several decades, Toronto has been clobbered by the misrule of a series of far-right, clownish mayors. This was the result of former Ontario Premier Mike Harris's great gerrymander of 1998, when the city of Toronto was amalgamated with its car-dependent suburbs. This set the tone for the next quarter-century, as these outlying regions – utterly dependent on Toronto for core economic activity and massive subsidies to pay the unsustainable utility and infrastructure bills for sprawling neighborhoods of single-family homes – proceeded to gut the city they relied on.

These "conservative" mayors – the philanderer, the crackhead, the sexual predator – turned the city into a corporate playground, swapping public housing and rent controls for out-of-control real-estate speculation and trading out some of the world's best transit for total car-dependency. As part of that decay, the city rolled out the red carpet for Uber, allowing the company to put as many unlicensed taxis as they wanted on the city's streets.

Now, it's hard to overstate the dire traffic situation in Toronto. Years of neglect and underinvestment in both the roads and the transit system have left both in a state of near collapse and it's not uncommon for multiple, consecutive main arteries to shut down without notice for weeks, months, or, in a few cases, years. The proliferation of Ubers on the road – driven by desperate people trying to survive the city's cost-of-living catastrophe – has only exacerbated this problem.

Uber, of course, would dispute this. The company insists – despite all common sense and peer-reviewed research – that adding more cars to the streets alleviates traffic. This is easily disproved: there just isn't any way to swap buses, streetcars, and subways for cars. The road space needed for all those single-occupancy cars pushes everything further apart, which means we need more cars, which means more roads, which means more distance between things, and so on.

It is an undeniable fact that geometry hates cars. But geometry loathes Uber. Because Ubers have all the problems of single-occupancy vehicles, and then they have the separate problem that they just end up circling idly around the city's streets, waiting for a rider. The more Ubers there are on the road, the longer each car ends up waiting for a passenger:

https://www.sfgate.com/technology/article/Uber-Lyft-San-Francisco-pros-cons-ride-hailing-13841277.php

Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After years of bumbling-to-sinister municipal rule, Toronto finally reclaimed its political power and voted in a new mayor, Olivia Chow, a progressive of long tenure and great standing (I used to ring doorbells for her when she was campaigning for her city council seat). Mayor Chow announced that she was going to reclaim the city's prerogative to limit the number of Ubers on the road, ending the period of Uber's "self-regulation."

Uber, naturally, lost its shit. The company claims to be more than a (geometrically impossible) provider of convenient transportation for Torontonians, but also a provider of good jobs for working people. And to prove it, the company has promised to pay its drivers "120% of minimum wage." As I write for Ricochet, that's a whopper, even by Uber's standards:

https://ricochet.media/en/4039/uber-is-lying-again-the-company-has-no-intention-of-paying-drivers-a-living-wage

Here's the thing: Uber is only proposing to pay 120% of the minimum wage while drivers have a passenger in the vehicle. And with the number of vehicles Uber wants on the road, most drivers will be earning nothing most of the time. Factor in that unpaid time, as well as expenses for vehicles, and the average Toronto Uber driver stands to make $2.50 per hour (Canadian):

https://ridefair.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Legislated-Poverty.pdf

Now, Uber's told a lot of lies over the years. Right from the start, the company implicitly lied about what it cost to provide an Uber. For its first 12 years, Uber lost $0.41 on every dollar it brought in, lighting tens of billions in investment capital provided by the Saudi royals on fire in an effort to bankrupt rival transportation firms and disinvestment in municipal transit.

Uber then lied to retail investors about the business-case for buying its stock so that the House of Saud and other early investors could unload their stock. Uber claimed that they were on the verge of producing a self-driving car that would allow them to get rid of drivers, zero out their wage bill, and finally turn a profit. The company spent $2.5b on this, making it the most expensive Big Store in the history of cons:

https://www.theinformation.com/articles/infighting-busywork-missed-warnings-how-uber-wasted-2-5-billion-on-self-driving-cars

After years, Uber produced a "self-driving car" that could travel one half of one American mile before experiencing a potentially lethal collision. Uber quietly paid another company $400m to take this disaster off its hands:

https://www.economist.com/business/2020/12/10/why-is-uber-selling-its-autonomous-vehicle-division

The self-driving car lie was tied up in another lie – that somehow, automation could triumph over geometry. Robocabs, we were told, would travel in formations so tight that they would finally end the Red Queen's Race of more cars – more roads – more distance – more cars. That lie wormed its way into the company's IPO prospectus, which promised retail investors that profitability lay in replacing every journey – by car, cab, bike, bus, tram or train – with an Uber ride:

https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSKCN1RN2SK/

The company has been bleeding out money ever since – though you wouldn't know it by looking at its investor disclosures. Every quarter, Uber trumpets that it has finally become profitable, and every quarter, Hubert Horan dissects its balance sheets to find the accounting trick the company thought of this time. There was one quarter where Uber declared profitability by marking up the value of stock it held in Uber-like companies in other countries.

How did it get this stock? Well, Uber tried to run a business in those countries and it was such a total disaster that they had to flee the country, selling their business to a failing domestic competitor in exchange for stock in its collapsing business. Naturally, there's no market for this stock, which, in Uber-land, means you can assign any value you want to it. So that one quarter, Uber just asserted that the stock had shot up in value and voila, profit!

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2022/02/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-twenty-nine-despite-massive-price-increases-uber-losses-top-31-billion.html

But all of those lies are as nothing to the whopper that Uber is trying to sell to Torontonians by blanketing the city in ads: the lie that by paying drivers $2.50/hour to fill the streets with more single-occupancy cars, they will turn a profit, reduce the city's traffic, and provide good jobs. Uber says it can vanquish geometry, economics and working poverty with the awesome power of narrative.

In other words, it's taking Toronto for a bunch of suckers.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/29/geometry-hates-uber/#toronto-the-gullible

Image: Rob Sinclair (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Night_skyline_of_Toronto_May_2009.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en