#spreading current affairs

[nekucreates]

I swear that trying to watch normal TV is like watching paint dry.

*proceeds to put on YouTube in the background while I draw, and get a million ads*

But at least I can choose what I get to watch, as I always want to go apeshit whenever normal TV airs the same pawnshop shows and episodes over and over. Cannot stand the people on those shows.

[redgoldsparks]

I am not excited about Harris as a candidate, but I will be voting for her in this upcoming election. This is why→

(full transcript under the cut)

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

“Transgender ideology” to be classified as pornography & excluded from First Amendment protection. Authors who produce & distribute it threatened with prison. Educators & public librarians who share it classed as registered sex offenders. communications & technology firms that facilitate its spread shuttered. -Project 2025, page 5

Delete the terms sexual orientation, gender identity, diversity, equity, & inclusion, gender equality, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights, out of every federal rule, contract, grant, regulation, & piece of legislation that exist. -Project 2025 page 5

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Victimization should not be a basis for an immigration benefit. -Project 2025, page 141

Increase all fees for asylum applications, limit the availability of fee waivers. -Project 2025, page 146

Mandatory appropriation for border wall system infrastructure. -Project 2025, page 147

Deny loan access to those who are not U.S. citizens or lawful permanent residents & deny loan access to students at schools that provide in-state tuition to illegal aliens. -Project 2025, page 167

Ensure that only U.S. citizens & lawful permanent residents utilize or occupy federally subsidized housing. -Project 2025, page 167

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Encourage intelligence agencies not to waste effort collecting surveillance data when they can buy it from private sector facial recognition companies. -Project 2025, page 206

Defund the Corporation for Public Broadcast, specifically NPR & PBS educational programs like Sesame Street. -Project 2025, pages 246-247

The USDA will not be able to place environmental issues ahead of agricultural production. Reconsider the Food Stamps program. -Project 2025, page 290

Labeling regulations that unnecessarily delay the manufacture & sale of baby formula should be re-evaluated. -Project 2025, page 302

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Eliminate the Community Eligibility Program which allows school districts with high rates of poverty to offer meals to all students without having to qualify each student individually. No longer provide meals to students during the summer unless students are taking summer-school classes. -Project 2025, page 303

No public education employee shall use a pronoun in addressing a student that is different from that student’s biological sex without written permission of the parents or guardians. -Project 2025 page 346

Delete reporting on which educational institutions claim religious exemption from Title IX. -Project 2025 page 357

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Gut the Office for Civil Rights’ power to prosecute any kind of discrimination in public schools. -Project 2025, page 357

Eliminate the Office of Fossil Energy & Carbon Management -Project 2025 page 377

Eliminate the stand-alone Office of Environmental Justice & External Civil Rights -Project 2025, page 421

Restructure the Office of International & Tribal Affairs into the American Indian Environmental Office -Project 2025, page 421

Eliminate the Office of Public Engagement & Environmental Education -Project 2025, page 421

Pause all action of the Environmental Protection Agency for review. -Project 2025, page 422

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Center for Disease Control stripped of the ability to suggest that schools embrace masking or vaccination strategies. -Project 2025, page 454

All states will be required to submit detailed information about pregnancies, abortions & miscarriages to a federal database. -Project 2025, page 455

The medication Mifepristone, a life-saving drug used to stop deadly postpartum hemorrhages that’s also used in chemical abortions, will be banned. -Project 2025, pages 458-459

Artificial intelligence should be used to determine what is suitable treatment for those currently covered by Medicare. -Project 2025, page 463

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Repeal the Inflation Reduction Act, which implements government price controls for prescription drugs. -Project 2025, page 465

Funding for abortion travel prohibited under the Hyde Amendment. -Project 2025, page 471

End taxpayer funding of Planned Parenthood. -Project 2025, page 471

Withdraw Medicaid funds for states that require abortion insurance. -Project 2025, page 472

Hospitals will no longer be willing to perform emergency abortions, even to save the life of the mother. -Project 2025, page 473

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Rescind the Department of Health & Human Services' ability to impose a moratorium on rental evictions during COVID. -Project 2025, page 492

Rescind large portions of The Endangered Species Act & The Migratory Bird Treaty Act, reinstate Trump’s plan for opening the National Petroleum Reserve of Alaska to leasing and development. -Project 2025, page 524

Review & downsize national monuments. -Project 2025, page 532

End the Endangered Species Act’s ability to prevent economic development & de-list many currently endangered species. -Project 2025, pages 533-534

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Make it harder for workers to unionize & easier for employers to retaliate against whistleblowers & organizers. -Project 2025, pages 601-602

TikTok classified as a national security concern & made non-operational. -Project 2025, page 674

Break up National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration, including National Weather Service & National Marine Fisheries Service. -Project 2025, page 674

Downsize the Office of Oceanic & Atmospheric Research; disband its climate-change research work. -Project 2025 page 676

AND SO MUCH MORE. 

The full text of Project 2025 is available at static.project2025.org/2025_MandateForLeadership_FULL.pdf I am very grateful to stopproject2025comic.org which produced a series of very readable comics to help explain many sections of Project 2025. Some of the language in this post is taken directly from their transcripts. (You can read many of their comics here on tumblr @stopproject2025comic) Please vote against Project 2025. Our tattered democracy, healthcare, clean air & water, workers rights, reproductive rights, civil rights, intellectual freedom and more are at stake. 

[marzipanandminutiae]

I was deeply surprised to learn that people are painting the Houthis as heroes in this scenario

you know

the group that has "a curse on the Jews" as part of their official slogan, and that has repeatedly called for the eradication of all Jewish people in the Middle East

kind of makes me concerned that some people who say they're censuring Israel for the right reasons- namely, unacceptable and horrific attacks on Palestinian civilians, with further questions over whether the country should exist vis a vis colonialism -have something more sinister going on

(in the same vein as some of the more extreme commentary that makes me say "you. you guys know Hamas is bad, right? that not every action claimed to oppose the Israeli government is good/justified/even really doing that? I thought we were all on the same page here, but you're starting to worry me")

[thesunsethour]

little bits of irish history for curious hozier fans: street signs edition

Do you love the song Butchered Tongue? Pay attention to these lines here:

So, may I draw your attention to the The Official Languages Act 2003 (Section 9) Regulations 2008 (S.I. No. 391 of 2008).

ok stay with me

In 2008, the Irish government passed legislation that made it mandatory for road signs in Ireland to have both Irish (Gaeilge) AND English names on them (or, in Gaeltacht areas where Gaeilge is still the first language, only in Irish). Here’s an example:

The Irish, or Gaeilge, is always above the English and italicised. This is because that while Gaeilge and English are both official languages of Ireland, Gaeilge is the ‘first’ official language

However, while it was technically only legislated in 2008, bilingual road sings in Ireland had been extremely common for decades prior to it officially being made law. In fact, the first bilingual signs date back to the early 20th century - before our independence from Britain!

In Tom Spalding’s book Layers: The Design, History and Meaning of Public Street Signage in Cork and Other Irish Cities, he found that the first recorded bilingual street sign was in Blackrock, Dublin (An Charraig Dhubh, Baile Átha Cliath). Their local council in 1901 rolled out yellow and black bilingual road sings as part of the Gaelic Revival.

The Gaeilc Revical was a period of time in Irish history that saw a huge resurgence of Gaelic art, sport, and language. Literature was written by Irish people about Irish history, current affairs, and folklore. Traditional Irish music was learned and played again. Gaelic games (Gaelic football and Hurling) spread across the country. And Gaeilge, our language, was to experience an incredible revival.

Despite Ireland’s long colonial history, Gaeilge actually remained the majority tongue until the early 19th century. However, a combination of teachers beating children for speaking it at school, the genocide of the famine wiping out mainly poorer communities more likely to speak Gaeilge, and the knowledge that speaking English unfortunately provided more opportunities than Gaeilge, the language was almost killed off. (This is shown most clearly after the 1800 Act of Union that meant Ireland was ruled directly from London, with no parliament in Dublin).

Although these maps make for grim viewing, Irish is so very far from dead. Our children learn it from the ages of 4-18 in school (though I believe it can and should be taught better, but I digress). Gaeltacht communities are still going strong particularly in the west of the country. There are more Irish-language schools (gaelscoileanna) than ever before.

And every day as we pass by road signs that display Gaeilge proudly, it is as a result of decades, centuries of people refusing to stop speaking our mother tongue despite incredible violence.

I am far from a fluent Irish speaker, despite my 14 years of learning the language in school. But what Gaeilge I have, I have proudly.

(The work isn’t over, however. I do not feel knowledgeable enough to speak on Northern Irish efforts to implement more widespread bilingual signage but anyone who wishes to share some info please do!!)

[ham1lton]

WET DREAMZ.

pairings: sebastian vettel x reader. lewis hamilton x reader. jenson button x reader. nico rosberg x reader. fernando alonso x reader.

summary: when you move next door to a hot single dad, you take it upon yourself to seduce him. too bad for you that he uncovers your plan. you’re not exactly subtle.

warnings: sexual content. like most of this is straight up smut. mdni. explicit mentions of f!reader’s body parts. charles cameo in nico’s! implied cheating in fernando’s.

author’s note: i woke up in a fugue and wrote this as i ignored all of my adult responsibilities. show it some love <3 also no beta. we die like men.

— taglist | tip jar | feedback and requests | masterlist | ♡

SEBASTIAN VETTEL ✿

when your company allowed you to work remotely, you moved into a smaller village on the outskirts of germany. your family and friends weren’t too happy with your decision to move but with the current economic state of your country at the moment, it was great for your bank account.

your house was a modest affair, with three bedrooms but a gorgeous kitchen that gave you direct visual access into your neighbour’s backyard. the same neighbour who knocked on your door when you first moved in, with a jar of honey and some eggs as a housewarming gift. he was covered with a light sheen of sweat that would have seemed disgusting on anyone else. he introduced himself in german and switched to lightly accented english when he saw your confusion.

he’d sometimes pass you when he was walking his dog, or cycling to the farmer’s market. he’d make his kids wave hello as he’d pick them up and drop them off at their mother’s. he’d take your cakes when you’d exhausted your baking hobbies and would burst if you’d have another slice. he’d grin and smile bashfully when you told him you’d made one just the way he’d liked it.

as you watch him, he turns around and waves at you. a big grin splitting his face as you wave back. you’re so fucked. you spent an hour on facetime last night with your best friends as you went through the pros and cons of fucking your hot neighbour.

the cons outweighed the pros mostly, if it went badly you could lose access to the free gifts he’d bring by occasionally or his help when he would have a look at your car when it started spluttering when you needed to buy groceries. it would be weird too. aren’t adults supposed to be on good terms with their neighbours?

it didn’t stop you from you asking him if you could wait out the storm in his house instead of yours as all the lights had gone out and when he kissed you, you were shocked. you hadn’t needed to come up with a plan to seduce him into wanting you, because he already did.

he had you spread over his lap, his ring finger and his middle finger already in your centre. the sounds of your arousal filling the room as you fucked yourself against his digits. he smiled into the crook of your neck before kissing it.

“i knew you were this desperate for it,” he hums, his german accent thicker as he pressed his thumb lightly against your clit. he’s teasing you, and normally you’d be okay with it. playing this mutual game of cat and mouse but not when you’re this desperate to get off. “it’s okay. because i was desperate for it too.”

your eyes roll back as you reach your peak.

LEWIS HAMILTON ᯽

after your promotion, you decide to treat yourself to a summer home in monaco. it’s a flat in an expensive complex, with a pool, a gym and even a spa. you’d spend many days relaxing and enjoying the amenities or shopping with the bonus money that your boss had bestowed upon you for sealing a contract with one of the biggest businesses in your country. this was your time to relax.

yet, you couldn’t relax. as you finished your daily workout - yes you now had the time - you saw the hottest man in your entire life walk past you in a loose gym set. embarrassingly, you were filling up your water bottle which overflowed and covered you with the excess. thank god he didn’t see.

you hadn’t been much of a femme fatale, you were more of a business woman in your head. your sister told you that there wasn’t much difference between the two, just that the femme fatale chose a different line of business. it was that comment that encouraged you to start your plan of seduction.

it wasn’t working, even when you wore your best gym outfit, the one that made your ass look incredible, or when you attempted to bump into him at the complex’s coffee shop in the cute two piece that exposed your best assets. it seemed like he disappeared.

until he knocked at your door at the middle of the day, you opened it to see him dressed in a suit. for a selfish second, your thoughts drifted to him wearing this for you.

“do you mind watching my dog? roscoe is in a mood today and my usual dogsitter is busy. i have a meeting that is impossible for me to get out of. you’ll be doing me a big favour.” oh. he was british.

you smile at him, as graciously as you can. thanking god that you had just come back from brunch with the girls, so your hair and makeup were still done. you told him all about how much you love dogs and you wouldn’t mind at all watching his fur baby! you were a lovely neighbour after all.

he repaid the favour later anyways, on his knees and in between your legs. he pulls down your underwear, you had shaved in anxious preparation for this moment, your arousal leaving a stain against the fabric. he pressed his thumb against your folds before licking a stripe between them. his tongue flicking against you, as you pressed down harder on his face.

your moans were loud and unapologetic. you had a gorgeous man between your thighs, eating you out like this was his calling. he grinned at you, his face drenched in your juices. you groaned and put your hands on his braids.

now this was a holiday.

JENSON BUTTON ☆

moving to the big city was supposed to be a shock, but you took to it gracefully like a duck to water. london wasn’t the nicest to everyone but it took a liking to you. you bought a house with your best friend in a family neighbourhood with low crime rates and a high chance of getting more money when you’d both inevitably sell it in the future.

it was walkable which you loved. you could walk less then ten minutes to go shopping. you had come back with a few shopping bags when you accidentally bumped into your neighbour who was coming back from picking up his daughters. he laughs at the action as he apologises and gives a hand out for you to shake.

“i’m jenson. sorry about that, these two usually have me run off my feet!” he points at his two daughters who have already ran insider the house. “it’s like they’re my parents.”

after shaking your hand, he takes his cap off and runs a hand through his slightly greying hair. he’s wearing a pair of shorts with a loose t-shirt. it is almost summertime but the weather in london had a mind of its own. sunny one day, rainy the next and freezing for both. but jenson didn’t seem to mind the cold.

you introduce yourself and he listens intently until you realise that you have to go. there is frozen food in the bags and jenson’s daughters are calling for their post-school snack. but after that meeting, you always time your post shopping trip for when jenson comes back with the girls. your roommate/best friend doesn’t protest when you insist on the shopping being your chore but she does give you a sideways glance when she sees you chatting with jenson again on the step.

one night, you’ve come back from a date. it went awfully as per usual, although london seemed to love you and want you, the men didn’t seem to. you’re home late, when you rummage in your purse and swear loudly. you brought the wrong purse! you could call your roommate but she sleeps like the dead and probably wouldn’t answer. you’re thinking of breaking through the window when a voice calls at you.

“y/n?” jenson grins at you. “are you alright?”

after a moment, and a few minutes of arguing that you’re fine to sleep in the bushes, you’re inside jenson’s home. dressed in a pair of his old clothes. he hands you a cup of tea and puts down a packet of biscuits next to it.

“so, are you going to tell me why i caught you dressed to the nines and attempting to break through a window?” he’s trying to sound stern but he’s smiling as he says it.

“bad date,” you start and smile ruefully, taking a sip of tea. “forgot my keys and well, at least you caught me before i did any damage.”

he laughs. you laugh too but not before realising that there are probably kids sleeping in the house. you bring this up to jenson who waves off your concern.

“the girls are at their mum’s. it’s just us. don’t worry. you can be as loud as you’d like.”

you end up being very loud as you lay on his very comfortable bed. he’s tapping himself again the hood of your clit as you squirm breathless from the earlier orgasm he gave you. he smiles at you, leaning up to kiss you as he slides in, swallowing your gasps as he kisses you firmer.

“you know how long i’ve dreamt of having you like this?” he asks. you shake your head, moaning again as he fucks you harder. “since the first day you bumped into me, in that little fucking skirt. dreamt of bending you over and having you like this. anyway you’d let me. would you?”

you nod, voice locked in your throat as he mouths at your tits. he smiles at your willingness.

“good. we have the entire weekend to ourselves. let’s see how many times i can get you to cum. hmm?” you squeeze yourself around him as you have your first orgasm. your cunt spasming as he gently pulls out. he lets you rest against him for a moment, taking a deep breath as he runs a hand down your back.

“now that’s number one. keep count for me darling, okay?”

NICO ROSBERG 𑁍

you weren’t a yacht person. when your university friend had begged you to come home with her for the holidays, you hadn’t expected the family party to be held on a yacht. this was out of your tax bracket.

it seemed like everyone in monaco was right. the casual displays of wealth and decadence made you sick at times. thinking about how the money that went to buying that birkin bag could have made a change in someone’s life. then you think about how you’re wearing a custom gown on a friend’s yacht and realise that you’re now part of the problem.

a bonus about being in monaco, was that the men were gorgeous. your friend’s older brother charles was handsome with dimples and a gorgeous accent. if he hadn’t been in a relationship with a supermodel, you would have been all over that. thankfully, there was more eye candy in the city. your friend’s father had a business partner that was in their house more often then not.

he was blond, blunt and pretty in all the ways an older man could be. when he looked at you, you felt like the world could burn at your feet. he had also been on the yacht at the same time as you. drinking champagne, mingling with family and investors as you ate canapés and watched the sky.

“is it boring you?” he asks, as you turn around. he was dressed in a loose linen shirt, light coloured trousers with his shirt open just enough to see the smooth skin underneath. “can’t believe she brought you to a work event.”

“it’s fine. there are worse places to be.” you respond. you take a sip of champagne and you both ignore the fact he watches the sip go down. he takes note of the way that you’re still looking in the direction of charles and his girlfriend, the two still wrapped around each other.

“you’ve fallen for the charles charm?” he says, smiling as he sits across from you. he puts his ankles up on the table like he owns it, which he probably does. you can tell a lot from a person’s body language, and his is telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants. “it’s a shame. another pretty girl lost in his eyes. want another drink?”

“pretty girl?”

he nods, blue eyes darkening as he looks at you over the rim of his drink.

“would you want me to show you how pretty i think you are?”

so that’s how you find yourself bent over the sink in the bathroom at a yacht party, your pretty dress bunched up at the waist as he presses his fingers inside you. scissoring them to stretch you wider.

“is this what you imagined he’d do to you?” he asks, voice curious. “that he’d go down on you in one of the bedrooms? he’d let you go down on him? that he’d split you open with his cock as we all walked around upstairs?”

you sob as he talks you through it, mascara running down your cheeks. how are you going to explain to your best friend that you fucked her dear precious uncle nico while talking about her brother. he grinds his palm against your clit as he stands up and gags your mouth with his fingers.

“can’t be too loud honey, don’t want them to hear you.”

FERNANDO ALONSO ꩜

spain was a big adventure for you and your boyfriend. the two of you made the decision to move for a few months to his grandfather’s home to help redesign the place. it was slightly run down but nothing that you couldn’t fix. the goal was to rebuild it in order to sell it off.

however, you hadn’t foreseen that this would effectively destroy what relationship you had with your boyfriend. he insisted on not signing the place under your name despite you also funnelling funds into the rebuilding of the house. after another argument, you decide to take a break. wearing a bikini, and armed with nothing besides water, sunscreen and a good book, you make your way into the backyard. sunning yourself to at least gain something from all the money you’ve put in, even if its just a tan and a relaxing afternoon.

“you’re the new neighbour?” a voice calls out, as he leans against the fence that separates your property. you knew the next door neighbour had kids, you could hear them playing occasionally in the summer sun as you painted. you didn’t know they had a hot dad. that’s new information. he smiles at you. “it’s been a while since there has been a young person. the old man who lived here has been here since before i was even born. you’re his kid?”

“no,” you laugh. “he’s my boyfriend’s grandfather. i’m just here as a cash cow apparently.”

your voice turns a little bitter but why wouldn’t you be? you have put in the same amount of time and effort as he has onto this place and now you’re not getting anything back. court is an option but it’ll drain even more of your bank account.

“why is that?” he asks, head tilted as he looks at you.

you end up spilling everything to him. about the house, the money, the contract that has your name redacted. in return, he tells you that his name is fernando and the kids you always hear playing in his back garden aren’t his but rather his nieces and nephews. it’s nice listening to him speak, with the heavy spanish lilt to his accent. he is the first person in a while who has just listened to your grievances so when he asks you inside for a drink, you don’t hesitate. grabbing your wraparound skirt, you follow him inside.

less then ten minutes later, you’re on his lap, as he presses his mouth against your tits. enveloping one nipple in his mouth while his fingers move to play with your other one. you grind down harder against him, feeling your clit brush against the hard muscle of his thigh. your bottoms are soaked with your arousal as you lean closer and bite his shoulder to stay quiet. he leans away from you for a moment, as your eyes widen worried that you’ve done something wrong.

“don’t be quiet hermosa, let him hear it,” he grins up at you then leans in for a kiss. “isn’t that most of the fun?”

author’s note: sorry y’all idk what came over me.

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Well- Tailored Affair

Alastor x female! reader

Summary: Being The Radio Demon's one and only personal tailor has it own perks.

A/N- Sorry I have been gone for quite some time!! But I'm back, I had NOOOOOO idea what to write and this thought came to me mid sleep at like 12am So anyways I hope you enjoy!

ALSO this was gonna proofread because I didn't have time and I missed yall so sorry if it sucks 💀

Being a tailor in Hell was no small feat, especially when your main client was none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. When you first took the job, you didn’t expect it to be much of a challenge working with his specific tastes. But over time, you came to know him like the back of your hand.

Today, he was scheduled for a fitting. He had dropped off a newer jacket last week but he said he had business to attend to and he'd come back next week and that was today. As always, the atmosphere of your small shop—which wasn’t far from the hotel—was calm and cozy. You were currently cross-stitching a dress for Rosie for some type of event in Cannibal Town when, suddenly, the bell above the door jingled. There he was. Alastor stepped inside with his signature grin, accompanied by the hum of radio static. The aura he carried was palpable. The moment he entered, you could feel the air shift.

"Ah, my favorite tailor!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide before resting his hands on the microphone in front of him. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Have you missed me?"

You chuckled softly, stepping away from your work and already reaching for the measuring tape. "You were here last week, Alastor. Hardly enough time to miss anyone." You smiled. His grin didn’t falter, though you didn’t notice how his crimson eyes lingered on you longer than usual. Truth be told, Alastor liked you. More than he should, and more than he realized. Part of it was the trust he placed in you to handle his precious suits, which were such a vital part of who he was. But it was also because you treated them with such grace. You knew what you were doing and were exceptional at it. Not to mention, you were one of the rare souls in Hell who wasn’t afraid of him. And lastly, you were undeniably pretty—he thought that too.

"Ah, but a week without your company is an eternity, my dear," Alastor replied. You brushed off his words with a smile. He often gave small, sweet compliments about your work and how he missed you, so this wasn’t anything new. Yet today, his words seemed to carry a different meaning.

You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to step onto the fitting platform. In front of him was a large mirror—he loved checking his reflection to ensure he always looked impeccable. "Alright, charmer, let’s see what we’re working with today. Did you tear another sleeve during one of your dramatics?" you teased, looking from the sleeve up into his eyes.

He let out a melodic laugh. "Guilty as charged! I simply cannot help myself. Life—or afterlife, rather—demands a flair for the theatrical!"

As you worked, your hands expertly adjusted the fabric of his jacket. You noticed his gaze drifting to you frequently. At first, you thought he might be scrutinizing your technique, but no—this was different. His grin softened ever so slightly whenever he thought you weren’t looking. Watching your focused expression gave him an odd fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his stomach.

"You’re very precise," he remarked, his voice quieter than usual.

"Kind of comes with the job," you replied with a smile, pinning a sleeve in place. "Can’t have the Radio Demon walking around in anything less than perfection, right?"

"Indeed. And you, my dear, are perfection. I must confess, I’ve never trusted anyone else with my suits. You have an extraordinary talent."

You paused, caught off guard by the bold confession—especially coming from him. "Thank you, Alastor. That means a lot," you said, grabbing the needle and thread.

"And," he added, tilting his head as though studying a particularly fascinating piece of art, "it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite easy on the eyes." Was he kidding? He had to be, right? Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you nearly dropped the pin you were holding. "Oh! Uh, thanks."

He noticed your reaction and chuckled, clearly amused. "Did I fluster you? My, my, how delightful!" Alastor grinned, watching you through the mirror. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "Stop moving," you muttered, focusing on adjusting the flaps on his suit. You finished stitching up the rip on his sleeve with a clean, neat stitch—it was a relatively easy fix.

The silence grew heavy until he broke it. "You’re one of the only few who doesn’t fear me, you know… It’s refreshing."

"Well, I figured if you were going to do something to me, you would’ve done it already," you replied with a smirk, stepping back to admire your work. Alastor’s grin widened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I find your company far too enjoyable to spoil."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Alright, smooth talker, you’re good to go. You can come and pick it up in 24 hours." You watched as he stepped down from the platform, adjusted his jacket, the one he came in with and turned to face you. "Splendid! I’ll be counting the seconds until I see your lovely presence again!" He started toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder with that ever-present grin. "Oh, and my dear, do save a moment for tea when I return. I’d like to enjoy more of your delightful company." You smiled, shaking your head. "You better not rip your coat on purpose in the next 24 hours!" you shouted after him.

You heard his laugh echo as he left, leaving you standing in the middle of your shop, flustered and smiling despite yourself. Maybe being Alastor’s tailor wasn’t so bad after all.

[johnbrand]

Zamzam's Blessing

With @next-pharaoh

Thomas could not believe he had made it. After toiling through what seemed to be all of Saudi Arabia, he had finally found himself in front of the Zamzam Well. According to the Islamic narratives, the well was a miraculously generated source of water which had opened up thousands of years ago for the son of Ibrahim, Ismaʿil. The legends and lore went on and on, and Thomas could see why. What stood before him was incredible.

Stepping a bit closer to the fount, Thomas could only imagine how silly he must have looked. Some scrawny white tourist, already sunburned after two days barely spent in the desert. Atheist nonetheless; he was certainly not the well’s typical affair. But he had had a passion for worldly monuments ever since he was little, including religiously-affiliated ones. When he had decided to take this journey, he had known it would be difficult, but now Thomas could finally find it worth it.

Smiling, Thomas peered a little farther forward, not noticing his foot catch on the edge of the gate protecting the holy well. With a small yelp, he felt himself lose his footing and tumble directly into the hole. Thomas immediately descended into the hole, each second flying by before splashing into the water. 

Thomas took a quick gulp of air as his panic began to rise. Questions began flying around as if they were bouncing off the well’s walls. How could he have been so careless? Was he going to be able to survive this? Did someone see him fall? Would he be deported? And last but not least: why was he not drowning?

With an awkward blink, Thomas considered that last question again. Timidly, he just barely opened his mouth to relieve some pressure. He was not prepared for his breath to be restored. Hesitantly accepting this realization, Thomas tested a bit more, until eventually he realized he could breathe while underneath the well’s water. It was strange, unsettling, and frankly exhilarating to the non-believer. It was as if he was trapped in a womb.

And like a womb, the water was getting warmer. The panic began to resettle as Thomas realized just how quickly the pool was heating up. The hot water was cooking him, streaming through every hole and crevice it could into his body. Thanks to the smallest amount of light from above, Thomas was able to witness his miraculous transformation.

It started first with Thomas’s skin. The low boil of the water burned him, but instead of leaving reddish scars, it darkened his exterior. Thomas’s skin crisped into a warmer brown, his hair darkened to a rich black, and his facial features subtly shifted to reflect a new masculine, Middle Eastern heritage. As his nose grew wider and eyes inhabited a deep, rich brown, Thomas could not help but emit heartfelt moan underneath the water’s surface.

The masculinization came next, for the well gifted Thomas with the prime body to carry out its will. Broadened shoulders now led to massive arms meant to carry the Qur'an's wisdom. A sturdy chest then traveled down to impenetrable legs to carry the new man across the world to aid in reversion. Larger feet to stomp out the dissension, a virile pouch to spread the Arabian seed. Thomas’s body was built to be an unstoppable Islamic machine.

And finally, his mind would become one with his new mission. In ecstasy, Thomas cried out as his past was rewritten for a new destiny. His old beliefs and ideals dissolved, replaced by a new understanding and acceptance. The atheist wonder that had once fueled his rhetoric was rewritten by Islamic empathy and peace. The passion Thomas once derived from multiculturalism was extinguished, replaced with an appreciation for full reversion.

As his transformation settled in, the well’s water level began to rise. Thomas’s metaphorical womb was ready to give birth to its newest disciple. The warm embrace rushed around him as he was pushed up and up, his magnificent body adapting to the masterful current. As his final change was instituted, the water exalted its creation to the top, leaving the Arab man dry beside the well.

“Ah, I thought I heard the well’s waters again,” a gravelly voice chuckled. “It had been a while since anyone was blessed.”

From the other side of the well stood an old janitor. The rest of the exhibit was empty, suggesting that the historic site had been closed for a while now. The janitor came around the fount and helped the sturdy Arab man up, leading him to a small room off to the side of the exhibit.

“What’s your name, brother?” the janitor asked.

“Tariq,” the Islamic disciple answered with the utmost clarity. “What just happened?"

“The well blessed you” the janitor replied, now searching through a drawer. "I thought it was fairly obvious."

Looking upon himself, Tariq was surprised to have not noticed earlier that he was bare besides a pair of underwear. By its branding, he knew the janitor's words were true.

“You can have these.” The janitor tossed a pearly white thobe to Tariq. “Now go out, you know your mission.”

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 1/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Soldier boy being too rough

Word Count: 1394

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You were currently lying on your stomach on the sofa, completely engrossed in your phone.

It's been a year already.

12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another.

Of course, the job in the field, as you always affectionately called it, was extremely dangerous, but damn interesting and exciting. Until today, you didn't know why Butcher wanted you on his team so badly, but after a few unsuccessful attempts to get him to talk, you finally gave up. You weren't particularly talented when it came to fighting or stuff like that. You also had no idea about technology. Of course, you knew the quickest way to track down and locate Supes, but the other 11 girls on your team knew that too. So, you didn't know why you were chosen, but now you didn't care. Finally something exciting happened in your life and you were more than grateful for that.

Your love life on the other hand, was still a complete disaster. You're 20 years old and still single as fuck. It wasn't that you didn't have chances, certainly not, it was more that you wanted a man who could flash you. You wanted magic. A crackling and burning when he looks at you. But so far, all the men you've met have been the exact opposite. And if your mother taught you anything, it's to never settle for less.

So, here you were. In shorts and a crop top in the living room of your shared apartment.

Since the Team around Butcher has expanded with you, the Team got a new apartment. Not particularly luxurious, but not completely crappy either.

However, since the heating in your room is currently broken, you had to make do with the couch in the living room. While everyone else was already asleep, you scrolled through Instagram, checking out what your old coworkers were up to and what lies the media was currently spreading.

"Why aren't you sleeping, doll face?".

It was Soldier Boy's rough voice that startled you. When you turned your head to the side, you could see his eyes glued to your bare legs. But typical, he didn't care that you caught him staring. He plopped down on the sofa next to your feet and took a sip from his whiskey bottle without averting his gaze. There was nothing you could do as the blush rose to your face. You cleared your throat before sitting up.

“I don’t know”, you mumbled before looking at him for a second. “Somehow I’m not tired”, you added, looking away again. It was impossible to hold his gaze for much more. Despite the fact that you were the only person Soldier Boy was nice to, nice by his standards, you found him extremely intimidating. Even now, as he sat there, almost like a normal person in his gray sweatpants and black hoodie, he radiated this strong superiority.

When it became clear that there was no way Soldier Boy could be locked up again and Butcher could use all the help he could get against Homelander, he convinced Soldier Boy to rejoin his team.

Nobody knew how the hell he did it, but he did.

Butcher had recruited you and Soldier Boy almost at the same time. You were both the ‚new guys’ so to speak. Maybe that's why you got along somewhat.

“Well, I know fucking ton of ways to make you tired, Sweetheart”, he winked at you, making you roll your eyes. “Are you going to stop trying at some point?”, you mumbled, reaching for your Ben & Jerry’s on the table. “As soon as I can finally spread those pretty legs of yours”, he grinned cheekily.

You didn't think much of it. Ben was Ben and fucked everything that came his way. You knew that by now. Well, everyone on the team knew that. It wasn't even two weeks before Butcher banned him from bringing women home. The sounds those girls did, sounded like something out of a porno and kept everyone awake for two weeks.

“You’re disgusting,” you remarked quietly before putting the first spoonful in your mouth.

“Whatever”, he took another sip.

"Why are you still awake?", you asked. "I've slept enough", he replied almost bitterly. “Besides…if Everyone is sleeping, I hear your every little movement. Every tap on your phone. Every fucking breath you take… Try sleeping like that”, he murmured.

“Sorry”, you mumbled.

“Yeah, whatever doll face”.

You spent the next 60 minutes staying quiet and watching TV. In between, Ben couldn't help but mutter derogatory comments about women from commercials or the actual Movie you watched and its plot. At some point your nerves were on edge and you couldn't help but let out an annoyed groan.

“Do you have a fucking problem over there?”, Ben mumbled, looking over at you.

"You're repeating yourself! ‘Everything used to be better’ – that’s annoying”, you imitated him.

Without meaning to, you started a discussion. Neither of you was angry or aggressive, but both of you wanted to be right and keep the other quiet. However, the discussion quickly became heated. After a few minutes, the mood changed completely. Ben absolutely wasn't having neither your attitude nor your - in his eyes - disrespectful behavior towards him. Soldier Boy. Americas fucking first hero.

You could see Ben tense up. He got up from the couch and stood in front of you, building himself up. He clearly was about to snap.

“Know what the fucking best part was? Nobody was a fucking cocktease like you! No woman would dared to dance around with such tight little panties in front of me and just not let me fuck ‘em!”.

You just sat there and looked up at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

"Ben, I...". With your eyes still on him, you searched for the right words, but you hadn't found any. All these months you thought Ben was just kidding. You never took his lewd comments, compliments or his staring seriously, quite the opposite. By now you thought it was just one of his traits. He held your gaze with his arms crossed. He raised an eyebrow expectantly. His fingertips tapped his upper arm. Knowing that he wouldn't rest until you gave him an answer that was acceptable to him, you tried your best.

“I didn't think you'd mind. I… I´m not your type at all? I thought you`re into older women”. You now looked at him a little confused.

“Oh, don’t act fucking dumb now! I know women like you. Act all innocent at first, make men horny and then don't let anyone touch you! This is actually a lot worse than a slut admitting she's a slut!”, he spat.

Unfortunately, your hand was faster than your brain as you lashed out, hitting him on the cheek.

Your breath hitched as you saw Ben raise both eyebrows in surprise before his jaw twitched in anger.

"Shit! Ben… I…”.

You couldn't stutter any longer because Ben was already pushing you firmly against the wall by your upper arms.

Thousand thoughts ran through his head and they all revolved around you.

Ever since he first saw you, he was torn. Soldier Boy didn't know if he wanted to kill you, fuck you, torture or fucking marry you. He couldn't understand his own feelings. He didn't know what the fuck he felt. Even now his fantasies fluctuated like hell.

You were only human. With the blink of an eye he could squash you like a puny fly. But then he would never be able to look into those beautiful (y/e/c) eyes again. He would never be able to hear your voice again. He had dreamed so often of you lying beneath him, completely exhausted, shaking and moaning. Screaming his name in sheer desperate.

Just like that his intrusive thoughts won. Without any warning, he smashed his lips into yours, followed by his body.

———————————

A/N: I was wondering if anyone would like me to make this into a multi-part story. Pls let me know 🥰

Part 2

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Keeping it quiet

Paring: Innocent!reader × dads!friend!Nat

Summery: You looked lonely Natasha could fix that

Warnings: SMUT, (legal) age gap, amab!nat, oral, fingering, p in v, pet names, implied aftercare, secret relationship, breeding kink, unprotected sex, no use of Y/N

Word count: 1.2k

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

AN: sorry for the long wait but here I am

Masterlist

Today was supposed to be a normal BBQ like your family had had so often in this warm summer months but ever since your father invited his collegue over to join something changed. Ever since you met Natasha Romanoff about 3 months back you couldn't stop thinking about her. She might have been old enough to be your mother and a friend of your father but you couldn't denie the fact that you were attracted to her like flies to the light. She was a true charmer excatly knowing what to say and to do. You never felt uncomfortable around her even though she blatanly flited with you. Her touch somehow always lingering on your skin when the two of you were alone. It was only a matter of time until you ended in Natashas bed legs widely spread as she savoured your taste. So the time flew sneaking around your parents watch as you kept your illicent affair hidden falling head over heals for the older woman. Today was one of those days where Nat came over to your parents place and just couldn't keep her hands of you.

Like always Natashas steps were light on the cold tiles of the french villa your family owned. Sometimes you thought she was an actual spy. You didn't hear her standing in the kitchen in skimpy clothing preparing something for dinner as you mindlessly hummed along whatever Taylor Swift song was currently on the radio. "What are you doing bunny" She sneaked up behind you pressing her front into your back her crotch againt the swell of your ass. "Just doin' a salad you know" She humped checking out the area to see if your parents were around before doing anything further. Her hands came up to your hips pulling your behind harder against her crotch. "Natty please" you whined as she smirked pressing her nose against your neck smelling the expensive perfume she had gotten you. "We can't not here" your breathing was heavy uneven "What if my parents see?"

"They're in the garden trust me bunny" She whispered her strong hands trialling up your sides to your chest. Even though your body was betraying you leaning into her touch seemingly begging for more you couldn't give in just yet. You wanted to show her how you infact could be stronger than your most animalistic thoughts. "Natasha not now" she groaned into her hear making you feel the wettnes betwen your owm legs. "Fuck bunny I can't wait to feel your tight little pussy pulsing around me begging me to let you cum. And then after you had your sweet sweet release I'm gonna breed you're dripping with my cum" she whispered into your ear before pushing herself from the counter leaving into the garden. Of course she wouldn't actually get you pregnant you where on the pill and you weren't sure if she was even fertile. It was more of her kink she had explained to you.

The rest of the night you two kept your play up. Acting asif you couldn't care less what the other was doing in front of your parents. Still you couldn't help but admire her beautiful features as she had some boring converstaion with your father about politics or what ever. What really interested you would be the time spend between the sheets with her as she would show you all her passions and desires. After what seemed like hours you finally snuck your way into the guest room. She was spread wide on the comfortable mattress only wearing a wifebeater and her chequered boxers. "There's my bunny eh" she turned her head towards you as you made your way over to the bed swinging your hips . You sat down deside you before turning to kiss you roughly slipping her tongue into your mouth as you shifted to strangle her waist feeling her growing erection as you rolled your hips against her crotch.

"Fuck Bunny" she breathed out as she gripped onto your hips stilling you in place. "let me get you ready first" she whispered flipping you to lay under her as she kissed your neck down reamoving your cami top in the process. She took on nipple in her mouth slightly sucking on it before her big hand started playing with your other nipple rubbing over it. You let out quiet whippers as she switched sides. After what she deemed to be enough attention to your chest she kissed her way down to your panties nibbling on the skin of your hips. She made sure to leave hickeys in her way. You tried your best go keep it quiet but when Nat did her thing it was hard. Natasha kissed your clit through the soaked through panties pulling them down only to revel your sticky heat.

She made a bold lick from the end of your pussy right up your puffy clit swirling her trained tongue around the erected nub. Her scarlet lips attached to your clit sucking on it making you cry out as you tried to close your legs around her head but she kept them spread. She slowly inserted two of her long fingers into your clenching hole as you quietly cried out for mor and more. Natasha moved her fingers roughly and fast not giving you time to adjust. "Fuck your so tight" she groaned pumping her fingers even faster. “Natty ‘m close so close“ You felt your release close enough to grab but then Nat pulled her dripping fingers from your heat leaving you high and dry. “W-What?” You mumbled out opening your eyes again only to see Natasha smirking down at you “I want some fun too honey“ she smirked flipping you to your knees pushing your hips up as you arched your back showing off both your tight holes to her.

You heard her removing her boxers she already was rock hard for you her reddened tip leaking with pre cum as she expertly spits on her shaft spreading the slick over it. She moved closer pushing her tip to you clit enjoying the sight of you bucking your hips desperately trying to find your pleasure. “Ngh Tasha please” you begged making her listen slowly pushing in making you gasp at the feeling of being stretched out like that. She gave you time to quickly adjust before picking up pace fucking you hard and rough as she had a death grip on your hips. You couldn’t care less about the bruises as you pushed your face into the pillow muffling your sounds. With Natasha whimpers and the sound of skin slapping your moans filled the hot summer night air hoping your parents couldn’t hear you.

You kept clenching down on Nat she grabbed onto your shoulders. “Fuck ‘m gonna breed that little pussy ngh… I’m gonna make you so full of my cum“ you whined out before the coil in your stomach snapped and you came hard Natasha following soon releasing her white seed deep inside your whomp. She proceeded to help you through your orgasm even cleaning you up before cuddling you to sleep her arms tightly around your smaller body.

:)

[kedreeva]

Okay, I haven't wanted to talk much about the peafowl lately, been just kinda dealing with Stan's passing, but! I have news I don't want to keep quiet, so here we go with a little announcement.

I've been helping a friend of mine with a bunch of peafowl genetics work lately, as he's trying to prove out a really neat phenotype of speckled and white peafowl that showed up in his breeding stock, and he just spent tens of thousands of dollars importing two new morphs from Europe: European violet (aka, my dream morph) and Ultramarine (pretty and only otherwise being produced by TWO breeders in the WORLD). When Bill heard about Stan, he asked if I was going to go to a large farm auction that's a few hours from my house. I don't, normally, since it's a few hours from my house and the auctions usually make me kinda sad when it comes to peafowl (they stress out SO MUCH) even though it's cool to see how much they're going for at a wider audience auction.

Then he told me he would be going, and that if I wanted to come down the day before the auction, he'd bring me another male, to replace Stan. I had already made plans to hang onto Bismuth, at least for a few years, and to pick up babies from Indie x Arcana/Eclipse this november, including a male, so I didn't really need another male, and don't have the cash for one anyway. He said no, he meant one of the split EUV males from last year's first-USA breeding. For free. As a thank you for helping him.

To put this into perspective, importing the birds is a ~$10k affair, per bird. I had fully resigned myself to never even SEEING one of these birds in person, much less ever owning one. Even if someone else got them imported, they would remain thousands of dollars for the first few years, and quickly become mixed with other stuff, potentially even be lost by people breeding to purple. He went in on a group import with another breeder and they have both just started selling the full-color birds for over $2k apiece (alongside Ultramarine, which before their import was bred by TWO people in the WORLD, and babies from that are going for almost $7k each, but EUV is more widely spread). Splits (like the one I will be getting) are being let go for $750. This is also the color I have desperately wanted since I first saw them 8-10 years ago (though I believe they've been around slightly longer), but that I had resigned myself to never actually having.

To put it mildly, I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see Bill and this bird. It's going to be super embarrassing. And then I'm going to have to build more pens. And then I'm going to have to get as plain-blue, pure-indian blue hens as I can find, and become one of the most serious curators of plain pure EUV in the US, because I know the other two who have them currently will be outcrossing to other patterns/colors immediately and the people buying them will likely be doing the same, and everyone will be clamoring to make them into high Spaldings ASAP, or won't know not to cross them to purples and wreck the color.

Here's the sire cock, the one imported:

You will notice that this bird is purple in full sun, from the sunny side. That's the main difference between European violet and US purple- a US purple looks blue until you get the right angle on the sun vs the bird vs the camera, and you have to get the bird between you and the sun, so the purple is often in the shadow side- visible to the eye but not the camera. EUV is just purple. Even from the sunny side!!

And the Ultramarine, in case you were wondering about their color:

(pics reposted w/ permission from Bill)

The breeder is Spring Creek Peafowl, and in case anyone is secretly a peafowl breeder or knows other peafowl breeders with too much money that want in on a new color morph, he DOES have UM pairs and EUV hens (and more split males) for sale currently, for less than the only other person in the US that has them. They're still pricey, but cheaper. I WISH I had the extra to have my friend add on an EUV hen, but alas, I will have to wait to make my own in a few years. Even just the opportunity to do so is something I never expected to have!

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 7: revenge dress, part 6: reckless, part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2:wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 7! bc why did this take me 2 days to make. da faq. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by harrystyles, austinbutler, and 26,955,959 others

yourinstagram and by the way, i’m going out tonight.

View all 357,728 comments

sabrinacapenter R U KIDDING ME???

badgalriri go bad bitch go bad bitch go

1dstyles.harry harry i see u lurking 👀

user1 she don’t know she need me yet

arianagrande MOTHER IS MOTHERING

barbie this barbie is THAT GIRL

leclerc_pascale Beautiful Girl!❤️

yourinstagram leclerc_pascale thank you ❤️

alexademie 😍😍

user2 they won’t love you like i would

omarapollo come home the kids miss u

y/nsdeadreputaion i know charles is crying in the corner rn

(landonorris liked this comment !)

danielricciardo May God bless the dinosaur that died to make the fossil fuel that was treated to become petrol in the car that took your mom to hospital to give birth to you

yourinstagram danielriccoardo i hate you 😭💀

danielricciardo yourinstagram Don’t lie, You know you love me

fernandoalonso_offical danielricciardo No. Stop it.

written by Ally

July 15,2023 AT 1:30PM

Y/n L/n is rarely seen walking the streets in public anymore, but that is changing following her recent breakup  from longtime love Charles Leclerc.

The 12-time Grammy winner was spotted out and about in Rome just one day after her release of her new single, Reckless, which reflects on her past relationship with the formula 1 driver.

L/n was joined by celebs friends Zendaya, Tom Holland, Sabrina Carpenter, Bella Hadid, and Alexa Demie for a night out at Shari Vari Play House in Vía de' Nari, Italy. 

The news of her breakup sent shockwaves on social media. Tweets and memes were made, with fans expressing their disbelief and grief

Rumors had already spread that Leclerc was seeing someone else the last few months of thosr relationship. L/n just made those rumors  official last night as she delivered a tribute to  Leclerc and his new girlfriend Australian Youtuber Lola Ransdell, sending the media to a frenzy. 

The “Karma” hitmaker opted for a dress from Mônot’s SS22 collection, a black dress with cutouts across the chest and stomach, leaving little fabric between L/n’s collarbone and lower waist.

People on twitter are already calling this “Y/n L/n’s Revenge Dress Era” . 

"Not @Y/nL/n wearing Y/n’s Version of 'the revenge dress'," one fan posted.

The ultimate revenge dress is, of course, the off-the-shoulder black Christina Stambolian dress that Princess Diana wore while her former husband then-Prince Charles was admitting to an affair with current Queen Consort Camilla.

Diana, Princess of Wales attends the Vanity Fair party at the Serpentine Gallery on November 20, 1994 Anwar Hussein

L/n kicked off her sold-out Eras Tour on March 17, and eagle-eyed fans noticed that Leclerc had been absent from her shows.

In case you're unfamiliar with the lore of YourShipName (portmanteau and couple name of L/n and Leclerc), you probably don't understand the distress caused by the news. For most, Leclerc is not even a household name, but for YourFandomsName, he's the titular Lover.

via @yourinstagram in a now deleted instagram post

The Midnights singer and  f1 driver started dating in 2016. Fans speculate they met at the 2016 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix based on the lyrics of Reputation cut "Dress": "Flashback to when you met me / Your buzzcut and my hair bleached." Because, you guessed it, Leclerc sported a buzzcut and L/n’s hair was bleached.

At a secret session for Reputation, Leclerc reportedly told fans that the single "Gorgeous" was about her "angel boyfriend of one year." Other tracks off of Reputation like “Delicate," "Call It What You Want," and "King Of My Heart" are also thought to be about Leclerc.

Her next album, Lover, is also understood to be about Leclerc with songs like "Paper Rings," "Cornelia Street," "Daylight," and the titular "Lover."

During quarantine the couple started collaborating creatively. Leclerc surpassed his muse status and co-wrote Folklore tracks "Exile" and "Betty,"

 Evermore songs "Champagne Problems" and "Coney Island, and most recently, "Sweet Nothing" off Midnights. Other tracks on her most recent three albums canonically about Leclerc include: "Invisible String" and "Peace."

While they opted to remain very private about their romance, the couple was hit with a slew of engagement rumors throughout the course of their ill-fated romance.

"I'm aware people want to know about that side of things," Leclerc told GQ in 2018. "I think we have been successfully very private and that has now sunk in for people."

L/n briefly touched on the privacy aspect of their relationship in her 2020 documentary, "Miss Americana."

"We decided together we wanted our relationship to be private," she said. "Even though [my public image in 2016] was really horrible, I was happy."

"But I wasn't happy in the way I was trained to be happy. It was happiness without anyone else's input. We were just... happy," the singer added.

The "Lavender Haze" songstress' exes famously include Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert Pattinson, Fabian Frankel, Ben Barnes, Harry Styles, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson. 

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• From Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc to Sofia Vergara and Joe Manganiello, Here are all the Celebirty breakups of 2023…So far

• Leonardo DiCaprio, Gigi Hadid Are 'Definitely Dating' (Exclusive Source)

• Carlos Sainz Shares his thoughts on YourShipName’s Breakup

TWITTER, july 15

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by kendalljenner, haileybieber, and 2,674,123 others

lolaaransdell_ couldn’t be bothered

View all 32,177 comments

user5 someone pls take away her phone i’m so serious

y/nsleclerc god has lots of favorites🥰💞🧚🏽you’re not one of them🥺💘💘

haileybieber the hottest ❤️❤️

badgerdannyricc you hit different 😍when you’re not on my screen 🧚‍♀️💞✨

cillianmurphyfineaf u killed this 💞🦋!🧚🏽now do the same for urself🙈🥰⚡️

charles16_leclerc this is just embarrassing stop

auzziericciardo i don’t like you but ur blush and highlight looks really good

norissxricciardo my daughter said she loved your videos! 😩💗✨ so i put her up for adoption 😽☁️🌺

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 16

yourinstagram 4h

viewed by michaelbjordan, lilyrose_depp, and 2,042,828 others

INSTAGRAM, july 16

liked by landonorris, jacobelordi, and 8,667,214 others

yourinstagram it feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters & make fun of our exes.

View all 102,421 comments

cinnamongirldelrey oh this is iconic.

queensel the reunion we needed

argentinastyles stop i love selena and y/n together

parisy/n THE CAPTION LMFAOAKSKHDH

charlottesiine Angel sisters for life!!!

yourinstagram charlottesiine my queen i love you!

jarofheartsy/n wait i’m confused who’s the girl on the last pic?

ciney/n jarofheartsy/n charlotte sine, charles’s ex gf 💀

TWITTER, july 16

ally’s radio 📻: DON’T U LOVE WHEN WOMEN. guys im stuck on who to choose for y/n’s next boo. like. so stuck. THIS CAN GO LIKE FOUR WAYS. WE HAVE FOUR OPTIONS AND I KINDA WANNA LET U GUYS PICK BUT ALSO NEED TO KEEP YALL IN SUSPENSE SO LIKE😭 SHARE WITH ME UR THOUGHTS PLS. also, i think i might start a danny ric fanfic next bc that’s bbg.

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx @lilsiz @ohthemisssery @leclerclvr @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @shessthunderstoms @cool-ultra-nerd @ncentic @playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj @chasing-liberosis @laneyspaulding19

[gojoest]

DEDICATING A GOAL TO YOU — ITOSHI SAE

.°⊹ tags / warnings : sfw, pro football player sae, established relationship, paparazzi, 0.5k+, not proofread as always

a/n : was about to make this a multi chara hcs thingie but eventually decided to post them separately not bc im lazy or anything >.< more will come soon ! ( i hope — i have them all ready in my head, i promise ! )

dating sae — one of the best football players all around the globe with looks that dangerously wounded the hearts of many, was taxing. the world had its eyes on him both inside and outside the field. and sae was a private man, especially outside the field — and especially when it was about you. he rarely spoke about his personal life when confronted during interviews. the only exception (more of an accident, really) being that one time he was asked by an interviewer about his ideal girl and he just blurted out ‘i’m already dating her’.

no more was revealed about your relationship despite the bazillion questions that instantly followed his confession. of course, the news broke the hearts of millions of fans across the world. and fans, along with the already nosy paparazzi, can do a better job than the FBI. within just a week your identity was revealed. the world had gotten its hands on the mysterious girl dating the genius footballer itoshi sae.

footages of you together were leaked into social media and the magazines. you were the hottest topic and prying eyes were following your every step. shortly after rumors started spreading. since little was known about the essence of your relationship, fake news began to fill the magazine pages and the internet — that sae was spotted leaving a bar with another girl, leaving the house of another, or the car of another, or that you got fed up with his affairs and left the country but then came back to renew your passport and got back together. according to the fake news you’d broken up a total of 13 times and the best yet — sae was already married to a woman, older than him, in spain and had twins.

all of this meddling was a constant, even after 2 years into your relationship. you somehow learned to laugh it off or not even bring it up. you had your shit together. but still, it put a certain amount of pressure on you both. especially during moments so precious you wanted to keep them to yourself only, away from prying eyes. and with sae’s current popularity status it was nearly unachievable. even abroad you could never be truly just the two of you, alone. which was why sae, unfortunately, was forced to propose to you at home. over a can of coke and pizza.

but this time the news was delivered by itoshi sae himself — during a nail-biting finale, a last minute goal leading the team to victory and scored by none other than the genius sae who didn’t waste a second and kissed the engagement ring on his finger, eyes closed, features on his face softer than ever, just like all the times his lips would crash into yours. as if that tiny object wrapped around his finger held part of you inside. it felt so good to carry you so close, even during a match, he smiled through the kiss. just like every single time he did with you. yea. it felt so good. this, my love, is for you — you could almost feel his unspoken words vibrate on your lips.

soon after these intimate seconds where, despite the stadium being crowded — it was just you and him, sae sent another message, a warning if you will, with a single look as cold as absolute zero, at the camera zooming in on him : no more prying on what’s mine.

[illyrianbitch]

Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths

Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel

Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.

Warnings: ANGST, Helion being compassionate and its sexy, Inner Circle slander (sorry feyre baby), Y/N is kind of a bitch (but its warranted and a slay), family trauma.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was Helion, the High Lord of Day, who had seen the flicker of hope in your eyes. A man of discerning wisdom, he recognized your yearnings of a better world. He knew you, he knew your heart, and he trusted your vision— with the promise of your support shall he need it. You knew that your support, in the grand scheme of things, meant nothing to Helion. He had always held a heart of gold, of understanding, and he would have helped you without anything in return. But you had insisted, declared that you needed to give him something to thank him. Your support, he had agreed on. It was all you had left, anyway. 

Now, you stood before him, pleading. Your chest was tight and a calm panic filled your veins. You needed to act. You needed to keep things in place.

"Helion, please," your voice, normally composed, now carried a tremor, a plea that hung in the air, reeking of desperation. Low light poured through stained glass windows as the sun slowly set, painting a kaleidoscope of muted colors on the marble floors.

His eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a regretful sympathy. 

"Y/N, I wish I could," He replied, his voice caressing the air,  "But with the current state of affairs and your father’s growing paranoia, it's too risky. I can't jeopardize my people. My help is needed elsewhere."

Approaching you, he extended a large hand, gently cupping your chin, his touch reassuring and pained. "Give me some time, sweetheart."

Desperation deepened in your eyes, and the intensity of your plea swelled. Aching with fear and worry, your gaze remained locked on his. "I don’t have time. Hewn City corrupts swiftly. You know this.”

Helion sighed, a sound filled with a blend of both compassion and helplessness. "Perhaps you should reach out to Rhysand. His influence might help, now more than ever."

Yor felt a bitterness surface, like bile rising through your throat. A soft scoff left your mouth as you roughly pulled Helion’s hand away from your chin, withdrawing from his touch in offense. "Rhys had a chance to help. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less. I won’t go crawling to him."

Helion's gaze softened, a tender response to your rough tone. He let out a sigh and pulled you close to him once more. His touch sent a wave of comfort through you, something that happened often when you visited him to discuss these things. Helion was a man who loved physical connection— you didn’t mind it. It made you feel seen, understood. Now, you craved that feeling more than ever.

 "I don’t understand this contempt you hold. Surely they will want to help you. They miss you."

You rolled your eyes at this. Of course Helion would think so. As much as you trusted him and his admiration for you, he always did love your family. Your sister and your cousin would always be in your life, tied to you in one way or another. Frustration tinged your voice. 

"It's too late. Going to Rhysand now would draw unwanted attention or, worse, he’d halt my efforts because of some perceived danger."

There was a moment of silence, and your eyes bounced around the room, searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t Helion's burning gaze. Once more, he moved a hand to gently cradle your face.

"You cannot foresee every outcome. You're not a mind reader, Y/N."

A bitter laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "I might as well be when it comes to family."

 "You've accomplished so much. Allow yourself a reprieve. You can't bear the weight of the innocents lives in Hewn City alone."

You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes as you admitted, "I can't afford to stop. If I do, they'll think I've given up." 

"No," Helion asserted, his voice unwavering. "Your dedication is commendable, but you need to care for yourself. Let me help you."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, his brows furrowed slightly and a sad smile on his face. He moved his hand once more, gently tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. Then, he ran a finger along it, a soft caress carried by a weight of understanding. You shuddered at the lightness of his touch. 

 "Stay, Y/N,” He suggested, his voice smooth and low, “Let me be a distraction. You take care of others; let someone take care of you."

You leaned slightly into his caress, feeling the warmth radiating from his hand. A fleeting sense of comfort teased at the edges of your weary soul. Yet, reality swiftly reasserted its grasp, and you gently withdrew, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"I appreciate the offer," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. Your hand delicately intercepted his, guiding it away from your cheek. "But I can't afford the luxury of distraction right now."

He acknowledged your decision with a small nod. 

“I wish I could do more for you."

A tender smile found its way to your lips and you held his gaze for a fleeting moment of gratitude.

“I know.” You replied before you winnowed away, leaving the luminous embrace of the Day Court behind.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were on edge. You had been for the last few weeks. Now, after failing to convince Helion, you could feel it catching up to you, a dark hole forming in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being swallowed alive, eaten by your own anxieties and fear. But you didn’t have time for this. You couldn’t risk falling apart, becoming vulnerable. No, not at a time like this.

You had mastered the art of drowning your thoughts, of discarding the weight that threatened to pull you under. Tonight would be no different. The impending storm would be weathered, as it always had been. You would begin to drink your worries away, give them time to manifest, and then shove them away into the crawlspace of your mind, free to collect dust and rot away.

You moved toward a small table where a simple platter of dark amber liquid awaited. Your fingers tightened around a small crystal glass as you poured. As the first sip touched your lips, you felt the familiar burn, a welcomed distraction. The amber liquid offered solace, if only for a fleeting moment.

And then, you stilled. The creak of the floorboards behind you announced their presence, and you felt it—a pricking at the base of your neck, the subtle disturbance of the air as someone entered, no, appeared. Your body tensed instinctively, shoulders rigid, as you ceased your movements. You took a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply-- a futile attempt to ground yourself.

You downed the drink, the warmth spreading through your veins, and set your glass down, a definitive thud echoing in the silence as it met the table. You turned around slowly, the ever-present undercurrent of anxiety beneath your skin momentarily masked by a face of composure. The simple décor of your home surrounded you—the tattered tapestries, broken furniture—all a testament to a life you had built in the aftermath of your return. One that lacked the color that you once held.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Your voice, laced with both mockery and a hint of something darker, hung in the air.

In front of you, Rhysand stood tall and proud, a figure of authority. His eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a look determination. His gaze held yours strongly, and for a swift moment, you saw them soften. But the tenderness quickly dissipated, his eyes narrowing with a slight tilt of his head. You ran your eyes along his face, then down his form, taking in the detailed and intricate patterns of his clothing— an embodiment of Night Court royalty. Then, you looked at him again, your jaw clenching. It had been a while since you looked into his eyes, a violet color deeply embedded into your mind. For a moment, his presence consumed your thoughts, distracting you from the other man that you felt in your home.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark figure stepping out from the corners of your room. A darkness licked at your skin.

"Hello, Azriel," you acknowledged him, your eyes remaining fixed on Rhysand.

Azriel's presence was a dark whisper. The edges of your room seemed to blur with shadows as he stood there, a silent observer.

"I’ve come to request your help," Rhysand's voice cut through the stillness, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

Your response was swift, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that's rich."

The corners of the room seemed to darken further as Rhysand's frustration manifested in the clenching of his jaw. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the lines on his face, revealing the strain of a desperate plea.

"Please hear me out."

You shook your head. They shouldn’t be here. This was risky, dangerous. You needed them to leave. They needed to disappear, to let you go and never find you again. That was the only way you would be able to survive.

But every fiber in your being was screaming to do the opposite, to embrace your cousin and explain to him, tell him everything. You wanted to get on your knees and beg for the kindness he always showed you, to ask him about your sister. For him to tell you about his life, his love, his child. But you couldn’t. And from inside you, your heart tugged you to Azriel, his stoic form. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to catch his gaze. It was all so wrong. This disconnect, this anger you felt for them, for your situation, for yourself… it was eating you up. But this wasn't the time. So you pulled your thoughts together and focused on the one thing that had never let you down: your fire.

You reminded yourself of the resentment you held, deep down. Reminded yourself of how they had failed you, separated themselves from you, your vision, and the suffering of the good people here, in Hewn City— your city. Rhysand's city.

Ignoring his original words, you looked at Rhysand with the hint of a wicked grin on your face.

"Where’s your child bride? I heard she’s reading at the same level as your babe. You must be overjoyed."

Rhysand's expression tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. The mention of his mate touched a clear nerve, and for a brief moment, you reveled in the discomfort you had caused. It was a twisted satisfaction, a way to regain some sliver of control in this unexpected encounter.

His temper flared, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability replaced by a presence of anger that you knew all too well. He bit down on his frustration, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. But you pressed on.

“I’m only kidding, take a joke, Rhysand. 500 years and you still have the emotional regulation of a teenager. Nice to see some things don’t change."

Rhysand's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and confusion, observing you and your wall of icy nonchalance. His name sounded foreign on your lips, spoken with such malice and distaste. Even the last time he had seen you, during a bloody war against Hybern, you had not been so venomous. This was a fact you both thought of as you stood here, now, in front of one another again. You moved gracefully through the room, ignoring their presence, and opened a small box that sat on your table. The delicate aroma of sugar wafted through the air. You took a seat.

Azriel and Rhysand exchanged glances. Your fingers idly played with the box, an ornate creation that held delicate, candied treats. With an almost casual indifference, you brought one of the sweet confections to your mouth, savoring the taste as if the weight of their presence meant nothing to you. You could feel the tension building in the atmosphere, heightened by their growing sense of agitation and frustration. It radiated off of them like heat. You welcomed it with open arms, like a freezing child in the cold.

"These are the loveliest desserts,” You explained, bringing the candy close to your face with an examining eye, “Hard to come across here. But I know a guy.”

“Want one?" you offered, dropping your candy back into the box and extending it toward Azriel, whose stoic expression remained unchanged.

"What? Doggy can’t take a treat?" You taunted with a measured smile. You didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, or the way his shadows began to snake up his arms, angry and riled up.

A tense silence lingered as Azriel remained perfectly unmoving, his eyes holding a depth of attentiveness that made you uncomfortable. But the discomfort within you sought distraction, and you continued with your mockery. You waved your hands in the air as a dismissal.

"Bah, you guys are no fun."

The room felt charged as you baited them, your attempts to deflect the gravity of their visit becoming slowly evident in every casual gesture.

Rhysand's frustration reached a boiling point, and he took a step forward, shifting the conversation.

"We didn't come here for sweets and jests. We came for you."

You chuckled, a sound that held a bitter edge. "Me? You must be desperate, Rhysand."

A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, swiftly replaced by a steely resolve. "There are rumors of rebellion here,” He took a pause, glancing around the room as if he was contemplating continuing. He spoke again, “But, I'm dealing with a larger threat that has me on the defense. I cannot afford an uprising."

Your laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Is the idea of civil unrest among your people an inconvenience? My, what an issue, must be terrible."

Rhysand's patience waned, his features hardening. "Stop this, Y/N. We need your help to prevent a disaster."

You leaned back against your furniture, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him with a chilling indifference. "I've heard nothing about any unrest. You've wasted a trip."

Rhysand's gaze bore into yours, an unspoken challenge. "Azriel has been in Hewn City, gathering information. He's heard the rumors. I know you're lying."

In that moment, a silent battle waged within you. The desire to help, to make a difference, warred against the fear of exposing yourself to the dangers lurking beyond your sanctuary. The memories of the past, the reasons you returned, echoed in your mind. You wanted to help, but you knew their presence could unravel the delicate life you had crafted.

Rhysand's voice softened, a genuine plea beneath the layers of frustration. "Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?"

Then, his eyes softened, sensing a crack in your facade. Inner turmoil clouded your eyes as you locked gazes with him. The conflict within you played out in the subtle tremor of your fingers, a telltale sign of something bubbling beneath your icy exterior. But as quickly as it manifested, you shut it down, fast enough to resolve Rhys of his attentive eyes. He swallowed and fixed his composure.

"Azriel has gained information that it's not just a rise against me. There are whispers of a rebellion against Keir himself. I need you to listen for information from your father."

Your father. A wave of nausea rippled throughout your body and you clenched your jaw in response. The title sounded strange coming from Rhysand, a stark reminder of your place here, of your place in his family. No, no. You thought. I will not let them see me falter.

Rhysand continued, "Azriel has gathered intelligence, but we need someone on the inside. We need you."

A cynical smile now played on your lips as you taunted them, "Maybe it's time for a change. The mighty High Lord struggling to keep control – how novel."

Azriel, who had maintained a cold silence until now, spoke up for the first time, taking a heavy step forward towards where you sat.

"We both know you do not mean that."

You turned your gaze to him, eyes dark. "And what do you know about what I mean, Azriel? You don't know anything about me."

Rhysand put a hand out in front of Azriel’s form, biting back his retort. The room hung heavy as you finally declared, "You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Rhysand's eyes met yours with a determined glint.

"I will be back. Family does not give up."

His words pulled out a surge of anger bubbling within you. Family? Without a second thought, you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "Family, huh?" Your voice dripped with bitterness, and you moved toward him, anger etched on your face.

But before you could reach him, Rhysand winnowed away with a controlled fury, leaving Azriel lingering.

Azriel stood still, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed at you. You met his gaze and felt a wave of guilt through your body, filling the hole where your fury once was a second before. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Azriel was….. Disappointed? Hurt? But you stabilized yourself, pushing the observation away. Your anger, raw and unfiltered, had an intensity that took even him by surprise. He held your gaze. Then, like a wisp of darkness, he too disappeared, leaving you alone with the remnants of unresolved tension and the taste of bittersweet candied treats lingering in the air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

a/n: hello hello!! welcome to my lil new fic!! im new here and i have no idea what im doing but i hope at least one person enjoys what has become my creative fictional baby. when i tell you this story has a place in my HEART....y/n here is multilayered and complex and flawed but that is why i love her!! serving cunt 24/7!!!

tumblr scares me so any feedback is so very loved and any advice is great too!! mwuah

[probablyasocialecologist]

Hasbara is a Hebrew word defined by the Israeli government as “public diplomacy” that seeks to “influence the perception of Israel abroad.” Critics like Noam Chomsky, meanwhile, have described hasbara more bluntly as a “sophisticated system of propaganda.” On the internet, hasbara now includes a network of websites and users dedicated to manufacturing pro-Israel posts and manipulating social media platforms to remove content sympathetic to the Palestinian cause. The online Hasbara Machine is sophisticated indeed, and its existence raises an important question: why doesn’t anyone in a position of power seem to be concerned? So far, the Washington Post is one of the only prominent news outlets to touch this subject. In an eye-opening January 25 article for the paper, Taylor Lorenz describes a variety of websites and apps that “help automate pro-Israel activism online.” As it turns out, this is an understatement. One website uncovered by Lorenz, called “Project T.R.U.T.H.,” claims to generate AI “fact check” responses to posts about Israel, ready-made for the user to copy and paste online. (The acronym stands for “Timely Responses for Unbiased Transparency and Honesty.”) Two others are called “Moovers” and “Words of Iron.” On these sites, users are not only supplied with pro-Israel content to post, but encouraged to report as “hate speech” designated posts that criticize Israel or express sympathy for Palestinians. When I first read it back in January, I found Lorenz’s article incredibly disturbing. So I decided to visit a few of these websites and see for myself how they operate. What I found only increased my alarm. 

[dumbsoftheart]

gibson girl

pairing: post-university!coriolanus snow x reader

tags: 18+, mdni. dark themes, heavy mention of drug and alcohol usage, abusive/toxic relationship, calls reader a bitch, degradation, cunnilingus, vaginal sex

summary: “obsession with the money, addicted to the drugs. says he’s in love with my body, that’s why he’s fucking it up.” you and coryo aren’t proud of the relationship you’ve built, but you both can’t seem to get enough of each other.

notes: yes this is a repost because i did not proofread this and got a bit embarrassed. this is probably my most crudely written work, sorry (not!), and for a lack for better words is not as carefully written as my other fics, but i hope you all like it <3 this is probably the last i will write for coryo aside from any continuations of past works for now so soak it all in!!!!!

word count: 3.2k

౨ׅৎ

in the dimly lit hideaway of pluribus’s nightclub, where pulsating lights of reds, purples, blues, greens gleamed kaleidoscopically against the writhing mass of glittering bodies and thumping music, stood coriolanus snow. he hated the affair, being clamoured in the sweat and smoke of dancing strangers, a complete infiltration of his personal space, and far too stuffy for anyone’s comfort. it was an incongruous occurrence, his presence in the glitter-drenched revelry. clemensia had tormented him that day, with piercing whines of “but it’s your birthday!” and “won’t you ever have fun?”, and there he was, ludicrously dressed in slacks and a half-undone button-up shirt, courtesy of a drunken sejanus, traces of glitter— which he despised, smeared across his face and neck. when arachne had showed up and rubbed her lustre infested fingertips all over his clean-shaven face, he’d wanted to kill her right then and there. he sat there,  wide-legged in the private section of the club, fiddling with a half empty bottle of champagne with happy birthday! streamers dangled across his shoulders. he’d had about three of festus’s liquor concoctions, with their repulsively sweet maraschino aftertastes, but amidst the chaotic symphony that had his head spinning, there existed one exception to his distaste for the ordeal—a vision he couldn't bring himself to detest: you.

festus sat next to him, head nodding and lolling to the side from inebriation, and coriolanus kept a distant eye on clemensia and arachne as they disappeared into the dense crowd of hot, glittering bodies. his body yearned for the solace of his bed, plagued by the ache of alcohol and half-hearted dancing that numbed his legs, and the variegated torment of the club's vibrant lights— and then there you stood.

adorned in a cascade of the remnant sparkles that had rubbed off on you as you danced, gold flakes carefully splayed across your eyelids, and a daringly short dress hugging tightly on your hips graced your curves as you moved without care among the chaotic company of the nightclub. when coriolanus watched you beeline into his peripheral, open-backed dress teasingly swaying as you spun in hand with one of your friends, smiling so bright you outshone everyone else in that godforsaken bar, his hands tightened on the bottle held between his legs, and he exhaled slowly through parted lips. 

the subtle reaction provoked a slight nudge and a cocky smile from festus, to which coriolanus rolled his eyes childishly at, fixing his gaze between his legs in an attempt to veil the growing want spreading through his veins. festus wasted no time in spewing some audacious insinuations about coriolanus and a hypothetical "dancing girl across the room" to a stumbling clemensia and arachne (“so every girl in here?” arachne had giggled, rippling a current laughter throughout the rest of the group and a juvenile grumble from festus). then, without warning, coriolanus pulled himself to his feet and pushed your way, propelled by a mix of inebriated bravado and annoyance, running a hand through his hair nervously as he (cutely) tried to dance his way to you. 

drunk and hazy, you wasted no time in latching your arms around him, flashing him a smile that had him feeling weak and guiding him to sway in tandem with you as the music blared and vibrated through your souls. you’d coaxed his hips to move in consonance with yours, and soon he’d figured out the rhythm you set, his hands delicately enveloping the contours of your waist. he was grinding his hips against the curve of your ass yours in a manner that was far too seductive for a first encounter and had you gasping lowly under the booming noise of music and conversation. 

by the end of the night, coryo had bid his friends goodbye with his lips half-attached to yours, and fucked you so good and hard you struggled to walk for a week. 

he returned the next weekend, alone, a halfhearted attempt to alleviate his stresses within the familiar embrace of the bustling speakeasy. he needed a drink, and he went to the first place he could think of. he had expected the place to be buzzing on a friday night, but he hadn’t expected to see you again. 

he hated smoking, but something about the way you slowly let the dense vapour of your joint escape your lips with a dimwitted smile made his cock twitch. with a swig of whiskey, he made his way towards you, snatching the long stick of cannabis from your fingers and taking a long, hot drag. in a fluid motion, he closed the space between you, blowing the smoke between the parted entrance of your lip-glossed lips with a light hand venturing to your waist. the night continued with you on his lap, high and dazed from both the weed and the delicious feeling of coriolanus’s lips on your neck, sucking and nipping dark marks onto the softness of it. he was marking you as his, and you loved every second of it. 

he coaxed you into a few more drinks, cooing words of dirty praise into your ear when you downed the dark liquor from his hands, whispering softly in your ear how much he loved your body, the sweet and sexy suppleness of it, and you became his, entirely. when he beckoned you to take another drag of a joint, you complied. when he whispered into your ear the order of his drink, you fetched it for him, sipping it lightly on his command, and when he bent you over the club’s bathroom sink and ordered you to spread your legs a liiittle further, you did. 

after that occurrence, it was like clockwork. he was downright filthy when he fucked you; he’d show up, tense with frustrations from work, and there you’d be, beautiful and seductive as ever, and he would fuck his tribulations into your sweet little cunt like his life depended on it. like he never got tired of it, he’d slowly drag the head of his cock over your slick folds, circle it around your clit and then pound into you sloppily. he’d mumble how dirty you were before loading you with his cum, then he’d flip you over and finger-fuck you to a blissful release, making sure not a single drop of his load escaped your throbbing hole. he especially liked fucking you in the clothes he bought you, ruining the expensive fabrics he splurged on greedily. you’d grown used to the gifts he’d send you. you didn't know how he’d found your address, but you couldn't find it in you to care. the plethora of dresses and jewellery and shoes he sent you, always tagged with a note, for my aphrodite, made up for it. you loved dressing up for him, to his tastes, because it made him desire you all the more. the minute he caught sight of you in his hand picked ensemble, it was impossible to get his hands off of you. he was addicted to you, and how easy it was for him to claim you. just like that, you were his, and he loved even more that you embraced it; showed him off. 

coriolanus hated the bright colours of the club, but he adored them on you. he’d always pick dresses and accessories that glinted brightly in the right light, and he’d set the dark private room to a cool silvery blue that was easy on the eyes. you’d dance for him, not because he asked, but because you loved it, and he’d sit smugly and watch, sipping on some dark liquor that you loved to taste on him before pulling you onto his lap with a small laugh and letting you ride him until the sun rose again. when you ground your hips against him, sucking him to the base, he’d string his hands through your hair and moan out pathetically, “i’m never gonna let you go, never gonna let you fucking go,” which was far too intimate for the relationship the two of you had struck, but it only drew your orgasm closer and made your heart swell, the bittersweet combo better than any drug you could take on the market. 

he was addicted to you, in every sense of the word. “takin’ my cock so well, baby, fuck” he’d choke out in a high pitched whine, nails digging even deeper into your ass as he slammed your velvety walls into him, “pretty fuckin’ pussy.. sucks me in like it needs me,” his thrusts would get sloppier, your pretty moans egging him on to coax more out of you to satiate his fix. in a moment of vulnerability, he’d peer down at you with his brows scrunched together, lips quivering and ask, “do you need me?” 

you were too dumb and fucked out to answer, just as he liked, and he loved to slide a lousy hand to rub circles on your swollen clit while he angled his fat cock in a way that made your body weak and drool escape from the corners of your mouth, and repeat the question until your body shook uncontrollably with pleasure. 

“n-need you so bad, coryo, fuck me so good, please, please” you would pant in your breathy, whiny voice, absolutely unintelligible, squirming and shaky. 

“tell me again, baby, do you need me?” he’d try to overstimulate the words he wanted out of you, searching your eyes desperately until you croaked out a small yes, and his head would fall into the crevice of your neck as you managed to take almost all of him simultaneously, moaning out as he came inside you. 

when things turned slightly sour between the two of you, it only fueled your aching want for each other more. you were insecure, desperate for his approval, and when you sensed a glimmer of his disinterest in you, you were quick to spark up an argument with him; the only way you could figure out to show him you care without explicitly telling him. it was toxic, and part of you loved it. you loved to rile him up, make him so angry he’d brutally grumble in your ear how much of a slut, whore, bitch you were. you loved when the two of you would go at it and he would force you into an empty room, ramble about how much he hated you while he pumped his cock into you at an agonisingly fast pace, and then bring you two to sweet relief with a barely audible i love you, please never leave me, and then send you home. 

he hit you, sometimes. it would always happen after sex, when his insecurities got the best of him and he’d strike another argument of his own to form some semblance of conversation with you, then be driven to madness by his own doing so severe that his hand would unleash upon your cheek, staining the soft skin of your mandible a familiar shade of red. when he slapped you during sex, you hated it. you had no means of fighting back and winning, so you combat him with your words. 

“you’ll never amount to anything, snow,” slap, and his hand grabbed at your tits crudely, “you can walk around this city and act like you own it,” another slap, then he’d wrap his hand around your neck as he made you cum until your body couldn’t handle it, “and you can try control everything,” slap,“but you’ll never be able to control what matters.”

you tried your best to dig at his biggest fears, vulnerabilities, anything to ignite that shimmer of pain in his eyes so he could feel a morsel of what you did for him. he was coldblooded, and it took more than a simple jab at his ego to make him bleed. you loved him. everyone knew you did, no matter how much you denied it, because you wore him everywhere you went. in your clothes lingered his scent, under them, his bruises, and you were irrevocably his. 

you knew how deep you were in after your final shred of patience snapped. coriolanus wanted to play it hard today? fine. and off you were, dancing like a whore in the middle of the dancefloor with one of coryo’s coworkers. he sat and watched you dance with a fire burning in his eyes, his teeth grinding painfully and his hand wrapped around his glass so hard it threatened to shatter (on another occasion, it did). then, when you’d snaked a hand down the drunken man’s abdomen, lip bitten and eyes heavy with lust, he’d grabbed you harshly and stormed out of the club into the cold streets of the capitol, and you smiled. the sound of your heels clacking against the pavement reverberated in your chest. you threw him a loud “fuck you!” as he tugged you out of sight from any passerby, then, without warning, you found yourself pressed up a damp wall by the neck, coriolanus’s thin fingers twisting painfully into your carotid. 

“you’re a spoiled fucking brat, you know that?” his hands plunged into your underwear, and he toyed with your clit dangerously fast as he stared you down.

“did you want to fuck him?” the way he spat at you made you squeeze your thighs together. you smiled, mouthing a slow ‘yeah’, groaning when his grip around your neck tightened and your body became lax from the lack of air and his fingers on your dripping pussy. he dropped you, stroked a loving hand through your hair then grabbed your jaw, forced it open, and dug his two fingers down your throat.

“do you think he can fuck you as good as i can, you bitch?”

you gazed up at him, eyes wet and hazy and fucked out with lust, and mumbled with a smile, “mhm..”, he forced his fingers deeper, and you moaned. 

“don’t fucking lie,” tears streamed down your face now as you struggled to breathe with his fingers shoved down your throat, and your eyes widened as you heard the familiar sound of his belt buckle, “can he make this pussy cum as hard as i do, hm?”

he hitched your dress up, pushed your panties to the side forcefully, and lined his tip with your entrance while he awaited your answer. you shrugged, slowly becoming dizzy from gagging on his slender fingers, whining from the absence of his touch, and he growled angrily as he began to pound into you relentlessly. 

he removed his fingers from your mouth to slap you wide across the face, the slick of your saliva on his fingers causing them bouncing painfully on your cheek, and your smile grew further. 

“yeah, you fucking slut, this what you wanted? for me to fuck the sense back into you?” 

coryo liked it messy. he loved berating you, degrading you, arms wrapped tightly around your torso and feeling your cunt grow wetter on his cock as he did so. he loved to make you an embarrassing, babbling mess, then force you to watch as he bullied his way into you, a rough hand in your hair as he pumped his cock with an inhuman fervour. 

“you like that don’t you? keep watching.”

“fuck, coryo!” 

“thats right baby, let ‘em hear who you belong to.” 

you pressed your forehead against his, panting heavily through parted lips as you kept your gaze on those sapphire eyes of his that you adored, mumbling incoherent pleads and apologies as your release approached. 

“are you going to listen to me?” and with a tear-inducing orgasm, you shrieked cries of yes, coryo, fuck yes! into his shoulder, biting harshly on his pale skin as you tried to quiet yourself.

you walked home that night, panties soaked with his cum and a few new bruises to remember the night from. 

this was the routine the two of you had settled in. neither of you were proud of it, neither of you liked it, but neither of you knew how to do it any differently. you didn’t know how to love unless it was through petty quarrels or you were too high to remember the feeling. coriolanus didnt know how to love unless constituted of complete, whole control of you-- and you couldn’t bear accepting his love like in that form, not sober at least. so you let him. you let him destroy you, bit by bit. you would pump yourself full of any and all drugs you could find, down the glasses upon glasses handed to you on his lap, and the two of you would love, the only way you knew how. 

when things were like that; desperate and full of unspoken feelings after a tense week of not seeing each other, the private room the two of you often booked would glitter a dark red light, flickering radiantly against the sequins of your dress, and the pearly blonde of his hair; and you’d stand above him, between his legs, stroking the soft hidden curls of his in a haze, feeling so good and loose from whatever he’d given you that you’d giggle without warning, lean close to him and press earnest, loving kisses to his lips in between mumbles of i love you’s. he would nod, tears welling in his eyes, hating how far he had to go to make you feel love for him again, and cradle your face in his hands, kissing you with every ounce of his being. you’d find yourself straddled on his lap, like always, kissing red marks along his neck and his shirt and chest gently as you comforted him, trying your best to wash away his worries and assure him that you did, in your own messed up way, truly love him. he’d flip you over, hook your legs over his shoulders and lap messily at you until morning came. he would do it forever, if he could-- get on his knees and devote himself to eating you out. his hands would grip your thighs like he was afraid you would slip away from him, and he’d rest his head on one of your thighs after making you cum for the third time, staring up at you, breathless, face glistening, and mouth parted like you were everything to him; before diving into the saccharine mess of your pussy again. he knew how to please you like the back of his hand. he knew how to edge his nose against your folds in the way that made you whine and thrash; he knew when to insert his fingers into your gummy walls, how to curl them in a way that had you come undone in a mere seconds, how to kitten-lick his way around your clit with a lewd moan, drag out long, animalistic groans from you that had you gripping his hair so hard you wondered how you didnt rip the follicles straight out his head. 

the relentless cycle of passion and pain that defined your bond, the late-night arguments that left scars deeper than their words, the moments of fleeting tenderness that were overshadowed by deceit and manipulation. whatever you and coriolanus snow had made had eroded into a relationship neither of you could understand, but neither of you could let go. you were each other’s life lines, so when he hit you, you thanked him, and when you dug your knife deeper into his heart, he’d tell you he loved you. even as he fucked you up, ruined you, you knew he was doing it out of love, and you were grateful. 

౨ׅৎ

@dumbsoftheart, 2023

[driverlando]

🗞️ is that max verstappen buying butt plugs in the same sex store that i am currently in or ??? OMFG it is him!!! he just bought handcuffs too…

Spotted: Max Verstappen’s Surprising Shopping Spree—Handcuffs and More!

In a shocking and unexpected twist, Formula 1 World Champion Max Verstappen was recently spotted indulging in some rather intimate shopping. Witnesses report seeing the Red Bull Racing star in a well-known Amsterdam sex shop, browsing a selection of adult toys and accessories. The surprise sighting has left fans and onlookers buzzing with curiosity and excitement.

The Unexpected Encounter

An anonymous source—who happened to be shopping in the same store—couldn’t believe their eyes when they recognised Verstappen casually strolling through the aisles. “Is that Max Verstappen buying butt plugs in the same sex store that I am currently in, or ??? OMFG, it is him!!!” the excited witness tweeted. The sighting quickly became the talk of Twitter.

Verstappen, who is known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, seemed quite relaxed and at ease during his shopping trip. Dressed in a low-key outfit, the 26-year-old driver didn’t shy away from picking up some interesting items. Among his purchases, the witness noted, were a set of handcuffs—raising plenty of eyebrows and questions.

A Peek Into Verstappen’s Private Life?

This unexpected encounter offers a rare glimpse into the private life of one of Formula 1’s most private and focused athletes. While Verstappen is typically reserved about his personal affairs, this outing suggests he’s not afraid to explore new and adventurous aspects of his life.

The incident has sparked a flurry of speculation among fans and the media. Who is the lucky partner joining Verstappen on this adventurous journey? Is this a new relationship, or is he simply adding a bit of spice to an existing one? While the Dutch driver has kept his romantic life relatively low-profile, this public purchase has certainly set tongues wagging.

Fans React

As news of the sighting spread, reactions have been mixed. Some fans were amused and delighted by the revelation, taking to social media to share their thoughts. “Max Verstappen buying handcuffs and butt plugs? I guess we all have our hobbies!” one fan tweeted, accompanied by a laughing emoji. Another wrote, “Love seeing F1 drivers being normal people with fun sides! You do you, Max!”

Others were more reserved, respecting Verstappen’s right to privacy. “Everyone’s entitled to their personal life, even celebs,” one comment read. “Let the man shop in peace.”

The Shop’s Response

The sex shop, which is popular among locals and tourists alike, declined to comment directly on the specific purchases or the presence of high-profile customers. However, they did issue a general statement: “We respect the privacy of all our clients and are pleased to offer a discreet and comfortable shopping experience. Everyone is welcome to explore their desires in a safe and judgement-free environment.”

What’s Next?

While the incident has certainly piqued public interest, it remains to be seen if Verstappen will address the situation. Known for his focus and seriousness on the track, this playful and unexpected side of him has caught many by surprise. Whether this was a one-time visit or the start of a more open exploration of his personal interests, only time will tell.

For now, fans and followers of Max Verstappen will be left to speculate and, perhaps, see him in a slightly different light. This peek behind the curtain reminds us all that even the most celebrated athletes are human, with their own unique tastes and interests.

Stay tuned for more celebrity gossip and behind-the-scenes glimpses into the lives of your favourite stars. Whether on the track or off, the excitement never stops!