#that I absolutely want to understand better

[iamactuallysocute]

Who's the freakiest out of the saja boys do u think

asking for a friend

This was a harder one. (No pun intended. Maybe a little.) They’re all freaky so I’ll just rank them.

cw: NSFW UNDER THE CUT!! such as mentions of spanking, toys, hair pulling, biting, pinning, no actual smut scenes written though, just talking about sex

Romance, no question. I’m not saying this because his name is Romance, no. I’ve put literal thoughts into this and have a note in my notes app that simply says that he likes getting spanked. He’s got patience, knows every trick in the book and then some. Into eye contact. Into toys. Into worshipping you. Do I have to say more?

Abby. The THINGS this man is capable of. He’s mostly a freak w the positions though bc he’s strong enough to go from doggy to Mongolian-Lotus-Balltwister-Christmas edition-Strictly on the floor 3000 in a second if u get what I mean. My man has stamina. Willing to try anything once. You have to shout at him to keep the condom on though, not a big fan. All brawn, a little shy after, but you wouldn’t stop smiling for a week. Think “accidentally broke the bed” energy. Likes mirror sex. Gets off on praise. Real good at lifting you without warning. Would absolutely rail you then ask if it was better than Romance. (It was.)

Baby. He’s a slut your honor. When he’s not too lazy to be one, he’s a freak. From that on, wild card. The kind who pulls hair and tests limits, and then acts like it didn’t mean anything after. (It did.)

Jinu. Sweet. Soft. …Until he isn’t. Built like a gentleman, but there’s something under the surface. Like the first time it happens, he’s hesitant—slow hands, whispered consent, forehead kisses—but the third time? He’s got your wrists above your head and his teeth in your shoulder. When he gets into it, it’s mind-blowing. Polite dirty talk. Praise kink. Wants to make sure you feel everything. Probably the only one who says “please” before ruining your week. Patient. Dangerous in that “let’s try that again, slower” kind of way.

Mystery. You didn’t expect him to be at the bottom, am I right? Him being the last one doesn’t mean he’s not freaky, kid you not he is. No instructions necessary. Probably bites. Definitely doesn’t warn you first. Doesn’t speak, but you’ll hear him. He’d pin you against the wall with one hand and growl into your neck. Might not understand “foreplay” as a concept but knows exactly where to touch.

[narcjsistx]

please I have such a good request that I think is funny. After chapter 307, imagine Reader asks Sae if they can buy a pet bunny and he instantly tells her no, and she’s asking why not and he’s like “ No 😐🥀” but like, crack. It can be smau or fic I FEEL IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY THO

i usually don't make written fic requests, only smau ones, but this one really made me laugh. so here we are guys

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

it felt strange to have SAE ITOSHI at home for more than three days in a row �� strange, but definitely pleasant. the spanish tour had just ended with great results, and that gave him the chance to finally relax a little, in the quiet of his home

it was nice to actually be able to hug him, and not just send a message he’d only read hours later in his hotel room. it was even nice just to spend time together in the same room, too

sae genuinely thought these days would be the best of the month — finally free to train only when he truly felt like it, and most of all, finally able to spend time with you after months of random flights for equally random, short-lived visits

he thought the days would pass by peacefully, with you

big mistake, sae itoshi.

"babe, can you watch the video i sent you?"

"okay. which one of the last... fortytwo?"

it wasn’t anything new to see that many videos waiting when he opened your chat. it was a habit you had since the very beginning of the relationship, and honestly, he didn’t mind it

"you’re not funny! it’s not fortytwo, c'mon..."

"fortysix."

"... just watch the last seven"

opening the chat, the number of bunnies that appears before his eyes is disgustingly disgusting. he sees all kinds: short fur, long fur, white, black, brown, long ears, short ears. his throat tightens almost automatically as he looks up — only to find you already standing in front of him with your phone in hand, with that face that, ever since you two got together, has never once been told no. he sighs bored, as you throw yourself down next to him on the couch, holding your phone right up to his face. instinctively he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer — but he’d throw that bunny on your screen as far away from him as humanly possible

"look how cute it is! it’s looking for a home, it’s up for adoption at the center near our hom—"

"absolutely not."

you turn surprised, lowering the screen slightly. you press your lips together like you’ve just received the worst news of your life, and sae already regrets having answered so coldly. it’s just that he can’t understand how such a cute animal could have the name of a jerk — the ultimate jerk, the very ultimate jerk

"... you don’t like bunnies?"

oh, he’d definitely like them more if they didn’t remind him so much of that barcha jerk — so jumpy and damn tall. sae clears his throat, moving the screen away from his face

"i don’t like bunnies"

"why? they’re so innocent, they don’t need much attention, and im home most of the time anyway"

"i don’t like them because they’re messy, they smell, they pee everywhere, and they ruin dreams that have nothing to do with them—"

"... i don’t think they do that?"

sae raises an eyebrow, then runs a hand through his hair — just to calm himself down a little. you look at him with that look, the one that’s been his downfall for years now. suddenly, your face is replaced by iglesias’s, and for a moment, sae is completely speechless. only when your actual face comes back into view he let out a sigh of relief, a very long one

"i just don’t think it’s the right pet for us, considering my job and the fact that you want to start university. don’t you think maybe... i don’t know, a dog would be a better choice?"

"but i want a bunny"

"yeah, and i’d like to be a striker, but things don’t always go the way we want"

"i don’t see how that has anything to do with what i said..."

"im just telling you to listen to me, trust me. bunnies are evil"

you give him a bit of a look, then slump against his shoulder with a pout. sae starts running his fingers through your hair, fully aware that maybe — just maybe — he’s won this battle, a battle harder than the one against barcha a few months ago

"i already had a list of names ready"

sae sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. the gesture doesn’t quite erase your pout, but your eyebrows are furrowed just a little less. hearing the list can’t possibly cause another mental breakdown… right?

"alright, let’s hear it. what were you thinking?"

"OKAY SO… since we’re in spain, i thought of a spanish name. everyone gives their pets human names, but i want to stand out… with building names. i was thinking of… catedral, colegio, cine, estadio... maybe even tienda, iglesia—"

oh, no bunny will ever cross the threshold of this house as long as sae is alive. neither human nor animal

[dirtyl0ver]

girl your post about the creeps' reaction to their s/o getting hit on was so good 😭 I don't know if this is a good request but, I kinda wonder how the creeps would react to one of them having the exact type of S/O that they want? For example, Jeff having a sweet and devoted S/O and Toby watching from the sidelines thinking he could treat her better. Again I'm sorry if this is cringey 😭😭😭

Yes yes yes, this is such a juicy request!! 🤭 LET'S DO IT.

Creeps React to Another Creep Landing Their Ideal S/O

Jeff with a sweet devoted S/O, and Toby’s aching jealousy

Toby knows what it means to be broken. To be twitchy, volatile, always two seconds from shattering. He doesn't understand softness, and he absolutely doesn't believe he deserves it.

So when he sees you, Jeff's girl, all sugar-sweet smiles and gentle touches, someone who treats Jeff like he’s worth something - it hurts.

You laugh at Jeff’s crude jokes. You let him push you around a little. You still hold his hand after he’s been a dick to everyone else in the room. You treat him like he's the sun even when he burns you.

Toby doesn’t get it. He watches from across the room with clenched fists and a hollow feeling in his chest.

And Jeff notices. Of course he does.

He’ll sling an arm around you, kiss your neck lazily, eyes locked onto Toby like: Yeah. You see this? All mine. And Toby can’t look away.

One day, when you’re alone, curled up on the couch, maybe reading or watching something, Toby finds himself beside you before he can stop himself. Not too close.

And it slips out, raw and unintended: “Y-you could… you know. Do better. Than him.”

You glance up, blink, then smile like you’re used to people not understanding. And you tell him the truth: Jeff lets you be you. He doesn’t try to fix you. Loves the wild and crazy in you. He makes you feel seen.

That sticks to Toby’s ribs like a splinter. Because he wants to be that for someone, he just doesn’t believe he ever will be.

Tim/Masky with a soft-spoken smart girl, and Jack watching with quiet disdain

Tim is rough and loud. The type to crack open a beer at 10AM and call it breakfast.

So when Jack sees you, elegant, articulate, maybe a bit nerdy in that charming, head-in-the-clouds way, laughing as Tim carries your bags or kisses your temple after teasing you about your book choices? Jack wants to scream.

He doesn’t, obviously. He just watches carefully, head slightly tilted. Internally judging every second of it.

To him, it’s a waste. Tim doesn’t deserve someone like you, someone who's thoughtful, emotionally nuanced, genuine. Jack can’t understand how you put up with Tim’s rough edges, and even worse, how you seem to like it.

You show up in the infirmary sometimes, helping Jack sort supplies. You’re competent, and kind, and focused.

So he says something. Barely a line, but deliberate: “You’re intelligent. Which makes your taste in men… interesting.”

You laugh, brushing it off like it’s nothing. “Oh, come on. That’s just Tim. He’s got his moments. He listens, you know? When it counts.”

Jack doesn’t respond. But something settles cold and heavy in his chest. You think Tim listens? He doesn’t even hear himself half the time.

Jack, on the other hand, hears everything.

Brian/Hoodie with a flirty and funny girl, and Ben is spiraling

You’re fun. A little wild. The kind of girl who knows what’s trending. You wear shorts that are too short, laugh too loud, tease too hard, and somehow, you’re with Brian.

Stone-faced, brooding Brian. The human equivalent of a dial tone.

Ben doesn’t get it. Doesn’t want to get it.

He starts slow. Sends you memes where Brian’s the butt of the joke. “Haha, imagine dating a guy with the emotional depth of a potato.” You laugh, sometimes you even play along. But you never drag Brian, never cross a line.

That pisses Ben off more.

So he escalates.

“Doesn’t he bore you?” “Bet I could make you laugh twice as hard.” “You sure you’re not just with him ‘cause he’s tall?”

Eventually, you fire back. Light-hearted and cheeky, but firm: “He’s funny when he wants to be. He gets me. And honestly? He treats me like gold. Can’t say that about you, gamer boy.”

Ben laughs it off, a strained hollow sound. But inside? He’s bleeding. And when Brian shows up behind you, resting a hand on your lower back like you belong there? Ben turns cold.

He doesn’t try anymore after that. But the way he glares at Brian - oh it’s personal now. Like he lost a game he never even got to play.

[81astriss]

do you think i have forgotten about you? | arthur leclerc

fem!reader x arthur leclerc

2.8k words

in which you and arthur have been exchanging letters since childhood until one day, he stops.

a/n: just re-read five survive by holly jackson (5* read i def recommend 😛) !!! this is semi-inspired by arthur's letter to red and bc i miss the pen pal i had when i was like 10 :(

playlist

March 29, 2007

To: Y/n

Hello, this is Arthur. My maman told me that writing letters would better my english but I think my english is fine? Anyways, I am from Monaco and I like racing like my brother and my father. Love for racing just runs in the genes I think. What do you like? I don't have much to say honestly so I'm sorry that this is your first impression of me. I hope you're doing good.

From: Arthur

⎯

April 10, 2007

To Arthur,

Hello! I'm Y/n, as you already know. I've been expecting your letter actually! My mother said you'd be writing. This is actually so cool I've always wanted a pen pal :o

I like music, I play piano. I don't know much about racing but I will ask my dad about it! Looking forward to exchanging more letters with you. And don't worry about your first impression, it is okay for me!

- Y/n :)

⎯

August 8, 2011

Dear Y/n,

I don't understand how you enjoy going to school. I would much rather do karting all day everyday. My dream is to get into F1 (like I already said about a million times) and it's useless to sit in school learning fractions.

My grandmother is making me learn piano. I don't want to but since you play the piano, I'll learn it so I can play with you when you go here :D Watch out though, I might become better than you!

Nothing entertaining has happened recently but if something does, I'll make sure to tell you first.

Love, Arthur

P.S. Charles says hi. He thinks this is a love letter??? (ew)

⎯

August 20, 2011

Dear Arthur,

To be honest, I don't enjoy school at all. I only get excited to go here for my friends and because I like learning about countries. I want to travel a lot when I'm older. The first country I'll visit is Monaco so maybe you can show me around! We can talk about F1 (i've been learning more about it) and piano now that you're learning it.

And speaking of piano, there's absolutely NO way that you're going to get better than me at it. Between the two of us, I am THE piano master >:) Though you should listen to your grandmother and learn. It's a beautiful instrument and it sounds magical if you play it well. But even if you learn, you'll never get better than me hehee

Nothing much has also happened in my life (unfortunately) but I'll write right away when something does happen!

Love, Y/n

P.S. Hi Charles :D This is not a love letter, that's gross and also we're 10. And also I found a pink pen :P

⎯

February 14, 2014

Dear Y/n,

Happy valentines! Although by the time this reaches you it won't be valentines anymore. Some girls left letters in my locker and while I appreciate the effort, it sucks that I have to turn them down because I'm not interested in them. Do you have a valentine this year? Charles gave a girl chocolates that had nuts and she said she was allergic lol. It was so embarrassing to watch.

And while we're on the topic of Charles, don't tell anyone but we don't have enough money to let both me and him do racing. Honestly, I don't know what to do. I might quit just so he could continue because he's a much better driver than I am. He has a better shot at getting into F1 than I do. But I love racing and my brother. I really do. It's just sad that I will have to stop for a bit.

Now change topic so it isn't sad, I'm so good at piano now. Like Beethoven is shaking in his grave. You can't compare :P Guess who's the piano master now. >:)

Love, Arthur

⎯

February 14, 2014

Dear Arthur,

It's valentines again! I still don't have a valentine again this year and it SUCKS! All my friends and even my teachers have one. This isn't fair. Is this what it's like to be a teenager? Lonely and sad and falling behind in love?

February 26, 2014

Hey, I just got your letter. I'm so sorry to hear that, what you're doing for Charles and for your family is really selfless and shows how generous you are. I admire what you're doing. Is there any way we can help financially? Maybe my mom can send you money? Remember I'm always here for you if you need emotional support from so many kilometers away >:) and hey, when you get the money, you can come back even better eh? Don't feel too bad.

And now that I'm done comforting you... There is NO WAY in hell that you're that good. Beethoven is shaking in his grave because you're using his name in vain. Don't get cocky now. When we meet, I challenge you to a piano playing challenge which rules are ones that I haven't thought of yet. >:(

Write back, Beat oven!

Love, Y/n

⎯

March 29, 2014

Dear Arthur,

I think my other letter may have gotten lost in the mail haha... it was about valentines and a reply to you having to take a racing hiatus and comparing you to the legend himself, Ludwig van.

Okay anyways. Life updates from me are: I started learning violin and my mother and I might go to Paris! I'm so excited because this is the first time I'll go out of my country :D

But anyways, how are you doing? How are you holding up given everything?

Write back!

Love, Y/n

⎯

August 10, 2014

Dear Arthur,

If you hate me you can just say so :/ Nah I'm joking but I'm sending this from another post office because I think the other post office keeps losing my letters for some reason. I don't think they're reaching you so that's my explanation if you haven't heard from me over the past months. Promise I'm not ignoring you!

It's been a while since I heard from you. It's unusual, not seeing your name in my mailbox. I hope you're doing okay. :)

Write back soon!

Love, Y/n

⎯

October 14, 2014

Happy birthday, Arthur!

Enjoy your golden birthday :O I hope that only good things come for you today and for the rest of your life <3

Still haven't heard from you for 8 months. Did you move away without telling me? Have you forgotten about me? Okay it's wrong for me to ask this on your special day. I'm sorry for being selfish.

Happy 14th! Enjoy your day.

Love, Y/n

⎯

December 25, 2014

Dear Arthur,

MY CHRISTMAS GIFTS WERE SOOOO COOL!!!!!!

I got a lego airplane, a guitar, and a bike! I've been asking for a bike for so long and now I finally get to have my own! What about you what did you get for christmas?

Please write back, thanks!

Love, Y/n

⎯

January 1, 2015

Dear Arthur,

Happy new years! What's your new years resolution? Mine is to get even better at violin, travel more, and do better in school.

Please write :(

Love, Y/n

⎯

October 14, 2015

Dear Arthur,

Happy birthday! :)

Love, Y/n

⎯

December 25, 2015

Dear Arthur,

Merry Christmas to you and your family! :)

Love, Y/n

⎯

January 1, 2016

Arthur,

Happy new years.

- Y/n :)

⎯

March 29, 2017

I miss your letters, Arthur.

Love, Y/n

⎯

July 17, 2024. You were on day 2 out of 3 of your visit to Monaco, the place you've always dreamed of going to.

It was a Wednesday, and the cafe you entered was filled with people. You looked around for a place to sit and saw only one seat available on a table for 2. There was a man on the other end of the table, someone you didn't recognize at all.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" You ask, gesturing to the one across him.

"Ah, no it isn't," he smiles, "feel free to occupy it."

The man looked like he walked straight out of a romance book. He had brown, unkept hair that also looked fixed at the same time—a look which he somehow pulled off. His eyes were somewhere you could get lost in and his french accent was prominent. Maybe this was your romcom moment, you thought, meeting someone in a coffee shop in a foreign country.

You sat there, staring out the window, admiring the scenery while he just stayed on his phone. Not long after, the barista called out your name and drink.

"Thank you for letting me sit for a while."

"It's no problem, really."

"I'm Y/n by the way." You give out your hand and he shakes it before you walk away.

Y/n.

Your voice echoed in his ears as the sound of your name sent waves throughout the boy's entire being.

He watched as you exited the cafe, drink in the hand that shook his. Your touch still lingering on his palm.

⎯

July 17, 2024

My dearest Y/n,

You're just as beautiful as I imagined you to be.

Love, Arthur

⎯

July 18, 2024

Y/n,

Okay that first letter was so out of place and not good to send as a standalone haha. Sorry about that!

Okay for real now, I'm sorry I stopped writing. To be honest, I don't have an excuse for it. I was stupid and with everyone being on their phones more often, I got lazy to write.

I kept your letters in case one day I found the motivation to write back, even though I never did. I'm sorry for making you feel like your letters never reached me at all. I'm sorry if you thought I forgot about you. I never did, not once. I could never forget you. I shouldn't have done that to you, I know. I'm sorry, I truly am. I should've given you another way to contact me or stayed in touch even if I had nothing to say instead of leaving you in the dust. I was young and stupid. I'm sorry.

You can hate me. You probably already do and I understand and respect that. I deserve it. But I want to reconnect with you again, if you'd let me. I promise I'll do better than I did at 14.

Sincerely, Arthur

⎯

August 1, 2024

Arthur.

What the fuck. There has to be something wrong with you because what. the. fuck.

So you didn't move away or die or whatever and you just ignored me for YEARS? I think I would much rather be forgotten. That's a lie. I wouldn't. But you can't just say "You're as pretty as I thought you were" or some shit and pretend that fixes EVERYTHING.

You're right! Wow! I do indeed hate you for not writing. You're an asshole. You made me look stupid thinking I was writing to the air for years. I hate you. How dare you even try to contact me again. You can't just do that. You can't just ignore me for years then write to me again and pretend like nothing happened then just move past it.

But in all honesty I've missed your letters. I've missed seeing your name in the mail. I've missed you.

Nice to finally meet you in person, I guess.

Y/n

⎯

August 19, 2024

Dear Y/n,

This won't reach you in time for Zandvoort so will you please come to Monza for the race please? I'll pay for everything. Your flight, your hotel, your food, everything. I want to speak to you in person. Please.

Love, Arthur

⎯

August 27, 2024

to: Arthur Leclerc arthurleclerc@gmail.com from: Y/n L/n youremail@domain.com subject: Monza GP Invitation

Fine, I'll be there.

Y/n

⎯

September 2, 2024

Dear Y/n,

Thank you for letting me in your life once again. I'm so glad I got to catch up with you. I've clearly missed a lot in your life, I mean obviously a decade is a long time but still. I don't have much to say since they were already said in person.

You really are more beautiful than what I imagined (that's not an insult, please don't take that the wrong way.) It feels like I could stare at you for an eternity. If Charles from 13 years ago saw this letter I'd be teased relentlessly for writing a 'love letter' but it's true. You truly are one of the most gorgeous people I've seen.

Write back, hopefully?

Love, Arthur

⎯

September 19, 2024

Arthur,

Another letter? Wow, you really do enjoy pushing your luck. But then again here I am replying so your gamble was worth it in a way.

I admit it was nice catching up with you. It made me realize how much we've grown from the kids we once were and what a huge part of your life I wasn't in. You really missed a lot in my life and I also missed a lot of yours. I still remember making a promise about how we would tell each other when something major happens.

Congratulations to Charles for P1 in Monza and P2 in Baku.

- Y/n

⎯

December 7, 2024

Dear Y/n,

I was able to drive alongside Charles in free practice! Don't know if you watched it. It was amazing and full of emotion. It was so surreal and I wish you were there to see it in person.

Love, Arthur

P.S. This is me keeping my end of the promise and updating you with every major thing that happens in my life.

⎯

December 25, 2024

Merry Christmas, Y/n.

Love, Arthur.

⎯

January 1, 2025

Merry Christmas and happy new year, Arthur. (& to your family as well)

Thank you for finally keeping your end of the promise. Took you long enough. Seems like your wish of making it into F1 doesn't seem so far? Good to be updated again with all the happenings in your life.

I'm so thankful we were able to talk again after so long. Even though I was dead set on loathing your entire existence for the rest of my life, I'm glad I didn't continue with that mindset.

I hope only good things come your way. Keep in touch?

Love, Y/n

P.S. Sorry for taking a bit long to write back (even tho u took longer)

⎯

January 1, 2025

Dear Y/n,

Happy new year to you and your family!

Thank you so much for letting me back into your life. I wasn't sure if you still would given that I did you so dirty back then. Glad that we're able to move past that and focus on our friendship now.

May the new year only bring you good luck and things and more travels.

Love, Arthur

P.S. Take as long as you want, I'll just be here waiting.

⎯

March 29, 2025

Arthur,

Honestly, I don't have anything else to say but I'm going to Monaco in a few days. I might already be there by the time this reaches you. I hope I see you around.

- Y/n

⎯

Sure enough, you do end up seeing him in the same cafe that you saw each other last year.

"What are the odds that I see you in the same cafe in the same spot?" You go up to him, holding your drink.

"Maybe it's fate?"

"Or maybe you're stalking me."

He leans back in his chair. "Well me, I just so happen to like this place. And you also sent me a letter saying you'd be here."

Monaco really is a small country.

You sit on the chair opposite his, looking out the window and admiring the view. You could stare at it for the rest of your life and never get tired of it.

You glance back at Arthur, who was also looking at the beautiful scenery outside. You could never get tired of him either.

⎯

April 19, 2025

Dear Y/n,

This might be too soon to ask and I know I am really pushing my luck by asking this but please don't hate me. Please.

Can I court you?

This wasn't just some random thought that occurred in my mind out of nowhere on a random Saturday. I just realized it when I saw you in the cafe for the second time. Maybe it really was fate or my stubbornness or your patience with me but whatever it was, somehow the universe always finds a way to bring me back to you. I realized then that I could get used to it—being with you for the rest of my life. I would never get tired of going to that cafe and admiring all the places I grew up seeing even if I go there every single day if it means I get to do it with you.

I know the time might not be right but I couldn't help myself any longer.

Love, Arthur

P.S. Again, please don't hate me.

⎯

May 1, 2025

To: Arthur

Yes, you may.

Love, Y/n

⎯

May 16, 2025

Y/n,

I knew it was bound to be a love letter one day.

- Charles

P.S. If ever he ghosts you again tell me. I will deal with him myself.

woooo first fic that isn't part smau (besides the email part but shhhh) !??!?! not proofread, apologies for any mistakes :)

♡ xine

[kick-a-long]

Mamdani being mayor or nyc. Obviously he’s an antisemite, he’s less obviously (but still convincingly) pro terrorism, but these things are not what primary voters cared about. They wanted a socialist to come in and make the quality of life cheaper and better as their gift to the poor who didn’t vote for mamdani. /S

Why would the poor not vote in droves for mamdani’s magical market model to fix all their woes? Because it’s bullshit. And not even the populous slam dunk of blame rich Jew lawyers, Jew bankers, Jew landlords and Jew bosses is enough to convince them otherwise.

First, mamdani has a vanishingly small chance of getting anywhere with any of his promises. He’s a baby in politics who knows no one of consequence and has no favors to trade.

Second, every promise he’s made would have the opposite of its promised outcome:

Set up free grocery stores? They will be a nightmare to run and stock (and frankly will be the target of scalpers who will just go in and buy up the subsidized products and sell them around town at market price with fake products mixed in.) they will fuck with the bodaga system, which is the local small business markets, as unlicensed resellers expand throughout the city and won’t need to contend with inspections and reputation of a brick and mortar store. They will get seriously hurt, they were already on life support and being kept alive by selling skunk weed and illegal vapes.

Freeze rents? The point is to bring rent down right? Well rent is high because landlords don’t want to deal with tenants or repair costs keeping old housing off the market and more importantly developers don’t want to lose money do there’s no new houses going up. You effectively tell the owners of houses not to rent them and the makers of new houses not to build in nyc.

Congrats 🎉 rich intellectual people! You tried punishing “non intellectual rich people” but only managed to further punish poor people and immigrants!! Fuck you!

It’s the same story with all his bullshit promises. This isn’t even considering how complicated keeping nyc running is. He’s absolutely not qualified to do that. Literally just getting the garbage taken out and the parks safe and open to everyone is spectacularly hard let alone the current gathering storms of nyc’s failing prisons, subways (which are controlled by the state not the city), terrorism prevention, water pipes, gas lines, highways like the BQE, legal cases, tax base, and budget.

I hate him for being a Jew hating terrorism promoting knob of shit. I also understand enough economics to know he’s at best going to do nothing, either way running the city into the ground by neglecting to addressing existential issues that are close to breaking point.

If you need to vote for a socialist, for the love of god please make sure they aren’t the kind who thinks setting their bed on fire in the middle of winter is a good way to save on gas heating.

[invaderzia1]

SKIPS SHADLEY HEADCANONS

Mainly before he’s realized

I think Skips got into most of his favorite bands because of the previous homeowners. They had a son who listened to 2010’s emo and metalcore, Skips always hung out in his room to hear more. Took a lot of notes on his clothes and the friends he kept around, which is why he looks like a 2010’s emo kid. Felt really comfortable in that style, so he made sure to perfect that look. Was so sad when that family did end up leaving.

Skips has been alive for a long time and has been alone for most of it. He had his online friends in the 2000’s, but they slowly stopped using DOL and he was back to being alone again. So he’s extra clingy with you. Like super touchy to remind himself you are here and with him. Probably needs a lot of reassurance too, but wont ask.

Comes up behind you and will poke you without saying anything. Scares the absolute fuck out of you, but he just wants you to know he’s here.

Messages you a lot on thiscord. Sometimes he’s just writing as if it’s his diary. “Today I saw a butterfly, Penumbra.” Other times, he wants your attention when you’ve used up the dateviators for the day. Asks Mac to message you often, which they find both annoying and cute of him.

9 times out of 10, he is watching you in whatever room you are in. Even if you don’t have the dateviators on, you can tell because there is always one shadow that doesn’t move.

Any time you play video games with him that lets him make his own character, he’s making a back story for them. Will shyly ask you if your characters are friends or not, and how they relate into the lore of his character. Wants to here in depth about your own characters lore.

If he sees you bleed, he freaks out. But he gets quiet and stares at you with wide eyes while almost hyperventilating. After seeing what happened to Zoey, he’s so cautious about things going wrong for you.

DO! NOT! SHOW! HIM! FINAL!DESTINATION!!! It will freak him the fuck out, even if you explain it’s not real. Like this will become his nightmare (same with the rest of the house if you romance them, but we aren’t talking about them right now.) He can handle most horror movies, but that series is his nightmare. God forbid when he is realized you try to drive behind a log truck or take him to an amusement park, he’ll be so paranoid.

When you get sick, he gets anxious. Makes sure Curt and Rod close the curtains so there’s more shadow in the room so he can take care of you. Tells Betty and Dorian to make sure you don’t get up from bed if he’s not there to stop you. Though he doesn’t fully understand what humans need to make them feel better, tries his best to make sure you are rested. It’s the most he’s ever interacted with the rest of the house.

Forgets you have to eat sometimes. Upsets him for like a fraction of a second that you’re leaving him, until he realizes you’ve been hanging out for 6 hours without interruption and your stomach is growling.

Also forgets how cold he is compared to humans. He’ll come up and try to hug you, then get confused why you jumped ten feet away. If you buy one of those giant heating pads and put it between y’all, it’ll almost feel like you are cuddling another human.

Authors note: I have more to share about him AND Curt & Rod

[thru-the-veil]

"What Will Be Your Revenge?" Pick A Card Reading

We all have villains in our story. There are many humans who exist that do not have our best interests in mind. But, no evil deed goes unpunished. I'd like to give you a glimpse into the negative consenquences or results of curses/hexes done for justice against those who have hurt you.

This is a general reading, discard what does not resonate or pick a new pile. This is for entertainment purposes and not a replacement for professional help.

₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊

₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊

Pile Number One:

They are losing status and lovers. Who they truly are has been exposed, in the most horrible way you can think of. They have been publicly humiliated and put under scrutiny. Any lovers or new love has left them, horrified by the truth. Any investors, charities, or people who mean well have pulled away from this person. Nobody is willing to "understand their perspective" or make themselves into a victim.

They may move into new places, thinking they can spin a sob story where they are the powerless victims of a symbolic witch hunt. They will be exposed with these new people as well. There is an entity that is following them, ensuring that unless they admit they were the villain and remove themselves from any position of power and influence, they will suffer.

Their biggest fear is that people will be able to see right through them, and that is their downfall. Even people who don't think deeply will be able to understand this person is dangerous. All of this is happening while you're transforming. You're becoming more beautiful, obtaining love offers, and accepting the help they thought they could manipulate their way into.

If you cursed or hexed this person, I am seeing that your spell worked, but not how you were expecting. There was a slight intervention by a divine power. The effects are still coming from your work, just in a much different, sometimes better way than you were expecting. You are very protected, especially by this entity following them. Your curse will not backfire, but do protection spells in case this person is a witch as well.

₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊

Pile Number Two:

They are seeing your glow up, and they are absolutely seething because of it. They used to try to compete with you, allowing jealousy to consume them and end up hurting you. Now, they're not even in the running. Any glamour magic you have done is working even better than expected, because that is their consenquences for hurting you. The effort you're putting in is directly influencing the justice you are recieving.

They are in a standstill, over burdened and overworked trying to keep up a veener of perfection. They may have a heavily edited internet presence, and they are having to use more filters or go into more debt to try to keep their success. They're falling off, and it's especially noticeable when people look at how well you're doing. They can try all they want, even do their own glamour magic, but it's what they get for acting the way they did.

Their biggest fear is being imperfect and judged, scared to take any kind of unconventional path or end up looking "weird". You are embracing yourself, and doing so gracefully. You stand out, while they are being moved into the masses that they so desperately wanted the acceptance of. Your rage is silent, but isn't going unnoticed.

If you cursed or hexed this person the effects of that are coming more from your own glow up. You may have set the intention that their greatest fear would come true, and it is. Some of you may have done an "ugly curse", especially if the person is invested in how they look. The outside is now simply matching the inside. Your energy and works are not only affecting them, but they are working to give you an entire glow up. You are their greatest fear, and you're coming into yourself more and more.

₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊

Pile Number Three:

This person has befallen hard times. They have been blocked, especially academic success, for those in school. They are recieving bad grades, bad performance reviews, bad scores, and bad news. There could be many things pertaining to forwards momentum. They could be having car troubles. They could have been rejected from their dream college. They could have been denied an apartment or a dream job. Their dreams are being halted, so that they can truly sit and think about what they have done.

They acted unwise when it came to you, perhaps to the point of doing magic to block your achievements or bullying you to undo your confidence. I am seeing that this person could have been a past academic rival, or a current academic rival. They used underhanded methods such as cheating or bribery to get ahead. All of this is coming out. I picked up on a possible forgery or plagiarism that's been discovered.

Their biggest fear is being a faliure. Thus, they are failing at many things in their life. If their lover conspired against you, the lover could also be caught up in this revenge. Their life just keeps getting harder and harder the more they refuse to be humble and take the consenquences of their behavior. They earned everything. They made their bed, and now they're lying in it.

If you cursed or hexed this person, it is working exactly as intended, or it will come to fruition. It's possible you're not the only person who's set an intention against them. They could be getting consenquences from multiple people's anger. Whatever you meant to happen, will happen or is happening currently, even if you can't see it.

₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊

Pile Number Four:

I began having technology issues when I wanted to write this section. Whoever it is, they do not want anyone to know they're going through this.

There is an entity that has attached themselves to this person. I channeled a simple message from them: "Don't worry, they're going to get their just desserts." As I channeled them, my head and stomach started hurting. That channeling may be specific to a person, but the collective does have an enemy that is being attacked spiritually by an entity, specifically in the stomach and head area.

This person had a lot of pride, perhaps specifically about their magical practice. They may be a coven leader, a popular witch on social media, or a well learned and more experienced occultist. They should know how to prevent an entity attachment, but this is because of how they treated you.

They are being humbled. They are trying to keep secrets, to not let people know they're recieving consenquences they were sure they could avoid. You've been relaxing while they have been busy trying to detach this entity. They are being absolutely haunted, not only by this spirit, but by the decisions they made.

Their biggest fear is being humbled, and it is so. The effects of this entity attachment won't be seen easily, but it is harsh divine judgement on an astral, inhuman plane.

It's possible you never cursed or hexed anyone. Perhaps you are against such strains of magic. It's possible you're not a witch at all. But you are protected. And if you did curse or hex, the effects are much more severe than you could have ever set an intention for. This is truly their just desserts for years of pride.

₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊₊˚ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧ ˚₊

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope this resonated and brought some feeling of closure!

[borderlinereminders]

Communication Tips for BPD

Living with Borderline Personality Disorder can make communication feel impossible. It can feel scary. Intense emotions, fear of abandonment, and difficulty trusting others can turn even small conversations into emotional minefields. But learning to communicate more effectively is possible—and it can strengthen your relationships while also helping you feel more understood.

Here are some things I’ve learned for myself that may be helpful to you too.

Pause Before Reacting

When emotions flare, it’s easy to say things we later regret. Practicing the habit of pausing—even just taking a deep breath or counting to five—can help create space between feeling and reacting. That space is where you can choose how to respond, rather than reacting on impulse.

It’s okay to walk away if needed. While we’re often told this is manipulative, and it absolutely can be if someone does it with the intent to get their way or make someone feel bad, it isn’t manipulative by default. Saying something like “I’m not giving up on this, but I need some time to clear my head so I can communicate more effectively” can help in it not coming across as manipulative.

Use “I” Statements

Try to speak from your own experience instead of assigning blame. Saying things like, “I feel hurt when I don’t hear back from you,” is usually better received than, “You always ignore me.” It keeps the door open for connection, rather than putting the other person on the defensive. The “you” statements can also make assumptions. This leads into our next point

Check Your Assumptions

BPD can make us feel like someone is mad, abandoning us, or doesn’t care but feelings aren’t facts. Before reacting, ask: “Is there another explanation?” or even better, ask them directly: “Hey, I noticed you were quiet today, are you doing okay?”

If your friend cancels plans because she’s sick, it can be really easy to assume that she’s abandoning you, but just because you feel that way doesn’t mean it’s true.

Name What’s Going On

Being open about your BPD (when safe to do so) can build understanding. For example: “I have trouble with emotional intensity, and sometimes I react really strongly. I’m working on it, but if I seem overwhelmed, it’s not because I don’t care.”

Validate Others Too

Validation goes both ways. Just as we want to be heard and understood, so do the people we care about. Practicing validation like saying, “I can see that this is hard for you too,” can be helpful to deal with conflict and build trust. This can make the other person feel heard and they may be more open to solutions for handling the conflict.

Use Tools When You Need To

Sometimes writing things down feels safer than speaking out loud. A text, a journal entry, or even a shared note with a loved one can help express things that are difficult to say in the moment. DBT skills (like DEAR MAN or Wise Mind) are also great tools for tough conversations.

⸻

If you live with BPD, you’re not broken—you just feel things more deeply. That depth can be beautiful, but it also means communication may take more work. Be patient with yourself. Progress might feel slow, but every time you choose awareness over reactivity, you’re learning healthier ways to have relationships and that’s deserving of credit.

This is okay to utilize and/or reblog even if you don’t have BPD. While I wrote this from the perspective of someone with BPD, communication tips can be helpful for all sorts of reasons.

[w0rm3y]

HOA Horrors- R. Sukuna

overview Sukuna has beef with the Homeowners' Association in his neighborhood, and, unfortunately, isn't allowed to handle it in the way he'd like. a/n hi hi! this is lit just fluff and humor, but in a Sukuna kind of way. loosely edited, prob typos, sry, but i'm super tired rn wc 2k sparkle divider- anitalenia

The average homeowners association was able to strip the joy out of suburban living for most people; ancient, powerful deities like Sukuna were included.

All the petulant fines over the smallest changes you’ve made to your own house, on your own property, that you bought with your own money, just felt a little ridiculous. And it didn’t matter how many times that old hag reprimanded you for breaking the HOA code of conduct, you would always find it stupid. 

Usually, she’d win the argument because the everyday human didn’t feel like wasting time on trivial matters. However, this HOA president’s wife, the old hag who was currently reprimanding your husband for breaking the code yet again, wasn’t just dealing with an average human. 

Little did she know, she was reprimanding the King of Curses. Granted, it had been a long while since that name instilled the fear in someone like it used to, but that didn’t change who Sukuna was. No, of course not, it only meant that he’d… mellowed out as the years went by, and since taking you as a wife, maybe he’s voluntarily passed on a few town slaughterings for the sake of spending time with you. 

He found that if he surrounded himself with you, rather than screams of agony and the stench of blood, the world seemed a bit more pleasant. Pained shrieks had turned into a gentle melody that you’d hum in the morning, and that familiar stench of blood started to smell a lot like the flowers you obsessed over. 

He learned to enjoy the simplicity that came with being your husband, even if you overthink your gardening sometimes and force him to participate in the flower placement. While Sukuna didn’t truly care about flowers, he cared deeply for you and surrounded himself with your interests for your sake. Therefore, he had a green thumb by proxy.

“I think I’m tired of seeing these sunflowers,” you mumbled one night as you both sat on your back porch. 

And suddenly, Sukuna had a newfound dislike for sunflowers.

“I think I want to redo the flowers that line the stepping stones. What if… what if we did daylillies?” you suggested, turning to give him your usual wide-eyed stare, the one you’d always have when you asked for his input. 

“I believe they’re toxic to felines,” Sukuna added oh so subtly, gently reminding you of the neighborhood stray cats that he’d secretly feed in the backyard, which was yet another HOA violation. 

“You’re right. What about dahlias, then?”

“I like dahlias.”

Did Sukuna really like dahlias? He wasn’t entirely sure because he couldn’t recall what they looked like, but if you liked them, he liked them.

And that’s why he was awake pretty early on this fine Saturday morning, toting around with him a gardening hose that he was using to messily water the new flowers you’d planted last night. Apparently, they required a substantial amount of water, but well-drained soil, and a sunny spot that was also sheltered.  

Sukuna didn’t understand what that meant, but you did, and that’s all that mattered to him when you told him to go water the dahlias this morning while you started on breakfast for you both. 

He didn’t ask questions anymore, he just did what he was told–you knew best. 

Always. 

And if you said the backyard stepping stones looked better lined with dahlias, then that was true. There was absolutely no one who could change Sukuna’s mind, not even the HOA president’s wife, who had stumbled into your backyard gated garden.

The sight of her stalking up to your massive husband was a little funny, so you took a brief moment to watch them through the kitchen window, readying yourself to intervene as soon as Sukuna looked as though he might slice the woman in half. He had been really good so far with not using his abilities to murder humans, but you knew that this HOA lady was definitely pushing his buttons. If there was anyone who could do that without any repercussions, it was you.

 This wasn’t the first run in you or Sukuna had had with her, and it definitely won’t be the last. However, this would probably be the only time she’d ever step foot onto your property ever again without permission. Sukuna would make sure of it.

She leered at Sukuna like he was the devil incarnate, eyeing his choice of clothing, which was a black tank top and some sweat pants because he just rolled out of bed for this and wasn’t even half awake. 

Unbeknownst to the ranting woman–Terri, was her name–this was a terrible time to irritate the King of Curses, for he was grumpy on a good day, and a homicidal maniac if he was even the slightest bit tired. 

While he continued to spray the new flowers down with water, he looked at her, waiting for her to begin with the usual reprimand. 

“According to rule 6583:4-19-11, flowers must remain muted in color so as to match the other flowerbeds around the area.” 

“Is that so?” he hummed absent-mindedly. In reality, Sukuna was only thinking of crawling back into the warm bed he’d just come from after dragging you in with him. “Color is subjective.”

“Subjective?” she spat exasperatedly, motioning to all the dripping flowers at Sukuna’s feet. “There’s nothing subjectively muted about this color at all. It’s hot pink!”

“How odd. They seem rather pastel to me-”

“Don’t be smart with me, boy.”

Sukuna stiffened, big hands easing off the water hose to give this woman his utmost attention.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to? Addressing me as a boy?”

“You look to be my son’s age.”

Sukuna could feel all the bottled up rage he kept stored so tightly begin to shake on the metaphorical shelf. 

“I’d eat your son.” It was now Terri’s turn to stiffen, but her frozen figure was out of confused fear. “I could take him in my hands, tear him in two, and eat him. Now get off my property before I give you a demonstration-”

“Sukuna?” you called out, stepping onto the back porch after having sensed the rising tension in the back yard. 

But your voice didn’t hold comfort, nor was it meant to gently coax him back from doing something he shouldn’t–no, it was a warning. A warning not to do what he was thinking about doing, lest he wished to reap the consequences you’d no doubt torture him with. 

With that in mind, he suppressed his anger to the best of his ability and said, “Get off my property. Now. Dealing with you this early is torture-”

“The HOA code-”

“Take that code and shove it up your ass-”

Terri gasped, “How dare you speak to me that way-”

With a blighted groan, Sukuna raised the garden hose in his hands and unleashed the jet stream of water on the old woman. She screamed, of course, and definitely woke up the entire neighborhood in the process. Only when she was sufficiently soaked did Sukuna relent and begin to water the dahlias again. 

Wiping the water droplets from her face, Terri sputtered, “Big mistake, boy! You do know what I am?”

“A drowned hag?” he offered, voice bored and monotone once again–watching her nearly drown had quelled his need for violence just enough to not boil over. 

She let out an irritated shriek. “Oh, I will be back, and I’ll bring my husband, who happens to be the president of the HOA.”

“Mhm. You do that.”

Terri stormed off, leaving Sukuna to finish the task you’d assigned to him in peace. Afterwards, when he entered the house, his breakfast was presented to him on the kitchen table as you plated your own meal. 

“You’re not going to kill her, are you?” you asked, taking your seat next to your husband. 

“Not yet, but if she sets foot in our backyard again, I might. I swear, moving here was the biggest mistake. I didn’t think anyone could care about the color palette of the neighborhood flowerbeds. Aren’t there more pressing matters she should busy herself with? Like finding heavy-duty retinol to take care of those wrinkles? You’d think she was as old as me with skin like that.”

You giggled, “Ooo, she really has you pissed off today, doesn’t she?”

“She’s upset about the dahlias. They’re too pink.”

“Oh? If that’s all, I can find some in a different color-”

“No. You wanted pink, so they’ll stay pink.”

And with a small smile and a peck to his cheek, you dropped the subject before you ruined his mood for the entire day. But that was the end of the dispute. After returning from the store with Sukuna, you found a note that had been taped to your front door. 

Sukuna ripped it off with a grunt, reading it over before chuckling. “It’s another fine. According to her, my clothing, the garden flag, and, of course, the flower beds break the fucking code of conduct.” The paper disintegrated within seconds after he finished reading it. “How many fines have we paid since moving here?”

You shrugged and fit the key into the lock. “A lot. Maybe they’re just after our money.”

“Pathetic fools. We have more than enough money–more than they could ever comprehend.” Upon stepping inside, Sukuna took your many grocery bags to the kitchen while he pondered something to get that hag to leave you alone. Maybe he should pay back the fines in the smallest form of currency–that’s sure to get a rise out of the old woman, maybe even give her a heart attack and kill her in the process. 

The next morning, when Sukuna stepped out onto the porch to water the dahlias again, he realized he’d need to do more than pay them back with a prank. For these idiots had trampled your dahlias in the night–a clear sign that they were prepared to fight. 

Sukuna clenched his fists at his sides as he stormed back into the house, pausing in the archway of the kitchen. He cleared his throat to get your attention. 

“Woman,” he began, trying to steady his breathing as you turned to face him. “It appears this association of moronic humans has taken it upon themselves to initiate war. I will be back in less than an hour.”

You blinked at him, already imagining how this would pan out. You knew it would end with you both having to ditch your life here and escape to somewhere new, which you weren’t entirely upset about. With that in mind, you gave him a small smile, huffing out, “Okay, ‘Kuna. Be safe.”

ty, ty, ty for reading <333 also, i wanna quickly mention that if you see this posted somewhere else (inkitt & wattpad), but with Hades and Persephone as the characters, don't be alarmed. it's mine. i originally wrote it for Hades and Persephone, but i feel like it fits the vibe of Sukuna and his wife, so i made a few changes, and here we are :)

[lizzieisright]

i really love the way you write abby it’s always so humanizing of her and her character and makes her feel all the more real!! could you write hcs about abby little quirks as a girlfriend

Thank you so much! ❤️❤️

I did the hcs thingy, guys!

Definitely had a "I'm so straight" phase.

Loves stand up comedy and will make you watch it with her. This woman will find comedians that no one has ever heard of and in a few months they will suddenly become popular. She has a sixth sense for it.

Lives under a fucking rock. She doesn't have tiktok or twitter, uses Instagram as her archive.

However. Abby loves insta stories. Yeah, she could post a thirst trap in the gym, but why would she if she can post a video of a hedgehog she came across? Or a weirdly existential poster she saw? Or you doing some stupid shit like trying to open a bottle of wine with a screw and pair of pliers? (You fail, and the next video is her opening the bottle)

Obviously a gym rat, hates going to the gym with someone (even you), unless she goes the separate ways with her company. However, if you're new to the gym, Abby will gladly show you around and will abandon her own workout just to take care of you. If you hate gym, it's fine too - again, she prefers to train alone.

Abby's care is quiet: she is one of these people who does things and never talks about them. There's a famous story about Yoongi (BTS) who gives his teammates water bottles without even looking at them - that's Abby for you. She doesn't ask or even draw attention: she gives you snacks, puts her jacket on your shoulders, washes the dishes after you've cooked, and all of this is just so natural to her she doesn't even recognise it.

Abby is not the person who gets into your hobbies, but she remembers everything you've told her and will let you talk her ear off.

The most hardworking person you've met. Even if she has her family support, she still tries to find some kind of job, or puts all her effort in her studies.

Abby hates all these healthy recipes, so she tries to come up with her own that won't taste like absolute shit. She is doing great, by the way, and tricks you into healthy eating with her cooking.

If you have any kind of ED, Abby will be the most supportive person ever. She will bite everyone's head off if they dare to comment on your eating habits, help you through recovery and never, ever judge you.

She doesn't like gossip, and is pretty private about her own life.

(this one is self-indulgent) If your hair needs any kind of extra care, Abby will help gladly. Brushing, braiding, hair care routines - she is there for you. She cares about her own hair and understands your struggles.

Abby is confident: not cocky confident but in a way that she knows there's nothing wrong with her and no one can tell her who she is or pretend to know her better than she knows herself. It's impossible to make her feel self-conscious.

So she really doesn't get it if you get self-conscious, especially around her: she sees you as a whole, complicated person and to her, you have nothing to be self-conscious about. It's just you, and you're perfect the way you are.

The woman of action - Abby never promises something she can't follow up on. If she tells you she will do something for you, she will no matter what.

Can't clock people for shit - for all her own confidence, she is oblivious as fuck. Has some bullshit detector built in her, but interpersonal relationships are not her strong suit. Didn't know Mel and Owen were dating for like four months, or that Manny and Nora were awkward around each other because they slept together and figured out they don't work sexually at all.

So flirt with her all you want, but she will think you're just bantering. She will flirt back shamelessly and still think it's just friendly banter. Idiot.

Combine her obliviousness and confidence and get Abby who uses her words all the time. She wants to ask you on a date? She asks, absolutely not scared of being rejected. She is straightforward as fuck and will ask whatever she wants to know.

Really appreciates if you can hold your own against her. Abby is not pushy, but she is more at peace knowing you will establish your own boundaries without fear.

She is an octopus when she sleeps. Her nose will be buried in your hair/neck to the point she will have trouble breathing, but she doesn't care. Holds you the whole night and genuinely won't let you go if you try.

Buys you flowers every week, and when you start living together, Abby starts buying house plants. Eventually your place looks like a greenhouse.

Loves gaming. Abby will seat you between her thighs and play her little games while you can nap or scroll down your phone. If she plays something with a good plot, you will watch it like a movie.

If you're into gaming too, then you'll be two nerds who fight over who gets to play some game first.

If you're a Sims 4 girlie like me - Abby buys every pack they release for you. Doesn't matter if you want it or not - she hears you watching announcements, she pre-orders it. Good luck with the Journey to Batuu pack.

+ nsfw

Abby is gentle and caring to her core. Very big on the consent, so if you find asking if she can do something annoying - too bad, because in the beginning your sex will sound like a very hot interrogation.

On the other hand, if you're into dirty talk - you're in luck. She sounds extremely hot and doesn't even know it.

She is a switch and her preference depends on her mood.

If Abby tops, she is 100% service top.

Everything you say will be weaponised and used against you.

You like how she kisses your neck? She will master it untill you start to shake just from the brush of her nose against your skin.

She is very thoughtful and goal-driven. (The goal is to have you half-delirious with pleasure)

Loves eating you out, can and will do it at every opportunity.

When Abby bottoms, she thinks she is pretty chill. In reallity she is so damn bossy, will tell you what and how to do.

If you want her to shut up and take it - your best bet is a strap. Abby turns into a whiny, sweet mess, and if she tries to talk you can always fuck her harder.

Abby is very open to trying out new things, does all the research and then nerds out to you about it. The most unsexy sex talker outside the bedroom.

The rule of thumb is: don't make her cum as long as you can, otherwise Abby will just have her orgasm and lose all her sex drive.

That's why Abby is the strong supporter of "sex is a journey, not a destination" philosophy. She likes sex for the intimacy and fun, not for the orgasms.

okay I'm stopping there otherwise I'll never finish

[galaxymagitech]

Every time I see the hacked Elmo thing again I start laughing uncontrollably.

It’s not funny. It’s horrifying, and people actually believe these things. But I can’t stop laughing.

Because someone (possibly multiple someones) hates Jews so much that they hacked Elmo over it. This is an action that benefits no one, raises no awareness, and accomplishes absolutely nothing. It isn’t even useful as some sort of fakeout because it’s just too ridiculous.

Someone is such an angry, mangled, hateful person inside them that they used their time and energy and broke laws…in order to get a children’s show character to say ���Kill all Jews” on a dying social media app inhabited by bigots.

I can understand people who are hurting, who are afraid, who lash out in anger. I can understand people who do awful things because they’ve fallen for dehumanizing propaganda or have been misled by people with power. I can understand how people will do anything they can to keep themselves safe, even hurt others. I can even understand how someone prioritizes gaining power, uncaring of who they hurt in the process. I obviously think their actions or words are awful, but I can at least have a taste of what’s going through their heads, you know? I do my very best to listen to people coming from all different perspectives so that I can see how their beliefs make sense in their own internal worlds.

This doesn’t make sense. Not in any world. Can someone really feel righteous about hacking a cartoon character’s account to advocate for killing all Jews? How can someone think this is activism or helpful in any way shape or form? How can anyone feel good about this? Is there a single thing this could accomplish?

Do they honestly think this will convince anyone of anything? Do they honestly think this will make them feel better? Do they honestly think this scares us?

This has to be someone’s fucked up idea of a joke. What else can I do but laugh at it until I start to cry?

So I’m laughing at the Elmo tweets themselves whenever I see them. What I’m not laughing at is when I see people saying Elmo is “based” for those tweets or “what if he wasn’t hacked at all?” or “maybe Elmo just finally got tired.”

Oh, it’s not surprising. It’s the same thing we’ve seen far too many times. TERFs allying themselves with evangelicals. Some of my former acquaintances allying themselves with Trump because they believed he’d protect them. Immigrants voting for Trump because he claimed he’d lower the price of eggs. Throw people a bone (a call-out of Trump, a mention of the Epstein files) and they’ll agree with anything.

That’s the scary part, to me. Not that some loser is so fucked up that they decided they wanted a Sesame Street character to scream for genocide. That part just makes me laugh. No, the scary part is that “kill all Jews” isn’t difficult for people to swallow. All it takes is the tiniest bit of sugar. Not even a teaspoon.

But it’s not like I didn’t already know that either. The hack didn’t even show us something new. It’s just utterly pointless and absurd.

And I want to be clear that I’m not choosing to post about some antisemitic idiot hacking Elmo’s X account of all things because I think it’s the most important thing to talk about. It isn’t. It really isn’t. I don’t post much about politics because it’s generally out of my wheelhouse. I’m on Tumblr to talk about how awesome Batman is and how the Doctor and the Master should kill each other erotically on TV. I’m not here to prioritize important world events and provide actionable commentary on them.

But some loser hates us enough to hack Elmo, and some other losers hate us enough to publicly agree with it. Do you get it now, how ridiculous this is? Like, yeah, we’ve got a superpower. And it isn’t horns or access to the space lasers. Apparently it’s the ability to make people suddenly lose their fucking minds. Always has been.

[preemptivejustice]

Arthur’s breath left him in a rush, as if someone had knocked the air clean out of his lungs. His eyebrows knit harshly together, his heart aching; this wasn’t right. It had been obvious from the start that this program was unfair, but seeing it like this had changed something. 

Kane’s voice was too real, cracked and full of too many things that Arthur didn’t deserve. Forgiveness, concern, care; a trust that Arthur had broken twice now, yet was still being offered to him all the same.

It hit harder than anything had, peeling up parts of Arthur’s mind. It forced him to remove whatever part of him that tried to shove away thoughts of what happened; it had been such a short amount of time, only twenty-four hours, and Kane had been treated with nothing but hatred, in such a cruel severity.

Arthur wouldn't forgive himself.

He stood still for a few moments, his hand still holding the mug. His heart was pounding in a way that only caused pain - but Kane wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t flinching, he wasn’t telling Arthur to leave - he wasn’t even sitting there silently, refusing interaction. 

He was asking if Arthur was okay. That fact broke whatever was left inside of the doctor, his legs leading him forward without even thinking. He sat down gently on the edge of the mattress, close enough to touch but not close enough to be imposing; he hadn’t said anything, still. It felt hard to find words, hard to do anything but sit there and look over the other. 

It was always hard, when he felt himself caring in this sort of way. 

“I’m fine,” he promised, first; though it felt tragically comical that Kane would feel the need to ask such a thing. “I was worried I wouldn’t see you again. “

It would have been his fault, of course. All of this was his fault - though he almost wondered if Kane simply didn’t know that. It made sense. Kane likely didn’t have enough of an understanding of the situation to connect the dots that this had happened because Arthur had broken rules. Arthur didn't want to confess as such, almost, out of fear of burning whatever bridges they had left.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, the words coming easier than they normally would thanks to the drug in his system. “For everything. What they did; it was my fault. And I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

He had seen it all, of course. He had watched every bit of what they’d done, and he’d been worthless in doing anything to stop it. He was back now, at least, and he intended to stay here - though he doubted that they had seen the last of Six. 

His breath felt stuck in his throat, at that thought. He had had his own run ins with Six, of course, but the man couldn’t do anything to him. It would have brought comfort to think about that, were it not for the glaring fact that sat nearby - anything Arthur did against Six would be taken out on Kane, now. 

The building was becoming more and more of a trap by the second. 

Arthur took another breath, trying to pull his thoughts back on track. It wasn’t typical for his mind to wander this much. 

“I brought some things that might help you feel better,” he informed, gently. “Bandages, tea - I want to look at your bruises, if that’s fine.” He wanted to get them all wrapped and taken care of; it was the absolute least he could do.

The least he should do. 

“Try to take a deep breath for me, okay?” he continued, his thoughts just now catching up to the mental state that Kane appeared to be in. “Just take a deep breath - I’m going to stay here for a little while. As long as I can, alright?”

He hoped that it brought comfort, to say as such; at the very least, he could keep Six away from Kane. He'd stay until he was asked to leave. 

The well-known hiss of his door opening is enough for Kane to snap back out of the somewhat-slumber, somewhat-trance he'd been in; Muscles stiffen and tense within seconds, a breath getting caught in his lungs, eyes remaining closed at first out of---

...Fear, it might be. Fear that the bastard security guard without a name has returned to go on with whatever he's planned this time - some more pain, some more humiliation, both of it. Kane knows, after all, that the man is beyond displeased with the fact that he did not cry, did not beg in a way he'd hoped for...

Dread sets in, settles next to said fear, causing a stomach to cramp and a heart to miss a beat. Part of Kane wants to run, another part wants to keep fighting; He's been able to hold onto himself so far, kept his emotions in check, but he knows he might not be able to do such for much longer - might fall apart instead, turning into the pretty crier which that asshole had wanted to see just a short while ago.

He swallows again, brows knitting, as the seconds pass---

...But then, something else happens; Despite his eyes being closed, Kane notices the change in brightness immediately - and that surprises him, very much so, has his eyelids flicking open, gaze needing a second to adjust to the outright comfortable glow of soft orange instead of stark white.

He does notice a figure standing there, approaching him after a little while - but it's not that security guard he's so afraid of, nor is it someone else that he hasn't really met before...

No, it's... it's Dr. Harrow. He's just existing, the softness of his voice basically drilling itself into Kane's mind, like a punch to his stomach because of how kind it is in comparison to everything else he's gone through during the last day. Hey, he says, follows it up with chamomile tea...

And Kane blinks, stares as he sits up in a slow but steady motion - eyes wide, brows lifted high, like a deer in headlights, as he takes in the sight of the one who had disappeared not too long ago, but now has come back.

He's here. Harrow is here.

Lips part, the bottom one trembling the faintest bit as Kane blinks a few more times - like he tries to make sense of this, figure out whether this whole thing is even real to begin with. Is he sleeping, perhaps? Is this a dream? Has his body finally given in, with him being unable to keep holding onto his own self...?

Kane smells it, the chamomile tea. The scent of it cuts through the sterile air like a knife, but in a good way - like a blanket curling itself around sore shoulders, a promise of something better, something nice interrupting all the bleak and unkind...

"... Harrow?" A simple ask, a name spoken out in a question, yet it comes out broken and almost a little too high-pitched as that breath leaves Kane, not-Kane, it's lungs. Like someone who cannot believe what they're seeing, overwhelmed with all the emotions that crash down onto them with the force of a tidal wave.

No anger. No hate. None of it, not even a glimpse appearing within dark brown irises.

But so, so much else instead. So much else, in fact, that it's hard to pinpoint what it might be exactly - hope, surprise, relief, anxiety, sadness, happiness, all of them combined?

"I thought...I thought--- I thought you were... I thought they would---" Kane rarely stutters, but here he is - unable to form a complete sentence, his mind racing so fast that thoughts seem to slip right through his grasp, breaths getting stuck, one after another, as unsteady hands hold onto the edge of the mattress - left and right from his thighs, fingers digging into the fabric... "I thought I would never...---" ... "..Are you... are you okay...?"

[harunovella]

I love you / I'm sorry

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ you should've known better than to go head first into a battle against wanderers after having a heated argument with your boyfriend... you should've listened to him, maybe you wouldn't be on the brink of death, beginning to see caleb one last time... | caleb x mc!reader

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ cw: blood/violence, mentioned argument, angst with a happy ending, overprotective caleb, caleb goes absolutely ape shit on the man who tries to kill you/like completely psycho and we're so here for that!, apologies, making out, no prep p in v, literal idiots in love! also... it's the future so wounds totally heal insanely fast, right? don't question it

The world around you was spinning. There was a dull ache throbbing at the back of your head, a migraine pounding through your skull. Your body was on fire, limbs heavy and unmoving. A burning sensation shot through your chest, a hiss leaving your parted lips, panting and gasping for air like a fish out of water. Debris coating the ground surrounding you, the environment in utter chaos. 

You were alone, weren’t you? Fighting off Wanderers with no back up. You’d die like this if you didn’t try to make a move—and quick . The last time you checked, before you were flung into a crumbling wall, there had been several more Wanderers you hadn’t executed. 

Fuck, you thought, squeezing your eyes shut when the searing pain in your chest came in waves. It was becoming hard to breathe. You were hurting, it was unbearable. 

There was a loud ringing in your ears, a groan rumbling in your throat as you fought to at least curl your fingers, to assure yourself you weren’t paralyzed. That you could still move some parts of your body—something, anything to let you know you weren’t truly done for. 

That was until you started violently coughing—the faint faith you had in yourself to make it out alive was growing terrifyingly slim. 

The flames burned bright and smoke filled your lungs. Your chest ached from the rough jostling of your coughing. Your blurred vision shifted from the distant figures, down to the metal pipe sticking out of your chest. A deeper panic filled your veins, eyes wide at the realization that your injury was much worse than you had believed it to be. A violent cough left you, your arm weakly shifting as your hand pressed against your mouth. Your body trembled, your muscles were beyond exhausted from all the physical exertion. A sudden wetness coated the skin exposed from your fingerless gloves. 

Blood. So much blood. Your blood. 

This wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to him . 

“I can protect myself, Caleb! I don’t need you as my shadow! ” You had shouted, blood boiling in your veins. When would he understand that you were a grown woman—an adult—a Hunter . You were trained for this, to fight and protect the people ( including yourself). “I am sick and tired of you hovering over me and treating me like a damn kid! Back off! Give me space! ”

You had argued with him, your voice much louder than his had been, but there was a fire in those violet hues of his. You didn’t care at that moment, didn’t want to hear his side—didn’t want to hear any of it. It had been a constant with him every time you were sent on a mission. If he hadn’t learned it from you, it was in some mysterious way he’d never let you know about. Caleb always managed to get what he wanted especially when it came to you.  

Sure, he was difficult when you were sent out to handle Wanderers. But when you were assigned alone on a mission? Caleb was insanely insufferable. Each and every time he had a gut feeling something was going to go wrong and you didn’t listen, you were stubborn, you were tired . You refused to hear it, you had enough. 

However, this time around? Your emotions were a mess. A part of you wanted to stay, wanted to give the mission to someone else—or at least seek help if you couldn’t take Caleb with you. But a bigger part of you felt as if it was Caleb in your mind making you think that way. It was absurd, you assumed it was the many times he had reacted in such a way that you felt subtle guilt. That you shouldn’t want to be a superhero who could do it all. 

It was why you stormed out, shoved him with a burst of your Evol the moment he caught your hand—and his reaction was something akin to a slap on the face. There was a moment of regret when you saw that look in his eyes, but you turned away with all your anger and didn’t look back. 

Now you were on that said mission, hunched with tears slipping down your cheeks that you couldn’t control, hating how everything turned out. Disappointed in yourself for being so hardheaded, for not trusting the one person who only ever wanted and did what was best for you. You wished he was there with you, you wished he’d say I told you so and take you away from it all… even if you knew he never would. As much as Caleb can be a lot to handle, he always had the best intentions for you—he was always there for you when you needed him most. 

He could’ve been if you hadn’t overreacted the way you had. 

A sudden rumbling in the earth had you whimpering, the jolt causing the wound to throb even further. You squeezed your eyes shut, fearing it was the Wanderers growing closer, that they’d be the ones to end you if your injury hadn’t. 

“Tsk, look at you,” a voice spoke up, your eyes falling open. You nearly forgot there was another problem in the mix. Another human who wanted you dead. A wicked grin was displayed on his lips as he lifted his foot and pressed it against your chest, pushing you further into the rod as a painful scream left your clenched teeth, blood not only seeping from the wound, but your mouth, too. “Foolish girl…” the faceless man shook his head and clicked his tongue. You were in such a poor state you couldn’t even make out the man’s identity. The adrenaline rush you had prior was enough to push you through. Your blinding rage had done its job, preventing you from seeing the real threat. “You made this too easy. I truly thought it was going to be much harder to take you down, but seeing as your mind isn’t all here and you’re clearly worked up about something… you saved me some time.”

“Fuck… you…” you seethed, but he only snickered at your enthusiasm. 

“Right, well, it looks like I’m not the one on my death bed,” he sighed as you glared at him. “You truly would’ve been so much help but you’re too big of a threat to us all.” Pushing his foot against you once again, you cried out, using what little strength you had left to clasp onto his ankle and try to push him away. 

“S— Stop!” You sobbed, feeling his foot fall from you before he shifted himself. A familiar sound of uncertainty filled the air as he pulled out his handgun, removing the safety and aiming it.

“I could let you have a slow death, but I’m feeling a bit generous. If it isn’t the Wanderers, or your wound, I’d happily take you out,” he nodded as your eyes widened, the weapon pointed directly at your forehead, the cold metal kissing your skin in warning. “Why don’t you say hello to the devil for me, Little Miss Hunter?”

Suddenly, the world was moving painfully slow. It was equally as comforting as it was worrisome. You wondered if it was the universe being kind, or cruel, to let you enjoy your last few seconds of life. To think about all that you had achieved and experienced in this lifetime. From what you were grateful for… to your regrets. 

To think about all you had lost and gained back, only to have your final moments with the one man you loved filled with animosity. 

Caleb… you closed your eyes, wishing you had one more moment with him. One more chance to apologize and to be held in his arms, to feel the safety of his embrace…

And yet, when the trigger was pulled, death never came. 

Your eyes fell open with the sudden change in pressure, the sight of your threat holding his gun in an unnatural angle had you gasping in disbelief. Horror etched across his face as his wrist was completely twisted, hand facing the opposite direction in a way it shouldn’t have. 

An immediate sensation tingled throughout your body that you recognized. Gravity . It was all consuming. Deep and heavy and unforgiving. 

“How about you greet him yourself?” That hauntingly familiar voice spoke up. You knew it all too well. It was bone chilling. It was beautiful . A small whimper of relief left you the moment Caleb stepped into your line of vision. 

His fists were tight and the air was filled with the older man’s screams of pain. His legs were caving in, his body being crushed in until all his limbs fell limp. It was then you realized: all the Wanderers had been obliterated. 

When did that happen? 

Your faltering focus settled back on Caleb, the pure rage in his eyes as he grabbed the man by the collar, “I should fucking kill you,” he seethed, “pull you apart, tear you into pieces, limb by limb.” His chest heaved as his fury burned through every cell of his being, deep in his soul. “A slow, painful death, one in which you’d be begging for the devil to crawl out of hell and take you away from my hands.” Tightening his grip on the man’s collar, Caleb’s voice lowered into an almost growl. “You laid your filthy hands on her. Tell me, what exactly did you do? What did you do to her so I can make sure you feel it— tenfold .”

“Wha—?!” The man choked out, words cut off by Caleb’s hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing . 

“Don’t be a fucking coward now,” he hissed, eyes burning bright with flames from hell. “You were about to kill a woman. My woman,” a twisted grin grew on his lips. “And now? Now you’re pathetically weeping, begging for your life. Why’s that?”

“Let— Let me— go!” 

Tilting his head, Caleb tightened his grip, watching as the man’s face flushed red. “Are you refusing to comply? I’d happily pull out your teeth and nails, one by one, cut out your tongue and force feed it to you.”

“You— You psycho!” The man panicked as you watched with a hint of horror. Not once had you seen this side of your other half. A darkness that surrounded his usually bright soul, one you never knew he could possess. “You—“

“Oh,” Caleb laughed, “you don’t know half of what I can become when it comes to vile men like you who almost kill my girl.”

“You— Crazy—!” He cried out, twitching in a way he hoped would free him from the threat before him. 

“I should’ve kept those abominations alive and fed your limbs to them, make you watch as you die a slow death,” Caleb bared his teeth like a ravenous wolf that was about to slaughter its prey. 

Your savior’s words were distant to you now, your focus so fuzzy you hardly picked up on what he was saying. The man who nearly killed you shifted his eyes to you, then back to Caleb before struggling to speak, words that would never reach your ears. All you kept thinking about was staying alive, that you had to push, keep your conscious no matter what. You needed to see this through. Needed to utter two or three more words to Caleb if this were your end. Your eyes were so heavy, slept alluded to you… but you had to press on. Just a little more. 

“She— must not know— just how fucked up— you really are—!”

Smiling once more, Caleb chuckled, “oh, she’s well aware of the lengths I’d go to keep her safe.”

“Your protection— borderlines obsession— and possessive—“ 

He heard that line before. 

Before the man could finish, Caleb dropped the man’s limp body and used his Evol to snatch the gun that nearly killed you. Without any hesitation, no mercy given, Caleb pulled the trigger several times in his chest. Shoving the barrel into his mouth, Caleb leaned and whispered, “say hello to the devil for me.” Firing the last round, he watched with a tight jaw as the man fell completely still.  He didn’t flinch, not as blood splattered onto him, staining his skin and clothing. He felt nothing. No remorse, no regrets. 

He had it coming and Caleb happily filled his prophecy. 

Taking in several deep breaths, he stood up and tossed the heated gun before turning towards you. His wrath morphed into fear at the sight of your blood on your chin and chest. Coating your fingertips. Rushing towards you and falling to his knees, he cupped your face, “stay with me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes were so heavy, it took so much out of you to keep your focus on him, blurring vision making it difficult to see. “Cal—“

“Shh, don’t speak, don’t move. I’ve got you. You’re safe now,” he softly spoke, wiping your tears as he looked at you with a pained expression—as if he felt your suffering. 

“I’m— I’m sorry,” you frowned, eyes fighting to stay open, blood drying on your chin. 

Shaking his head, he kissed your forehead, “stop, I said don’t speak.” Seeing you pout, he huffed, “let’s get you out of here.” Moving his hands to your biceps as he eyed the rod in your chest, he took in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.” Pulling you off of it, your screams of agony rang in his ears as he bit his tongue. He was quick to use his Evol to put pressure against the gaping wound as he lifted your now unconscious body in his arms. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You woke up with an ache in your chest, your body flinching in fear. Had you not escaped? Were you still pressed against that crumbling wall? Was the metal rod still pierced through your chest? 

Were you about to die?

You feared you never truly escaped—that Caleb never came to your rescue. That it was all your imagination. 

You took in deep breaths, eyes fluttering open as you took in your environment. There was no rubble, no fires nor any smoke in the air. No Wanderers. No man holding a gun to your head. Just you… and the pristine, white walls… of a hospital room. Swallowing, you cringed at the dryness of your throat. You tried to speak, but your voice was almost nonexistent. You tried to move, but it felt like there was a heavy weight pinning you down. 

Stretching your fingers, your eyebrows furrowed at the realization that there was pressure against your hand. Looking over, a small gasp left you as your heart skipped a beat. Caleb was fast asleep, his hand clinging onto yours, even while unconscious—his head was resting on his folded arm, body hunched over and resting against the cot you lied on. You wondered how long it had been since you were hospitalized… How long he had stayed there, by your side?

A sudden flashback of your argument had you flinching, your free hand moving to rub against your forehead. 

There was a sudden movement beside you. “You’re awake,” Caleb gasped before he immediately stood up, suddenly feeling a head rush at the movement, wincing at the sensation. 

Gulping, you opened your mouth to speak, but only coughed. 

“Right,” reaching for a cup of water—one he had poured prior to falling asleep for himself—he pressed it to your lips and helped you as you chugged away. 

He still was holding onto your hand, as if afraid to let go. Afraid that you might slip away. “ Thank you ,” you whispered as he nodded, settling the empty cup down. 

“You were out for a couple of days… I stayed by your side the whole time. I was afraid—“ gulping, he cleared his throat as he looked away from your tired eyes. “Dr. Zayne took charge of everything… He wanted to make sure you were okay and came out of this good as new.”

It wasn’t until then that you got a good look at Caleb. Dark circles decorated his eyes, his hair was in disarray—pointed in multiple directions as if he hadn’t run a comb through it. You wondered if he had eaten or showered during the time you were unconscious. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he weakly smiled. “That rod just barely missed your heart… You could’ve—“ cutting himself off again as he looked down for a moment, your eyes shifted elsewhere, feeling them sting with fresh tears. It was then you noticed his clothing was sticking out of the hazardous bin, blood staining the material. He had killed that man because he almost killed you . 

He came for you. He saved you. After all that was said and done… he still kept his word. 

Tears began to pour down your cheeks as your bottom lip quivered. Caleb’s eyes shot up at the feeling of your trembling, gasping, “are you in pain? Let me get a nurse—“

Tugging on his hand and bringing him down to your level, stopping him from leaving, Caleb stumbled forward and caught himself. His body crowded your space, his free hand catching him before he could collapse against you. Heavy breaths left his parted lips as he looked down at you, noses touching. 

Freeing your hand from his, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. Caleb’s eyes widened, heart racing as your own pair fell closed. You were weakly clinging onto him, crying into the kiss as he tasted your tears. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry— I’m so sorry,” you whimpered against his lips. 

“No, baby, stop—“

“I should’ve never snapped at you! I should’ve never… I should’ve never used my Evol against you the way I did. I’m so sorry, Caleb,” you cried. 

“Pips, please… I’m not mad at you,” Caleb sat beside you and cupped your face, feeling you lean into his touch as his thumbs wiped away your tears. 

“But—“

“I can be… overbearing,” Caleb sighed, “and too hovering, I know it. I can’t help it. You mean so damn much to me. You don’t understand, I'd do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe,” he confessed as he looked you deeply in the eyes, caressing your cheek before continuing. “I know you’ve grown up, I know you’re not that little pipsqueak anymore… I know you’re a Hunter, that you can fight and protect yourself, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying. That doesn’t change the way I feel when it comes to your safety and wellbeing. It doesn’t change the need to be by your side—“

“I should’ve listened,” you whispered, “I wouldn’t be here if—“

“ Stop ,” Caleb shakes his head, hands lowering from your cheeks to your jaw, “no matter how mad you are, I will always find you and I will always be there for you,” he then softly spoke your name.  “And I will always save you even when you think you don’t need me to.”

“Caleb…” trying to stop the increase in tears that seemed to have no end, the man before you gave you a soft smile

“I can’t lose you… not now, not ever,” wiping your tears, he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. 

“I’m—“ 

“That’s enough, my love,” lifting his head to eye you, he kissed underneath both of your eyes, “you’re so pretty, even when you cry.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, your cheeks began to heat up, not only by the compliment, but by the way he looked at you. As if it was just you… You and only you. No one else in this world could ever have his attention, his love… his heart. It would always be you. 

Leaning in and pressing a kiss on the tip of your nose, he then nuzzled his own into your cheek, “so beautiful…”

“ Caleb… ” you nearly whispered, but his lips found yours and stole your breath. What started off sweet morphed into that of desperation and need. So full of passion and unconditional love. 

Until you heard the door opening. 

“Oh, sorry!” The nurse exclaimed as you had pushed Caleb away, nearly knocking him off of the bed. She chuckled as she watched you wipe your mouth and look away with a deep blush on your cheeks. “It’s good to see you’re awake. I just want to do some checkups to make sure everything is good and that way we can discharge you sooner.”

Nodding, you felt a pair of eyes on you, looking over to see Caleb had been gazing at you the entire time. You shook your head and turned your attention back to the nurse, shivering at the sensation he had been giving you without even touching you. 

He was so shameless. 

You loved that about him. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

“Alright, let’s take it easy,” Caleb said as you entered your home. A gentle, yet protective hand had rested on your lower back since you arrived at your apartment building. He stayed close to you the entire time, from the moment you were discharged, up until you curled up on your couch. You were exhausted, even after all the resting you had done. 

Caleb momentarily left you with a kiss on your forehead before he made his way to your kitchen. You hadn’t had a proper meal in a while and he wanted to cook up something without you asking. 

The guilt still ate at you, but you were too drained to even utter yet another series of apologies. It would be useless, anyways. Caleb would silence you before you even let out a single syllable. 

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, not expecting to actually fall asleep. It wasn’t until the image of a man pulling the trigger of a gun aimed at your head had you jolting awake—followed by a soft call of your name. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, but Caleb gave you a look that demanded you speak the truth. “I just… I saw that man actually pulling the trigger.”

Letting out a deep breath through his nose, he shook his head, “he’s gone and you’re safe, that’s all the matters now.” Cupping your face and caressing the apple of your cheek with his thumb, you nodded, leaning into his touch. The furrow of his brow softened before he leaned in and left a kiss on your other cheek. “Let’s get your mind off of things, I made you your favorites.” Taking your hand in his, Caleb helped you to your feet before guiding you to your dinner table. He pulled out a seat, a small thank you just about leaving your lips until he took the seat instead. Narrowing your eyes, Caleb looked up at you with a faint grin. “C’mon,” he patted his thigh, your eyebrows lifting at his suggestion. “I don’t want you to move your arm too much.”

Sighing with a soft chuckle, you nodded before taking your spot on his lap. “You gonna spoon feed me?” You asked as you watched him serve a plate to share with you.

“Duh ,” he winked with a grin as you couldn’t help but reciprocate with a smile of your own. Securing you against him as an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close, Caleb was true to your word. He fed you more bites than he took, and before you could even suggest for him to eat more, he gave you an offended look—as if questioning putting you over himself was offensive.

With stomachs full, satisfied with your first meal in days, Caleb left you back on the couch once more as he cleaned up. He made sure you didn’t move a muscle, not when he was able to handle simple chores to avoid messing with your healing wound. You patiently watched him clean up the kitchen and dinner table with a longing gaze. It always made your heart flutter watching him be so domestic, you weren’t sure as to why. How thorough he was, how he never complained when doing things that society normally labeled as a woman’s job. He just loved making your life easier, especially if it meant letting you sit to a side and relax.

Once he was done, and the kitchen was spotless, Caleb made his way back to you and lifted you in his arms, settling a kiss at the top of your head and mentioning sharing a bath. You simply nodded as you leaned into him, breathing in his scent as he brought you into your bathroom. Settling you on your vanity, Caleb maneuvered around your bathroom, setting up a nice, warm bath for the two of you as he shared small talk with you. He spoke about little things, interactions with coworkers, animal encounters while out for a morning run, recipes he studied to try out for future dinners… You listened intently as you watched him with a heavy heart. You bit back the sour taste of regret in your mouth as it resurfaced, shaking the thoughts away before you could even let them be written across your face. 

Instead, you let him undress you, stripping the both of you down to your bare bodies. Caleb was gentle when it came to you, not wanting to shift you around too much when it came to removing your clothes. 

The bath didn’t last too long, it was Caleb’s only intention to make sure you were clean and felt at ease, even if moments in the tub tended to lead to more… However, at the moment, he couldn’t even consider being intimate when he was far too worried about your healing wound. He helped clean you up and wash your hair, letting you relax in the warm water to ease your tense muscles before stepping out. Drying you up and dressing you, then himself, he made sure to blowdry your hair. You shared your nightly routine at a slower pace this time before making it to bed. 

Cuddled up against him under your bedsheets, Caleb ran his lengthy fingers through your hair. He left small kisses at the top of your head, discreetly sniffing a few times when he thought you couldn’t hear him (you definitely had).

Watching one of your shared favorite shows, your eyes lingered to your rack of clothes, Caleb’s mixed in the midst. You thought about the clothes he had to toss out that were covered in the man’s blood. “Caleb…” You spoke up, earning a hum from him. You turned your head towards him, shifting yourself enough to kiss his cheek, then neck. 

“Whao, what’re you doing, pips?” He asked as you continued to leave a trail of gentle kisses down his neck and onto his exposed chest. His skin flourished with heat, a bright shade of red appearing from your ministrations. “Please… be careful, I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Shaking your head, you carefully sat up and cupped his face, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips. “You saved my life.”

“You know I always will,” Caleb breathed. 

“You killed that man,” you whispered. “You killed those Wanderers. Nothing was left alive…” 

Eyeing you, studying the look of desire on your face, Caleb swallowed. His heart started to race. He knew that expression too well. “They were a threat…” he responded in a low voice, one that had you shivering. “I did what had to be done.”

Humming, your fingertips traced his jawline. “You could’ve turned that man in, but you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” he shook his head. “I couldn’t… He almost killed you.”

Gazing down at him from the violet hues in his eyes, to the subtle freckles on his skin, you caressed his cheek, “I know… Thank you.” Leaning in, you kissed him again, lips soft against his own. “My hero.”

“Sweet— Sweetheart,” Caleb choked out as you straddled his hips. “You… We should get some rest.”

“I slept enough,” you whispered, palms pressed to his chest as you gazed down at him “Let me show you how sorry I am—”

“Please, stop apologizing, I told you that I understood and I will never hold it against you,” he said with furrowed brows, hands gripping your waist as you shook your head.

“Then let me show you how grateful I am that you saved my life.” Leaning in to kiss him, Caleb’s fingertips dug into your skin. What started off sweet turned into something passionate. Your tongue pushed past the seam of his lips to find his own. A low groan rumbled in Caleb’s chest as you explored his mouth. Your hand moved up into his hair, combing through it before gently tugging as he bucked his hips up into you. A small chuckle left you as your lips couldn’t seem to pull away from his own, kissing him until your mouths were numb and swollen.

Pulling away, a string of spit connected the two of you, snapping moments later. The both of you were breathless, panting as you ogled one another. “Are you sure about this?” Caleb breathed. “I just—”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “I want this… I want you… so bad.” The breathy sound of your voice was enough to make Caleb choke on a whine. You giggled at the muffled sound. “Silly boy,” you shook your head as he frowned. He looked cute, the way his cheeks stained red, how his bottom lip jutted out. You couldn’t help but lean in and suck on it for a moment, nibbling on the plumpness of it before pulling away. 

Caleb watched with hooded eyes as you reached for the hem of your— his —shirt and pulled it off of you. You let out a small whimper from the sudden jolt of pain, but lifted a hand to stop your lover from shifting to help you. “Babe—”

“Like I said, I’m fine,” you nodded before dropping the shirt to the side, exposing your bare breasts to him. “I just need to feel you, Caleb. All of you,” you breathed as he gulped.

“You have me, sweetheart…” he responded, moving his hands down to your bare thighs, giving them a small squeeze. “Mind, body, and soul. You have all of me. I’m all yours.”

Smiling down at him, you reached up to brush your thumb across his bottom lip, leaning in to kiss him again. A shiver ran down your spine as you bare chest pressed against his, perked nipples rubbing against him and earning a moan from you. Grinding yourself against him, with only your panties and his underwear in the way, you let out a small whine when you felt his semi-hard length against your throbbing clit. “Need you…” you whimpered. “Need you so bad…” 

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” he chanted into the kiss, hands gliding across your skin, caressing your ass before digging his fingertips into your flesh. “All yours, I belong to you…”

You rubbed yourself against him again and again, parted lips pressed against his as you breathed into one another. Small whimpers and cries of pleasure filled the air as the two of you got off to the simple movements of your hips. Caleb’s own twitched, constantly thrusting up to meet yours with every circle of your own. He swore he could come just like that—he had several times before, anyway. He wasn’t new to creaming his underwear, not when it came to being in a relationship with you—his dream woman. From your little touches, to your stolen kisses, it was enough for him to get off on. Hell, there’d been several instances where he reached his peak without even trying. All he had to do was watch you, the way your eyes rolled back when your orgasm came crashing down. He was done for each and every time. He ate your pussy? He’s humping against the bed, the taste of your release, and the sound of your cries had him coming. He made out with you in his personal aircraft? His pants had a dark stain on his crotch.  You were completely naked after showering, in the midst of getting dressed? He didn’t even have to lift a finger to feel his underwear grow wet. 

It was embarrassing how easy he got off when it came to you. He was ashamed, he talked a lot of smack and gave off such an in control vibe that all of that was null and void when you were in his line of vision. You, however, absolutely loved how Caleb became putty in your hands. It was the best way to shut him up when he thought he was in charge. 

But now? Now it wasn’t about putting him in place or teasing him just because you enjoyed seeing him fall apart from how horny he was. It was about him knowing just how much you loved and appreciated him for the man he is. 

“Caleb,” you moaned into the kiss. “Need you, please… ” kissing the corner of his lips as his chest heaved, Caleb lazily nodded. 

“Okay, okay, for you… for you,” he breathed, reaching down to shove his boxers down just enough to free himself. Lifting your hips, he tugged your panties to a side before aligning himself with you. 

Inch by inch, Caleb helped you lower yourself onto him. No prep, you were already soaking wet. One of your hands clung onto his, fingers interlaced as you panted against one another. “God,” you breathed as your hips met his, Caleb’s cock now fully sheathed in you. Your shared breathing was heavy, your eyes squeezed shut as you adjusted to his size. No matter how many times you two shared moments like these, it almost always felt like the first time. 

“Please— Please move,” he begged, swallowing hard as his free hand squeezed your hip. “Please, please —“

“You’re so… needy,” you huffed as you lifted your hips, then lowered them, rocking against him at a steady rate. Your chest was still pressed against his, unable to pull away. You needed to feel him against you—all over you. Every inch of him touching every inch of you. 

His arm moved to wrap around your waist, securing you against him as he met your thrusts with his own. Your bed began to creak, shifting with your shared weight and movements. His grip on your hand was tight. His eyes rolled back as he bit his bottom lip in absolute ecstasy. Your mouth smothered his face with kisses, nipping at the skin underneath his ear and leaving bite marks in your wake. 

Caleb’s feet pressed against your mattress, fucking into you as you moaned and cried out his name. “So good t’ me,” he breathed. “My best girl…”

“Caleb ,” you moaned, feeling his hand slip from yours as he reached for your hips, clinging onto you and guiding you to fuck yourself on his length. “Caleb!”

“So close— So close,” he whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as his eyebrows scrunched up. “Baby… I’m so close— I’m— Please, let me come inside, let me come inside… tell me you’d let me.”

“Anything… Anything for you,” you whispered, face nuzzled into the space between his neck and shoulder. “Use me… This is my gift to you… for being my hero.”

“Fuck ,” Caleb whined. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” Throwing his head back and biting down, exposing his neck to you, you squealed as he slammed his hips up into you, keeping you against him as he came, filling you to the brim with his release. You watched as his face flourished with heat, his lips parted as he let out breathy whimpers and moans from reaching his high. You kissed the column of his neck with a smile, nipping along the way and leaving your mark behind. His hips rocked once more to stuff you deep with his seed as you chased your own high. “Come for me, baby… Please… Do that f’ me…”

“So close,” you breathed, feeling his arms protectively wrap around you, turning you over and lifting himself enough to not crush you under his weight—still mindful of your healing wound. “Caleb!” You cried out as he rammed into you, not only fucking his come back in you, but reaching between you body and toying with your pearl. 

“Come— Come for me, I know you can, you’re so close,” he panted as he watched the way your face contorted. How your back arched as you clung onto his forearms. Your legs wrapped around his slim waist as you cried out in relief, coming and screaming his name. “That’s it… That's my good girl. such a good girl… My perfect girl…” Brushing your hair from your face as sweat coated your skin, Caleb leaned in and kissed your forehead, nose and chin, then your lips. Sweet and everlasting as he cupped your face. “So proud of you… Dunno what I’d do without you. You’re my everything. Everything and more,” he mumbled against your skin, nuzzling your nose with his. 

Cupping his cheeks, you gazed up at him. “I love you so much,” you whispered, trying to catch your breath. “So much… My hero, my saving grace. My Caleb.”

Grinning, his body nearly collapsed against your own, keeping himself buried within you as he held himself up by his forearms. With his forehead pressed against yours, he longingly and lovingly looked deeply into your eyes. “I love more than you could ever fathom, my beloved. No matter what happens to us or the universe, my heart belongs to you for all eternity.”

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ I fell down the rabbit hole of writing lads especially after the latest wedding event... I have a few drafted but this one shot was to test the waters :x also I'm obsessed with caleb, I didn't think I would be, I'm such a (and still am!) a sylus girlie but here we are!!!

[svinz55]

for the team

PAIRING; carlos sainz x fem!reader SYNOPSIS; classic carlos, always fucking with you. on track, you don’t let it slide. ever. however, off-track your fellow ferrari teammate always seems to get the better of you. WARNINGS; smut, cursing, alcohol mentioned, smoking, p in v, unprotected WORD COUNT; 1.8k NOTE; first time publishing smut 🙈🙈 hope u like it!! comment if u wanna be added to the tag list! if you have any requests pls feel free to hmu <3 sorry if this doesnt make sense, not proofread. also in case it wasnt clear you drive for ferrari with carlos – sorry charles

It was so typical of Carlos to screw with you. Ever since the first day as teammates, you two had despised each other. Of course, the SF-24 was a shit car to drive most of the time, but it didn’t make it any easier that your teammate drove like he’d never been behind a wheel before.

You went on the radio with your engineer. “Tell Sainz that if he doesn’t get his shit together he’s gonna fuck us both out of points.”

Your engineer replied back hesitantly. “Do you want us to repeat exactly that? Like exactly–”

“Yes,” you snapped. “Exactly that. Don’t leave a word out, understand?”

“Copy.”

A few seconds ticked by in silence. You were just trying to hold onto P3 like a lifeline. Carlos was in P4 and he had been given orders to hold off George in P5 and prevent him from overtaking the two of you. 

Finally, your engineer returned. “He told you to mind your own business and try for P2.” 

You didn’t say anything back, irritated.

You ended up securing P2, Carlos in P3. It was an absolute Ferrari masterclass. The two of you stood on the podium with Max Verstappen between you, the race winner. The podium celebration began. You made eye contact with Carlos, an irritated glare in your eyes. He glared back, his jaw set.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You stood in some club wearing a short mini dress and heels. You were chatting away with a few of your friends, martini in hand and cigarette in the other. Your eyes flit around from person to person. That was when you spotted Carlos. Taking a drag off your cigarette, you watched him intently, observing him. The way his hair fell perfectly, the way his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, the way he looked tan and radiant, the way he had a relaxed smirk on his face as a very drunk Lando told him something. 

Then Carlos glanced over at you, the two of you making eye contact. His relaxed smirk disappeared as his jaw clenched. He paused Lando for a moment before pushing through the crowd to get to you. You said a quick goodbye to your friends and put your drink down before speeding out as fast as you could on your stilettos. 

The second the warm night air hit you, you continued to the curb, hailing down a taxi.

Carlos was quicker. He followed your faint trail of smoke like a hunter to prey. As he saw you slip into that yellow taxi, he sped up and grabbed the door just before it shut, sliding in.

“Carlos, what the fuck?” you exclaimed, shock written all over your face. He felt slightly pleased with your shock. You turned to the taxi driver and gave him the address of the hotel everyone was staying at.

“Ma’am,” the taxi driver said, “no cigarettes.”

“What if I give you an extra twenty bucks?” you offered. He nodded and you took a drag. You returned your attention back to Carlos. “Now, may I ask why you hurled yourself into my taxi, Sainz?”

“You may,” he quipped back, leaning on the door and manspreading with one arm resting up on top of the backseat. “Wanna tell me what the fuck had your panties in a bunch earlier?”

“You mean when you drove like you’d never driven a car and then acted like a dickhead about it?” you retorted with a drag. “First of all, don’t talk about my panties–”

“Can’t promise that.”

You ignored that comment pointedly. “–and second of all, you don’t ever consider anyone but yourself when you’re on the track. When you’re off-track too. But on the track it’s so frustrating. You make being your teammate so difficult, good lord, Carlos.”

Carlos didn’t reply. He just watched you as you rambled on about how irritating he was, taking occasional angry drags, your cheeks hollowing and your eyes shutting as you did so. When you did little things like that, he couldn’t deny how turned on he got. When his eyes flicked unabashedly down to glance at your smooth legs, when you would toss your hair out of your face, when you’d glare at him, when he saw the lipstick stains on your cigarette. All of it. His need went straight to his cock. 

The two of you reached the hotel. You were still complaining about him as he put his hand on the small of your back and guided you towards the elevators.

He leaned against the elevator, his arms crossed as he watched you almost mockingly. His muscular arms. God, you almost drooled. 

“Are you done yet, baby?” he asked, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. You were fighting a losing battle.

You clenched your jaw, trying to maintain some control. “Yes. I’m done.”

Carlos uncrossed his arms and reached out for you, sliding his hand to the back of your neck as he pulled you into his chest. Before you could even protest, his mouth was on yours in a hungry kiss. You were shocked at first but then kissed him back fervently, your cigarette falling to the ground. His hands were in your arm and your arms were around his neck.

The elevator opened and he hoisted you up with ease so your legs were around his waist. He walked you to his hotel room, his mouth hot against yours. It was all the pent up adrenaline and desperation. He only pulled his mouth from yours when he had to fumble for his keycard. One hand in his pockets, searching, and the other gripping your ass to keep you up.

You grabbed him by the hair and forced him to look up at you. His eyes were dark and hooded, his chest was heaving, his face had your lipstick marks, and his lips were swollen. He let out a soft noise when you grabbed him. You knew you were a goner.

“Fuck,” you murmured. 

He grabbed his keycard and fumbled with it against the door. It clicked and he swung the door open before slamming it shut just as quickly. He let you slide down his body. You kicked off your heels.

Grabbing him by the belt, you dragged him to the bed until you fell back, pulling him on top of you.

“Wish you were this good f’me on the track,” he muttered as he slid his hands behind you and unzipped your dress. “Lift.” You arched your back so he could slide your dress off you. You were in just your panties now. 

His head fell back slightly as he groaned before lowering himself down onto you. “Such pretty tits.” He kissed roughly from your neck all the way down to one tit. You could practically feel the marks he left in his wake. He grabbed your other tit as he sucked down on the one. You whimpered and squirmed beneath him. He did the same to the other.

“You’re so desperate,” you hissed through whines. He let out a bark of laughter against your body.

“‘Course I am,” he replied as he leaned back and unbuttoned his shirt before then undoing his belt buckle and zipper as he spoke. “The only thing that keeps me sane when you start bitching at me is imagining you on your knees as I fuck your face. Makes me so hard.”

You glared at him. “You don’t.”

“On my life, I do,” he replied back easily. He looked down at you lazily as he tossed his clothes aside. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Are you gonna be a brat in bed too? Or are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You narrowed your eyes up at him. He just smirked with a shake of his head.

“Brat it is, I guess,” he said with a shrug. He hooked his fingers in your panties and tugged them down to your ankles. He ran a finger through your slick folds. He smirked. “C’mon, really? All this attitude yet you’re dripping for me.”

You couldn’t help but let your eyes rake over his gorgeous body. He looked like he was carved from stone. 

“Don’t act all high and mighty,” you snapped. “I can see how hard you are.”

He grinned. Stupid shit-eating grin. “Fuck yeah I am. Baby, I watched you the whole night. That little dress of yours, the way your ass looked, the heels, the way those nice tits of yours sat the whole night. Mm. The way you smoked that cigarette. The way your legs looked in that dress. I kept looking at your thighs, wishing they were around my head. I need you, cariño. I’m proud of it.”

You were leaking at this point, clamping your legs shut. He put his big calloused hands on your knees and separated your legs.

“C’mon, can’t pound into you if your legs are shut, can I, mi chica bonita?” he said with a devilish look on his face. 

“Fuck you.”

“Promise?”

You rolled your eyes. He was too smooth for his own good. He slid his boxers down and his red, leaking cock sprung free. Your mouth fell agape. There was no way he’d fit. He’d break you. 

He saw you looking, horrified, and he smiled smugly. As if reading your thoughts, he leaned down and whispered in your ear. “You’re gonna take it, understand?”

You just nodded dumbly. This provoked him more, his smirk growing.

“Yeah, ‘s my good girl,” he said as he gently ran his tip through your folds. “Such a nice pussy. Makes me hungry. Can you blame me?”

You let out a hum as he ran his tip over your cunt. Just when you were gonna prepare yourself, he began to feed it in. Slowly, gently. His head lolled back as he muttered a slew of things in Spanish you didn’t quite catch. Your breath hitched and you moaned.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “You’re doing so fucking good for me, pretty girl.” He coaxed you just enough until he began to slowly increase speed and force.

You were moaning, loud and high-pitched. He was groaning with his eyes shut as he put a hand around your throat, the other toying with your clit. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

“C’mon,” he grunted. “Take it. Take it for me. Good girl. You like that? Getting fucked like this? Being praised by your teammate? Your cunt is so perfect. All of you is so perfect. I could keep fucking you forever, mi vida.” He felt your pussy contracting and he moaned. “You’re so close. I’m so close. Jesus.”

The two of you came hard in unison. He was groaning loudly and you were moaning as you milked his cock. He kept your softening cock in your tight, creamy hole as he kissed your neck.

“You did so good for me,” he whispered in your ear.

You smiled slightly as you tangled your hands in his hair. “It’s team bonding.”

He laughed against your skin before echoing you. “Team bonding, right. We should team bond some more. Just… for the team, you know?”

You laughed softly as he nipped at your jaw. “Uh huh. For the team.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[togglesbloggle]

Man and Superman

So my Tumblr notes are currently dominated by this thing, which is, you know, very cute and everyone's being very nice and the usual amount of weird about it. Everyone keeps wanting to steal it for their fanfics (yes, you can, feel free and do not be ashamed), a truly alarming number of people have cried at the club (none of you people are at the club, you're all liars), eighteen separate people have warned me to get him a mouthguard (working on it).

It's a small thing, but- a little while ago, I noticed offhandedly that I hadn't mentioned my gender in it. Ritter's gender is explicit, but I speak only in the first person. "Toggle" isn't a traditionally gendered sort of name either, unless you count the freudian implications. The icon's technically a male portrait, but only if you're real good at squinting and even then those aren't terribly diagnostic. So anyway, the post hit escape velocity without my gender being particularly along for the ride, and people had to interpret it accordingly.

As of this writing, the husbandposting has gotten a bit north of 25K notes. I know with confidence that its path has taken it through trad tumblr, catholic tumblr, it's at least skirted the edge of radfem trumblr, and any number of other places. And not once has anybody made any particular assumptions about what my gender is. They don't wonder out loud, either. Nobody has assumed that I must be a woman because I am in bed next to a man, or that I am a man for that matter; nobody treats my gender as a puzzle that they have to solve before they know how to feel about the post, at least not where I can see in the notes.

People (the younger ones, anyway) have this superpower nowadays: the power to appreciate a romantic situation without filtering it through sexed lenses in any particular way. They don't know it's a superpower, because it's so obvious to them, but it very much is- back in the 90s and early 00s, almost none of us had it. I know I didn't, though I've since discovered the capacity. If this kind of thing was printed in the newspaper back then, I guarantee you that the median reader would absolutely, 100%, be assuming I was a woman, and feel wrong-footed and disoriented if they found out otherwise.

There's something instructive in that. We don't get to choose our children's ideology; even the thousand-year reign of the Morally Correct Imperium must eventually confront year one thousand and one. Those descendants may well despise us, may have values we find abhorrent or pathetic, and may well see us the same way. If that's true, then, whence progress? It's tempting to think of social progress as the march of a particular ideology, but no mere moral imperative will ever march into the future unaltered.

But sometimes, something real does change. Sometimes, people get superpowers. Which is to say, tools, useful and unilaterally better ways of seeing the world. 25,000 people correctly navigated the ambiguity of my husbandposting without making strong assumptions about its author; they were better at reading than their parents would have been, a strict improvement regardless of the moral values involved.

At its best and most real, social progress rhymes with technological progress- breaking free of the aimless cyclicity of history not by imposing a particular way of thinking, but by expanding the space of what can be conceived. Sure, there are predictable consequences to the existence of a superpower- once it's easy to appreciate romantic joy without anchoring it in a baseless assumption of heterosexuality, there are certain moral values and ethical policies that follow- but this is merely a knock-on effect.

The core of it, the thing that makes it persist through time without effort by some authority, is simply that it is more deeply entangled with reality than the alternative. It catches a little bit more of the Dao's subtlety, makes each of us a little bit more free- more capable of understanding our own corner of the world and expressing our own values, whatever those may be.

[shizuu-chann]

Replaying DA: Veilguard, I've seen a couple posts and articles with comments underneath recently discussing the "failure" of the game. There were several people on Reddit, surprisingly, who mentioned they waited a while to play Veilguard and they're genuinely shocked at the hate it got. Yes, there are valid criticisms to be had, but as a general rule it's a pretty good game! In my opinion, at least, and I'll die on this hill. As a long time DA fan, while it wasn't exactly what I wanted, I enjoyed what I got and my only regret is that we'll probably never get another sequel bc of the negative review-bombing...

But that's not the point of this post. On one of those articles, I saw a comment where someone mentioned that Veilguard hit a lot of their marks, but they thought the companions were flat and that they couldn't get attached to them, and I just don't get that at all, lol.

I adore Inquisition, I've played it the most out of all the other games (primarily bc I had it for PS4 and my PS3--for Origins and 2--is slow, like, holy fuck), but thinking back on it, I feel closer to Veilguard's companions than Inquisition's if I'm just talking about surface-level things you learn about them all throughout the games they're in. Don't get me wrong, I love DAI's companions! But idk, it feels a little more like Veilguard's companions have more autonomy and purpose/goals than Inquisition's. And yes, I know that Inquisition's companions have goals and opinions and their own reasons for joining the Inquisition, etc, it just feels different. Not better or worse, I suppose, but different. That could also be a product of the plot being vastly different, but still.

Regardless, that random person commenting that about Veilguard's companions threw me bc I just cannot relate. Do I wish certain romances were a little more fleshed out and were more integrated into the story so it actually felt like my OCs are romantically involved? Yes, absolutely. But I am also happy with the game as is. I could nitpick every game I have ever played, but I still love them. I just don't understand why all games must now be Masterpieces to be considered even just good. Veilguard was good, it just wasn't perfect or the game of the year. Why does being a ~7/10 equal "bad"?

Fuck EA, for many things but especially for favoring Mass Effect over Dragon Age (they're both excellent, stop pitting bad bitches against each other), and fuck everyone who just wanted to see the game fail bc it wasn't what they wanted. I'm so sad there will probably never be more DA... Fan fiction will have to do.