#so yeah as i said. it is Doing Things to me

[elodieunderglass]

I’m a little upset because my husband (stressed out little Englishman, old as balls) had never heard Welcome to the Black Parade. What do you mean you’ve never. Like never heard it ever. You’ve heard it, though?? and it turned out that - NO.

And he said: well i wasn’t an American child during the millennium or indeed at any point in my existence now was I? So of course I had to explain about welcome to the black parade, I mean, REALLY. Really? Really!

Anyway unbeknownst to me it CLICKED for him and he liked it in quite a normal, I-will-hear-that-song-again way and he added it to his playlist of what he fondly believes to be similar-sounding songs, which in context affected me like a blow to the back of the head. Sir; your brain. Explain it to me please.

And he was like wdym. Sounds like Queen.

And the thing is. If you are a virgin to MCR and don’t give a damn about anyone or anything and you’re a highstrung little guy who is not an American and is a million years old, and if you spent your ENTIRE teens in a healthy outdoors attitude of underage drinking and smoking and banging other teens on unsupervised hiking trips while being attacked by swans, and other worldly and mentally healthy adventures that did NOT involve being on the internet too young, so that you genuinely wouldn’t know who Gerard Way was if he leapt out from behind a mailbox and bit you suddenly;

If MCR means nothing to you at all, net zero context, net zero interest, genuinely no nostalgia or cringe or judgement or admiration because you are NORMAL,

fuck me. Sure. It DOES - fuck me: okay. You win this Dr Glass. It does - yeah actually you’re right. It’s - it sounds like Queen.

[seumyo]

bakugou “do it yourself—no—i’ll do it” katsuki.

In simple theory, you have your husband, Bakugou Katsuki, wrapped around your finger. And he can fight it all he wants, but it’s nothing if not the wholehearted truth.

“Hey, can you grab me some coffee?”

Bakugou didn’t even look up from his phone. “No. Get your own damn coffee.”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, turning your attention back to your work. You didn’t miss the way Bakugou grumbled under his breath as he stood up a few moments later. When he returned, he placed a steaming cup of coffee on your desk without a word.

You hid your smile behind the rim of the cup. “Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, glaring at you.

-

Later that afternoon, you two were sparring in the gym in the comfort of your home—courtesy to your husband insisting that it’s a non-negotiable when arranging the first designs of your dream home together. You were struggling to move one of the heavier training dummies back into its original position, and once again you had the brilliant idea of putting your theory to the test.

What’s the point of having a husband if he doesn’t let you do things like these?

You let out an exaggerated sigh and turned to Bakugou, who was wiping sweat from his brow. For a moment, you forgot what you were about to say—momentarily distracted by how good he looks, muscles glistening and all with his signature black tank top.

Goddamn, you scored a hottie.

“Katsuki, help me move this,” you called, pointing at the dummy.

“No way,” he shot back immediately. “You’re the one who moved it there, so you deal with it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, turning back to the dummy and giving it an exaggerated shove. Before you could try again, Bakugou had stormed over, cursing at the dummy under his breath. He grabbed the dummy with one hand and effortlessly dragged it back into place.

“There. Happy now?” he grunted.

Oh, so it could be resist, then actually do it, or refuse while doing it anyway.

You smiled. “Very. Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Shut up,” he growled, his ears slightly tinged with pink.

-

By the end of the week, it had become a game for you. You’d ask for the simplest things, knowing full well that Bakugou would always refuse—only to do it anyway. Maybe it’s his love language to refuse but comply nevertheless.

“Can you pass me the remote?”

“No. Use your legs.” Hands it over.

“Can you open this jar for me?”

“Do it yourself.” Opens it in one twist.

“Can you get groceries on your way home?”

“Fuck no.” What do you mean he’s already loading the grocery bags in his car?

“Can you carry my bag for a second?”

“Die. I’m not your damn pack mule.” Carries it all the way home.

-

One evening, you two were sitting on the couch of your home, eating takeout and watching a movie. You were cuddled up with a freshly ironed blanket—thanks to Bakugou, who had done the laundry yesterday while you did the ironing when everything had dried enough—poking at your food lazily. You turned to Bakugou, your head resting on the couch cushion.

“Hey, can you grab me some water?” you asked with a sweet smile.

Bakugou glared at you, pausing mid-bite, his usual scowl in place. “No. You’ve got legs. Use ‘em.”

“Okay,” you said simply, turning your attention back to the movie.

You decided that you’ll get water once you finish this specific scene.

Bakugou lasted all of five minutes before he let out a loud groan, stomping to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. He shoved it into your hands, his expression equal parts annoyed and resigned.

“There,” he grumbled. “Happy now?”

You took the glass with a smug grin. “Thanks, Katsuki. You’re the best.”

He sank back onto the couch, crossing his arms and glaring at the screen. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“You love me,” you said teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his ears turning red. But he didn’t deny it.

“Married me, too. So I don’t think you mind at all.”

“Die.”

“‘til death do we part, Kats.”

And despite all his protests, you knew the truth. Katsuki Bakugou might have sworn you’d never have him wrapped around your finger, but with every little thing he did for you—grudgingly or not—you knew you had your conclusion.

Even if it’s a little bit.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[norrisainz33]

ski trip || ln4

☆ summary: annual ski trip with lando, max and p! ft. down bad bf lando

☆ pairing: lando norris x private!nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none and suggestive and minor bad language- you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by landonorris, ln4, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, yourbff and 1,238 others

ynuser: and that’s a wrap on the 2024 season! congrats again to the mclaren team and my little gremlin boy 🧡

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landonorris: AWOOOGGAAAAA

ynuser: 😘🤍🫶🏻😔👏🏻🫣🥹

oscarpiastri: i was so scared he was going to drop it

ynuser: you and me both osco

muppet4: AWOOGA THATS MY GIRL

ynuser: not the priv too 😭

muppet4: had to make sure you knew i thought you looked hot

carlossainz55: simp 🫵🏻

ynuser: that’s him your honor

maxfewtrell: did you swipe me one of those ornaments

ynuser: yes multiple dw

lilyzneimer: prettiest girl at the party

ynuser: no baby that was you

oscarpiastri: 🫣

ynuser has posted to their story 🔒

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landonorris: thanks for not posting the strip poker pic 🫣

ynuser: HA i didn’t but i wouldn’t put it past max

maxfewtrell: let’s gooooooo

yourbff: yeeeeee i’m so excited for you

ynuser: eeek me toooooo

pietra.pilao: huge agree 🤍⛷️

ynuser: missed you sm bestie

carlossainz55: where was my invite amiga?

ynuser: mi amigo it was sent but someone said they were busy 🙄

lilyzneimer: wish we were there with you!!! next time 🤍

ynuser: next time pleaseee!! i know i just saw you at the holiday party but my god i already miss you

pietra.pilao has posted to her story

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maxfewtrell: what about me???

pietra.pilao: what about you?

maxfewtrell: 🙄

ynuser: my girl 🫶🏻🥹😍😘

pietra.pilao: i love you long time

pietra.pilao: can you just move to london with max and i

ynuser: i love you more 🤍 ill work on getting lan to move to london asap 😍

user2: serving so hard it criminal

landonorris: NO!!! that’s the love of MY life!!!!!

pietra.pilao: get in line

landonorris: god dammit i knew i should never have introduced you two

pietra.pilao: bc she likes me more?

landonorris: yes 😔

user1: omg mothers are mothering

yourbff: god i’m so in love with you both

muppet4 posted to their story

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elmatador55: this angle makes you look tall

muppet4: thanks mate! i grew a few inches 🙂‍↔️

maxfewtrell: can’t believe you made me take this to only post it on the priv ?!

ynuser: i wish we could stay like this in our little snow bubble forever

muppet4: same darling. id love to be able to spend every single second of all my time with you but it makes the time we do have that much sweeter 🤍

ynuser: very true sweet boy

muppet4: plusssss you’re coming to more races next season so it wont be as bad i promise

ynuser: starting my full time wag duties 🫡

oscinha: keepin it pg i see

muppet4: always

m4xlol: my eyes 😭

muppet4: close em 😘

landonorris has posted to his story

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iamrebeccad: as you SHOULD!

user4: any day that we get y/n crumbs is a good day

ynuser: thanks for the bag baby 😍

landonorris: anything for my world 😘

ynuser: i love you 🤍

landonorris: god say it again

ynuser: i love you forever

landonorris: mm yeah you do

landonorris: i love you too ❤️

maxverstappen1: she deserves it 😩

landonorris: you right 😔

user18: lando can you fight?

yourbff: this is the richest and bougiest thing i’ve ever seen

landonorris: lv in snow is next level

ynuser has made a post 🔒

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ynuser: how lucky i am to live this life with you 🤍

view all 57 comments

yourbff: cutie patootie

ynuser: 🥹🤍

carmenmundt: the perfect couple

ynuser: says you and georgie

landonorris: man don’t make me cry

ynuser: ur a cute crier

landonorris: it’s just bc i love you sm

maxverstappen1: he’s the lucky one y/n/n

muppet4: unbelievably lucky mate

maxverstappen1: 👏🏻

pietra.pilao: snow angel 🫶🏻

landonorris has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, mclarenf1, oscarpiastri, lancestroll, georgerussell63, and 657,235 others

landonorris: would give anything for break to never end

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maxfewtrell: heard the real estate prices are cheaper here than monaco

pietra.pilao: no it’s better in london pls

ynuser: yes lando london is quite nice this time of year i hear

landonorris: yeah no it’s not y/n

maxfewtrell: it’s actually horrible this time of year

user12: god you two are perfect

user23: Y/N CRUMBS YEEEEEE

ynuser: you and that puppy makes me want a puppy

landonorris: i can make that happen

ynuser: 👀🫵🏻🐶

mclarenf1: going to pretend we didn’t see this! you gotta get back on track soon!

user24: y/n is literally so gorgeous how did he bag such a baddie

user19: if my man don’t post me like this i don’t want him

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[clockwayswrites]

Distracting Birb! Part 28

*throws this and runs* Masterpost

“So what did you find out?” Tim asked as he spun around. He was at the computer, of course, and looked most of the way to villainy backlit by the large screens.

(Dick loved his little brother, but villainy really wouldn’t be the most surprising outcome for Tim.)

“What makes you think we found anything?” Jason answered, just to be impertinent.

Tim rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have called us all down to the Cave if you didn’t have anything.”

Jason scoffed. “You underestimate how willing I am to waste your time.”

“Boys,” Cass said calmly, ending the growing argument with just that word.

“Duke still out on patrol?” Dick asked as a distraction.

Tim glanced over his shoulder and back at the screen. “On his way back. He’ll be here in fifteenish.”

Best not to wait in case Danny woke, Dick decided. They’d be sure to fill him in. “Okay. Well, Danny was not lying, he has a lot of plants.”

“Dick managed to turn on the watering system. We’re all very proud of him,” Jason said flatly.

The siblings all golf clapped, which Dick took a dramatic bow to. “Thank you, thank you. Otherwise a pretty normal apartment. Comfortable, a little nerdy, and not fussy.”

Jason nodded. “There’s a hero—not sure if someone real or fictional—that we saw a few times. Someone called Phantom.”

Obliging, Dick sent the photo of the mug from the bathroom up onto one of the screens. Tim spun back to the computer and started searching.

“There were also a lot of medication in his cabinet; vitamins and several prescriptions also. Some of them had weird labels.”

“Damn, Dick, you couldn’t have gotten a clearer photo?” Tim asked as he squinted at the new set of images.

“As much as I hate to defend Dick,” Jason said as he added photos of his own to the screen, ‘that is a clear photo. Danny was writing in the same language along with English in a bedside notebook of his.”

“Are you in need of glasses, Drake?” Damian asked as he looked from the photos to Tim with a judgmental brow raised.

Tim flicked him off, which Dick considered telling Tim off for (Damian had enough bad habits), but was actually curious about this. “No. The text looks glitched out.’

“No,” Damian said slowly and with a scowl, “it is clear. Odd, but clear.”

“Cass?” Dick asked.

She moved a step closer to the television, head tilted. There was a long, quiet moment before she lifted her hand a gave a so-so motion.

Tim looked from her, to Damian, to the screens. “…Dick?”

“So that’s the thing, it looks wrong to me too. If I look at it too long it’s like it gives me a headache. Jason can read it though.”

Jason snorted. “That’s taking it a bit far. I feel like I should be able to read it. I can get a word here or there maybe.”

“Like it whispers,” Damian said, the quiet words oddly poetic for the youngest of them.

“…yeah, like it whispers,” Jason agreed, just as softly.

“Right, okay. Freaky language that only some of us can even see, much less read, and those who can have spent a lot of time in or around the league,” Tim said. “How concerned do we need to be able this? To we need to be concerned about this? I feel like we need to be concerned about this.”

None of them had an easy answer for Tim.

All of them were grateful for the roar of Duke’s bike interrupting the conversation as he pulled into the cave.

“What are you all looking some grim about?” Duke asked. He yanked his helmet off and took a deep breath, like he hadn’t been able to breath in hours.

It was a feeling they all got. Even a good patrol was draining and Duke had been actively on follow up over what had gone down today with the Mad Hatter. Dick tossed a towel Duke’s way and went to grab a drink for the other from the food safe fridge.

“Stuff from Danny’s place. Take a look at the screen,” Jason said.

“Danny? I thought that we liked the guy,” Duke said, accepting the drink with a grateful thank you. He drained half of it his the way to the screens. “Shit, that’s a lot of meds.”

“Take a closer look,” Jason said, though not unkindly.

Duke stepped closer to the screen.

And went alarmingly still.

Dick resisted the instinctual urge to reach out and grab him. “Duke?”

Duke gave an answering hum and turned his head, just slightly, towards Dick. His eyes never left the screen. Dick wasn’t sure if Duke had really heard him. It was Jason who ended up acting, ended up listening to that instinct. He stepped between Duke and the screen, blocking their newest brother’s view. Duke sucked in a sharp, startled breath.

“What?”

“Hey, come on, have a seat,” Jason said and guided Duke backwards into one of the chairs at the table.

Tim swiftly cleared the photos from the screen.

Duke shook his head. “Sorry, man, I don’t know what… that, huh. What did those look like to you all?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with different levels of medication in them,” Tim replied calmly. “Dick and I can’t read what’s printed on them. Damian, Jason, and maybe Cass can a little which means it might be League writing of some sort.”

Dick leaned against the table. “What did you see, Duke?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with something in them. Like whatever it was my powers were weird about it. I’d have to see them in person to know anything about why, I guess, but they were… I don’t know. But whatever that stuff was I don’t think it’s League because I don’t think it’s human. I don’t think it’s earthly.”

“Well, fuck,” Dick said with a sigh.

He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

[onehundredelevven]

Toji w/ preggy wife + out-of-this-world cravings

Toji stared at the counter. The ingredients you demanded sat before him like a challenge issued by the gods: instant ramen, whipped cream, peanut butter, and pickles. A lineup so vile it could send even the most daring chef into an existential crisis.

"Are you serious about this, or am I just getting pranked?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You sat on the couch, legs crossed, a pillow pressed against your baby bump as you gave him the most innocent look in return. "Dead serious."

"You want ramen topped with this… stuff? And you're gonna eat it."

"Yup."

Toji groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, you had to pick this moment in your pregnancy to throw curveballs at him. The man was many things—an ex-hitman, a gambler, a loving yet blunt husband—but a gourmet chef? Not so much.

Still, he got to work. He boiled water, ripped open the ramen packet, and eyed the whipped cream like it might explode if he got too close. The sound of the kettle whistling filled the silence, but your voice broke through soon after.

“Don’t forget to add peanut butter! Like a lottt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, spooning a glob of it into the pot and stirring like his life depended on it. The smell was… not great. Toji’s nose wrinkled in pure, unfiltered disgust. “You sure this ain’t gonna poison the kid?”

“It’s what the kid wants, Toji. I’m just the messenger,” you quipped.

When it was finally done—complete with pickles carefully arranged on top—Toji approached you with the steaming bowl in hand. He hesitated, watching your excited expression as you reached for it.

“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna eat this. You’re insane,” he muttered, plopping down beside you on the couch.

“Hey, you married me,” you shot back, grabbing the bowl and digging in with absolutely no hesitation.

Toji watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified, as you slurped up the ramen, the whipped cream melting into the broth in a way that should’ve been illegal. He leaned back, arms crossed, still trying to wrap his head around the scene.

“This is actually amazing,” you said between bites, offering him the spoon. “Wanna try?”

He recoiled immediately, glaring at you like you’d suggested he jump off a cliff. “Not in a million years, woman.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t knock it ‘til you try it!”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it.”

Despite his grumbling, he stayed by your side, handing you napkins, fetching water when you needed it, and even cleaning up after you finished. Disgusted or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let you handle it yourself.

Later that night, as you snuggled into him in bed, you mumbled, “Thanks for putting up with me. And the weird cravings.”

Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “Tch. Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask me to eat that crap.”

But even as he complained, you knew he’d do it all over again if it made you and the baby happy.

[sirxlla]

Whispering dirty Christmas lines in the Batboys ears 🎄

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

Dick: "Are you a candy cane? Because I’d like to lick you up and down." You said to him through comms.

"Y/N, you know everyone can hear you on comms." Dick stiffled a laugh.

"Oh, shit! Are you serious?" Embarressment and worry filling your voice.

"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. I switched our comms to private." Dick said with major confidence.

"Yeah, you must've not done it right Dumbass cause we can hear you loud and clear." Jason teases as he states through comms. Making your heart fall into your stomach.

Dick, in his embarressment stays silent the rest of patrol, you do as well. He thinks back to the comment in his heart swells proud of you for being confident enough to try to flirt with him considering usually you are fairly quiet and turned into a stuttering mess whenever he would flirt with you.

Jason: He was sitting on the couch reading a book just chilling. Something sweet about Jason is how the both of you needed space from each other on occasion but always came back to bother each other to tell each other about something that the other thought was interesting or random other things. You snuck up behind him even though he a thousand percent knew you were there before you got even close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Is your name Father Christmas? Because you look like a daddy to me." Giggling a bit as you spoke, your lips brushing against his earlobe.

"Babygirl, I'll be whoever you want as long as it makes you happy." He said with a charming smile; Something so lovely about Jason was how he could say just about anything and make it sound like smooth talking. He pulled you over the couch after setting down his book on the coffe table, sliding you into his lap facing him.

Bruce: You were in the cave filling in for Barbara as Oracle because she was feeling extremely sick this evening and Bruce wanted to give you a spin. Of course you have been flirting with him all evening.

"I need help spelling Elf. I have an E and an L. Can you give me an F?" You spouted the random Christmas pickup lines you read online cause this is exactly what Bruce intended the Batcomputer to be used for.

"I'm sorry, what?" He stopped in the middle of what he was doing on patrol.

"Seriously you just now noticed? I've been flirting with you all evening." There was a humor to your voice as you asked him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" He asked with complete confusion and disbelief.

"Yes, I'm serious." An infectious laughs escaping your lips.

"Well at least youre having fun, Darling." He stated with a smile begging to reach his lips.

Tim: Everyone was sitting down for dinner as you passed him you whispered in his ear.

"Are you the Polar Express? Because I’d like to ride you." That's all it took for him to choke on his drink his face turning bright red. Of course you just returned your seat and acted like nothing had happened.

"What'd she say?" Dick teased Tim, noticing his younger brothers bright red face.

"I don't know but he is sure definitely gonna give Rudolph a run for his money." Jason teased as well.

"My face is not red, I don't know what you guys are talking about." Tim suttered as he lied through his teeth glancing at you. Obviously you had no choice but to look at him but you famed and innocent smile like you didn't just say that until his ear.

Damian: Considering how grumpy of a man he is you kind of knew what to expect when what you flirted with him in any sort of cringey cliche sort of way but that didn't stop you from trying and the joy you felt from his reaction so you walked into the training room.

"Do you believe in kissing someone under the mistletoe? Because mistletoe is what I named my sheets." You asked Damian with a shit eating grin.

"That's the best you could come up with?" He says with a bit of an annoyed tone as he approches you. There's a glint in your eye as you try to run off before you tackles you, a smile graces his thin lips, his smile sharp and cheeky.

"Oh no, I didn't say you could leave." he says in a rather happy tone, a tone he didn't let a lot of people see. He was very mushy on occasion and he could be extremely sweet.

Masterlist

[sturniqlo]

out the window- shy!matt x shy!reader

summary: shy!matt and darlings first ever argument

cw: ANGST; argument, crying, resolved angst, FLUFF; comforting, kissing, cuddling

an: sorry this took for fucking ever, my mind just went blank when writing this, but i really loved the idea so i couldn't pass it up!

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

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

matt wasn't one to ignore darling- or anyone in general, which was weird when he had ignored several of her texts. he was supposed to pick her up thirty minutes ago. maybe he was on his way and his phone had died? she thought. she waited for another hour. matt would never do this- he would never leave her waiting.

she decided to send one last text.

darling 8:51pm

hi babe... did you forget about our date today? i've been waiting for a while🫤

matt 9:02pm

omg! i'm so sorry. i had made plans with the guys... i did forget, sorry

darling 9:03pm

oh okay, have fun then :/

matt 9:05pm

baby, don't be like that

darling 9:07pm

*read 9:07pm*

she was upset- actually she was pretty mad. how could he forget? they had this planned for weeks! she was disappointed because he forgot and left her waiting for almost two hours. they- she had booked tickets for a new museum exhibit that she wanted to visit- since the museum closed at 11pm she had gotten tickets for 9pm.

matt wasn't the biggest fan of museums, but he'd do anything for her so he just agreed to go with her. turns out he didn't go along with his words.

10:52pm

y/n was laying in bed reading her current book when she got a call from matt. she was still pretty mad about what had happened, but she picked up anyways. "hello?" she mumbled- closing her book and sitting up against her headboard. "hey, pretty. uhm- is the- is the museum still open?" he said with a slight smile on his face- she could hear his keys jingling in the background. he was most likely coming to pick her up.

she holds back a scoff. "it's about to close in a couple of minutes- i'm going alone next week, it's okay- don't worry about it." she sighs, throwing her comforter off of her. "so- i don't have to pick you up tonight?" he stops in front of his car. "no, matt." he heard the change in her voice.

"baby, are you mad at me? i said i was sorry- i forgot." he speaks, leaning against the drivers side door. "that's- that's the thing, matt. you forgot- we had this planned for weeks! and- and i even mentioned it yesterday when we were together. and you just... forgot?" her voice slightly changed. "it slipped my mind, okay?" matt tried his best to stay clam. he didn't know how to control this- they had never argued before.

yeah they had little disagreements about small things- very small things. but never like this- this felt serious. "if you didn't want to go with me you should've just said, not ignore me and make me wait for hours, knowing you weren't going to come!" matt sighs. "you should've reminded me if you really wanted me to go with you." this alone sets her off. "i should've reminded you? i shouldn't have to do that- if you really wanted to you would!"

"look- i didn't mean to, okay?" he throws his head back against the window- matt was starting to get irritated. "didn't mean to what? forget that we had plans? ditch me for your friends?" a hand ran through her hair, her eyes stung a bit and a knot formed in her throat. "i'm sorry- alright! i didn't think it would piss you off this much!" so he forgot on purpose? her grip on the phone tightened when she connected two and two together.

"not piss me off?! matt- i had bought these tickets so long ago because you said you'd go with me! i know museums aren't your thing, but you promised. do- did it not matter to you?" she whispered the last part. "baby- it's not like that... i- i didn't think. it does matter- i just- you know how i am about museums."

"but, matt. it wasn't just about the museum. it was about us spending time together. i chose the museum because it was a new fun exhibit- i thought you'd like it. we barely saw each other this week- and you're about to leave for a week." tears slowly started rolling down her cheeks. "baby.. i- i get that, but the guys called and i wasn't thinking. i thought we could go another time."

"whatever, matt. i'm going to bed." she scoffs- she had had enough of this- at this point she felt like she was repeating herself. "fine." he muttered- leaning off of his car and heading back to his dorm building. she didn't hesitate to hang up right away.

the next day

y/n woke up, got ready for the day and went downstairs to eat a quick breakfast. she had tried her hardest to forgot about last nights argument. she went about her day, she only had two classes today so it was an easy day. her headphones played her personal playlist, which was weird because she had forgotten certain songs that were in it since she hasn't played it in so long.

she walked into the coffee shop and was next in line. "hello, can i get a medium brown sugar cookie iced coffee, please. and tw- one vanilla scone. and a uhm- medium- sorry, nevermind, that will be all." her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. it was almost like muscle memory to get matt's order since you two always got iced coffee and a scone together.

heading over to their usual spot and plopped down waiting for her order. she scrolled through her emails and saw that her second and last class had been cancelled. darling thought she'd go check out the bookstore and see any new arrivals.

she opened the door and the bell above the door chimed. "welcome!" the sweet front desk lady said. "hello." darling smiled at her.

darling scanned the bookshelves, but nothing caught her attention, however she was looking to get a new journal to scrapbook. she headed over to the stationery section and saw the many different journals.

as she paid, she felt her phone buzz in her bag. as the woman scanned her journal and a few other miscellaneous items, darling grabbed her phone and saw that matt was calling. "your total is $23.62." the cashier suddenly spoke. out of habit, she double clicked the side button and declined the call to pay.

matt was currently in his dorm room as he had just came back from his second class of the day. he had a two hour break until his next class. in all honesty, he wasn't able to focus on his classes from earlier. matt was busy overthinking about his argument with darling last night. she probably wants to break up with him and never speak to him again, he thought.

he tried to busy himself by cleaning up his side of the dorm room. throwing away a bit of trash here and there. using the mini vacuum, the one darling bought for him and his roommate, to clean up the carpeted floor. and he did his laundry. as he folded his clothes, one of darlings' shirts had gotten into his load.

he gently folded it and put it in her designated drawer she had in his dorm, which was overflowing. he hoped that it stayed that way. as matt finished folding up his laundry, he decided to call her. opening his recent call log, she was the most recent one.

pretty🤍 yesterday 10:52pm

"please pick up." he muttered as he sat on his bed. it went past the first three rings, no answer yet. the call was soon declined. "fuck." he sighed, tossing his phone to the side resulting in it falling in the crack between his bed and his wall. "great."

matt threw himself back on his bed and groaned in frustration. why'd he have to be such an asshole and ditch her for her friends. most importantly- why'd he leave her waiting? the thought of her being ready and excited to go on the date only for him to not show up made him feel even worse than he already did.

matt really wanted to go over and apologize, he looked at the time and saw that around this time she was already home. he wasn't one to stalk her location as often, but he just decided to check. what if he went to her house and she wasn't even home? he pulled up her location and saw that she was at her friends house. he had remembered because he had picked her up from them once. maybe later. he thought.

the night came around and she was still with her friend. not that he was tracking her or anything, but she just happened to post a story on instagram and he just happened to get the notification.

it wasn't until an hour later when he checked her location and she were finally home. matt sat up and jumped off of his bed and grabbed his car keys from his desk. he didn't bother to grab a hoodie or anything, he just wanted to go to her to apologize.

y/n was laying in bed as she had just gotten home from spending most of the day with her best friend. the two of them caught up on everything. she told darling everything about this guy had been seeing and darling told her about her little disagreement with matt. she opened up to her and told her how she thought that maybe matt was getting tired of her because he never ditched her like that. "darling, i promise you that man is so obsessed with you. he is not leaving you anytime soon or ever." is what she told her.

she had her book propped up on her chest as she caught up on reading. that was until she heard little taps on her window. for a split second she thought it was raining, but when she looked over she saw matt out her window. "what?" she said confusingly, closing her book and sitting up. darling walked over to the window and opened it. "matt, what are you doing here? outside my window!" she told him. "i- i wanted to see you. can you sit with me out here? please." she thought for a second, but quickly agreed.

before she said anything, she turned around. matt had for sure thought she had just rejected him, but she soon returned with a hoodie on. "scoot over." darling said softly. for a moment they sat in silence, the occasional breeze blowing the tree branches. the tension was there, but it wasn't so tense. the silence was soon broken as matt spoke.

"m' sorry. i'm really sorry about yesterday." his hand came to her knee. "i- i shouldn't have done that. shouldn't have ditched you for my friends. shouldn't have left you waiting." his thumb moved back and forth against her sweatpants. "i'm sorry for lashing out on you-" matt interrupted her. "hey- no. don't be sorry, pretty. you had every right to be mad. i was the one who stood you up." she pouted, he was so understanding.

"are- are you sure? i feel really bad." darling grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers together. a gust of wind blew through and a strand of her hair came out of place. matt's empty hand came up to her face and tucked it behind her ear. "forgive me, baby? let me go with you next week, let me make it up to you." he kissed the back of her hand. she nodded.

"of course i forgive you." she smiled at him, taking her hand away from his to bring it up to his face to connect their lips in a sweet kiss. "i love you." darling mumbled against his lips. "i love you." matt smiled against her lips.

the two sat outside her window for a couple of minutes before it started to drizzle. "you stayin' the night?" she picked up her head from his shoulder. "only if you want me to." he grinned at her already knowing the answer. darling giggled and carefully stood up- matt stood up right after and guarded her to prevent anything- "come on." she crawled back into her room. matt closed the window, locking it, and immediately kicked his shoes off.

like routine he picked her up by the waist and gently tossed her onto the bed crawling on top of her. matt cuddled her, giving her little neck and shoulder kisses here and there.

soon enough, they fell asleep with her head tucked in his neck and his hand running through her hair. they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

[wonysugar]

going down on a dork || aeri uchinaga

synopsis : giselle, a camgirl, decides to make a dork a special guest on her page.

pairing : camgirl!giselle x bicurious!femreader

genre : smut

tags : cunnilingus, lots of it i think, mentions of fingering, mentions of hetero sex? sorry LMFAO, fem reader is implied to be bicurious, kissing, making out, giselle records this shit on her old gen macbook, we love an aesthetic queen, anyways yeah lesbian sex that’s about it really

word count : 1.9k

a/n : 4am… I TOLD YALL I COULD DO IT!😭😭but yeah uhm here you gooo i kinda don’t really care about it..? like yeah i wrote this butjfrjjf that’s about it… not one of my bests! like honestly this was not worth the wait i made y’all go throughfjdmdn I’M SORRY🙏but yeah erm i’ll proofread tomorrow cause rn i’m fighting demons to not close my eyesss gootnight love y’all or whateva

btw sorry for the thing at the end LMFAOAO i got the idea and just had to, i sincerely apologize

“alright.”

the familiar girl, known online as giselle, backed away from the macbook, grin on her face, and sat back down on the bed with another person, eyeing them excitedly.

“alright.” repeated the other girl, fidgeting with her hands nervously as she sat up, before adding on, “c-can they see me?” earning laughter from the content creator before her.

“oh they’ll definitely see you, just not your face, obviously.” 

the stranger, labeled as the dork in the title of the video, seemed to be somewhat relieved by those words and allowed herself to relax more, leaning back onto the comfy bed and putting all of her weight onto the back of her arms. by getting comfortable, her neck now came into frame, her hair length became visible. 

“so,” giselle spoke softly, her eyes switching back and forth between fixing on the girl’s eyes and lips, that is, with a playful grin. “you excited?” 

that earned a nervous giggle from said girl, “honestly? not even sure what i agreed to do.” 

truth is, this was a recurring thing for the camgirl, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t known on campus for that exact reason, especially by a particular subgroup of girls; she, a lesbian, spends her freetime interesting other women, whether they’re bicurious or simply just bored, into having (mostly oral) sex with her, whilst also being consensually recorded in the act so she can diffuse it online, later on. that was her whole internet thing, among the more solo-esque type of content she put out every now and then.

she gave a respective codename to each girl, as to make sure they stay completely anonymous whilst also giving them a tiny description, something for the viewers to go off of. multiple examples of those immediately come to mind; cheerleader, mom, hell, one of them is even straight up called woman in stem.

now, she had great amounts of fun with all of them, obviously, and all of those one-time occurrences contributed in making her a couple of bucks due to the number of views, nothing to complain about. but in all honesty, they were all just girls at the end of the day. this girl? she couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was something about her, something that exhilarated giselle.

she knew she was gonna have a lot more fun with this dork, and it definitely showed through her giddy-like expression when she spoke to her, she was by far the most entertaining one she’s ever had to partake with, and she hadn’t even done anything to her yet.

yet.

despite the under-average quality of the macbook giselle always filmed her videos with, anybody could guess that due to the setting, the initial rendezvous was a cozy study session, with nothing but the slight yet bright daytime sunshine breaking into the room through the mostly curtain-covered windows.

the title foreshadowed it all, however, and all it took were those uncertain words to make giselle want to turn that short conversation, this whole hangout, into something else, something more. she crawled closer and pressed her lips against the dork’s. the kiss was slow and gentle, as well as being the only thing audible in the silent room at that moment. 

she pulled away from the first contact, then softly spoke out a “you’ll figure it out eventually.” loud enough that the shitty microphone picked it up, before leaning back in again, this time in a comfier position as to properly straddle the nervous girl that was under her.

to the latter’s own surprise, she returned the kiss that was placed on her lips; it was clear she would’ve wanted to do more than just sit there and take it, easier said than done. she wished to actually allow her own hands to explore giselle on a deeper, more personal level, essentially getting accustomed to the feeling of having her body in this close of a proximity to hers, but alas, that wasn’t going to happen for a while, especially since that would officially mark the day that she’s ever touched another girl in such a suggestive manner. the laptop camera recording their every move just further added onto the feeling.

giselle knew that, though, the nervousness that radiated from the girl she intertwined her lips with was so thick in the air that she could practically touch it if she tried. “come on, pretty girl, relax.” she whispered to the girl in between kisses. it obviously didn’t take long after that for the kiss to get hungrier and more heated, which eventually resulted in having her slowly slide down to the dork’s neck, now dragging her lips across and planting messy kisses there, as well as leaving gentle suckles and nibbles. “it’s just you and me.” she added, her hot breath on the girl’s skin.

if giselle were asked to describe that day in full detail, she’d spend at least ten whole minutes gushing and rambling about how fucking good that girl smelled.

the latter seemingly let go and eventually left all of the work to the more experienced woman, taking in all of what was being put on her, slowly learning to ride on the waves of intimacy. soon enough, a content giselle slowly ran her hand up the girl’s graphic tee and reached for the back of her bra, attempting to unhook it with one hand.

which, she successfully did, by the way; muscle memory always came in handy in instances like these.

much to the other girl’s disappointment, giselle pulled away from her attention-deprived neck, breathing heavily as she looked down at the already somewhat visible markings, admiring her work. “do you have a boyfriend?” 

confusion now occupied the majority of the dork’s fuzzy mind, “n-no..” she replied, still shaken up by the mere, previous things the pink haired woman had done to her already, “i wouldn’t be doing this if i did.”

giselle smiled, amused by that answer, eyes hooded with nothing but intent and lust as she stared, “then, are you talking to anybody?”

“well…” responded the other reluctantly, now thinking more carefully as to figure out what exactly to call the strange relationship she held with the boy whose face popped up in her mind. “i-i guess you could say that.” 

giselle traced circles around the nervous girl’s stomach, hand slipped under that tee, with her black and white acrylic nails, feline-like gaze still fixed on her lips. “when was the last time you saw him?”

“..yesterday.”

“yeah?” she asked for confirmation, slightly tilting her head in query before subtly leaning closer, “tell me about it.”

“well,” started the girl, looking away as her hands found and held onto anything, her fingers fidgeting some more and playing with the bedsheets she was laying on, twisting, pulling, keeping her muscles busy. she felt like she had to use her entire brain power to recall the elements of the past evening and properly form them into words. she had barely succeeded,  “h-he asked if he could come over, i said yes, obviously, and we… uhm—”

thrown off by the sudden movement of hands slowly pulling down her sweatpants, she went silent and turned back to the girl in front of her as she tried to compose her untamed thoughts. 

“you..?” 

“right.” visibly distracted by the risky contact, the girl further struggled to speak, “w-we.. uh, we had sex.”

giselle smiled knowingly, “well no shit, genius.” 

giggling as she now had completely taken off the sweatpants of the person laying before her, she continued, “i meant in detail; i wanna know everything.”

“oh.” sighed out the girl, both in relief of finally feeling giselle’s hands on her deprived skin again and in thought.

the pink haired chuckled, clearly excited.

this was exciting, both for the viewers and the two parties involved.

the video cut to a more intense scene, the somewhat awkward tension having evaporated into the air and leaving more space for hunger, and desire.

“m-mmh—“ 

with a long, slow and almost painful swipe of the tongue, giselle managed to completely obliterate the girl’s train of thought yet again, leaving her a whimpering mess. the taste of her slick coating the entire surface of her tongue.

“just from one lick? fuck..” she lowly whispered into her cunt, practically to herself, slowly panting into it like a hyperactive dog would. she carefully spread the slightly swollen, moist with slick lips as she stared. it was so pretty, all exposed, wet and vulnerable for her.

she made her feel this way.

and because of it, she couldn’t help but want to give it another taste.

“come on, keep telling.” she reminded the girl with a smirk, who happened to have covered her mouth with the back of her hand, “i’m dying to know more, you know?”

that’s when she fully leaned into said girl’s core, tongue first; leaving gentle kisses and suckles all around the very clearly aroused bundle of nerves before going to town. it was hard to see the details, but it definitely wasn’t hard to hear them and what was going. 

every wet sound, every kiss, every lick, every suckle, every noise that forced itself out of giselle’s throat; all of it was audible.

“h-he ate me out...” softly moaned the girl, now practically biting on her hand to muffle as much noise as she could. this was a college dorm, after all. “he had his lips around my clit a-and his fingers curling inside of me and— fuck.”

giselle was visibly smiling against the girl’s core before pulling away for a quick moment, “if it weren’t for my nails, i would’ve fingered you as soon as you laid on this bed, baby girl.”

giselle would never do that for any of the other girls, her videos consisted of cunnilingus and cunnilingus only.

perhaps the dork was one of a kind?

“i know..” she responded hazily, her voice hoarse and shaky, “you w-would’ve done it better than him.”

“that’s right.” that earned a smile from the pink haired, a prideful and cocky one, “you know me so well, don’t you?”

“mhm.” she said, letting out a whine as she nodded in response to feeling the camgirl’s mouth on her. her body slightly jolted with each contact, the way giselle’s tongue maneuvered around her fragile flower, experience radiating through her movements and eye contact, even through the way she held onto her thighs. 

the girl kept telling, eventually even recalling describing every detail about how the boy fucked her. that, despite being fucked out of her right mind and forgetting how to form words properly.

all of those events were enough to drive the girl closer to the edge after a while.

“ae—“ she stopped mid-sentence and quickly corrected herself, “—giselle i’m about to c-cum..”

the camgirl kept doing what she did best, if not more intensely than previously. she needed to see that pretty girl cum her brains out all over her mouth. she was gonna make her numerous times if she was presented the opportunity.

giselle needed to see how even prettier the girl looked when she came.

the orgasm itself hit her like a truck, a loud one at that. she had unconsciously grabbed a fistful of giselle’s hair and pushed her head closer to her pussy, grinding on her and riding out her excess of dopamine. 

the girl eventually let go, and the video ended after the camgirl pulled away and sat back up, staring at the girl. both of them looking at each other and giggling together, giselle’s dimples more prominent than ever. 

maybe they giggled from nervousness? maybe it was from excitement? 

one thing was for sure, though, giselle was quick to book an appointment with her nail tech as soon as she could.

[thef1diary]

the way you’d run straight to the internet to buy your own spirit box so max could talk you through the ghostly orgasm 💀

— you finally bought the right device, everyone cheers! but now, how would max use this form of communication to make you lose your mind over and over again? 18+ content below

The static from the spirit box buzzed faintly, filling the air with anticipation. It was the fourth device you’d tried, but this one… this one worked.

“Max?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you adjusted the dial. The static shifted, crackling, until—

“Missed me?” came his distorted voice, low and rough, sending a shiver straight through you.

Tears pricked your eyes at the sound of him. Weeks, months even, of feeling him but never hearing him. Now, his voice filled the room, warped but unmistakably his. You barely had time to respond before the bed dipped, invisible hands pushing you back against the mattress.

“I can hear you,” you breathed, already pressing your thighs together in anticipation.

“Yeah? Good,” he replied, the slight distortion only making his words rougher, filthier. “Because I’ve got a lot to say now that you finally got it right.”

Instantly, hands you couldn’t see but knew intimately gripped your thighs, spreading them apart firmly. The fabric of your shorts was tugged down, your underwear following in one swift, decisive movement.

“Fuck, you’re soaked already,” his voice hissed through the static, mocking and dripping with approval. “Were you hoping to hear me like this? Whispering all the dirty things I’m going to do while I ruin you?”

Your head tipped back, a whimper escaping your lips as his hands—strong and sure—gripped your thighs tighter. You arched into nothingness, gasping when his mouth—cool, solid, and so painfully real—latched onto your nipple, teeth scraping, tongue flicking.

“Max!” His name left your lips in a desperate cry, but his laugh—deep, teasing—cut through the static.

As he continued lapping at your nipple, his hand, firm and skilled, slid between your thighs. Fingers thrusted into your soaked heat without hesitation, curling and stretching you, preparing you for his cock.

“That’s it,” his voice growled, the spirit box crackling in tandem with your moans. “You take my fingers so well. So perfect, schatje.”

After placing one more kiss each to your nipples, he curled his fingers inside your pussy. “So wet, so ready for my cock.”

You gasped hearing his filthy words before a plethora of pleas escaped your lips, asking for his cock. Your cunt clenched at the thought of being fucked by him.

The bed creaked under the force of his invisible weight, his cock pressing into you in one hard thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs. The sound of his groan through the spirit box was nearly as intoxicating as the feeling of him inside you.

“Max,” you gasped, clawing at the sheets as he set a brutal pace, each thrust hard enough to rock the bed frame. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him with every snap of his hips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he hissed through the static, his voice raw with pleasure. “Feel how good you take me? How you clench ‘round me?”

Your head tipped back, eyes rolling as he pounded into you, each word making the coil in your belly tighten. “I need you,” you cried, your voice breaking as he angled his hips, driving deeper.

“Good girl,” he groaned, the spirit box crackling under the weight of his praise. His thrusts grew erratic, his grip bruising as he chased his release.

“Fuck, Max, yes—don’t stop, ‘m gonna cum,” you begged, the words spilling from your lips unchecked.

You shattered first, his name a scream on your lips as your orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing around him. He followed seconds later, his groans—raw and guttural—filling the room.

As you lay there, trembling and boneless, the static from the spirit box crackled softly, his voice cutting through with a low, satisfied murmur.

“Leave it on,” he said, referring to the spirit box. “We’re not done. Now that I’ve got a voice, I plan on using it.”

want more ghost!max? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[st7rnioioss]

۶ৎ HANDYMAN!CHRIS x NEIGHBOR!READER

neighbor!reader getting back at handyman!chris after he stole her underwear..

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... mentions of masturbation (m), swearing

the soft sound of your feet padding across the floor was the only thing that could be heard as you opened your front door, and stepped outside. keeping the door open, you took one or two steps onto chris’s doormat, knocking three times on the door.

waiting patiently, the cold breeze from the staircase gently blew by you, leaving a small trail of goosebumps. suddenly, almost messily with a faint ‘fuck!’ behind the door, it flew open.

your eyes met chris’s, before they trailed down his form. he was wearing a white tank top, along with grey sweatpants. his hair was tousled, and you could tell he hadn’t shaved in a couple days. “oh- hey there,” he then spoke with a gruff voice, rubbing his eye. it left you to wonder if you’d just woken him up, but that made no difference.

“hi, chris. um- i was just wondering if you could help me with the sink? it’s, um, well. it’s rather messed up,” you smiled with a soft voice, pointing over your shoulder to motion for your apartment. “i mean, if you’re not in a hurry or anything.”

he definitely wasn’t. he’d just been woken up by your knocking, almost shocked when he saw your pretty face ask for help.

“uh- yeah. sure, it’s not problem. i’ll just go get a few things.. just wait inside, you uh- you must be cold,” yeah, he knew you were cold from the way his eyes trailed down to your hardened nipples beneath the tank top you had on. his eyes trailed back up to your face, offering you a smile before he turned back around to find whatever he needed.

returning the smile, you went back inside, leaving the door open for him. no, the sink wasn’t broken. the sink actually worked perfectly fine for that matter. you just wanted to see chris, who’d snooped through your underwear, so what else could you do than loosen the pipes a little?

not long after, chris stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him. you returned from the bathroom, giving him a small wave. “come on, it’s in the bathroom. there’s, like, a wet mess under the sink,” you said while walking him to the bathroom, before you both stepped inside.

“oh, yeah. that’s not a problem, it’ll only take a second,” his eyes flickered from the wet stain back to your eyes, while you just nodded, acting completely dumb and clueless. “thank you!” you chirped, watching him awkwardly fit under the counter, just like you’d done prior.

while he worked on the pipe, you chitchatted. he explained that his door was acting up, and you were confused as to why he didn’t just fix it—he knew so much anyway. you talked about your studies and how boring university is, while chris spoke about his business,

“have you also.. lost some clothes?” you said with a smirk, that he couldn’t see, leaning against the counter. you knew exactly where those panties you lost a week ago had gone—chris’s pocket. immediately he went flushed, which you also couldn’t see. thank god for that.

“um, no. uh- not really. ma-maybe, like, a sock?” he lied straight through his teeth, well aware of the panties he had sneaked out of your laundry basket and later fisted around his cock.

“but um- no. nothing other than that. it’s odd,” he muttered, getting back up from under the counter. “yeah, it’s odd.. well, it’s whatever. thank you again!” you smiled at him again, meeting his eyes in a form of unannounced stare contest, that he then broke off.

“it’s no problem. just- just give me a call if you have any other problems,” he rubbed the back of his neck, praying that the pink tint had worn off his cheeks. it hadn’t.

more neighbor!reader x handyman!chris here!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[papaya-twinks]

Your smuts are PERFECT. would you write a smut about lando having a sex playlist? I feel like a sex playlist is so lando

mood - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+, praise, fingering

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - 1. Tyyyy, I’m glad you like my smut, I think I’m getting better each fic! 2. I don’t really have any sex songs so I searched some random ones!

It was a lazy Sunday when you found yourself going through Lando’s bag. He had tossed it carelessly on the couch after his race. You weren’t snooping - just curious.

His bag always seemed to hold little mysteries.

After digging through some race notes and half-eaten energy bars, you found his phone. You smirked. He never hid the password.

You opened the music app, knowing Lando’s playlists were always… interesting.

But this one was different.

The title: "The Mood."

You raised an eyebrow and pressed play. The first song was slow, sultry and sensual. The bass was deep, the rhythm steady, like it was designed to make you feel something.

The next track was just as smooth but with more bite. You scrolled through the rest…and there was definitely an underlying theme here.

Love To Love You Baby - Donna Summers

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

Superman - Eminem

Sex With Me - Rihanna

Each title seemed to say something more... suggestive. Before you could react, a voice from behind made you jump.

“Caught you, didn’t I?”

You spun around. Lando stood in the doorway, grinning with his signature, wicked little smile.

“Seriously?” you raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”

He stepped closer, his grin widening. “You found my playlist, did ya? It’s for... special things.”

“Snooping isn’t a very nice thing to do, is it, hm?” he asked, stepped forwards, your back pressed to the wall as you held his phone in shaky hands.

“What d’you think it’s for?” Lando asked, his warm breath splaying across your skin as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“C’mon, let’s hear those thoughts,” he hummed, “is it for…gaming? Fun?”

His eyes were dark, teasing. You weren’t sure if he meant the playlist... or something else entirely.

“Wanna try it out?” he asked, slowly lacing his hand into yours as you nodded, following him upstairs.

“Excited?” he snickered as you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor as he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

Your movements were messy. Hands roaming over his body and pulling his joggers down.

“Forgettin’ something,” Lando paused, turning the music on with one hand, using the other to wrap round your neck, pushing you onto the bed as you bounced.

The sultry of ‘Superman’ played as you feverishly pulled your skirt up, legs pushed apart by his long, thick fingers.

Fuck.

You moaned - legs quivering as he sunk his digit into your core, curling it as your silken walls clenched round him, a smirk on his face.

At the same time, your hand came to his cock, slowly pumping him up and down as he groaned. “Such a professional,” he mumbled as you teased his tip.

“Wanna be in you,” he said, reaching for a condom as you nodded.

You were needier than anything, watching how he rolled the rubber all the way down to his shaft somehow making your core drip with need, clit throbbing.

His cock twitched as he pressed his head, an angry shade of red, against your entrance.

“Fuck,” you both moaned in sink as he pushed in, his cock forcing your tight walls apart, your juices making it easier for him to slip into.

“Just like that,” he mumbled, leaning down to press a warm kiss to your neck as you wrapped your legs round his waist, pushing his hips forwards and completely sheathing him inside of you.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Lando groaned, not objecting to your need, his hips immediately moving at a blistering pace.

His harsh, deep strokes reached your g-spot in no time, your moans syncing with the melody of the song in the background, a contrast to the slow, sensual rhythm.

“Fuckin’ love you,” Lando grunted, leaning down to squeeze your breasts in his hand, pulling you in for a messy kiss.

You could do nothing but moan into his mouth as your core tightened round him, your bundle of nerves twitching as you reached a finger down, rubbing soft circles into your skin.

Lando hummed, moving your hand away to replace it with his own, slowly easing more pressure as you cried out, eyes rolling.

“How d’you like the songs then?” Lando asked, a smile on his face.

You nodded, almost limply, to his question, tongue poking from your lips as your core clenched.

Each slam of his hips sent a wave of pleasure to your mind, tits bouncing as you balled your fists in the duvet.

You could feel your orgasm threaten to spill through…and spill through it did.

“F-Fuck, Lando!”.

He only sped up, helping you break the wall as your thighs shook, toes curling with the pressure of the fire in your belly, your mind painfully aware of his where his cock was.

You couldn’t even form what song it was….some Lana Del Ray song about riding someone…god Lando was dirty.

You squeaked again as he slammed into you one last time, the rubber tightening round him as his cum spilled into it.

He panted for a few seconds, the room smelling of nothing but sex and sweat, the sound of your breathing and the songs in the background.

“Fuck,” Lando finally said, helping you stand up.

“Should’ve cummed in you,” he mumbled as you sighed, head on his chest. “Let’s clean up,” you said as he nodded.

“How was it? The music ‘n’ all,” he mumbled, walking you to the bathroom. “I liked it,” you said, “it was hot,”.

“Good,”.

Of course Lando has a sex playlist.

It was so…him.

[uchizana]

SPARK ──── kim minjeong.

synopsis: in a whirlwind romance, a seemingly perfect relationship is shattered when jealousy rears its head, revealing minjeong’s unsettling obsessions and igniting a battle for sanity between love and darkness.

pairing: toxic girlfriend! minjeong x girlfriend!fem reader

warning(s): fire (uhm yeah...), jealousy, manipulation, toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, victimhood, violence. (let me know if I missed something!!)

word count: 7,2k (i had to rewrite it because my docs hates me and for some reason deleted the file where i had the original work... anyways this version is very similar.)

aespa masterlist.

your relationship with minjeong was complicated.

at first, the world appeared pastel and soft, built on hues of affection and endless laughter. 

you remember the early days clearly — she was the kind of girlfriend who would take you out on dates every weekend,how she would surprise you with breathtaking bouquets, each more vibrant than the last. there were daisies, peonies, and delicate lilies, transforming corners of your home into a floral wonderland. your place started to resemble a botanical garden, petals spilling into every corner, their sweet scents blending with the memories of her laughter.

minjeong had a gift for warmth; there were times when she gazed at you as if you were a novel she could read forever, showering you with compliments that seemed to ebb and flow like the tides; “you look so beautiful today,” she would say, even on days when you hadn’t left the house or merely tied it into a messy bun. she would compliment you even when you forgot to fix your hair or wore an old hoodie. 

her sweet, simple gestures spoke volumes—kissing you on the knuckles, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, and watching you intently when you spoke like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered. sometimes, she’d slip her hands into your pockets while you two held hands, wanting to keep your fingers warm when you forgot your gloves in winter. everything felt right, perfect.

but then, like a sudden storm cloud obscuring a clear sky, everything shifted. the first crack in your fairy tale surfaced when life’s mundane obligations got in the way of love.  one fateful weekend, you had to make a choice — a subject looming over your head like a dark shadow. with an important exam creeping ever closer, you found yourself compelled to cancel your much-anticipated date night with her. the guilt settled heavily in your stomach as you dialed her number, knowing how much she’d been looking forward to it.

“hey minjeong, i’m really sorry…” you started, your palms sweaty around the phone. “i can’t make it this weekend. i need to study. it’s this exam, and—”

nerves consume you, leaving you speechless. there was a long pause on the line. you could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind.

“it’s okay,” she finally said, her voice tight. “don’t worry about it,” her voice chimed back, light yet edged with something you couldn’t pinpoint. “good luck with your studies.” 

there was an unsettling dissonance lurked beneath the surface, leading you to believe she was fighting back something more than disappointment.

“i'm really sorry, baby. i promise i'll make it up to you as soon as possible.” you assure her, feeling the guilt eating away at you and making you feel bad, even when you weren't doing anything wrong other than putting your studies first.

“i told you not to worry about it. i understand, it seems that right now your studies are more important than your girlfriend, i get it.”

you didn’t miss the subtleties in her tone; the tension that suggested she was biting back words that didn’t fit into her kind demeanor.

“anyways, i'll hang up right now. i'll leave you to study in peace.”

however, judging by her tone of voice, you’d swear she was tapping the inside of her cheek with her tongue to keep from blurting out what she was really thinking.

of course, that’s how it was. you used that weekend to study, but there were a couple of changes along the way. you ended up meeting at a friend’s house to study. she told you that she had knowledge of the subject since her sister was studying the same subjects at university and spent nights and nights studying, so inevitably your friend ended up listening to her sister study, whether she wanted to or not, memorizing more knowledge than she anticipated.

you were focused on studying, hair tied in a messy bun, books and notebooks scattered all over the table, along with pencils and empty coffee cups. your friend thought it was kind of funny to see you so focused on studying when most of the time you never studied for tests or even put a pencil down in class, so she had no better idea than to take a photo when you weren’t looking.

you were deep in the grasp of equations and theories when your friend, in a mischievous moment, snapped a photo of you. you had been so absorbed that you hadn’t sensed her reach for her phone.

as she clicked the shutter, the light captured you: hair a mess, scribbles sprawled across your notebook, a look of fierce concentration. unbeknownst to you, that seemingly harmless moment cascaded into something monumental. your friend, having the joys of social media at her fingertips, instantly uploaded it to her instagram stories, a lighthearted snapshot of you crushing it at studying.

minjeong was home, idly watching television, when her phone buzzed, instantly receiving the notification that your friend had made a post seconds ago. why she had notifications from your friends activated and how she managed to get updates in real-time? well, that was a secret better left unsaid. you knew that she followed your friends closely, but you never thought much of it. that was her way of staying connected, of knowing what you were up to, as if weaving a delicate thread between you, even from afar. but this thread snapped when she clicked on the notification.

within moments, minjeong sat frozen in her living room, her heart racing. she glanced at the photo on her phone: you, hair piled haphazardly, surrounded by crumpled papers and empty coffee cups, looking like you were about to conquer an academic mountain. but it wasn’t only that. in the background, through the window, she could see your friend's house, ryujin’s house. the instant flash of jealousy sparked inside her—a gut-wrenching twist of envy that she fought to suppress.

the blossoming rage was immediate and insatiable. she nearly smashed her phone against the wall, leaving it to dangle dangerously from her fingertips, all shatters and anger. seconds felt like hours as her mind raced, spiraling through anger and betrayal with dizzying speed. 

her hand trembled, tightening around the phone as she scanned the comments already popping up, friends praising your focus, others playfully teasing you. each word only fueled the fire in her chest. the image replayed in her mind, vivid and cruel, making her heart race. what had she allowed to slip while you studied with another girl—so effortlessly immersed in the comfort of your friendship while she was left behind?

minjeong felt a sudden jolt of irritation surge through her. the kind that ignited flames of a insane jealousy. the realization that you were spending time with someone else, not just anyone, but with someone who was so visibly present in your life. someone who had now become a part of this moment you were sharing without her. it felt like betrayal—the photos intended to capture your essence instead felt like reminders of her absence.

what did it mean that you were there, alone with her? had you been telling her the truth this whole time about studying together? or had you grown tired of her and her little quirks? it felt like betrayal, visceral and raw. how did her sister's extra study sessions become her own?

in a rise of frustration, she silenced her phone, the sound echoing like a decision reverberating through her thoughts. she tossed it onto the couch and stood there, still as a statue. the warmth of the living room seemed to suffocate her, and her mind whirled with conflicting emotions. without thinking, she grabbed her jacket from where it hung and impulsively marched out of her apartment, slamming the door behind her—her heart racing as the chill of the evening air surrounded her.

where are you going? the question echoed in her mind as she stepped onto the city streets, her breath misting before her in the winter chill. she didn’t know where to go; the cold wind cut through her, much like the realization of what she felt inside. she was filled with confusion, anger, and hurt, questions swirling around her like the fallen leaves.

what if you didn’t want her anymore? what if this was just the beginning of something spiraling out of control? the images of you studying with someone else, laughing and flirting, ignited feelings she hadn’t felt in a long time.

maybe she was overreacting? the right words swirled out of reach, tangled in the threads of her heart. she played back memories—each sweet moment together battling with the icy reality of this new picture, this betrayal. she questioned every second they had spent together, every revelation she had quietly harbored about her feelings for you. you—who were supposed to be her source of happiness, now felt like a threat, a source of pain.

your walk back home is peaceful. the cold breeze of early winter kisses your face, sending tiny shivers down your spine. luckily, you have your coat on, its fabric a comforting barrier against the chill wrapping around the city. 

the faint glow of street lamps illuminated the sidewalk, their lights flickering like distant stars against a darkening sky. the scent of fallen leaves mingles with the faint aroma of smoke from distant chimneys, creating a vivid tapestry of autumn giving way to winter. you found comfort in the rhythm of your footsteps, each echo resonating against the chill of the night air.

as you reached the entrance of the building where you lived, you noticed a profound silence enveloping the space. the usual sounds—the laughter of neighbors, the creaking of doors, the faint hum of life—are conspicuously absent.

normally, you would hear the hum of distant conversations, the clatter of heels on the tile floors, or the soft notes of music drifting from neighbors' open doors. but tonight, the only sound was the faint rustle of your coat as you shuffled inside.

a strange feeling settled over your shoulders, as if the air itself was holding its breath, the kind that prickles at the base of your neck, whispering that something isn't quite right and making you sense that something was amiss. 

you pause for a moment, scanning the darkened hallway, but sigh and shake it off. it’s late, after all; perhaps everyone is tucked away, hibernating in their cozy nests.

you pressed the button for the elevator, the ding echoing through the stillness. as it ascended, an unsettling sense of unease crept in. you can’t even hear the faint sounds of other apartments—the muffled TV shows, the soft laughter, and the rhythmic background of city life. even the elevator seemed to hold its breath, devoid of the usual creaks and groans. you wondered if everyone around you had decided to vanish, leaving you as the sole inhabitant of this quiet realm.

the ascent felt slower than usual, the stillness heightened by the lack of familiar sounds. the soft whir of the machinery felt almost alien in this quiet atmosphere. just when you start to feel anxious, the elevator dings, announcing your arrival at your floor, but you feel unnerved, looking forward to the ordinary chaos of your apartment.

stepping out onto your floor, you adjusted your scarf and made your way down the hallway. rummaging through your bag for your keys, your thoughts wandered to what you’d studied at ryujin’s place earlier. it had been a late session, fueled by coffee and late-night snacks, and a part of you regretted not sending a text to let Minjeong know.

just as you were about to lose yourself in that thought, you felt a sudden grip on your wrist. startled, your heart raced as the hallway light flickered on, illuminating the figure of minjeong standing there, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.

“where have you been?” minjeong’s voice pierced the silence, echoing off the walls. her expression was layered with concern and something deeper—something that sent a shiver down your spine. in an instant, the hallway light flickered on, casting a warm glow that seemed almost foreign amidst the encroaching shadows.

you turned, wide-eyed, the knot in your stomach tightening. “minjeong? what are you doing here? it’s late.”

she narrowed her eyes, and the tension in the air thickened. “i could ask you the same thing. why were you out so late?”

you took a breath, felt the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through you. “i told you i would use this weekend to prepare for my exam, remember? ryujin offered to help me study.” you explained, exasperated. “i forgot to tell you that i was going to her house to study, i’m sorry. but we had a big exam coming up.” you could feel the frustration bubbling beneath your skin, but you tried to keep your voice calm.

minjeong’s frown deepened, her arms crossing over her chest. you could see the gears of her mind shifting, grappling with what you’d just said. yes, she knew you were with ryujin, but verbalizing it seemed to ignite something within her, bringing out the demon of jealousy.

“just studying?” she pressed, her tone laced with skepticism. “how late were you planning on staying?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but she wasn’t finished. “you could’ve at least texted me, you know. i was worried!”

you raised your hands in a gesture of surrender, trying to keep your voice even. “i’m really sorry; i lost track of time. but you know ryujin is just a friend. we were going over notes, that’s all!”

her voice trailed off, eyes narrowing as jealousy crept into her words. “you’re always with her.”

“it’s just study stuff, minjeong!” you insisted, somewhat defensively. “you know you’re the one i care about.”

her fingers dug into your wrist as she leaned closer, her face betraying a tempest of emotions. “i can’t help it! i just— i don’t like this feeling!”

“feeling what?” you replied, bewildered. the tension crackling between you was palpable, each word finding its mark like arrows in a target as you both circled each other like wary opponents. “i’ll always choose you, minjeong. i just really needed to study.”

huffily, she crosses her arms, her fingers pressing her coat into her skin as if it were a shield. “it’s not about studying! it’s about you being inconsiderate. you could’ve called,” she huffs dramatically.

you feel a wave of frustration surge through you, but you brace yourself against it. “minjeong, you didn’t have to worry. i’m safe, and besides, i didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” your attempt at reason is met with a silence that hangs heavy in the air, tension crackling between you like static.

“safe?” she scoffs incredulously, her eyes narrowing. “you’re out with some girl at her place! i don’t want to sound controlling, but why would you put yourself in that situation without telling me? you could at least consider my feelings.”

“minjeong…” you feel the energy drain from your voice. the conversation is taking an unexpected turn. she knows you well enough to trust you, doesn’t she? you reach out to touch her arm, but she flinches away, retreating into her own anxieties.

“just let me into the apartment,” you plead, desperate to talk this out in private. something inside you hopes that they won’t spiral further into an explosive confession of jealousy and insecurities.

yet she shakes her head resolutely. “not until you explain why i should trust you when you’re out with another girl,” she insists, the fight in her voice wavering but ultimately holding firm.

after much hesitation, you manage to soothe the atmosphere. “i have no feelings for ryujin. our relationship is just a friendship. you're the one i love.”

eventually, after tired back-and-forth, she mutters, “... fine. i’m sorry for overreacting, but i just can’t help worrying… it’s not like anyone really talks to me about these things.” her voice softens, and you recognize that vulnerability; she’s slipping into her victim role again.

you try holding her gaze, searching for the truth behind her words. “it’s okay; i get it. just try to trust me a little more, alright?”

ninjeong smiles hesitantly, but the shadows of her doubts linger in her eyes like a storm cloud threatening to break. you unlock the door and let her into your apartment, unsure of what the night will unfold. the warmth of the living space is inviting, but the tension of the moment casts a longer shadow than you anticipated.

unbeknownst to you, this moment was just the beginning of something that had rooted itself deep in your relationship with minjeong—a well-meaning storm, brewed from jealousy and care, that would spiral and churn in ways neither of you could predict. as she brushes past you into the living room, you reluctantly realize what lies ahead may be more challenging than you’d hoped for.

the argument felt small at first, a mere bump in the road of your otherwise blissful relationship with minjeong. but as the days wore on, it became apparent that the little fight had unlocked something within her, something dark and volatile. the initial infraction—her jealousy over a casual conversation you had with a mutual friend—had spiraled into an endless cycle of blame and resentment.

you still recall the way her eyes had narrowed as she listened, her lips pressed into a tight line. that soft laugh you loved so much had been replaced by a chilling silence. what used to be playfully teasing turned into a gaze that bore down on you, probing, analyzing, judging; it felt like the weight of her disappointment was crushing your chest. once sweet and affectionate, she transformed into someone you hardly recognized—her demeanor twisted, like a pretty piece of art slowly warping into a grotesque figure and you wondered if you even recognized the girl you had fallen in love with.

you found it hard to breathe the first time she turned that silence on you after the argument. sitting across from each other at a cafe, the usual warmth in her gaze had vanished, replaced by an unsettling intensity. you looked everywhere but into her eyes, tracing patterns in the wooden table with your fingers. you could feel her stare, piercing and relentless.

“do you think she likes you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but laced with an edge that made your stomach churn.

“who?” you notice that minjeong's gaze is no longer meeting yours, but is directed elsewhere across the room. you follow her gaze, and you understand what she means; a few tables away is your friend yizhuo, having breakfast and chatting with a friend of hers.

you exhaled slowly, hoping calm would drown the anxiety rising in your chest.

“don’t play coy,” she snapped, her voice suddenly sharp. “you know exactly who i’m talking about. is it really that hard to be honest with me?”

the argument blossomed, each word a petal of bitterness, eventually curling into a thorny reality. you didn’t understand where all this jealousy came from, nor did you grasp why her feelings conveyed so much potency. minjeong used to be the gentle spirit, the one who found beauty in everything—even in the world of people. now, she was the tempest, and you were ensnared within it.

but that wasn’t the end; it was merely the first act in an ongoing tragedy. the discussions didn’t stop. they became a staple of your daily life, an unwanted rhythm that resonated through your days. one friday night, a group of friends decided to gather at a local bar. laughter echoed through the walls, familiar warmth wrapped around you like an old blanket, but not for minjeong.

"are you even listening to me?" she snapped one evening during the dinner with her friends, her voice slicing through the laughter surrounding you like a knife. you had been chatting and catching up with your friends, oblivious to the thundercloud brewing in her mind.

"of course, i am," you replied earnestly, but the damage was done. the disapproval etched across her face was enough to ruin the mood. moments later, she dragged you outside under the pretense of needing air, her grip on your arm like steel.

"what's wrong with you? you've been ignoring me ever since we got here.” she demanded, her voice low but frigid.

you sighed, your heart racing. "it was just a conversation. i didn't mean to upset you."

"you should know better," she hissed, her eyes flashing. “you and your friends always do this. you want to hurt me, don't you?”

the phrase was confusing; what in the world made her think you would ever want to hurt her? yet every rational thought fell away, and you found yourself backpedaling, desperate to soothe the storm brewing within her.

“minjeong, please. i value you and our time together. you know that,” you pleaded.

she just gives you one last look, walking back into the bar, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

you should have known she wouldn’t be willing to play nice. midway through the first round of drinks, you saw it—the familiar grimace twisting her features as she watched you engage in conversation with jimin, a longtime friend. you felt minjeong’s eyes digging into you like daggers, even as a lighthearted joke made jimin laugh. the sweet sound cut you off—no more jokes, no more laughter. as the night progressed and the alcohol flowed, minjeong's attitude simmered, eventually boiling over.

“can we leave?” she demanded, standing abruptly. Ignoring the pile of half-finished drinks and clinking glasses, she grabbed your wrist, her grip hard enough to bruise. you glanced around, trying to gauge the group's reactions, but most were busy enjoying the night. you caught jimin's concerned look—a silent plea for you to stay, but minjeong wouldn’t hear it.

“minjeong, can we just relax for a moment?” you attempted to reason with her, but the storm was too loud, and the chaos was all-consuming.

“no!” she yelled, the intensity of it drawing eyes toward your table. your heart sank; a familiar humiliation washed over you. together, you walked out into the harsh night, the cool air doing little to calm your rising anxiety.

“what the hell was that about?” you asked, your voice strained.

“why were you flirting with her? you were practically hanging off her every word!” minjeong's dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with an unhinged fury. it terrified you. ot wasn't the minjeong you fell in love with, but rather a version twisted by insecurities you couldn’t massage away.

“i wasn’t flirting!” you insisted. “you’re being unreasonable. everybody was just having fun!”

“fun for you, maybe,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “i suppose it’s fun to watch you toy with someone else’s feelings.”

each syllable that slipped from her lips cut deeper than the last, practically shredding at your shared history. you tried to calm her down, stammering words of reassurance, but her only response was a silence so deafening it echoed.

from that point on, things escalated to new heights, a spiraling mess of fights that felt more reminiscent of a battle than the love you had once shared. just a few days later, at a small diner down the street, the situation hit a new low. as the waitress placed the tray on the table, you turned just in time to see her chuckling at something, probably because she thought it was adorable how you misread the name of your coffee when ordering earlier—a routine occurrence that had never bothered minjeong before. perhaps it was the way you returned the smile, or the lingering moment that stretched too long, but something snapped inside her.

the laughter was innocent; the exchange friendly. yet, to minjeong, it was tantamount to treachery.

“let’s go,” she said suddenly, her voice flat.

“what? but we just sat down!” you exclaimed, confusion mixing with exasperation. you detected the faintest tremble in her lips, a prelude to a full-blown tantrum.

“... did you say "but"? seriously?” she questioned, fury painting her voice. you barely had a chance to register the words before minjeong swept her arm across the table, sending the coffee cup crashing to the floor, splattering the waitress and staining the ground with bitterness.

“i’m so sorry!” you blurted, mortification flooding through you as you scrambled to your feet. the waitress stood stunned, and in that moment, your heart shattered into pieces. you apologized repeatedly while trying to help clean the mess, feeling Minjeong’s simmering rage heat the air around you.

“let’s just go,” she demanded, her eyes burning with fury as if challenging you to argue. but deep down, you were terrified of what she might do next. 

she stormed out, leaving you behind to pay for a meal that hadn’t touched your lips but felt heavier than any weight you had ever lifted. you left a generous tip, hoping to at least make amends for minjeong’s volatile behavior, but shame mixed with the taste of your muffled indignation as you left the café.

as you stepped out into the chilly evening air, the weight of it all crashed down on you. you briefly glanced back into the diner to catch a glimpse of minjeong. she stood there, a silhouette against the light, arms crossed, focused on something entirely beyond you. the realization crashed into you like a swift wave—you were lost in a relationship that had morphed into something toxic, a cycle of blame, punishment, and endless misunderstanding.

days of fighting would follow, each one leaving you increasingly drained. you learned to navigate carefully around her feelings, tiptoeing through conversations, wrestling with the fear of provoking another outburst. apologizing became a daily ritual, but it was a fool’s game, as though you were playing chess with a master who already knew all your moves.

nothing you did seemed to satisfy her, and every time you tried to stand your ground, she would employ that give-and-take tactic, leaving you scrambling to retrieve whatever ounce of affection you could salvage.

"you never understand what i need from you!" she'd cry, casting you a withering glare designed to pierce your heart.

you started dreading the moments you once cherished: evenings spent binge-watching shows, the casual strolls in the park, the intimate whispers shared in candle-lit corners of your favorite café. they all became tainted by her increasing paranoia and fury. in those moments, you didn’t catch a glimpse of the girl you fell for; instead, you stared back at a stranger who seemed to lose herself deeper in a well of insecurity with each fight.

what could you say to her to bridge the widening chasm? you wondered quietly if calling her out would work. but it always ended the same.

even in the stillness of your home, you could feel the shadows of her disappointment lurking. sometimes, as you lay in bed, you swore you could hear their whispers, taunting you to spur another confrontation. a ghost of the life you’d built together haunted your dreams, resurfacing in disorienting fragments where laughter hid behind walls built from distrust and rage.

to think, this all started with a simple argument. you sometimes daydreamed of how different your life could be without this turmoil, wondering nervously what life would look like if you weren't continuously tiptoeing around the storm that now defined your relationship with minjeong.

but in the end, naive hope lingered, refusing to extinguish despite the tempest that raged around you. you wanted to believe that one day, she would look at you with warmth restored, rather than that silent judgment that twisted her from within. you held on—because even through the tumult and the strife, there were threads of love that still remained, fragile and uncertain as they wove your lives together, if just for the moment.

the engine hums softly, a white noise glazed over with tension, as you sit in the passenger seat of minjeong’s car. the world outside the window is an endless parade of trees, stretching far enough to feel infinite, but you can’t look away from the gnawing uncertainty that festers in your chest. the conversation that should have been had weeks ago hovers between you, palpable and toxic. as the cityscape fades into desolation, the weight of your relationship stretches thin, hanging by a thread.

you take a deep breath, your chest constricting as you prepare yourself for what you know must be said. conversations about love and loss echo in your mind, gnawing at your resolve. when minjeong’s hand rests on your thigh, a gesture once sweet and comforting, it now feels nearly suffocating. the warmth dissipates under the coolness of your apprehension.

“minjeong, can we talk?” you finally utter, your voice catching slightly in your throat, sounding smaller than you intended.

“what’s up?” she replies, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, though her grip tightens around the wheel.

you hesitate, glancing out the side window at the rushing landscape, the deep green blurring past. “it’s just… i don’t feel that spark anymore,” you say, the words feeling like stones tumbling down a cliff. instantly, the air thickens with disbelief, and you can’t bear to meet her eyes, now glinting with uncertainty in the rearview mirror.

“what do you mean you don’t feel the spark?” she questions with an edge of panic, her tone shifting from casual to razor-sharp, slicing through the tension thickening in the car.

the argument spirals from there, each of you grappling for the upper hand, your voices rising dangerously. you can barely process the words spilling from your mouth as you try to articulate your truth. her eyes flicker with hurt and rage, and you can almost feel the hair on your arms standing on end, bristling under the weight of her indignation.

“there’s something fundamentally broken between us, minjeong! i don’t know who we are anymore!” you’re shouting now, and a rush of adrenaline floods your body.

“i can’t believe you think this is all my fault!” she fires back, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. the car swerves slightly, and you dig your heels into the ground, a jolt of panic coursing through you as the pavement blurs into a double line.

“just focus on driving!” you shout, but it’s too late. you hear her breath hitch, the silence that follows layered thick with unshed tears and suppressed rage. “minjeong, please—”

suddenly, without warning, she jerks the wheel to the side, bringing the car to a sudden stop on the desolate roadside. dust swirls around in the golden glow of late afternoon, the world stilled around you, as if holding its breath along with you.

“what did you just say?” she repeats, her voice trembling with disbelief. her expression morphs, the initial hurt twisting into something darker, and even more frightening.

the air thickens, and you realize you’ve stepped too far. you don’t even recognize the fury in her eyes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and throws the door open, storming out into the open air. your heart races as her figure becomes small against the vastness of the road.

“minjeong, wait!” you call after her, moving to open your own door, only to find you’re locked inside. panic sets in as the automatic locks click ominously, sealing you in with your spiraling thoughts. you pound your fists against the window, frustration clawing at you.

“minjeong!” you shout, trying to wrangle her attention, your voice quaking. she stumbles into your peripheral vision, her back toward you, shoulders taut. then, in an instant, she disappears. heart pounding, you swivel around, confusion spilling into fear.

that’s when you see it. the unmistakable sheen of liquid splattering against the windshield, an eerie reflection of your horror mirrored in the glass. the smell is pungent, and your heart drops as you grasp what is happening.

“minjeong, don’t!” you scream, desperation clawing at your throat, but she doesn't seem to hear you. she is lost to whatever abyss has consumed her; the girl you once knew has vanished.

the gasoline coats the car, pooling in strange little rivulets that trace the car’s contours as minjeong stands in front of you, lost in a trance. a match flickers in her fingers, its flame dancing dangerously close to your cloud of panic. she holds it delicately, her expression unreadable—caught between rage and an eerie calm.

“watch,” she whispers, her voice almost saccharine, but there’s an undertone that sends chills racing through you. “this will bring the spark back, i promise.”

in one quick motion, she tosses the match into the pool of gasoline. time slows; the world compresses into a singular moment of fate sealing itself. 

your heart pounds against your ribs as the flames erupt, turning the world outside into a hellish kaleidoscope of oranges and reds. minjeong’s eyes glimmer with a wildness, a furious passion that you had long thought was reserved for love. it was intoxicating, but now it feels more like poison. the air around you thickens with fumes, panic rising in your throat as you grasp the reality of your situation. she’s gone off the deep end, and you’re trapped inside her fiery cage.

you slam on the windows with both fists, the sound muffled and desperate. “minjeong! open the door!” your voice is panicked, twisting into a shout that echoes through the confines of the vehicle. at first, she appears unfazed, a haunting smirk dancing on her lips. the atmosphere is electric—dangerous and exhilarating—yet your thoughts betray you, reminding you of the dull ache that has settled between you like an invisible rift.

your heart races as the flames erupt, engulfing the car and devouring the serenity that had once swirled between you and minjeong. the acrid scent of smoke fills the small space, mingling with the gasoline that blankets every surface. you pound on the glass, your fists an echo of disbelief and desperation, but minjeong just stares at you, a wild light in her eyes—a far cry from the sweet girl you once held in your arms.

as the flames lick at the trunk and crawl toward the driver’s seat, the heat creeps in, threatening to suffocate you. but more than the heat, it is the sight of her, standing there like a goddess of vengeance, that haunts your mind. where did the girl you love go? the girl who would curl up on the couch with you, giggling at inside jokes, the one who held your hand tightly on late nights?

“minjeong! stop!” your voice is hoarse, but the urgency rings clear. fear gnaws at you, and instinct pushes you to escape. you claw at the doors, your fingers dancing over the locks, but they don't budge. locked. the word loops in your mind, almost too much to bear.

she takes a step back, hitting the pause button on the chaos she has ignited. with trembling hands, you watch her, searching for a glimmer of recognition in her features, something that would remind you of the girl who laughed at your silly jokes and filled your weekends with warmth. Instead, you see a stranger, one who stands poised at the edge of insanity, her smile a grotesque mask on her face.

“did you really think you could just push me aside so easily?” she sneers, the smile twisting into something ugly. “you think you can just extinguish what we had—what i feel?”

you open your mouth to respond, but your breath catches as the fire flickers and dances, threatening to reach through the windshield. the world outside is muted now, as though the encroaching flames siphon away all sound. “minjeong, i care about you! i didn’t mean it like that!” you lean forward, the moisture in your eyes blurring the edges of her silhouette.

“care about me?” she echoes mockingly, the words dripping like venom. “it’s too late for that!” Her laughter rings hollow, shrill against the ominous crackling of fire.

and suddenly, she lunges forward, banging on the glass with the same frantic fervor that fills your chest. “you don’t see it, do you? this is the spark! you killed it! you have no idea what you’ve lost!”

hot tears mingle with the smoke that begins to creep in. panic swells; you lean back against the seat, the metal frame hot against your skin. “please, minjeong! we can talk about this! We can fix it!”

but the light in her eyes dims further, replaced by an overlay of anguish. “fix it?” she whispers, so soft it barely pierces the roar of the flames. “you think you can put a band-aid on this? you’ve already broken what we had. you’ve turned your back on me.”

in that moment, it’s clear that every moment together, every late night and laughter shared, has unraveled into nothingness. you remember the smiles, the moments of tenderness, the nights spent plotting futures together. but now, those echoes fade into oblivion, shattered by this haunting betrayal you never intended.

as the flames crack and wax, throwing shadows across her glassy visage, you strain against the seatbelt, desperate, panicking at the thought of losing her—losing everything you once held dear. “im sorry!” an apology that feels paltry escapes your lips, barely serving to bridge the chasm that has formed between you.

and with a strength you couldn’t comprehend, she tears down the remainder of the emotional barriers between sanity and chaos. as you edge closer, weighed down by the fear that wraps around your throat like a vice, she crumbles. the match she holds wavers, and you catch a glimpse of your minjeong again—a fleeting shadow, a flashing whisper of the girl who loved you fiercely.

you can’t let her go back to this. “listen to me, please! i never wanted to hurt you! i—”

you try to think of ways to escape, but the navy blue interior surrounds you like the jaws of a beast, each lock holding you in place as if the car itself is complicit in this tragedy. “stop this, please!” you scream, voice breaking on the last word. “i didn’t mean it like that! we can talk!”

her gaze flickers, a brief moment of uncertainty flashing in her eyes. it almost seems she is weighing her options, wondering if the anger she feels is worth the girl standing inside the car. you find yourself holding your breath. 

but it’s too late. the flame dances gracefully from her fingertips, and she lets it go, a careless act that sends shockwaves of fear through you. time slows as you watch it fall, the world narrowing to the small, flickering flame that lands on the gasoline-soaked surface of the car. it ignites with an eager roar, consuming the air around you in an instant.

you recoil, bracing yourself against the back of the seat as the fire spreads, heat prickling your skin. the stench of burning gasoline fills your lungs, and the choking smoke twists and turns, curling toward you like a dark hand that wants to pull you into its depths.

“why?” you gasp, your voice a thin wisp of disbelief. is this truly the person you once adored, the one you held under the glow of a streetlight and whispered your dreams to? as the flames grow taller, licking hungrily at the roof, you realize just how far you have drifted from the joyous heights of your early love.

“why?” she mimics, voice eerily calm amidst the chaos of the roaring flames. “because you wanted the spark? you’ve taken everything! sweet moments, tender touches—they were all because of your idea of love! this is what it looks like when you strip away the façade!”

y ou take a deep breath and lean forward, desperate to connect with her again, to reach through the haze of madness and remind her of all that was good between you. “minjeong, please! this isn’t you! let’s just talk—”

your words hang suspended in the air, but she remains unmoved. you can see the resolve etched into her features, a tragic conviction that seems to make her larger than life even in the midst of this crisis. you brace for the worst, your heart thundering in your chest. her face, once the definition of warmth, is now a tempest of rage, pain, and heartbreak.

the very essence of your relationship burns behind her eyes, and there, in that harrowing moment, you fear you’re witnessing the end of everything you’d built together. “you wanted the spark, didn't you?” she shouts, voice cracking under pressure, blending anger and sorrow. “you think you’re just going to walk away from this? no more empty promises!”

you feel it then—the crushing weight of reality crashing down on you. you are two people who have lost sight of why you fell in love in the first place. you have become strangers anchored by memories, and it hurts just as much to acknowledge it as it does to see the fire grow around you.

“minjeong, please!” your eyes burn from the smoke, but there’s a flicker of something within you—an ember of hope. “we can fix this! i didn’t mean to hurt you! i still care about you, i—”

but all she hears is betrayal wrapped in weakness. “you care?” she laughs bitterly, wiping away a tear that trails down her cheek, mingling with the sweat of her panic. “is this what caring looks like?”

moments stretch on as you process her anguish; the flames haven’t just engulfed the vehicle, but they’re consuming the last bits of clarity in the conversation. she takes a step back from the car, eyes wide, the wildness giving way to uncertainty.

desperation drives you as you shout, “minjeong! open the door! we can talk!” you slam your palm against the windows, creating a rhythmic pattern of thuds, shouts blending into chaos.

she watches you through the flames now, the mad gleam returning to her eyes. “talk? do you really think we can talk? this is us now! this is what we were!” the flames illuminate her, making her look almost otherworldly, distorting the very features you once adored.

she watches you, and for a flicker of eternity, it feels like she might relent. the fire licks at the edges of the foam seats, and you can see the panic setting in her eyes, too, now. “you think it’s over?” minjeong asks, her voice barely rising above the roar of the heat. “it’s just beginning!”

she gives you one last look, then turns on her heel, walking away from the car, away from you, running away from the chaos she started.

and in that heartbeat, the flicker from her gaze changes—it morphs into a realization. the spark of love flares within her eyes, a tiny flame that could either save you or plunge you into darkness. what will it be, you wonder?

but will it reach you before the flames burn everything to ash? time is slipping, and you’re left battling a love you once cherished, now clawing at it with words that barely feel like enough.

as the heat intensifies and the situation ticks dangerously close to a breaking point, you wonder if love, once passionate, can be rekindled, or if it is destined to blaze out in a storm of fury and flames. would it matter if you escape if the love is lost in the inferno?

[three--rings]

At a holiday party with a bunch of ladies younger than men and one brought up how she went to a spa and was so glad no one else had shaved. And everyone was like "yeah I haven't shaved in a month" or "yeah it's been like 4 months for me" and I said "yeah it's been about 15 years for me."

And I told them the exact same thing as this post. "No one has ever given me one problem about it. I go to the beach, swimming, whatever, my leg hair is dark. No one notices. No one looks. It's not a thing. Free yourselves."

Do you know how much better unshaved hair feels than prickly stubble all the time? Both for you and partners.

sometimes i wish i could tell other women that you can just stop removing your body hair and in many cases the consequences will be way less severe than u expect. you can go to the beach with all your leg hair intact and nobody will stop you or say a thing. you can stop waxing your upper lip and people won’t stare at it the way u might be bracing yourself for. you can quit plucking your brows and eventually they will grow back into themselves and no one will even notice. like for sure women are punished for not participating in beauty rituals but i also feel like so much of it is like The Panopticon sometimes where you just convince yourself that if u stop that kind of gendered upkeep everyone will be mad and stop talking to u forever when in reality you just keep existing and nothing remarkable happens. it’s not always easy but you can kind of just stop for real

[electrosuite]

okay. al. i need something put into words. idk if you've seen it but in "we live in time" andrew and florence didn't hear cut when filming a sex scene. so i was wondering. could you do something where eddie has taken up acting. it's an experimental movie, so y'all are actually fucking. it's unsimulated sex. y'all don't hear cut, but you're so into it that neither of you stop. you don't notice until he cums, then you both remember the cameras.

warnings: swearing, fingering oral sex, descriptive sex, sex on camera

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i saw we live in time opening week and absolutely loved it. put andrew garfield's bare ass in more movies!!!

masterlist

One of the best decisions you'd made was moving to Hollywood to pursue acting. You loved it, and you were a natural. You could make yourself cry on command, you often lost yourself in scenes, and you weren't afraid to get nude on camera. That was something that was pretty common for the 80s, specifically female nudity.

You'd filmed many sex scenes in your career, but they were all simulated. Prosthetics, body doubles, cushions between bodies. But when you were approached to do an experimental film, one with completely unsimulated sex, your curiosity was piqued.

You were told you wouldn't meet the other actor until the day of, which turned out to be the first day on set. You were told that some studios, this one included, preferred to get sex scenes out of the way first and film the rest after. Your first impression of this guy would be when you had sex with him.

So when you were sitting on set in your tight black dress — which would be removed in the scene — and he walked in, your eyes widened. He was very handsome, just your type. He had long curly black hair, he was covered in tattoos, and immediately started joking around with the crew. He was wearing a suit, one which fit his body nicely.

When he spotted you, he walked right over and sat next to you.

"You my co-star?" he asked in a hopeful tone.

"That would be me."

"Eddie." He stuck his hand out and you shook it.

"Y/N."

"You look familiar. I feel like I've seen you in something else before."

"Maybe. Sorry, but I don't recognize you."

"I haven't been in anything big, just a couple of low-budget movies." He noticed your nervous energy. "You okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, just... I've never done anything... real. It's always been fake sex."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Well, it's a first for both of us, then. It's a first-first for me, I've never done anything like this."

"Really?"

"Yep. Never even taken my shirt off on camera."

"And you're just jumping right in, huh?"

"Why not? If I'm gonna do it, I might as well go all in."

"Well, are you at least experienced?" you joked.

"Oh, I'm experienced. Yeah." You chuckled. "Also, I was told to tell you that they had me go ahead and put a condom on so it wouldn't disrupt the flow or anything. They said you were pretty adamant about it."

"Thank god. I really don't want to leave here today pregnant."

This made both of you laugh, but it was true. That was the most important thing to you when agreeing to do this movie.

"Alright, actors in positions," announced the director, who settled into his chair next to the camera.

Before you could get up, Eddie looked back at you. "Hey, I know we'll be recording, but don't let that stop you from telling me if I'm crossing any boundaries, alright?"

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Thank you."

"Of course."

The scene immediately started with the two of you standing at the edge of a bed, inches away from each other. So that's where you went, your calves touching the mattress.

You'd read over the script for this scene numerous times. There was a camera a few feet from the bed, and one strapped onto the ceiling above where you would be laying. Neither of you would speak, just moan.

You were getting more nervous by the second, the lack of space between you two making your heart pound.

"Hey," he whispered, making eye contact with you. "You still good?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I'm good." You got yourself into the acting mindset as they finalized the cameras. "Ready."

"Quiet on set," yelled the director. Everyone hushed, the silence making you realize how many eyes were on you. "Action!"

You reached up and slowly undid Eddie's tie, his eyes never leaving your face. Once it was on the floor, he pulled you in for a kiss. It was gentle yet deep, both of you taking in a deep breath. His hands gripped your sides, your palms flat against his chest.

He reached around you and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. He then effortlessly unhooked your bra and you pulled it off of yourself. So far this was exactly like some of the other scenes you'd filmed. It was always a little bit nerve-wracking to expose yourself on camera — how could it not be?

He pushed you down onto the bed, his knees on the edge between yours.

He wasn't supposed to kiss you as long as he did. It was only supposed to be a couple before he moved on, but he was going off script a bit. His hand cupped the breast visible to the camera, which was now a bit closer.

He began kissing down to your neck a bit, then trailing along your body. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, his tongue circling it. You couldn't help but tangle your fingers in his hair, knowing it would help the scene.

As he kissed down your body, he maintained eye contact with you, watching to make sure you were still comfortable with this. Once he was to your thighs, he knelt down next to the bed and pulled you by the legs closer to him.

He slowly pulled your underwear off, dropping them on top of your dress. He continued to leave kisses on your thighs, making a genuine and impatient whine escape your mouth.

The feeling of his tongue on your clit made you gasp, your hands immediately finding their way back to his hair. This was weird with cameras, and at first it made it hard for you to really get in the mood.

But he was good with his tongue. You were so used to fake moaning that the real ones that came out of you felt foreign. His hands on your thighs, keeping them spread, were also keeping your hips still.

Usually when you filmed cunnilingus scenes, they kept their mouth closed and just positioned their face between your legs. So it was a foreign feeling to actually be eaten out on camera.

He couldn't stop staring at you, you looked so beautiful. Your head thrown back, back arched, tits out and nipples hard, fingers pulling his hair.

He wasn't supposed to make you cum, the script didn't call for it. He was supposed to do this for about thirty seconds and move on to the actual sex. But he was told that if the scene lasted too long, they could just edit it down. So he decided before even meeting you that he would make sure you had at least one orgasm today.

And it didn't take you long to get there. The camera had moved now so that it was behind him and to the side, getting a shot of his back and your face simultaneously.

"Fuck," you whispered to yourself as you felt your orgasm approaching, and fast. You were worried about how you would look, actually cumming and being recorded. You were trying to remain as calm as you possibly could, but you'd never been eaten out like this.

You were much louder than you anticipated when you finally came, and Eddie had to hold you down to keep you in the shot. When he finally stopped, he was immediately back to kissing you. He was still fully clothed, so you pushed his jacket off of his shoulders.

Instead of unbuttoning his shirt, he just pulled it over his head. He had a beautiful body, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You reached down and helped remove his belt, but he took over a moment later.

Within a minute, he was completely nude, and you got a good view of what he was packing. You were told before the shoot that you'd be having unprotected sex, and as you were already on birth control, it wasn't that big of a deal to you. Or at least, it wasn't until you were finally here. Now it was sinking in that you were about to be creampied by a guy you just met less than five minutes ago.

He was already rock hard, the sounds that escaped your mouth having gotten him bricked up immediately. He loved giving oral. It was one of his favorite things in the world. If it was up to him, he would've kept going, gotten you completely out of your mind before fucking your brains out.

He positioned himself back at eye level with you, reaching down and lining himself up with your entrance.

"That okay?" he whispered into your neck as he pressed kisses to your skin. He wasn't supposed to say that, the script calling for no dialogue aside from the natural swears that would occur. But he'd already gone against it, and asking for consent was something he insisted on.

"Mm," you moaned simply, nodding as minimally as possible.

With zero hesitation, he pushed into you, and the gasp that filled the room was almost comical. It was such a perfect porno moan that you couldn't believe it was genuine, even though it came from you.

He stretched you out so much, so perfectly, you weren't sure you could handle much of this. It was almost too much, too good.

He engulfed your mouth into his, kissing you deeply as he immediately picked up his pace. The bed was already squeaking, and your chest was already red.

The camera was above your head now, recording from an angle that showed the top of your thighs and your head thrown back as Eddie began sucking hickeys onto the skin of your neck.

That was when the scene was supposed to end. It was the shortest one in the script, which was another reason they wanted to get it over with first. But when the director shouted "Cut!", neither of you could hear him over the animalistic moans you both were letting out.

In fact, he called it about three times. But you two were so immersed, and your moans were so loud in each other's ears that it was useless. After a moment and after all the equipment was put down, the entire crew left the room and just allowed you to finish.

Out of all the times you'd had sex before, you didn't expect the best to be a completely scripted one. Eddie wasn't lying when he said he was experienced, he knew how to hit every nook in cranny in you like it was the millionth time.

When he felt himself getting close, he reached down and began circling your clit with his thumb. In the movies he'd seen, they always came at the same time. That didn't happen much in real life, but he wanted to make it look cinematic because, to his knowledge, they were still filming.

You gasped at the sudden contact, not expecting it. Thirty seconds later, you were cumming in sync, moaning into each other's mouths. He kept it going as long as he could but eventually he had to stop. Both his and your legs were trembling, sweat beading on your upper lip.

He kissed you for a moment, thinking in his head how great that would look on camera.

But when you both looked over at where the crew was, they were gone. You were confused, wondering why they didn't film as much as possible.

"Oh my god," you said, looking back up at Eddie. "Did they yell cut?"

His eyes widened. "Did they?"

"Did you hear them at all?"

"No, I didn't. Did you?"

"No."

You couldn't help but giggle at the situation. "Holy fucking shit."

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck."

"That's kind of hilarious."

He pulled out of you, pulling the condom off before grabbing one of the robes from the crates behind the camera, tossing another one to you. He opened the door to the rest of the set and the crew's heads shot up to look at him.

"Did... you yell cut?" he asked the director.

"Yep. Three times. You guys were so into it we figured we'd just let you finish."

That was when you laughed even harder, your head fuzzy and body tired.

After everything was cleaned up and you were heading back to your trailers, you caught up with Eddie outside his.

"Sorry we didn't hear cut earlier," you apologized.

"I'm not." He smirked slyly, and you felt butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"Do you think you'd do something like this again? Real sex on a set?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. With the right person."

"Well, if I get another opportunity like this, you're the first person I'm recommending."

"God, please do." His voice was raspy now, seductive, sultry. Normally you didn't pay any mind to men who flirted with you. But something about actually fucking Eddie seemed to form some kind of bond, maybe just in your head.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a napkin, which had your phone number written on it. You leaned in close, wanting this to stay between the two of you.

"Well, if you ever want to do something without cameras, call me." You turned around to walk to your trailer, his eyes glued to your ass the whole time.

He swore he could get rock hard again right now if he wanted to. Something was different about you. You were one of the best fucks he'd ever had, and he intended on using that phone number sometime soon.

[ms-demeanor]

are there really chiropractors out there right now who are claiming they can treat all that stuff?? im really actually asking because ive never seen anything like that at all, but obviously i might just be really lucky. i constantly see people saying chiropractors claim they can treat everything, and its just baffling to me. my chiropractor is pretty young (so maybe she just doesnt have the same attitude as older ones?) and went to med school for physical therapy before becoming a chiropractor, and shes the only doctor out of the dozens ive seen who already knew what hyper-mobile ehlers-danlos syndrome is before meeting me. shes never once said anything about treating anything at all beyond the issues in my back from my muscles going whack, and has actually suggested i see a physical therapist (and referred me to one) to strengthen my back so i dont have to see her very often. i assumed that was the normal experience with chiropractors, but did i just luck out? are the majority of chiropractors really insane and claiming they can cure diabetes and stuff?? thats so crazy to think about...

Just to clarify: your chiropractor is not a doctor. Having a doctorate in physical therapy does not make one an MD, having a DC degree does not make one an MD. People who become physical therapists go to school for physical therapy, but that wouldn't really be called medical school any more than getting a degree in nutrition would be called medical school.

I want to be very firm here because you're using the words "medical school" and "doctor" and that indicates to me that she IS claiming to be more than what she actually is, which is a chiropractor and possibly a physical therapist, both of which have requirements that pale in comparison to the training that MDs (or even nurse practitioners or physician's assistants) go through. But chiropractors really like to let people believe that they're doctors. They're not. They're chiropractors.

It's a very good thing that your chiropractor has told you to seek other care for your back pain; neck and spinal adjustments are potentially life threatening to people who don't have connective tissue disorders and are *extremely* dangerous and an even greater risk for people who DO have hypermobility issues (check out what @thebibliosphere has to say about chiropractic and EDS). A licensed physical therapist will be able to do much, much more for you than a chiropractor, and is a MUCH safer choice.

Now, all of that being said:

Yeah it's super common for chiropractors to claim they can treat all kinds of nonsense and when they're doing so it is probably technically illegal and if they actually treat stuff it's probably technically practicing medicine without a license and can be really fucking dangerous if it convinces people to forgo evidence-based treatment.

Here's a chiropractor in LA claiming to treat a laundry list of ailments:

Here's one also in LA county whose yelp photo is of her doing spinal manipulation on a baby (Literally never ever let a chiropractor treat your child it can no-shit kill them) and offering prenatal and perinatal care

Here's a guy in North Hollywood claiming to treat asthma and allergies with chiropractic:

It's not the majority of chiropractors, but it's more than you'd want.

[f0ofishies]

Don't look back

Being apart of the itoshi family, others might seem you've got lucky being blessed by two superstars of footballers. Now you're not as good as them, but you did used to have the same passion as them. You remembered when you were little— straining your ankle crying like a baby. You remembered vividly on how Sae's arms held you up as Rin was already running up to your parents. "Mama..! she's hurt..!"

"Rin, that hurts..!" Your little whined echoed through out your own bedroom. He was tending to your foot, with some cream to soothe your injured ankle. "But its supposed to be—" Sae couldn't help but sigh, "Let me do it." His voice caught the both of you off guard. "I thought you had school?" Your voice interrupting the silence.

"I skipped." Both you and Rin had widened eyes. "No fair!" Rin taunted as you agreed with him. "Yeah, no fair..!" It wasn't until you both stopped complaining that Sae had bribed you both to play on his Nintendo DS. So the whole day, the three of you were just sucked into the game— both claiming it'll help with the recovery of a sprained ankle... it really wasn't.

Now that was a distant memory, another one you also remembered was when you were waiting for your family in the airport. Before Sae could even board the plane to go to spain— you've unexpectedly ran towards him.. puffed up cheeks, tears streaming down. You crashed into his chest as you sobbed. "Don't leave—!"

A plea came out of your mouth as Sae couldn't help but hug you as tightly as you did to him. Even Rin joined in on the hug, his arms wrapped around the both of you. "I'll come back.." You whined once more, burying your face into his shirt soaking the fabric. "You gotta promise—" You remembered the silly little pinky promise he did to you before he left.

Watching Sae come home from Spain— broke your heart. "Sae..?" You called out to him, he looked cold and that scared the teenager you. "What do you want?" You froze in your place, "Rin is still out late.. can you fetch him?" Your voice low as you watched your oldest brother leave. And that was when Rin came back home, but Sae didn't. "Rin where's—" "I don't want to talk, sis."

It was even worse when Rin got accepted to bluelock. You huffed going out to see Rin practicing near your house, "Rin..! You haven't eaten!" You watched as he ignored your pleas— he was kicking the many footballs aligned to the goals.

"It's getting late, come back inside, please!" One thing led to another, and that was when Rin kicked the ball to your direction as you narrowly dodged it. "What the hell, Rin—"

"Shut up! I don't need your concerns. And I dont need a little sister."

That statement broke you, you've just locked yourself in your own bedroom. Both parents didn't know how to handle the both of you, so when Rin left— their little ray of sunshine daughter was gone. Highschool started, you couldn't balance them at all. Grades failing faster than you could even count the number of days that passed.

You've had it— you couldn't care less what happened to your brothers. The news displaying their names, your parents joyous for their sons while you shut off the news rolling your own eyes. You were going to change, and that was when you saw a college worth going, it even had its own foundation. And now we're back at the present, of where your true life started.

You've fallen in love, made friends, got broken up with, and even moved to another country far from Japan without the support of your own brothers. Rin and Sae weren't on your mind anymore, nor did you even care on checking up on them. It wasn't until someone had said two young men were looking for her.

Opening the dormitory door to see both Rin and Sae, covered in their big puffy jackets. You froze, looking up at them. Before one of them could speak, "Don't." They both were here— why? Did your parents tell them? You wanted to slam the door in front of their faces. "We were worried... how come you didn't ask us to go to your high school graduation?"

You scoffed, "I never had one—" They both froze now, but Rin came forward. "How?" You bit your lip, "I went into foundation before I could graduate, but of course, how could you know? Football was more important." Sae sighed. "You know that's not—" "But it is the truth..! Or are you blind?" Your words echoed in the hallways. Both Itoshi brothers froze at the harsh words.

"You know Blue lock changed my career.." Rin whispered, approaching you, you backed away. "Yeah, and completely wrecked our connection as siblings." Sae interrupted, "And I was busy with the—" "Don't even talk, you have no right.. when you left out of nowhere!" Your voice echoed, it mightve made people heard the commotion going in the dormitory.

"What I want both of you is to leave and never come back because I'm not your little sister anymore." They both looked shocked— how could you say that to them? "But you are our.." You had to push Sae away from you, it was clear they didn't thought things through. They just wanted to see you, their little sister on where she's been.. even going as far to approach her.

"No, she died when you both left and never looked back. Now leave."