#that no one asked for or wants and will probably hate

[no-144444]

quick tweet, big problem- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar are together, but the world doesn't need to know you're engaged. lando decides they do.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! kravitz! reader

(context in case you don't know him: ted kravitz is a skyf1 presenter)

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“Red flag, red flag, come in,” Tom said.

Annoyance surged through him. This race was not going his way at all. He started slowing down, following closely behind Lawson. “Who’s off?”

“Colapinto,” he explained. “It’s a big one, probably a 20 to 30 minute red flag.”

For fucks sake. Oscar had told them it was too dangerous. They didn’t listen. He paid the price. Now Max was up into p2, and Lando was stuck in p5. Oscar couldn’t even do anything to help. He grunted, getting out of the car and following Tom back to the garage. 

He was ushered over to his engineers, but honestly all he wanted was to see you. Being Lando’s race engineer, Oscar had seen you around the paddock in some of his first weeks and befriended you, on top of that, he’d fallen madly in love with you and asked you out 11 months ago. You two had been going out for 11 months now, and, while he could see you between the screens as his engineers and Andrea gave him advice about the race, he kind of tuned them out, too busy staring at you.

“Jesus, loverboy, just go say hi and come back, alright? We need you thinking with your head, not your dick,” Zak scoffed, finally allowing him to see you. 

Quickly, Oscar rounded the corner of the desk and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on the top of yours. You didn’t stop talking to Lando, explaining the plan for the rest of the race. 

“But I fucking said to stay out,” Lando whined. 

“No, you told us to box you. We told you to stay out,” you explained, your voice calm. 

Lando just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” then walked off to go brood somewhere else. 

“Shitty weather, eh?” you mused.

“Awful,” he nodded. 

“Is that sweat or rain?” you asked, feeling how wet he truly was. 

“Both,” he sighed. He knew there were about forty cameras on the two of you. Moments between you two that the public saw were few and far between. You liked it that way. He liked it that way. Privacy was something he essentially gave up when he became a public figure, but that didn’t mean you had to. “How’s Lando doing?”

“He’s just pissed away his chance at World Champion,” you took a deep breath, leaning into him. “And I’ll be the one he screams at during the end of the race. I’ll be the one having to explain it to Zak, and I won’t get home until probably tomorrow. And my dad is staring at us.”

Oscar groaned. “Fucking hate dealing with this shit.” 

You nodded. “Me too. But at least there’s no race for two weeks.” 

“We’re off to Melbourne,” he reminded you. “Have to do the family rounds, since we’re engaged,” he beamed. Over the last break, Oscar had proposed. It was the happiest moment of your lives (closely followed by Oscar’s win in Baku), and now you were on your way to visit his extended family for the first time. Since he’d met most of your family (especially considering Ted Kravitz was your father and Oscar met him before he met you), it was only fair that you make the trip and meet his.

Before that though, you had to get through today. 

“You’d better go chat with your engineers,” you took your hands off his. “Zak is giving me dirty looks.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want to.” 

You chuckled. “Go,” you urged him. “If you get higher than p9 I’ll give you a kiss at the end of the race.”

“Good deal,” he pondered. “Or I could just kiss you now,” and with that, he pressed his lips to yours quickly, before running off to his side of the garage. 

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Lando was an idiot, but he was Oscar's idiot, so you didn't kill him. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone slipped up, whether it be your dad, you, or Oscar. You didn't suspect it would be Lando, though. You did enjoy watching Oscar shout at him though. That was pretty funny.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[ceeberoni]

hey so i need mad help at a pretty terrible time!!

TL;DR I NEED ABOUT $1900 FOR ME AND MY PARTNER TO GET INTO THIS HOUSE WE GOT WITH SOME FRIENDS. ILL BE ABLE TO PAY RENT ONCE IM IN BUT THESE ARE THE REST OF THE COSTS WE HAVE LEFT BETWEEN ME AND MY PARTNER TO PAY THE DOWN PAYMENT/FIRST MONTHS RENT/PET DEPOSIT FOR OUR SHARE.

not including moving or like, living, during this time into those costs. i already feel bad asking for this much sdklfjslkdfskldf

PAYPAL - chocolatebananapop@gmail.com

VENMO - ceeberoni

KO-FI - ceeberoni

OR IF U WANT ART

COMMISSIONS - REDBUBBLE

ive been boosting my commission post to try and Earn My Money The Noble Way but no ones buyin so i need to do real ebegging cuz im really bad off right now and of course i feel fucking RANCID having to ebeg right now especially when so many other people are in much more dire straits than me at the moment

but im finally getting a house with my childhood friend and his partner (along with my partner) and i will FINALLY be moving out of a house owned by my abusive mom! and i no longer have qualms saying this about her because every one of my friends fucking hates her even when i try to stick up for her and im pretty sure that means shes probably the bad guy and not me but im not sure yet. i will keep you posted

anyway to cut right down to it i got kicked out of my house of 6 years by her cuz my sister and her kids needed a place to live (which like, yeah that tracks, she got all the kids and herself in a studio with a basement but theyve got a roof over their head, the kids at the end of the day are who i number one want a roof over the head of so its fine) and have been house hunting since like idk. late july or early august at this point idr when it was anymore. and it has been such a fucking shitshow but FINALLY after all these months we have a place with our friends and its NOT MY MOMS PLACE and were ALMOST FUCKING THERE

and like right now im in half of a fucking garage with no running water no kitchen no bathroom paying $400/m rent with no bathroom and no ability to save to move and im also paying $200 for mine, my sisters, and my nephews phone bill, no bathroom, i got my car insurance, i got the internet i cant even fucking use anymore that i pay for out of pocket so the kids can watch shit or whatever so do you see where the situation is like fucked up here also i have to walk across the street to take a shit and shower did i mention

umm so any money help would be lit, boosting would also be lit, have a nice day,

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[saikenakoego]

And I continue again with another OC ask thing that nobody but myself asked.

Because it's fun!

This time again with Sammy, the walking contradiction! A vampire hunter turned vampire against her will!

Because I love her--

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv This gal vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

1. Are you superstitious?

SM: That would mean putting my fate in the hands of someone or something else. No.

2. Would you be phased about walking under a ladder?

SM: No.

3. What would you do if a black cat crossed your path?

SM: ...Nothing? What does it matter?

4. How would you react if you broke a mirror?

SM: Depends on who it belonged to.

5. Do you avoid any certain number? If so, which ones? Why?

SM: Not a fan of 7... dunno why. It makes me mad.

6. What's your favorite cryptid?

SM: If there's any that doesn't mess with people, then that one. Otherwise, I hate all of 'em.

7. Would you ever go cryptid hunting? If so, why?

SM: ...You're asking me? The vampire hunter? Gee, I wonder why I do it?!

8. What do you think about ghosts?

SM: Depends on the type. Some are tragic, others not so much.

SM: Johnny knows more about this kind of stuff. I just do my job.

9. Have you ever seen a ghost?

SM: ...What're ya, a cop? Not telling.

10. Have you ever gone ghost hunting? If so, why?

SM: ...Yes, I have. Because it's kind of necessary for me-- us. Its annoying that I have to state that out loud, thought it'd be obvious.

11. What do you think about magic? Are you generally in favor or against it?

SM: Cheating. Dirty tricks for cowards that can't do anything by themselves. It corrupts the mind and leads you to become complacent. That's why THEY use it.

12. Do you know any magic? If so, is it a natural or learned skill?

SM: Even if I know it, that doesn't mean I'd use it. Or want to use it. Much rather put my trust in steel and silver.

13. What would you say would be your favorite use of magic?

SM: The only good use of magic is keeping it locked up.

14. Have you ever made a deal with a magical or supernatural entity?

SM: IT. WAS. NOT. A DEAL.

15. What form would your familiar take?

SM: A grenade. So I can blow it up alongside my target, and never see it again.

16. Have you ever traveled into the past, and so, what did you change?

SM: No. If only...

17. Have you ever traveled into the future, and if so, how was it like?

SM: No. The only future I have is in the grave, once this is all over.

18. Have you ever had a prophetic vision or dream, and if so, what was it like?

SM: None that I recall.

19. Have you ever had an astral projection or out of body experience?

SM: No. Johnny says he has though, and with how weird that kid is, its probably true.

20. Have you ever visited another plane of reality or existence, and if so, what was it like?

SM: No.

21. Have you ever attended a seance or used a ouija board? What happened?

SM: I think I did it once with my old friends. The details are... blurry, though.

22. Do you keep things like salt, garlic or silver on hand for defensive purposes?

SM: Salt is more Johnny's thing. Says it's spiritual protection or something. Can never go wrong with some silver, though. Punch a good hole into a bloodsucker with ease. The garlic thing though? Totally fake. If its not blood, they can't smell it.

23. Have you ever cleansed your surroundings with sage or holy water?

SM: Again, more Johnny's thing. I can't even stand the thought of holy water.

24. Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? If so, why?

SM: I didn't believe Johnny at first, but then I saw them.

25. Do you believe in any conspiracy theories? And if so, which ones and why?

SM: When you're unaware of what's goin' on behind the curtain, it's easy to discard any theory as baloney. Take a peek, and you'll never doubt again.

26. What would you do if you came face to face with a rabid zombie?

SM: Same as I do with any bloodsucker. Fill it with silver, then tear it apart limb by limb. My only regret would be not being able to make it suffer more.

27. Would you allow a vampire into your home?

SM: My father did. Once.

28. Have you ever witnessed a werewolf transformation?

SM: Yeah. It was like watching vampirification take place in the span of a couple of seconds.

29. How likely is it that you would be charmed and fall prey to mermaids?

SM: Null. Flesheaters are the same as bloodsuckers. No mercy for either.

30. What supernatural creature would you most prefer to be?

SM: Anything else, but this.

you: me: me: here’s a weird oc ask meme involving various mysterious, supernatural, and paranormal subjects that you can fill out on your own or with the help of your followers 👽✌

(01) Is your OC superstitious? (02) Would your OC be phased about walking under a ladder? (03) What would your OC do if a black cat crossed their path? (04) How would your OC react if they broke a mirror? (05) Does your OC avoid any certain numbers? If so, which ones, and why?

(06) What is your OC’s favorite cryptid? (07) Would your OC ever go cryptid hunting? Why or why not? (08) What does your OC think about ghosts? (09) Has your OC ever seen a ghost? (10) Would your OC ever go ghost hunting? Why or why not?

(11) What does your OC think about magic? Is your OC generally for or against magic? (12) Does your OC know any magic? If so, is it a natural talent or a learned skill? (13) What would your OC say would be their favorite use for magic? (14) Has/would your OC ever made a deal with a magical or supernatural entity? (15) What form does/would your OC’s familiar take?

(16) Has your OC ever traveled into the past? If so, did they change anything? (17) Has your OC ever traveled into the future? If so, what was it like? (18) Has your OC ever had a prophetic vision or dream? If so, what did they see? (19) Has your OC ever had an out of body experience or astral projected? (20) Has your OC ever visited another plane of reality or existence? If so, was it by choice?

(21) Has your OC ever attended a seance or used a ouiji board? What happened? (22) Does your OC keep things like salt, garlic, or silver on hand for defensive purposes? (23) Has your OC ever cleansed their surroundings with things like sage or holy water? (24) Does your OC believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? Why or why not? (25) Does your OC believe any conspiracy theories? If so, which ones, and why?

(26) What would your OC do if they were face to face with a rabid zombie? (27) Would your OC allow a vampire into their home? (28) Has your OC ever witnessed a werewolf transformation? (29) How likely is it that your OC would be charmed by and fall prey to mermaids? (30) What supernatural creature would your OC most prefer to be?

[mochiwonz]

✉︎ - You Love Me Too? ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : fem!reader x lee heeseung , fluff , cursing , skinship (kissing , hugging etc) heeseung is older than reader by 2 years , he babies her a litttleee , hes also kind-of a flirt and doesn't rly realize it ♡

𓍯𓂃 word count : 1.1k

𓍯𓂃 note : wrote this with orange haired hee in mindddd :3 i apologize for any grammar mistakes and this is my first time actually writing a fic, so pls don't hate me if this is complete ass !! (leave some notes or reblog if you enjoy :D)

Another agonizing day at the coffee shop. Disrespectful people were definitely the absolute fucking worst. Just because you're serving them drinks doesn't mean they get to treat you like shit. God, you just wanted to be in his arms, having him caress your hair and sit with you while he listened to you ramble on and on about how terrible work is. Heeseung always made you feel validated, like your feelings were real feelings and that they actually mattered. You sigh as you text him for the sixth time today "hey hee, i'm home..where are you? txt me plz" At this point, you're getting worried. He's supposed to be home, he always answers your texts.

*Ping!* Oh shit, it could either be your boss or heeseung. "Please be hee please be hee!!" you say out loud, hoping it'll do something. You slowly pick up your phone, hands shaking, and-

"YES ITS HEE!!!!!! FINALLY oh my god"

His text read "hey sweets <3 sorry for not responding...was busy doing smth at the salon. c u soon!" What? Salon? When has he ever been to the salon?....oh. The last time he went was when he dyed his hair back to black.

Oh shit, you're in big. fucking. trouble. God knows how much you love and adore and want heeseung, who wouldn't? He's like an angel, perfect nose with big bambi eyes, tall, and has the most beautiful smile you've ever laid your eyes on. One problem though, he's your bestfriend. Bestfriend of 4 years, actually. Bestfriends don't like eachother like that. It's fine, you just have a little crush...it's not like you love love him, right? Plus, he probably doesn't even want you like that.

Right as you were about to make your way to the shared bathroom, you hear a sound. Footsteps. Footsteps that could only belong to lee heeseung. Fuck.

"Hey sweets" he says, and you can hear his grin. Surprised, not expecting his voice to be all up in your ear, you quickly turn around. Oh. My. God. You're faced with a grinning heeseung with......orange hair?!

"YOUR HAIR IS ORANGE??" you exclaim quite loudly, sounding a bit too excited. He chuckles a little, and holy fuck he looks absolutely delicious.

"Yeah sweets, whatcha ya think?" he asks, in an almost flirtatious tone of voice.

What do you think??? You think you're 1. about to fucking explode, 2. lunge at him because he's so fucking fine, and 3. cum in your pants. Or, to be honest, all of them at once!

"Oh yeah, right uhm it looks fine!" God, you made it so obvious.

"You sure? You seem like you're lying sweets." he says while looking deeply into your eyes with his own beautiful bambi eyes and playing with his new orange hair. You swear he's purposely doing this. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, fuck. Get ahold of yourself y/n.

"Hee, of course i'm not lying. You look good, really good actually..." Shit, shit, shit. Why did you add that last part?? All you want to do right now is dig a hole into the ground and bury yourself.

You hadn't realized you'd been looking at the ground for a whole minute - sucked into your thoughts, until heeseung put his big hands on your chin and lifted your face to meet his.

"Yeah? I look really good?" he questions, voice laced with some sort of excitement. And as soon as your eyes meet his, he smiles. And all of a sudden, you realize, you don't have a crush on this man. You're whipped for him, you're in love with lee heeseung.

"Yeah..." you say under your breath. "Well thanks sweets, means alot coming from you, you know that right?" he tells you, with a sweet voice - almost cooing.

You don't respond, you can't respond. You're flustered as fuck. The man you realized that you're in love with, is less than 2ft away from you and almost...flirting...with you?

Almost a whole minute of silence goes by, nobody moves. Pained from the awkward silence, you decide to say something.

"Hey hee?.." you say, voice sounding small. "Mhm?" he hums, interested in what you're going to say next. "So okay, how do I say this. I think i'm in love with you. Actually, wait no, scratch that shit, i'm so fucking in love with you. I don't know if you even see me like that. You're so perfect inside and out, the man of my dreams actually. I don't even know what to do with myself when i'm around you. When you talk to me in a gentle voice or comfort me when i'm upset, all I want to do is kiss you. And I knoww this is cringey as fuck but I can't help it" you say, now out of breath from your rapping. (LMAOO<33)

Heeseung has an expression on his face that you can't seem to put your finger on. Shocked, unhappy, confused...you don't know. Before you could come up with any negative thoughts, he finally talks.

"Sweets...you mean that?" he asks, voice just as gentle as before, if anything - even more gentle. Can he stop staring at you like that? You're on the verge of exploding.

"Of course I mean it, dumbass." He giggles in response, and then brings his left hand onto your head as if he's patting your head and right hand to your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. "Fuck, I love you so much beautiful. And you're right, i'm a complete dumbass. I waited way too long to confess, i'm sorry sweets." he says, smiling at you and you swear you can see hearts in his eyes.

"Wait...you love me too?"

Instead of responding to you, he brings you closer to him. You can feel his hand slowly moving from the top of your head to your waist. To not make it awkward, you bring your arms around his neck, causing you to tippy toe a little. He has the softest smile on his face. You thought you were in love with him? God, he is so in awe of you and your beauty. You probably weren't even aware that your cheeks were all pink and adorable.

You watch his eyes move from your lips to your eyes and back to your lips. "Sweets, can I kiss you? Wanna know how you taste so bad."

And shit, how could you ever say no to him?

"Yes, please kiss me" you say in response, sounding desperate(as fuck).

As soon as he hears the "yes" slip out of your beautiful lips, he's quick to bring your faces closer together and close the gap. And fuck, his lips are perfect. It's like your lips were made for his and his were made for yours. Both of you were savoring this moment, your very first kiss with the man of your dreams, lee heeseung. Once you were out of breath, you finally pulled away - a string of saliva connecting your guys' lips.

Wasting no time, he picks you up as if you were as light as a feather, and spins you around like the princess you are. "I can finally call you my girl and my princess, and kiss you whenever I want!!" he exclaims, and you can tell hes smiling hard.

You laugh, feeling the happiest you've felt in forever. You look down to see him smiling at you, looking at you as if you were unreal. An angel. His angel ♡

oh my god LMAO hope this isn't too bad :p my other works are here <33

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 2

Part 1.

Summary: You swallow your pride and ask Melissa to do you the favor of a lifetime.

WC: ~2.5k

Monday morning comes all too soon for you. Today is the day that you have to swallow all of your pride and your hatred for the redheaded woman and all but beg her to pretend to be your faux girlfriend for the holidays.

You’re sitting at your desk trying to grade the last few spelling tests you skipped out on over the weekend when you hear her make her way in, keys jingling and boots clanking against the tile loudly. God- you do not want to do this. But it’s now, or it’s in the staff lounge with everybody watching and listening in. So, you stand from your desk, run your fingers through your hair nervously, and make your way over to her door.

Her back is turned to you, she’s leaning over to put her bags on the ground, and… damn. Her figure is insane. You take a few silent moments to appreciate it without her being aware that you’re there. Quietly, you knock on her doorframe and lean against it, arms crossed over your chest. Are you pushing your breasts up just the slightest bit? Maybe. If you have to swallow your pride and nearly die of embarrassment, you might as well look hot doing it.

She turns just her top half, still leaning over, and you have the perfect view of her… Shit. Stop looking. 

“What could you possibly need right now?” She huffs out. “It’s freakin’ Monday at 7:30.”

You harden at the greeting she’s given you. “Trust me,” you roll your eyes. “I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do. But, I got to talk to you. Alone.”

“Oh?” The redhead raises her brow and sits in her seat before looking at you confused. “Come to finally tell me that you’re-”

“I need a favor,” you sigh. “Like, a really big one.”

“I can’t get you outta a ticket,” Melissa snorts. “You know that.”

“I don’t need that. I need… I need you to…” Just fucking say it. “I need you to pretend to my girlfriend over the holidays.”

Her jaw drops. It’s clear that’s not what she was expecting you to say in the slightest. “What?”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend over the holidays, and before you shoot me down, at least let me give you the sob story and think about it. Please?”

She begins howling with laughter. “Sure, let’s hear it.”

You explain what had happened on Saturday, and you hate the way that she’s getting such pleasure out of your misfortune. “And they all mentioned something about it yesterday as I was leaving too, so I know I can’t get out of embarrassment either way- having you there somehow seems like the better option.”

“Why’d you say my name?” your colleague asks, and it’s clear she genuinely wants to know. But then she gives you that ridiculous smirk again. “Is it because you know I’m the hottest person you could think of?”

“Please,” you snort. “I was going through the list of single people I knew in my head, and I knew I couldn’t say someone that my mom already knew… unfortunately, your name came out of my mouth before I could stop it. And now they know what you look like, so it’s not like I can ask anyone else to pretend to be you. But you wish I thought you were hot.”

That’s a bluff. You think she’s hot as hell, but she can’t know that. And what you don’t know is that Melissa wishes you didn’t hate her the way that you do, and she wishes that she didn’t have to pretend to hate you to get your attention. 

“What’s in it for me?” she chooses to ask.

You roll your eyes. “My mom’s cooking, and you get out of having to deal with Kristen Marie on Christmas.”

“And…?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“A hundred bucks a day.”

“No way.”

“How many days are we talkin’?”

“Probably the weekend,” you sigh. “That’s three hundred bucks and an hour car ride there and back; usually stay with them during the holidays so I don’t have to drive back and forth, and if I don’t, they’ll know something’s up.”

“Three hundred bucks,” Melissa states again. She knows she won’t take your money, but she wants to see how desperate you are.

You groan. “Fine.”

“And then what are you gonna tell them after?”

“That we broke up,” you tell her as if it’s obvious. “Trust me. This is just going to be a weekend thing, and then I’ll only have to talk to you at work.”

“Fine. Don’t go fallin’ in love with me, babe,” the redhead winks at you.

You absolutely despise the way that the red creeps into your cheeks. “Don’t worry. That’s the last thing I’ll be doing.”

As the holiday season approaches, your mother continues to pester you about bringing your ‘girlfriend’ around before the actual holiday. Luckily, you can use the excuse that you are extremely busy with your students, as is Melissa. It’s not a lie- you feel like you’re drowning this year. You know your colleague isn’t fairing much better with her students.

But the Friday before winter break starts, exactly a week before you have to make your way back to your parents house, you step into Melissa’s room again early in the morning.

“Come over tonight. We need to figure out all of the details of our relationship so we don’t flop in front of my family next week,” you tell the redhead.

Melissa shakes her head though. “You come to me. Ain’t no way I’m goin’ to your place and eating takeout when I can just make us dinner.”

“Fine.”

“Six. Bring wine.”

After a long day of school with children all too eager to be done for the week, they’re sent home, and you’re able to leave the school for the weekend. You’re looking forward to the last few days of teaching before the break and then Christmas break itself… until you remember that you have to spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the day after with Melissa. God, this is going to suck.

Still, you’re caught in your web of lies, and you know you can’t back out now- not this late in the game. So, at six o’clock, you’re on Melissa’s front stoop, knocking with a few bottles of wine in hand.

When the redhead opens the door, you hate yourself for ogling her. She’s standing there in a tank top and sweatpants, hair knotted up in a messy bun, and covered in flour. “Jesus. I said a bottle, not three.”

“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, and we’re gonna have to be drunk to make this work,” you shrug.

“Red,” is all she says as she steps out of the way to let you in. “Don’t forget that for when you’re getting me wine at your parents.”

You make a mental note of that, and then you make your way in. “I hate you.”

“I know,” is all Melissa responds with. “But it wasn’t me who said we were dating, now was it?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” Green eyes bore into your own for a few seconds, clearly challenging you.

You just set your things down on her counter with a scowl. 

As much as you hate to say it, her cooking is delightful. The wine pairs well with the food. And you aren’t complaining about the view. Melissa looks… she’s hot as fucking hell, and you’ve caught yourself staring at her rack quite a few times during dinner.

You insist on cleaning up dinner, and she fights you on it. There’s something about it that makes you feel a certain way. It’s almost like you love to hate her.

Before you know it, the two of you are settled on the couch, each with yet another glass on wine in hand, and you’re attempting to hash out your fake love story.

“I told them we’ve been dating for a while,” you sigh. “So… I’m thinking four months? Long enough for you to show up to Christmas, but short enough for them to not know about you.”

“Sure,” she agrees without much of a fight. “I’m assuming we just met through work?”

“I figure the more truthful this lie is, the easier it’ll be to keep up with,” you shrug.

Melissa nods along. “That’s a good plan.”

“The other thing is…” you rub your collarbone nervously. “When I’m in a relationship, I tend to be quite touchy, so we have to- we have to do that.”

The redhead shrugs. “Whatever we have to do in order for me to get my three hundred bucks.”

You spend another two hours learning about each other, drinking wine as you go. She’s learned about your parents, your aunts and uncles, where you went to college, what your favorite color is, what kind of wines and cocktails you prefer, the foods that will be at dinners that you won’t go near, what you like to do in your free time… and in turn, you’ve heard all about her enormous family, how long she’s been at Abbott, how she loves to crochet but never knit, the fact that she has a guitar in her classroom that she doesn’t know how to play other than basic chords, among other things. The two of you agree that Melissa was the one to make the move on you after a happy hour with the work crew. You were the first one to say ‘I love you’, and those at school aren’t aware of the budding relationship between the two of you.

It’s a revealing night, and you find yourself not wanting to beat the shit out of the woman next to you. You would almost venture to say that you’re enjoying you’re time with her- almost. 

It’s fairly safe to say when you’re finished going over family trees, your back story, and basic information about each other that you’re both wine drunk. You’ve gone through two bottles, and you’re halfway through the third.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think I’m lettin’ you drive home like this,” your coworker laughs as she watches you attempt to gather your things. “Just stay the night.”

“Like hell I’m doin’ that.”

“You’re gonna have to spend a weekend with me sharing the same bed, in your parents’ house. Get over yourself,” Melissa tells you. “Seriously. Just stay- I got a spare bedroom you can use.”

“Fine.”

The next morning, she’s awake before you and somehow not hungover the way that you are. Melissa’s already left the house actually. She left you a note to make you aware of that.

Had to run out to do some grocery shopping. Don’t miss me too much. She finishes the note with a winking face, and she signs it ‘Mel’.

You roll your eyes, but you pick up the pen before scrawling out, Thanks for letting me stay the night. And then just to fuck with her, you scribble down an ‘xo’. And then you head back to your own apartment, entirely forgetting that you’re still clad in her sweatpants and About shirt.

With a heavy sigh, you shoot her a text. I left, but I forgot I’m wearing your stuff.

Just keep it for now. Bring it when we go to your parents’ house so it looks like you’ve had it for a while.

I hate to say it, but good idea.

I’m full of good ideas, babe.

You spend most of your Saturday nursing a hangover, Sunday is spent preparing things for the final few days of school before Christmas break. With Christmas Eve being on a Friday and Christmas being on a Saturday, that means you have up until Wednesday with your kids. Wednesday is the class holiday party, and you would prefer to have everything set and ready for you to just throw in the trunk of your car come the day of the celebration before you send the kids off.

Then, once your kids are sent off to their parents high on sugar and eager for the break from learning, you’re stuck with the knowledge that you have to spend some of your own retreat with the woman that you love to hate.

“I think we should have dinner again,” Melissa knocks on your door as you’re gathering your belongings. “Come over, I’ll make dinner, and we can go through our story again.”

“I’m bringing the wine?”

Your coworker smirks. “Yeah.”

This dinner ends the exact same way that your last dinner with the redhead did. You’re asleep in Melissa’s guest room dressed in a pair of her sweatpants and an old Abbott tee-shirt.

When you wake up this time around though, Melissa isn’t out. She’s actually downstairs sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

“The newspaper? Are you serious?” you tease her.

Your colleague just rolls her eyes. “I like having the fine print- reminds me of when my dad used to read it.”

“Well, lucky for you, my parents still get the paper delivered every morning,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how, but they manage it.”

Melissa purses her lips and sips her coffee. “Good to know.”

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly before sighing. “Well, I’m gonna head out, but I’ll pick you up Friday at ten? My mom likes when I come over early so I can help her set everything up.”

The redhead just nods.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night again,” you say quietly before you grab your bag and leave.

Thursday, you spend most of the day regretting your decision of lying to your parents and aunt and somehow convincing the Melissa Schemmenti to play into your lie. Most of Thursday night is you lying awake and stressing. When you do finally fall asleep, you’re plagued with stress dreams about how this could all go terribly wrong.

All too soon does your alarm go off, you’re hauling your suitcase into the car, and then you’re making your way to Melissa’s house to pick her up.

She’s ready relatively quickly and jumping into your passenger seat in an awfully good mood for someone who has to pretend to be in love with you.

The drive is quiet, and you thank God for that. But then, you’re pulling into your parents’ driveway, and your nerves start to get the best of you. You feel your palms sweating as you don’t loosen your grip on the steering wheel. 

Melissa looks to you with her brows furrowed. “Hey.”

“What?” you grit out.

“If you don’t fuck this up, I won’t.” And then she’s out of your car and grabbing both of your bags before she makes her way over to your door and opens it for you.

You raise a brow.

“Your mom is already standing at the front door waiting for us to come in,” she whispers to you. And then for good measure, she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “C’mon.”

You tangle your hand with her free one, and then you’re making your way up to the door. You can only pray Melissa isn’t disgusted with your sweaty palms.

You don’t even have to knock before your mother whips open the door, Aunt Jo right behind her, with a grin on her face.

Here goes nothing. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[suzukiblu]

Day four of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Sidewalk,” he says, quick and abrupt. “Uh–please. Just . . . can we land somewhere?” 

He needs to think straight, and he needs to take a step back, and he needs to–compartmentalize, and focus. 

Kon’s talking like–Kon’s acting like– 

Robin’s met a lot of people who feel like they need to sell themselves in one way or another, and a lot of kids who don’t act quite like–who aren’t– 

He doesn’t exactly like to think it, but right now Kon’s reminding him of some of the abuse and trafficking victims he’s met; the call girls and rent boys and just . . . 

Just the kids who act like somebody gave them a script, instead of like they figured out what they wanted to say for themselves. 

“Um–yeah, sure,” Kon says, just barely frowning, which is probably because Tim is having a very hard time acting okay about Kon talking to him like an escort chatting up a client or–

He really cannot act okay about that, no. 

It makes him think about Cadmus taking advantage of Kon’s time and life for barely anything more than room and board and wonder just what Kon was doing in Hawaii and just what kind of girls he’s dated, and–

He really, really cannot act okay about this at all. 

Kon shifts his grip on him and then flies them down to the mouth of an alley that opens out onto a sidewalk–again, terrible Gotham survival instincts, but Tim really doesn’t have the bandwidth to get into that right now–and lets Tim down onto the concrete and gravel. Tim takes a step back from him and clears his throat, trying not to be–not to seem–

Robin knows how to talk to escorts and prostitutes and victims and people who think they’re a product in just about every possible situation. Because obviously he does, and of course he does. There is just–there’s not a situation in which a Robin wouldn’t know how to do that. That’s just not a thing. 

But Tim Drake doesn’t know how to talk to Kon-El in this situation. 

“Thanks,” he tries awkwardly, and Kon shifts his weight and looks like he’s about to hunch his shoulders, but instead visibly redirects to stand up straighter; links his hands together behind his back. It pushes his chest out a little, and the way he’s standing is–

The way Kon’s standing is a display, even now. 

It always is, isn’t it. 

Tim thinks about the stupid teen-magazine poses, and thinks maybe he wasn’t actually prepared enough for the kind of relationship that involves paying for literally everything in the life of someone who views themselves as . . . whatever, exactly, Kon views himself as. 

Tim didn’t actually realize Kon viewed himself as anything but a superhero, and didn’t really follow through the logic of what somebody who thinks their entire purpose in life is to be useful might . . . assume here, maybe.

“Did I do something wrong?” Kon asks, looking uncomfortable. Tim tries to figure out how to say yes but I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was actually someone ELSE doing something wrong and you not knowing that said something WAS wrong in a way that won’t sound patronizing or too heavy or make Kon get defensive or just ditch him or–“I, uh–I just haven’t really done it before–with a guy, I mean–so I just . . . well, you can give me some tips, right? I’m not, like–I’m up for anything, y’know?” 

Tim hates this conversation.

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

[yanderefarm]

Currently caught up on your posts and saw what 🪐 anon said so to make this better lets break some more yanderes!!

We already got some Nephy content so let's step it up a notch..

How about making some of the yanderes totally codependent on us in order to even live?? Like we go really extreme and remove one of their limbs sort of things because if they're willing to do anything to keep us then we should return the favor to them

I have an issue...

-🐝

cw;; cannibalism, gore, amputation, violence, abuse, ableism (kind of?? this isn't meant to be realistic depictions to begin with so take it with a grain of salt), amputation kink, dehumanization, dumbification, pet play, dead dove don't eat

ohhhh the amputation ask was about us doing it. still. its an amputation kind of night so we're doing it.

i can only see this with a few of them so im just gonna write about them. tbh i could probably also do something with ajax but i don't know what.

silvan;; he can't hurt himself anymore if he doesn't have arms. after being particularly bad and hurting himself enough to leave an ugly scar you decided to go through the process of having his limbs removed. it's usually reserved for cruel pet owners but in your case it's necessary for his own well being. well removing his legs wasn't necessary but you thought it would be better that way. he's completely dependent on you, he has no choice but to spend his days being carried by you or his maid because you refuse to give him any mobility aids. the only time he gets a taste of freedom again is during parties where you outfit him in beautiful but barely functional porcelain prosthetics. he can't move his hands and he can just barely walk so he still has to rely on you.

imagine him cutely waking you up by crawling over top of you. you open your eyes and look up to see his cheeks red and tears in his eyes. poor thing needs you to carry him to the bathroom, you give him a little kiss before you put him on the bed. you watch him squirm and try to sit up before you finally pick him up like a child. his tears soak your nightshirt as you carry him to the bathroom. he's so pathetic.

achilles;; the ultimate punishment. one of your regulars in your streams and as a customer asked you one night how much for a leg, normal question for you. except he meant achilles leg. and he was willing to pay millions for it. achilles and you spend a long time talking it over. it's not that you don't love the idea of taking away his life and making him solely dependent on you but you're worried about him waking up one day hating you for doing this to him. he assures you that's impossible and even if he did wake up one day hating you he would want you to break him back into place. he asserts over and over that his life, his body, his mind are all yours to break as you will. so he loses a leg. and then an arm. and soon enough your cute toy is just a sweet little thing that needs you for everything.

imagine him crawling as best he can over to you whining the whole way. you take pity on him and pick him up, sitting him in your lap while you play games. everyone in the stream says hi to him so excited to see him and his face that was once the picture of stoicism lights up with glee. he waves a nubby arm at them and almost falls off your lap. you give him a gentle kiss as you fix him between your legs. you have to remind him again to use his words and he struggles to think like he has every day since he became a happy little toy. "fhank you!!" so cute.

noemie;; he's premium meat and you've always found it a waste not to eat him no matter how much you like him. so when he gets on your last nerve you decide you've had enough. he screams and cries like a proper pig but you can tell even through his tears he's so happy. you only take his limbs and let him keep the rest because that's how much you like him. he is so grateful when he watches you eating one of his legs and you're kind enough to feed him some as well!! and now, you take your four legged piggy and you put him in your bedroom, metal on his nubs, hook in his nose, a little fake pig tail in his ass. he's a reward for you after a long day of work. sometimes you take him out and carry him around for some fresh air and to see everything you've been working on.

imagine opening the door to your bedroom to see your little piggy sitting in his bed on the floor looking excited to see you and immediately oinking. you pick him up and carefully remove his nose hook before you start to head to the bath. you're covered in blood and grime from work and he smells sweaty. he'll cuddle against your chest while he talks about what he thought about all day and how much he missed you. in the bath he'll splash and blow bubbles and be all excited you have to take him out and wrap him tightly in his towel so you can actually clean yourself. but he'll never stop talking and praising and smiling at you.

[jaal-ama-daravv]

alright, I am dissecting the Emmrich graveyard scene below for how down bad they are for eachother

pls note I have attached screen caps

find my other post here

we begin -

"I would hate to lose you whilst I am still mortal"

this line is directly after Rook questioning all the flirting and what that means for them should he become a lich. which Emmrich responds witht he above. this is a tough one for me to break down as either way Emmrich retains his soul, emotions, and thoughts if he becomes a lich. I believe this line is tied to the fact of being afraid Rook will not want him anymore once he explains his desire to be a lich, as alluded to throughout the rest of the scene.

this one is kind of self explanatory. Emmrich states that nothing will change if he becomes a lich, apart form the no death thing, but would still consider Rook in the decision.

then we are met with a sigh - this is a sigh of desperation. 'how do i choose my words so carefully that Rook see's my desire and doesn't shun me for it' - hence Emmrich goes on to explain what being a lich would mean in hopes rook will still desire him. (this becomes a big factor throughout the rest of the lich romance - desire)

'considerations'

as above, and again now with considering rook. now the first conversation cuts out after this. it is my belief that these considerations are considering Rook and their perspective, whilst also including the fact that it is later revealed that Emmrich might die during the rite, therefore losing Rook whilst still mortal. I believe this line is both a statement of care for Rook, and his fear od death.

throughout the quest, Rook asks Emmrich a bunch of questions, more so just filler content so Rook can understand lichdom and the process.

then Emmrich shows you something that is probably the closest thing to his heart before Rook. his parents graves. keep in mind that Emmrich had these made, and he engraved 'they walk eternity hand in hand'. Then the next shot is Rook and Emmrich walking side by side to the shrine.

walking eternity hand in hand is also mentioned in the lich romance scene,"find you in another world" aka the fade. this man has believed in soulmates for decades.

subtle conversation tactic of, 'what would you want me to be, rook'. here you either say happy with someone who cares about him, or break up with him (i do nOT reccommend).

simple to the point, emmrich is looking for subtle validation here for rooks feelings

and the fact that there is only one correct option is wild too.

If you choose, "Whatever you want", you reply by saying Happy. which very close to the romance committment line of "Happy with someone who cares for you."

Emmrich is looking for that connection so so badly, hence why only one option

Emmrich's gaze towards Rook as he asks them what shes wants, and baring his soul to her.

after committing - Emmrich does not look away from rook once.

rook is fucked. rook is head over heels in love and smitten with this man. keep in mind that throughout the rest of the game, there are conversations with companions where Emmrich will straight up shut them down when pressed about them 'moving too fast' or 'do you know what you are doing'. Emmrich is very clearly defensive about these things, which is so hot.

in my playthrough, they are necromancers, well aware of how short life is, especially facing the apocolypse. ofc they are going all in.

this man is gonna go home and jump up and down on his bed

do i need to explain this? the shrine of passion and devotion, the ETERNAL SHRINE.

anyway im really, really down bad for this dynamic and them. im also in love with my rook so that doesnt help.

ill most likely do a break down of each scene

[seat-safety-switch]

Modern society has done an incredible job of reducing the number of fire hazards around the home. You no longer cook over an open wood flame while wearing combustible cotton clothes and smoking next to a bunch of turpentine and wooly sheep. Well, most of you don't. Hey, stop calling the police. It's not a "hate crime," you're just being weird.

To make up for this, capitalism has provided us with lots of new things that catch fire. And, in keeping with the idea of constant, upward progress, some of them we have no fucking idea what part of them could catch fire. Do you know what a gallium-nitride field-effect transistor is? No? Then how do you know if the $2.50 (after coupon) phone charger you just got off a website called "Amazong" is running theirs in a safe design?

Being an informed citizen is more critical than ever before. I wanted to catch up with the exciting new future of houses catching on fire, so I went to the experts. I talked to a firefighter, who was actively pouring gasoline on an old farmer's shack out in the forest for some reason. He didn't want to give me his name, but even if he had, I probably wasn't paying attention. On my phone or something, got a notification about Wordle, you know how it is.

"What's the coolest new shit that catches on fire for no goddamn reason?" I asked him.

"Robots," came the reply, tinged with a bit of awe and jealousy. "You ever seen a Roomba burn down an entire barn?" He got distant at this point, seeming to replay a particularly exciting memory with a grin on his face. I took this as my cue to take his extra jerry cans (sharing is caring!) out of the back of his Jeep and make good my escape.

Yes, it does seem like our society's progress on fire protection has been set back temporarily. Even so, I remain confident that one day you'll be able to set off a big ol' pile of Roman candles in the middle of your house and not even have to repaint the kitchen afterward. Just don't let any robots in. Or firefighters.

[yanderelionwrites]

I'll Stay Here - Yandere!Leona x Reader

Content Warning: (soft) yandere, implied kidnapping/captivity, I fear the Stockholm Syndrome has ARRIVED

Word Count: 607

(Again, kind of a part 3 to this, but can be read on its own)

You really need to stop forgetting your things in Leona’s room. Luckily, he doesn’t mind you coming and going, but it’s still a pain to have to walk all through the palace to get there.

You’ve been keeping him company as of late, just sitting in his room while he naps or plays chess, meaning you like to bring your own stuff over to entertain yourself. Today, you left behind a book you were reading earlier, so you thought you would pop by really quick and take it back. Even though it was late in the evening, Leona would most likely be taking a nap right now, so he wouldn’t even bother with trying to engage with you.

Poking your head into his room, you confirm that he’s asleep before tip-toeing over to the table you left your book at. You grab it and turn to sneak back out, but you stop yourself when you glance at Leona’s face.

His expression appears so…soft. Free of the stresses his family, the servants, or even you sometimes cause him. He looks the most at peace he’s ever been…

It makes your heart swell, which is very alarming because you’re supposed to hate this man. And yet, despite it all, you still find yourself drawing nearer to him. Just to get a better look.

Leona sleeps soundlessly on his stomach, with his arms hugging the pillow his head is buried in. You can’t help but smile at the way his ear twitches; he looks like a napping kitty. It’s such a stark contrast to how he acts when he’s awake.

This is so frustrating… One minute you feel like you wish you never met Leona, and other times, you’re thinking it’s not so bad staying here with him. You have everything you need, and anything you want (other than freedom) can be given to you when asked. And Leona himself isn’t awful to be with… He makes sure you’re taken care of and remains respectful around you.

But do you love him enough to want to stay?

…You don’t want to admit you don’t hate him anymore.

Inching ever so closer to his sleeping body, you tentatively reach out to brush a strand of hair out of his face.

You shouldn’t…

Hesitantly, you lean down so that your face is hovering right over the crown of Leona’s head. You place the quickest and gentlest kiss on top of his hair, before immediately withdrawing from him. Trying to leave like you were never there, you turn towards the exit, but jump when a hand grabs your wrist.

A small yelp escapes your lips as you’re pulled backward onto Leona’s bed. Arms wrap around your waist, not too tight but firm enough to let you know that you won’t be leaving anytime soon.

“L-Leona?!” is all you can stutter out, hands uselessly pushing at his arms.

“Just stay here…please,” he utters into your ear, voice husky and surprisingly pleading.

“...Only for a few minutes,” you relent, letting him pull you against his chest.

A few minutes is all Leona needs. He’ll take what he can get.

He feels you relax next to him, and he couldn’t be more content. This was only a small step towards the future he envisions for you both, but it was still important progress. Leona bets you don’t even know how much he’s been holding back, how much of his feelings he’s repressed to make sure you’re comfortable here first. But with this small gesture, you’ve opened the doors to so much more.

You’ve walked into the lion’s enclosure, and there’s no getting out of it now.

~~~

Probably the last part to this little series. I've been cooking up something Savanaclaw related though, so stay tuned for that 👀

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

[mothiir]

What shenanigans do you think lion and leman get up to when they smell their woman ovulating

i’m sorry anon did you ask me to write yet another list of ‘primarchs react to’?

yes, thought you did! here is an incomplete list of ‘primarchs reacting to their lady ovulating’. all of these, apart from roboute, are pre-heresy.

roboute guilliman - starting off strong. This man smells that you are fertile and immediately checks and triple checks that your implant is functioning and that there is no chance that you are getting pregnant. No babies. Not now. Maybe when he has a farm, in a few hundred years. But nope, not now. If things are bad in the imperium at that moment, his ‘can’t be a dad’ anxiety might spike to the point where he doesn’t even want to put his penis near you. He sticks out one knee — still encased in his holy armour — and is like okay rub on that while I finish up this paperwork, you have forty five minutes.

the lion - his sex ed came in two batches: one from observing wild animals, and two from observing some very homosexual knights. He isn’t exactly the expert on the female reproductive cycle. However, he does the best he can, extrapolating from how female lions acted in the forest of Caliban. When they were fertile, they badgered the males for sex constantly, and seemed very distressed when they weren’t being serviced. In his infinite wisdom, he decides that human woman are probably the same, and proceeds to put you on your back at least five times a day. You whinge less than normal (mostly because you are almost comatose with exhaustion) so he counts this as a success.

leman russ - unlike the lion (and indeed most of his brothers) he has had considerable experience with female humans before he met you, so he knows exactly what to do. Yes, he does buy into some stereotypes — you are a little hornier than normal, maybe, but you’re certainly not the insatiable sex goddess he starts treating you like — but his heart (and dick) are in the right place. He may even start hinting about hey do you want pups? Maybe? Just one or two? His dirty talk takes on a distinctive feral tone. Lots of talking about how pretty you’d look with his pups in you. Don’t worry, he’ll calm down eventually.

horus - will hide your birth control. Best bet is to be conveniently absent for this week of your cycle. He’s going to start whining. Ignore him — he’s a big boy, and despite his painted insistence, primarchs do not have a genetic anomaly that makes blue balls fatal.

konrad - he sniffs you more than normal, which is saying something because he sniffs you a lot. Tells you that you smell unbearably revoltingly sweet and he hates it. No, you may not leave his chambers, he wants you to stay here so he can put up with the awful-delightful fecund reek. That’s a direct quote by the way; the man has a way with words. Like Roboute, he is pretty fanatical about not wanting children, so he isn’t going to take any risks. You will end up with a very sore jaw as he makes you swallow the little Night Haunter morning noon and night to take the edge off.

lorgar — look, he knows you’re not going to go around spreading your legs for his legion, he knows that you’re a good chaste girl who only wants him, but you smell so wonderful, and you’re all rosy with health, and his sons —- well, his sons are lovely, but they’re still men. And what chance do men have against the divine? No, you stay in your rooms nice and snug, and he will tell you when you have finished that bit of the cycle and can leave. Until then, he’ll keep you occupied. Partly with sex. Mostly with reading scripture he’s written about how said sex is a divine offering to his Father.

ferrus - meat-woman smell of weak human hormones. vile. must purge woman best way iron hand know how: insertion of the iron co —

fulgrim - writes you the most gorgeous flowery poetry and presents it to you along with an eight foot picture that is designed to ‘celebrate your delightful womanhood’. It is beautiful, in the way that all his art is, but you’ll admit that you don’t quite ‘get’ this one. It’s vaguely in the shape of a uterus, in shades of purple and gold, and — is that a penis? He will then proceed to make you forget your own name, so thankfully your opinion on said art piece is never asked.

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Today, the country indeed looks alien. The America many of us believed we knew now appears stranger in retrospect: The anger and resentment we may have thought was pitched at a simmer turned out to be at a rollicking boil. And one of liberals’ most cherished shibboleths from 2016—that Trumpism is a movement for aggrieved white men—unraveled in the face of a realignment that saw the GOP appear to give birth to a multiracial working-class movement. A second Trump presidency is the result of this misjudgment.

Democrats are a coalition party of the center-left

The Left has traditionally been associated with egalitarianism, which is by necessity concerned with the masses, the common people, the working class, but also the dispossessed, the marginalized, the disadvantaged

The modern Democratic party traces its roots most directly to the New Deal coalition of the 1930s, which it understands to have been a robust working-class and labor-rights movement

They also see themselves in the 1960s cultural revolutions and their repudiation of hierarchy, itself generally seen as the position of the common person, the masses, but also the dispossessed

The party takes its name from Andrew Jackson, great champion of the Common Man, at least as understood at his time, but it goes back to Thomas Jefferson, famous for declaring that "all men are created equal," and now excoriated for failing to live out that egalitarian principle

The Democrats are a party for the people, understood as capaciously as possible, the party that repudiates narrow nationalism and jingoism, in favor of spreading the benefits of American society widely, in opposition to favoring the privileged few

Why am I reminding you of all these things that you already know?

Because they believe so deeply that they are right in every way that matters, or at least incomparably superior to their opponents, they cannot begin to imagine repudiation from the very people in whose interests they thought they were acting, let alone in favor of the very person they swore was an existential, even murderous threat to those very same people

I think to appreciate the sensation, you might imagine a thief broke into your home, and then your family kicked you out in favor of the thief; someone broke in to ravish your spouse and they called the police on you; a sex offender told your children explicitly what he wanted to do them, and your children fought you to get out of your arms so they could crawl into the van knowing full well they'd never see you again

The shock is so existentially horrifying, such a betrayal of reality itself, that it would require rethinking all your most basic assumptions about the political order, human beings, and worst of all, yourself. Why would they do such a manifestly insane thing? Is there something I don't know? What did I miss? What did I do wrong? What do I do now?

Democrats cannot meaningfully internalize that they are the party of the privileged and the elite, by their own philosophy they are themselves the enemy, they write a blank check for the most lurid excesses of anti-colonial violence and call it "exhilarating" without dealing with the fact that given their assumptions, in this society, they are the power and not the resistance

But it's hard to ask yourself these kinds of questions and most people don't have the nerve for it, and so what we see instead, in another little paradox of human nature, is they're going to blame not the ravisher but the spouse

TL;DR, self-examination is hard, so now Democrats hate Latinos

[brainddeadd]

She's a really nice woman who appears to only hate you, but it's just that she's awkward and has a crush on you

You’ve noticed that Jenna Ortega is kind to everyone—her smile is a staple on set, and she’s genuinely sweet with the cast and crew. But around you, she’s different. Reserved, curt, maybe even a little annoyed at times, she barely seems to tolerate your presence. It stings, especially since you’re pretty sure you’ve never done anything to provoke her.

It becomes something of a mystery, and her behavior only deepens it. You catch her stealing glances when she thinks you’re not looking, or she’ll blush when your shoulders accidentally brush on set. When you laugh with friends, she’s always nearby, watching with a small, guarded smile. You can’t tell if she’s irritated by you or just painfully shy.

One night, after filming a late scene, Jenna’s still around, sitting in a quiet corner with a notebook. Taking a deep breath, you decide to confront her—gently, of course, but you need to know why she seems to have an issue with you.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask, only half-joking, as you sit down across from her.

She looks taken aback, stammering slightly as her cheeks flush. “Hate you?” she repeats. “I don’t— I mean, I could never hate you.”

You blink, not expecting the softness in her voice, or the vulnerability in her eyes as she looks down, fiddling with the corner of her notebook.

“I just…” she starts, then lets out a shy laugh. “I’m really bad at this kind of thing. I guess… I just didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“Why not?” You lean in, the tension thick between you.

Jenna takes a breath, glancing up at you before looking away again. “Because I like you,” she murmurs, so quietly you almost don’t catch it.

You sit there, a little stunned, as her words sink in. She likes you. You’d imagined so many scenarios, but this wasn’t one of them. Jenna Ortega, the Jenna Ortega, had been acting strange around you because she liked you?

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but her eyes drop to the floor, and she starts to fidget with her notebook, clearly embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “That… was probably weird. You didn’t need to know all that. I’ll just—”

“Wait,” you say quickly, reaching out before she can close herself off completely. Your fingers brush over hers, warm and steady, and she looks up at you, her expression uncertain.

You’re close enough now to see the faint freckles across her cheeks, the way her lashes cast soft shadows under her eyes. She doesn’t pull her hand away, and something about that gives you a little burst of courage.

“I thought you hated me,” you admit with a sheepish laugh, realizing how silly it sounds now. “Every time we talked, it felt like you were annoyed or, I don’t know… like I’d done something wrong.”

Jenna winces a little, but her lips twitch into a small, shy smile. “I wasn’t annoyed. It’s just… being around you makes me nervous.” Her eyes dart up to meet yours. “In a good way. Mostly.”

Your heart stumbles over itself at her admission, warmth flooding through you at the vulnerability she’s showing. Her usual confidence is nowhere to be seen, and you can’t help but find it completely endearing.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you say softly, still holding her hand, “you make me nervous, too.”

She blinks at you, a hint of surprise in her eyes, and then her smile widens, slow and sincere. The tension that had lingered between you two, the quiet distance that had once felt so insurmountable, suddenly doesn’t seem so impossible after all.

You squeeze her hand gently. “Do you maybe want to… get coffee sometime? Just the two of us?”

Jenna’s eyes brighten, a spark of excitement she’s no longer trying to hide. “Yeah,” she says, a little breathlessly. “I’d really like that.”

The two of you share a quiet smile, and in that moment, it’s like the world outside disappears. There’s only Jenna, with her soft gaze fixed on you, her fingers still tangled with yours, and the gentle promise of something new blooming between you both.

[grapejuicestyless]

Stupid F-ing Tattoo

JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ both had a few things in common. One, love didn’t exist. And two, they both wanted her dead.

She wasn’t dead, but sometimes, he wished she was.

It was honestly fucked up, there was no silver lining. She hadn’t wronged him, or cheated, or lied. She was as guilty as a fish, and he was the shark. But he still wished she was dead.

Sometimes, JJ wondered if she wished the same thing. If some nights, if she ever were to by chance hear his laughter in a passing moment, maybe with his head hung out the back window of the Twinkie like she used to do, or in a lazy jog away from the cops, he wondered if she wished he would also, drop off the face of the earth to give her some peace.

Then he would remember that even though it didn’t feel like it, he had won. Because she had no peace, and he was certain she never would. While he was up all night wishing her to be gone, she was up all night praying for the same thing.

She often told him that the only things keeping her going were him and her dog, but mostly her dog. An old white dog, a stray she’d taken in when she was merely seven. He was as crusty as they get, and while he and his friends often joked about how gross the old thing was, she happily scratched behind his ears and reminded him of how good he was always.

But the dog was getting old, and JJ had long been extracted from her life. Sometimes he wondered if his prayers meant something, and then he would get on his knees and take them all back in a guilty sob. Because JJ didn’t want her to die, he just hated the fact that he had fallen in love with someone who couldn’t fathom love more than he ever doubted it.

JJ felt like an asshole. What kind of person prays for another persons death? Especially someone like her?

He figured he liked her so much because they were so alike. Like the seasons, they were the coolest winters and the sweltering summer all at once. They were so close, yet so far. Like January and December. Born with the same love and loyalty, but destined to fall apart, prophets forced to be divided.

His finger hovered over her contact every night, but every time he thought of how she would answer, and his tongue would go dry. She would probably only say hello, and he would say it back, and the line would go quiet for a few minutes, just breathing in each others inhales, aligning his breath to hers, and then she would ask him why he was calling. He would say he didn’t know, but he hoped she was well, and she would wish the same for him because she always did, and she always meant it more because she never wished that he was dead. Then, she would ask if it was okay to let him go, and he would ramble about something and how it was all dumb to begin with. She would listen and then the line would go dead. Dead like how he sometimes wanted her.

He couldn’t bear the idea of letting her go again, even if he didn’t realize he had the first time.

They had just gotten matching tattoos. “P4L” poked into their ankles until the skin swelled red and even air burned. They were fucked, and it was a dumb idea.

JJ said it was the stupidest fucking tattoo he’d ever gotten. She had laughed, playfully pushing his arm away and setting the needle down.

“You don’t have any other tattoos.” She reminded him softly, eyes shining in the moonlight. The twinkles reminded him of the north star, and he felt that he too found home in the same way.

“Not yet.” He promised her, his fingers slotting between hers. “I’m gonna get your name tattooed right across my palm so I can hold you eternity.” JJ smiled, proud at his use of larger words. He’d felt like a poet then, smiling from ear to ear at himself, a dork by textbook definition.

“Well, then I’m going to get your name tattooed on my lips, so I have every reason to talk about you.” She promised him, and JJ remembered the look in her eyes, he knew it from the way John B looked at Sarah and the way Pope’s dad looked at his mom. He knew it was love.

He should never have confessed it.

He knew better than anyone that her mothers neglect had beaten her heart black and blue, and her cousins hatred towards her and her friends who had bullied her, he knew that much like him, love was a construct of some sort of fantasy, a promise of forever that could never be fulfilled, because eventually, someone has to leave.

She laughed, and then she cried. She promised JJ that she also loved him, loved him like a dog loved its owner, unwavering and loyal. But there was no way in hell she could ever love him the ways he wanted, and that hurt JJ because he had spent weeks working up the courage to even come to terms with his very real feelings.

“I can’t love you, JJ. I do, but I can’t because I can’t even promise myself that forever. I’ll break my own heart and I’ll blame you.” She had explained with tears streaming down her face. He regretted the way he yelled at her.

They never spoke again. His best friend, and the love of his life, her voice became a concept in his mind, and he swore that he had forgotten the sweetness of her smell. He hated that because that meant he was just like everyone else. Just another person who would miss her when she went.

So, he started wishing death on her. More for himself, until it became a prayer for her. She never laughed anymore, never smiled. When he saw her from afar, he’d noticed that she’d gone back to her friends she hated because suffering is better than loneliness when all you can think about is the quickest way to go.

He saw a girl floating in the ocean the a few days into the summer, her hair resembled Y/n’s and her eyes did too. It was only when he saw the way she seemed to fold herself into the water he knew it was her because only she would have the drive to try and let the ocean swallow her whole.

JJ ran as fast as he could out, wading through the crashing waves until he could wrap his arms around her. She was wet, cold, and limp. A hollow version of the woman she once was. It reminded JJ that she was just a girl, the same age as him, and he once again, felt guilty for ever wishing death on her.

When he laid her in the sand, he knew two things.

One, on her skin, she had another small tattoo scribbled down to memorize her love forever. His name, just two little letters, the same one, poked into her shoulder in the same font as their matching tattoo.

“Stupid fucking tattoo.” He cried, gritting his teeth together, his hands searching her body for any warmth he could cling to, a sign that maybe he hadn’t seen her too late.

The second thing he knew, through his salty tears and guilty heart, was something he prayed he would never have to witness, but something he had always wished for.

His prayers had been answered.