#the moment you dare to say something against the country people come to you all like “why do you hate jewish people”

[nasirsagron]

Best marketing strategy goes to Israel for equating their country/government to a religion

[kagamesayu]

I loved ur bimbo x shidou- you wrote him so well omg- pls make more with shidou <33

shidou ryusei x bimbo!reader pt 2

c/w . implied female reader, smut MDNI, fluff, shidou ryusei is INSANELY CRAZY for you wc: 1.2 k a/n . omai gah my first ask 🥹 TY I WAS SO WORRIED I WROTE HIM TOO TAME!! blonde demon fuck 🥰 ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!! reblogs and comments appreciated ✧*.

pt 1, pt 2

imagine...

shidou who loves putting a hand on your thigh when he drives. he has the music turned down - probably something from 'hide' - while he rests his cheek against his fist, staring and listening to you rambling about a cute puppy you saw.

the hand on your thigh squeezes and massages the flesh between his fingers absentmindedly. though he's looking at you, he probably isn't thinking about too much (when does he ever though) other than the fact that you look so fucking cute.

your shiny lipgloss, the animated way your hands move when you talk about how the puppy just kept hopping about and licking your 'fingies', how your eyes light up and shine.

he taps his pointer finger against your inner thigh twice, getting your attention, before leaning close, lips puckered. "got me all winded up doll~ ya look soo cute right now~!" and you pause, face turning hot before you giggle and peck his lips.

i hc him to have insane road rage, and you can tell by how angry he is by how he squeezes your thigh.

if it's just a long line, he'll squeeze your knee slightly, pinching and playing with the flesh while waiting for the traffic to move.

however if anyone does anything else like cutting in front of you or stopping suddenly, he immediately becomes to furious. his hand grips onto your thigh harder, digging his fingers into your flesh in an almost bruising grip. he does it both to relieve his rage and to keep you from flying too far away - even with the seat belt keeping you safe.

"these fuckers don't know how to fuckin' drive? almost made my baby fly out the damn car!"

he has a crazy look on his face. this is the only circumstance his hand leaves your thigh. it flies up to the horn, blaring it and staring right at the car that dared to put your safety at risk.

and the poor people who cut in front of you are non the wiser of the demon they angered. shidou will purposely drive to be beside the car and look inside with his piercing eyes.

safe to say the offenders will zoom tf away.

and when they do shidou will look straight at you wide smile on his face. 'praise me!' and what else can you do when your man protects you as well as he has?

anyone driving past your car would think there was a dog inside because of all the howling

shidou who clings and whines when he had to leave your side. every so often he has to go overseas for a match, and you almost always forget to request for day offs.

"my dumb little doll, makin' me suffer for their actions..." he always sulks, pouty as he snuggles deep into your neck.

he hates not having you be his side, hates not being to hold you, touch you, smell you, kiss you. he'd rather die than not be able to be with you.

for the days leading up to his departure he clings onto you. early morning runs are delayed cause he stays in bed longer, either with his cock buried deep inside, having you cockwarm him or with his head between your legs enjoying what little time he had left.

and when the time finally comes for him to leave has a few memorabilia to keep him going through the days. pictures of you, promises of calls every morning, afternoon and night, your undies, the usual!

might explore this more it sounds kinda fun ngl

shidou who loves your trampstamp. you'd gotten it while he was out of the country and took a picture of it to cheer him up.

you'd heard some of your girl friends got it and it made their significant others happy, so you did it too!

what could go wrong?

apparently a lot. the moment shidou saw the picture - accompanied by the text "got a new tattoo! isn't it cute?" - he went feral.

the picture of you in front of the mirror with your shirt off, undies pulled low to show him the fresh ink on your skin, killed shidou ryusei.

immediately he books a flight home. he doesn't care if the match is tomorrow, his doll got him a present and he needs to have them in his arms and on his dick right now.

he texted you that he was coming back but you didn't believe him. he has a match tomorrow, there's no way he's coming home!

oh sweetheart.

and you have no one else to blame other than yourself when he shows up ay the front door, dripping in sweat and lust, demanding you show him the tattoo.

the look he has in his eye is exactly the same as when he's on the field. the same look he has when he wants to shoot a goal. when he explodes.

and there is a goal here. right in front of him.

you.

shidou who makes you swatch new lipstick on him. red, pink, purple, green, he wants you to paint the whole damn rainbow on him with your lips.

you can bet the moment you return from a makeup store - using his money too, of course - he's grabbing you and sitting you on his lap on the couch and making you bring out your haul.

and you show it to him like you're a makeup youtube creator, hand behind the product and reading out the names to shidou. and he nods along, smirking and watching your child-like excitement over your newest palette.

"oh my god ryu!! look!!", you pull out a cute pink eyeshadow palette.

"ooh, that looks cute doll."

"it's the trixie mattel 'girl talk' palette!! i just saw it and had to buy it! look this hot pink is to die for!!"

and he thinks your rambling is cute, he really does, but all he's really excited to see is the new lipstick or lipgloss you bought.

"and look at how pink this lipstick is baby!"

you're too oblivious to realise how much he perked up, hands gripping your sides tighter, expectant look on his face as he watches your hands take out the products.

"i got this pink, and this one which is a little darker, and this one that's sparkly~!"

"well? what're you waitin' for then pretty?"

and that's your cue to start unboxing them, putting them on your lips and marking up your man.

30 minutes is all it takes for you to finish trying out all your new lipsticks. but you're not even focused on swatching it anymore.

now he's looming over your panting form, strings of drool connecting your lips. your eyes are teary, mascara dripping down your face as your hands grip onto his blond hair.

his face is littered with pink kisses. on his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his chin, his neck, everything all the way down to his naked chest is covered in kisses.

he's gorgeous. that's all your dumb little brain can think when he kisses you like this.

she's perfect. is all shidou ryusei can think when you kiss him like this.

[sunraies]

a smut where rafe is streaming but reader (she/her) gets horny and is teasing him behind the camera and the conversation get to the point/topic about onlyfans 🙈 AAAAH IM SORRY BUT I DREAMT OF THIS LAST NIGHT AND I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT AHAHAHHAA 🙈 help me out here please 🫶✨ thank youuuuuuuuu

I tried, only proofread once as always with smut

Distraction

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings- +18 MDNI, smut, fingering, reader teasing Rafe. Dirty talk.

As requested above. Rafe is on a live stream, and you distract him.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Throwing the book down on the bed and kicking the blanket of your legs. You sighed in frustration. You had just read some absolute filth and had a million thoughts running through your head with no Rafe to help you.

You could sort out your little problem yourself, but ever since you began dating Rafe, it wasn't the same. You often found it just made you need him more, and that made you even more frustrated.

His voice and laughter carried from the spare room, his streaming room of your shared house, as you dug around in the bedside drawer. You smiled at the buzz of your bullet vibrator before it suddenly stopped.

"Fuck" you cursed at flopped backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating life. You knew your own hand would be no good. "Fucking asshole" you muttered to yourself.

Once you heard his laugh again, you sat up suddenly and came up with a plan to get what you wanted. Stream time be damn, you needed Rafe.

Rafe started his streaming career three years ago. He had started with videos of the crazy shit he and his friends would get up to. From yacht parties to setting off fireworks on the Country Club golf course.  People ate up the crazy rich lifestyle.

Over time, and as his fan base grew, while the videos became wilder, they also became calmer. Sometimes, he could sit live in front of the camera and just chat. They still loved him.

"Yeah, so we won't. We won't be. " Rafe stumbled on whatever he was explaining as you stood in the doorway. You had caught his attention the moment you leant against it.

'Hi baby,' you mouthed, stood in only his white shirt and lacy black lingerie.

He shook his head, trying to regain focus on what question he had been asked. He was thanking all the gods that the camera was the other way round so no one could see how, drop dead gorgeous you looked.

"So, as I was saying. Top won't be sticking a firework up his ass, again. " He tried to explain as comments flooded the screen, everyone wondering what had suddenly him so distracted.

You sent him a wicked smirk as you trialled a hand down your body, right to the panty line. His eyes roamed your body with your hand before they snapped up to yours, daring you to do it.

"What am I looking at?" He read a comment aloud before smirking."Well, I'm looking at the most gorgeous site on the planet"

You felt your cheeks heat up, but didn't want to back down as your fingers slowly dipped below the panties and began circling your clit. You bit your lip so as not to moan while your other hand cupped your breast, playing with your nipple through the thin fabric.

"Yes. It's my girl. " He kept eye contact with you before raising an eyebrow as you frowned. He knew it wasn't giving you any relief.

His followers knew of you. He never kept you a secret, but your face was never in his videos. He wanted you to have some privacy, but sometimes you were in a photo or in the background of a house video. Most of them seemed to love you, too.

"Come here, baby." He held a hand out to you

You hesitated before walking over and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He covered you the best he could and made sure that your face was cut out. Luckily, the only part visible was your torso.

"I think I'm needed for something. But you'll have a new video by the end of the week. " He spoke to the camera again. "Three words, foam, pool and party"

He reached over to stop the stream before comments asking for only fans videos with you and saying how amazing you looked, caught his attention.

"What do you think, baby?" He whispered in your ear, squeezing you tighter, his hand holding you thigh. He made sure your legs weren't visible as his thumb brushed against your lace covered core. "Would you join me on only fans?"

You knew he had one. It was something he often got you to help with, but you had always been behind the camera.

All you could was nod before he placed a quick kiss on your neck.

"She said yes." He smiled at the camera. "Maybe there'll be a video up later. Bye"

He quickly shut everything down before humming and kissing your neck again, peppering from your jaw to your shoulder with kisses.

"Would you really like that, pretty girl?" He gently run his fingers over your folds, feeling how soaked you were. "You like the idea of people watching while I make you come undone"

"Yes, Rafe." You breathed, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he forced your legs open wider. His hand  harshly played with your clit, making you jolt forward.

"Let's get you warmed up, baby." He continued to tease you before slipping in two fingers, pumping them slowly. You gasped and rocked into his hand while his other hand played with your breast.

"I want them witnessing how you scream my name and to hear you cry when you desperately want to cum. My good girl" 

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 3

It's been so long since I updated this you probably should go back and read parts 1 and 2.

Steve gets to the competition and tries to settle his nerves.

Part 1 Part 2

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The trip to Chicago was a hard one. As much as Steve just wanted Eddie to come it would have looked suspicious, so Wayne and Jeff came too. Steve had been hoping for time with Eddie alone in a big city where they could get lost and spend time just doing couple-y things, as it was a school event it would look suspicious if only Eddie came.

So he grudgingly accepted the support of Jeff and Wayne to see him go up against this region of the country’s best swimmers. If all went well, then they would all get scholarships and go on to nationals. If it didn’t, then they could at least say they made it this far.

When Steve got to the school he realized how much he really hadn’t thought the trip through. The school was sending the four of them and both coaches to Chicago in a fucking school bus. He would be bunking with Ezra while Lyle and Nick would share a room. Wayne grinned when he realized that he would get a hotel room all to himself. Eddie just groaned.

So the five hour drive to Chicago was dreadful instead of laughing with Eddie and Jeff, he ended up in an argument with Lyle whether Depche Mode was alternative rock or new age pop. Steve was firmly in the alt rock camp. He was about to throw hands when he realized that he had heard a similar argument between Brian and Jeff about whether hair bands could be considered metal or not. In the end? It didn’t matter because something could be two things at once.

Suddenly he started laughing and Lyle looked at him like he was crazy.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a grin. “I just realized that the argument was pointless because they can both. Some of the stuff can be classified as new age pop while others are more alt rock. Why argue about it? We both like them. Who cares if we don’t agree what genre they are?”

Nick and Lyle glanced at each other while the coaches snickered to themselves. Ezra tilted his head and smiled fondly at Steve. Steve looked up to find Ezra’s eyes linger on him for a moment longer than necessary. He flushed under the sudden attention and ducked his head. When he looked up again, Ezra was talking to Lyle about The Cure.

All through the rest of the trip to Chicago, there were times Steve was sure Ezra was looking at but he didn’t dare look up to confirm it. If he hadn’t been with Eddie, Steve would have been sure that Ezra was flirting with him and sure he would have mocked his co-captain for being queer. Now though? Steve could be imagining the longing looks and blatant yearning. Because he had to be careful not to accidentally out himself before he graduated.

They got to the hotel and checked in. The first thing Ezra and the other boys wanted to do was check out hotel’s swimming pool, as if they weren’t going to spending enough time drenched in chlorinated water as it was. So Steve waved them off and said he was going to grab some dinner and catch up with them later.

He walked into the hotel dinning area and breathed a sigh of relief. There at one of the tables in the back was three of his favorite people, Eddie, Wayne, and Jeff. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the boys on the swim team. Because of course he did. He just didn’t consider them to be friends.

“Hey,” he called out and they wave him over, allowing him to slip past the hostess to their table.

He sat close to Eddie with Jeff and Wayne on the other side of the table, picking up a menu.

“You guys order yet?” he asked, distractedly.

Jeff shook his head. “We were waiting for you. Eddie ordered you a Hi-C though.”

Steve smiled at Eddie. “Thanks.”

Eddie shoved his hair in mouth as he looked away shyly. “It was the least I could do since you had to take the giant bread loaf from hell.”

Steve snorted. “It wasn’t as bad as it usually was as there was only six of us, but yeah. It was a hot as the devil’s anus.”

Jeff barked out a laugh. “Holy hell, dude. Warn a man, I could have been taking a drink.”

Wayne just rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, the waiter arrived and they ordered their meals.

They chatted happily until they finished their meals. Steve and Eddie slipped away for moment before Steve had to make it back to his room for “curfew.”

“I love having you here, sunshine,” Steve murmured, their bodies pressed together in one long line. “I feel I can take on the world because my real family is here rooting for me.”

Eddie kissed him gently on the lips. “And we’ll always will, baby. Okay?”

Steve nodded.

“Do you think Jeff would be pissed if we kicked him out of our hotel room tonight?” Eddie asked with a feral grin.

“Yes,” Steve said with a giggle. “He would be absolutely livid, you menace.”

Eddie pouted. “But, sweetheart...”

Steve kissed him fiercely. “I’m not say no to you fucking me into some horrible hotel mattress, all I’m saying is ask your best friend nicely to go site seeing with Uncle Wayne tomorrow afternoon after the first meet so I don’t have to look into those big brown puppy dog eyes of Jeff’s and tell him I went along with your madcap plan.”

Eddie cackled. “Yeah, all right. That’s fair.”

“I’ve got to get to my hotel room before Coach Hall does a room check,” Steve murmured. “I’ll see you at the meet?”

Eddie nodded. “Love you, baby.”

Steve kissed him again. “Love you, too, Eds.”

****

Steve got back to his hotel room just under the gun. He had just toed off his shoes when Coach Hall knocked on their door. Ezra stood up and let him in.

Coach Hall turned to Steve. “Don’t think I didn’t see you make a mad dash for your room, young man. Tomorrow I expect to see you in room before the curfew and not at the curfew. Do you understand me?”

Steve nodded. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“Our practice time is at 6am sharp,” he continued. “I will see both of you there on the dot.”

Both boys nodded.

Coach Hall eyed them warily, but nodded curtly. He left to meet Coach Burton who had been checking on Lyle and Nick out in the hallway.

Ezra closed the door behind him with satisfying thud. It wasn’t slammed, the coaches couldn’t claim that, but it sounded with a finality that pleased Steve to no end.

“What’s the point of having the curfew at ten if they’re going to make us be in our rooms before that?” Ezra asked. “It’s fucking ridiculous. You made it before curfew. That’s all that should matter.”

Steve blushed from the way Ezra defended him. “Thanks, man. I think they’re more nervous then we are about tomorrow. Hopefully after the individuals tomorrow they’ll feel better about our chances.”

Ezra shrugged. “I guess, but it’s still bullshit Hall took it out on you. Burton is usually the hardass, not Hall.”

Steve nodded. “Well, we better get to sleep before they start bitching about our lights being on.”

And as if on cue, they heard Burton yell, “Lights out!!”

Ezra and Steve looked at each other and then started to laugh.

They hurried to get into their pajamas and hit the light. They each crawled into their separate twin beds and laid there looking at the ceiling in the dark.

“Do you think you’ll be scouted for any of the major colleges?” Ezra asked, rolling over on his side to face Steve.

Steve tucked his arm under his head. “God I hope so,” he murmured. “Otherwise, I’m not getting in.”

Steve couldn’t see Ezra’s expression in the dark, but he could hear his confusion when he asked, “What do you mean?”

“My concussion pretty much tanked my grades,” Steve explained. “I am barely passing my classes and I have to get at least a C average to get into those schools. Which I’m not even close to hitting right now.”

“So getting to regionals is really important for you, huh?” Ezra asked. “I hope they scout you, man. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbled. He thought about all the things he wanted to do with his life. And how he thought, not too long ago, that he would just work for his dad, get married, have six kids, and die.

But now? A future without Eddie doesn’t seem like any kind of future at all. He thought of Eddie’s band, wondering if they would make it. Maybe after high school instead of college the two of them should just runaway together.

It all seemed jumbled up in his head and with all those whirling thoughts, Steve drifted off to sleep.

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @counting-dollars-counting-stars @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @y4r3luv @acingthecounts @cryptid-system

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and Cream Presents:

✨Eddie Can’t Breathe✨

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Masterlist

Notes: This is set sometime before Chapter 4 and meant to elude to Chapter 5… which teeny spoiler alert 🤣🤣🤣 I feel like I need to reread chapters before I make these mini-chapters but I like never do because once it's done its DONE okay. P.S Eddie knows how to Country line dance. I promise you he knows the entire Footloose 2011 scene

“You’re uh, hittin’ that bag a little hard don’t you think?” 

Bobby comes into the workout room, setting his towel and water bottle down. He crosses the black mat flooring to Eddie and holds the punching bag still for a moment 

“Am I?” He asks, spinning around and kicking it, sending Bobby stumbling backward a bit. 

“Because people normally do that,” He says, standing in front of the bag now. Eddie rolls his eyes and paces around, shaking out his arms 

“Can I help you?” He asks, sass dripping like venom

“What’s going on, you’ve been a bit on edge lately,” he asks straight out, crossing his arms over his chest 

“Nothing,” Eddie says just as firmly as Bobby asked. Bobby sighs a little, softening his stance

“Come on, you can talk to me if you need to. I’m here for you” 

“I don’t need to talk. I’m fine.” He dismisses him completely walks over to another freestanding bag and starts punching again. Bobby watches him for a bit, he knows Eddie can fight, he’s seen him boxing before. But he’s not being careful, he’s not aiming right. Not like he normally does 

“I think it’s time for you to hit the showers”

“I think it’s time for you to leave me alone” 

“Eddie-“

“Can you just leave me alone?? Can you kindly fuck off?” 

“Edmundo Diaz” 

“Don’t- don’t fucking full name me okay. I’m- I need space, can you give me some fucking space??” He looks like a caged animal as he paces again, shaking his arms out like he’s trying to shake off his nerves 

“Eddie this isn’t like you”

“This is like me! This is me, Bobby. All I’m doing is hitting a fucking bag! Would you rather I was hitting something else?”

“What if Y/N walks in? You know she comes to the station all the time”

“Don’t bring her into this don’t you dare say her fucking name”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“I don’t want your fucking help Bobby!” He stomps towards him, even when he’s seething he’s fast. He shoves Bobby backward into the bag and yanks his gloves off, throwing them to the ground. Bobby doesn’t miss his bloody knuckles. 

He leaves the gym, slamming the door so hard the glass shakes. 

“Hey, hey Eddie what’s-“ Buck tries to stop him but he just shoves him out of his way too. He needs a cold shower, a cold shower will fix things. 

The cool water flows over his body, he watches it swirl down the drain as he rests his head against his arm…just counting the tiles on the floor. The water isn’t helping as much as he’d like it to be but it’s something

He shouldn’t have yelled at Bobby like that, but he just doesn’t get it. No one gets it. No one’s ever gonna get it. Not even you. 

You. 

That’s a nice thought… a dream really. The beach was a dream, kissing you was a dream. There was just no way you could be real. He didn’t… he didn’t deserve you. Not with the things he was hiding, and even when you found out he had PTSD (No. He fucking doesn’t.) you gave him space to breathe and didn’t pry. 

He doesn’t know. Things are just…getting tight lately. The corners of his face are hot all the time, sometimes it feels like he’s not even breathing even if he is…fuck maybe he needs an inhaler or something… that’s probably it. An inhaler would be wonderful. 

It wouldn’t stop him from waking up in a cold sweat.

It wouldn’t stop the shaking hands. 

It wouldn’t… stop the recent nightmares. 

But you did. 

The night you slept in his bed was the first time in the last couple of weeks he’d gotten a good night's sleep and he wished you’d stay he just wished you’d move in already. 

Someone clears their throat behind him and he jumps nearly 10 feet in the air. He spins around, ready to deck whoever snuck up on him 

“Oh. Shit, god, really?!” He splashes Buck with water and turns back around, pouring shampoo into his hair 

“Apologize to Bobby” He crosses his arms over his chest 

“Hell no”

“Apologize to Dad right now” 

“First of all, You’re such a baby. Second of all, I’m literally in the shower” He rinses his hair out, before squirting some conditioner in, his hair wasn’t fluffy and perfect without a little hydration 

“He’s just trying to help Eddie you know that! Bobby loves us. And we love him…and…and you know I can’t stand to see any of us fighting.” 

“We aren’t fighting” He turns around, pouring soap onto his pink (from Buck) loofah. He methodically washes his body, avoiding certain areas while Buck is legitimately watching him shower. 

“I know what you said to him. And he’s right. Something’s off Eddie. And it’s okay to be off man it’s okay if something is wrong… but it’s not okay to take it out on your family. Especially when they’re just trying to love you”

“I don’t want-“ 

Buck shoves Eddie back against the wall and glares at him as he steps into the shower, his clothes are getting soaked 

“You say that sentence and I will literally drown you. I don’t know what’s happening but if you-“ He choked up a little and Eddie sighed, letting his head fall hard against the shower wall

“We love you, Eddie. I love you.” 

“I love you too Buck,” He says, pulling him into a hug. He pats his back firmly, and Buck hugs him back, rubbing his back. He sighs into his arms and shakes his head 

“We’re family Eddie…let us help you” 

“Uhhhhh” 

Eddie’s eyes pop open as he hears the click of a camera 

“Whaaat are you two doing? Isn’t he dating Y/N?!” 

Buck spins around, still holding Eddie. Chimney snaps another photo of Eddie’s bare ass 

“He is dating her! I’m just telling him we love him and support him! He needs to know that!”

“Oh that’s cute they finally got together… and you do need to remember that Eddie”

“I’m not!-“ He shoves Buck out of the shower and hides his body 

“I’m not dating her!!” 

Eddie lays on his couch just staring up at the ceiling, he’s kinda bored, kinda sleepy. Kinda lonely. He’d spaced out a while ago, he’s not sure how long, can’t even remember what he was thinking about, but eh oh well. Now he was just itching for attention, or at least something more stimulating than staring at the ceiling and finding little shapes in the popcorn 

“Hello?” 

You pick up on the second ring and it’s like everything slows down to a crawl. He takes a deep breath, like he can smell your sweet strawberries and vanilla through the phone instantly soothing his nerves. 

“Hey Sugar cube…Whatcha up to?” He picks at the hem of his boxers, just toying with the little strings from the old material 

“Just in bed playing games, kinda too lazy to get up. What about you?”

“On the couch, staring at the ceiling” 

You giggle and he hears you shuffle a little like you’re changing positions

“Well aren’t we a couple of party animals” 

“Oh yeah we go hard, what are you wearing to this party?” 

You snort “Some random old t-shirt and a pair of boxers I found. You?” 

He blushes a little when you ask “I know we were being playful but it just sounds dirty when I say just a pair of boxers” 

You start giggling and he hears you shift again, you’ve gotten off the bed “Wait-wait please send me a pic, let’s make this as awful as possible” 

His phone beeps and he puts you on speaker to look at the notification, it’s a photo from you, you’re standing in the mirror making the dumbest face he’s ever seen and doing a silly little pose it makes him laugh and he rolls off the couch 

“Okay yeah” he goes to the bathroom and thinks for a minute 

“I’m not sure how to do this” 

“Oh my god, you’re actually going to?” You gasp and he chuckles 

“Hell yes. Just call me Chadford” 

He sends you the picture and you burst out laughing. He’s totally flexing, his hand under his chin as he bites his lip

“Please!” You scream and he laughs with you, leaving the bathroom and going to his bedroom now 

“Wait I have one more” He gets in bed, sending you a picture of his bare torso, and his boxers. You’re supposed to see the outline of his cock and this is supposed to be a joke…but a teeny tiny little part of him hopes you actually like it just a little 

He knows you’ve opened it when you start cackling, it’s captioned “You up?” And that just makes you laugh harder. He decides to hit the FaceTime button and you answer immediately, all he can see is the ceiling for a minute but he can hear you absolutely wheezing and it just makes him laugh 

“You did not FaceTime me!” you gasp, trying to catch your breath as you finally turn the phone towards you, you’re laying on your side, your cheeks flushed from laughing, your hair all messy from the pillows 

“I thought it would be funnier”

“It was, it so was” both of your giggles slowly die out as you two calm down. Now you’re just lying in bed together, panting softly 

“I don’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” Eddie says, smiling at you. You feel like that little light at the end of the tunnel right now… he just has to get there and he’ll be safe 

“With Buck around? That’s a surprise. Besides I’m pretty sure we died that hard at Athena’s party” you giggle, getting comfy with a pillow snuggled to your chest 

“Are you alone?” He’s not sure why he asked

“Yeah! I think Buck’s on a date or surfing. I don’t actually remember what he said” 

“Some cousin you are” He jokes and you scoff, setting up the phone so it’s on you and you can play your switch again 

“Some boyfriend you are, shouldn’t you know where he is?” 

You’ve got him there. 

“Shut up, brat” 

You flick off the camera and go back to playing your game and he smirks 

“You want some company?” 

You perk up a little, looking at the camera 

“You wanna come over?” 

“Yeah, why not? We can game together, or game together separately” 

“Okay, yeah!”You sit up, grabbing the phone “hurry up” 

“I’ll be over in a few minutes” He gets out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants from the floor and a t-shirt. Picking up his phone off the bed, he grabs his keys and wallet from his dresser and goes into the kitchen, grabbing a package of popcorn and cookies 

“You never show up empty-handed,” you say and he smiles as he slips some shoes on and leaves the house

“I don’t make the rules I just follow them”

He sets his phone up on the stand and buckles in, you’re laid on your stomach now, looking up occasionally as he drives. He hums to himself, watching the road while you watch him. Is it weird to think he’s a sexy driver? He can’t drive for shit you both know that, Buck likes to tease him for it. But… he just looks so attractive, one hand on the wheel, the other holding his head with his elbow propped up in the window 

“You’re staring sugar cube”

His voice breaks through your little haze and you blink a couple of times 

“Oh” your cheeks flush “I kinda zoned out” 

“It’s fine, kinda cute when you’re staring anyway. Makes me feel all shy” He teases and you shake your head, ignoring him 

“Are you almost here?” 

“Why? You that eager to see me?” 

Kinda. 

“No, so I can open the door” you stick your tongue out at him 

“I have a key, brat. I’ll just let myself in” it makes him weak how playful you’re being with him, watching you lying in bed just playing games is so domestic. He would have had you come over and do it in his but he didn’t want to make you leave the house. 

Eddie hangs up a few minutes later and you whine, going to call him back when you hear the front door open 

“Just me sugar cube” He calls out while slipping off his shoes 

“You want the popcorn now or later?” 

“Now please” 

He comes upstairs a couple of minutes later, his hands full and you rush over to help him. You grab the popcorn bowl, set it down, and take one of the sodas he brought up. He tosses the package of cookies on the bed and lays down, stretching out and putting his soda on the nightstand 

“C’mere sugar cube” He holds his arms out and you blush, straddling his lap and leaning down to kiss him. He sighs into the kiss, his hands trailing up your sides gently. He looks at you as you pull away, admiring how pretty you look sitting on top of him 

“I missed you… haven’t seen you in like a week” He says, his hands sliding up under your T-shirt. He lifts it a little, tugging at the boxers you’re wearing 

“Can’t stay out of my clothes huh?” 

You lift the shirt, looking at them “What are you talking about?” 

“These are mine” 

Your mouth drops open and he snickers, smacking your thigh and pushing you off his lap gently so he can sit up “looks damn good on you too” your cheeks flush and you fall back on the bed 

“How am I only wearing your clothes?! Out of all the clothes Buck owns! I always pick yours!” 

“Kinda like it was meant to be huh?” He smirks and grabs his switch, pulling you back into his side 

“Maybe if you’re good I’ll give you my shirt” 

“I don’t want your stinky shirt” You say, cuddling into his side and continuing your game 

“Stinky? I literally just got this from the laundry, you saw me” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true” You mumble as you run after a cherry blossom petal 

“Oh, so that’s how you wanna play? Yeah okay” He takes your switch from you and before you can even protest he lays over you, rubbing his body on you 

“Eddie!!” You laugh and try to push at him, but he suddenly pins your hips with his, he takes your hands and pins those above your head too 

“Something wrong? Don’t like my delicious cologne?” He teases and you try to squirm out from underneath him 

“Quit it ya perv!” You tell him and he gasps dramatically, feigning hurt 

“Perv?? Oh I’ll show you perv-“ He holds your hands with one hand and starts to trail his other hand up your torso, he lifts your shirt with it, reveling in the way he’s revealing your body 

“Eddie! Quit it!” You buck your hips into him and he groans, feeling you brush against his cock. His lifts your shirt over your bra, it’s pretty and lacy… he leans forward, kissing the valley between your breasts before dragging his hips along yours. 

You let out a shuddering sigh and he looks up at you, licking a long stripe over your breast and placing wet kisses along the top

“Just so you know, Fanark is my safe word” 

You snort and look away from him, giggling into the pillow 

“You mean like from Garfield and friends??” 

“That’s exactly it” he laughs into your chest and lets your wrists go, your hands immediately find their way to his hair, tugging him up to your face. He pulls the boxers you’re wearing down some and smirks at your cute matching set.

“You’re such an idiot” You giggle as you kiss him, he grinds against you again and you both moan against each other's lips 

“Says the idiot who understood the reference” 

Sex in Buck’s bed is a complete no-go and that’s something you both know because honestly, it would probably be so awkward when he came home… but it’s so tempting, the tension rising tenfold between the two of you.

Though you both agree you’re not ready for that step, Eddie keeps rolling his hips against yours as you make out and you’re not stopping him. 

“It’s just messing around” He mumbles as he kisses your neck and you breathlessly agree with him. You feel his hard cock straining through his underwear, the size of him alone is enough to soak your panties. He toys with them a little before pulling them to the side and grinding on your clit like that. 

“Fuck, What I wouldn’t do for just the tip” He pants and you nod along, agreeing with him again… just the tip… that’s as far as you two would go…. 

Your hands slide over his shoulders and you drag your nails over his back, his hips stutter for a second and he thrusts against you this time, his hips snapping into yours a couple of times. 

“D-do that again” His voice sounds soft and broken and it’s hot. You do as he asks, whimpering his name while digging your nails in a little harder this time, he moans into your neck and you feel him start to pull his boxers down…

Suddenly the front door starts to unlock and you two jump apart. He gets up from the bed and slides down the railing, he’s in the bathroom before Buck even gets the door fully open and you’re left there, laid out on the bed wondering how the hell he moved that fast. 

“I��m home! Eddie are you here??” 

You rush to fix yourself and the bed up, setting everything up to hide any evidence of what you were doing 

“Just in the bathroom!” You hear him call out as you’re fighting your bra back in the proper place 

“Oh, Cousinkins” Buck says in a singsong voice and you come to the top of the stairs 

“Hi! What’s up?” You try to act as nonchalant as possible, watching Buck go into the kitchen and start getting ingredients for a smoothie. 

“I’ve got to go do a few errands, you and Eddie wanna join me? Or are you cool hanging here with him”

“We can just hang here, hey why don’t you bring home pizza, I’ll spend the night” Eddie walks out of the bathroom, answering for you.

“That sounds fun! What were you guys doing?” 

“Just animal crossing… he literally only just got here about 15 minutes ago,” you say, coming down the stairs and walking past Eddie, he watches as you walk, biting his lip at the sway of your hips. Buck flips him off as you’re bent over in the fridge and Eddie rolls his eyes playfully. 

“You seem… winded” He says to Eddie, who just shrugs in return 

“He literally ran downstairs to go to the bathroom” you pull out extra smoothie stuff for yourself before dumping Buck’s in a reusable cup and putting the lid on 

“Well don’t you two just have all the answers” he eyes you suspiciously and takes the cup, watching you wash out the blender and start your smoothie 

“You sound so suspicious” You giggle as he grabs his keys off the table, his eyes narrowed as he makes a little I’m watching you motion with his hand and leaves again. 

“Well that was freaking close” Eddie sighs loudly as he goes back up to the bed.

“Too close” you watch him walk up the stairs, staring at his ass and biting your lip. 

“Besides our first time needs to be at my house, in my bed” he teases you, practically already planning exactly how it’s gonna go. His phone pings from the bedside table and he picks it up

His head falls back as he busts out laughing, Buck has sent him a link to a new bed set and a picture from the cameras in his house that just capture Eddie on top of something from the corner of the room. 

Neither of them tell you, and the bedding comes a couple days later. 

Bobby receives a text later that night, a picture of you and Buck asleep on the couch together. He smiles and shakes his head at the two of you passed out. A couple of minutes later another text pops up and all it says is 

“I’m sorry, Dad”

[meetmyothersouls]

Could you write an imagine for Jonah where you’re at a party and you and him brought separate dates, and maybe you play truth or dare or like some kind of kinky card game and somehow you and Jonah kiss or something?

Enjoy!

Truth or Dare

Warnings: frat party, drinking

You drown out the sounds of laughter from the den in what you imagine is the filthiest frat house you’ve ever been in. You finish off the last of your Sprite as you look at the obnoxious pictures of frat boys. There’s footsteps behind you. You cringe, but pretend not to hear them. You hoped you lost your date, Paul, when you ditched him at the spin the bottle game one of the girls with giant tits suggested.

Before you have a chance to hide behind the sofa, you feel him tap on your shoulder. You sigh, accepting your fate, you just hope he doesn’t try to kiss you again. You turn, and when your eyes slide up to meet his, you have almost stumble backward. It’s not Paul, but somehow it’s worse.

It’s Jonah. The guy you’ve had an embarrassing crush on since high school. You secretly hoped coming to a college completely across the country, you could start over new where no one knew you. But of course, you couldn’t get off that easy. And it had to be Jonah.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Jonah says, a hint of a smile on his face and in his voice.

“I keep saying that about you too.” You expect him to casually finish the conversation and leave. But he sits down. “You’re not playing spin the bottle?”

“Never cared for that one, really. Why aren’t you out there?”

“All those people are disgusting,” you blurt out. Jonah practically chokes on the drink he’s trying to swallow. You smile. You made him laugh.

“What even Paul?”

“Especially Paul.” You’re both silent for a moment. You focus on the sound of Jonah’s ring tapping against the beer bottle he’s holding. “Didn’t you come here with uh…” you snap, trying to get the name to come to you.

“Emily,” Jonah finishes for you.

“Ah, yes. Emily.”

Jonah points to the ceiling and as if on queue, a repetitive thumping and moaning sound sounds from above.

“Oh. That’s fucked up.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t like her much anyway,” he makes eye contact with you and your stomach flips. You have to look down at your knees. You chew the inside of your cheek. Anything to keep yourself grounded.

“We could play our own game,” Jonah says.

You swallow hard. “Spin the bottle?”

“No. No. Something more a long the lines of….truth or dare.”

You want to run away. This cannot be happening. But you can’t say no. There’s no way you can turn down this opportunity.

“Okay.”

“You first,” Jonah says, he’s turned on the sofas now, facing you.

“Okay,” your breath shakes. “Truth or dare.”

Jonah breathes deeply then out. “Truth.”

“Why’d you bring Emily as your date?” You ask, shocked the question came out so easily.

“She made me. She wanted me to bring her as my date so that she could make her ex jealous. And…I guess it worked.”

You nod. Satisfied with his answer.

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” you say, before you can talk yourself out of it.

“Oooh.” He taps his finger tips together and looks around the room. “I dare you, to sit right here.” Jonah taps the seat right next to him.

“I’m already sitting on the sofa,” you say confused.

“Yeah, but I want you closer.”

You wonder if he can hear your heart beating. He must be able to, you can feel it in your ears, in your finger tips. You scoot over, until you’re sitting so close to him your thighs touch. You swallow hard and turn to face him. He’s even hotter up close. “Your turn,” he says. You can feel his breath dance across your face.

“Uhm, truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

You let out a shaky breath. And Jonah’s thumb grazes your fingers. You almost apologize and move it away, but you force yourself to keep it there. He swipes his thumb over your fingers in a purposeful, repetitive motion, as if to make it clear the gesture is not an accident. He’s wanted to to touch you. You’re so distracted by him you can’t think of anything to ask him.

“Uhm, I-I can’t think of-”

“I’ve wanted you for so long, y/n. I think about you every day. Every night.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his. You can’t believe he’s saying these words to you. How many nights you’ve spent thinking about him just to know he’s been thinking about you. How many fake scenarios you’ve made up in your head between the two do you.

“Truth or dare,” you ask him, even though it’s his turn.

“Dare,” if he cares he doesn’t show it.

“Kiss me.”

Tags: @danielabetancourth @luna2034 @wandamaximoffbae @twinkledinkleg-blog @anonyymoouussssss @nonsensical-nonsence @paramorelvrr @thedonswife13 @miniemonie2001 1 @jonahhauer-kingg

[notaplaceofhonour]

Hey @frankujito, what exactly about Holocaust denial, Khazar theory, and calls for the genocide of Jews puts antisemitism in scarequotes? Because that’s what I’m talking about, not mere criticism of Israel.

Don’t bother answering, though. The question is rhetorical and you’re already blocked. And I will continue blocking anyone else who denies or seeks to whitewash the antisemitism of these things or anyone who espouses them.

But I thought I’d highlight how this response illustrates just how blatant and obvious the lies are that some leftists will tell about Jewish leftists who dare criticize the antisemitism around them.

For instance, they claim I made no mention of Israel’s crimes, when in fact I very obviously did—more than once in that post. I even start the post they’re replying to with an acknowledgment that Israel abuses the Palestinians, and every sentence that follows takes as a given that Israel is in the wrong in how it treats the Palestinian people and commits crimes against them. I even say:

Oppose Bibi Netanyahu. Oppose Israel’s far-right, authoritarian government. Oppose its apartheid policies. Oppose its violent abuse of the Palestinian people. That isn’t antisemitic.

I go into further criticisms of Israel in greater detail elsewhere (a country I have never been to and have no ties to, and lord willing will never have to flee to, but apparently need to constantly be criticizing simply because I’m Jewish).

I should not have to make an itemized list of every specific crime the Israeli government has ever done in the moment just to talk about how the left shouldn’t embrace Holocaust denial and bombing civilians—just as I don’t need to list out every crime of Japanese Imperialism to talk about how the US bombing Japan was bad, or list out every crime the US has committed to talk about how the OKC bombing was bad, or list out every crime of the Catholic Church to discuss how Protestant anti-Catholicism is often rooted in bigotry. But you know as well as I do that you would not have been willing to listen even if I had sat there and listed out literally every crime that has ever been committed by the state of Israel or even every Jew in all of history.

My post about the left’s embrace of Hamas’ antisemitism was not made “the moment Palestinians were afforded a chance of freedom”. It wasn’t even made the moment some on the American and European Left started embracing antisemitic conspiracy theories like the Khazar theory and claims of Israeli “deep pockets” and control of mass media (side note: I wrote this line before I saw that this person continued on their tirade, in which they invoked exactly these tropes from the Protocols). It is only after YEARS of escalating and increasingly blatant calls for & acts of violence against Jews caused by the rhetoric I am criticizing that I made that post.

I could not have been more measured and nuanced without just shrugging my shoulders and saying “eh, what’s a little Holocaust Denial?”. But this person using the word “nuance” as a pejorative, as something I somehow shouldn’t have been engaging in, speaks volumes about where this attitude comes from. Some people just do not want to wrestle with the fact that a decades-long conflict between the corrupt governments of two oppressed peoples is going to be complex and complicated to engage with, and they will eagerly flatten it into a black-and-white, us-vs-them battle between the virtuous heroes and the dastardly evil villains.

And when anyone engages with this complexity, it is easier to lie and say they didn’t say what they said or that they don’t actually mean it, so you can sort everyone into “the good camp” and “the bad camp”. This Campist logic is exactly the same way of thinking that leads some people on the left to deny the atrocities of the USSR and/or side with modern Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Don’t fall for it.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Sick of Running

Requested Here! (Angst Version)

Characters: Victor Vale, Mitch Turner, Sydney Clarke, Dol

Summary: Victor gets sick while searching for EON, and when he doesn't answer the phone, Sydney and Mitch come to his rescue.

Warnings: sickfic, fluffy comfort, spoilers for Vicious, Vic is a softie for Dol and Sydney

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Victor Vale Masterlist | Request Info

“Which one will this be? Thirty?” Sydney asks, patting Dol’s head as she speaks.

“I don’t know. I lost track after the third or fourth state,” Mitch answers.

“It’s not about the number of hotels,” Victor answers as he enters. “The point is that you’re safe and no one knows where we are.”

Sydney nods, turning her attention to the window after Dol leaves her to stand at Victor’s side. She whispers, “Traitor” under her breath but doesn’t do anything about Dol’s increasing favoritism.

“Where to now?” Mitch asks. “Assuming we are still leaving soon?”

“Tomorrow.” Victor looks at Sydney as he adds, “Since someone had to see the sights and take us out in the open.”

“You agreed,” Sydney reminds him.

Victor sighs. He tried to turn her down, but when she asked to see something she’d only ever heard of on television, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. So, with a slight nudging from his dial, he took her out and fought a smile at the sight of her enthusiasm. Victor has drug her and Mitch all over the country, and that moment made it seem worth it.

“I know, I know. I don’t regret it, Sydney,” Victor adds quietly. “But we need to move on. We can’t get comfortable, that just blinds us to the risks.”

“Another suite, I presume?” Sydney asks, a terrible faux accent making her feel fancy enough for the 1,000-square-foot hotel room preference Victor seems to have.

Victor rolls his eyes as Mitch laughs. Living on the run, looking over your shoulder every few steps, isn’t easy or fun. But Mitch and Sydney have a way of making it tolerable (dare Victor say, enjoyable).

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s dark outside when Victor wakes up, the small lamp in the kitchenette giving a faint glow that allows him to see. His throat is burning, like a flame is fighting to consume him from the inside out. Sitting up with a painful swallow, Victor gauges the pain. It undoubtedly hurts and will bother him until it goes away, but he decides it isn’t enough to justify numbing the pain.

Victor tilts his head against the plush cushion behind him but can’t go back to sleep. Fighting a groan, he stands and makes his way to the kitchenette, freezing when he knocks a stack of disposable travel cups over. Glancing over his shoulder, Victor smiles to himself when Dol walks out of Sydney’s open door, his head low as he curls up beside Victor’s feet.

Turning back to the microwave, Victor starts preparing a cup of water for tea. He’s never had someone around to care for him when he’s sick, so he learned how to do it himself long ago. 

“Vic?” Sydney asks, walking into the living area as she rubs her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Hey,” Victor replies quietly. “I couldn’t sleep; just making some tea. Do you want some?”

Sydney stands beside him, rising to her tiptoes to look over his shoulder. “Is there any hot chocolate left?”

Victor hums as he opens the small container, nodding to save his voice and avoid the pain of talking. Adding another cup of water to the microwave, he prepares Sydney’s drink first.

“Why does Dol like you more than me?” Sydney asks, an exaggerated pout as she crosses her legs under her on the couch.

Shrugging, Victor walks to her side with both drinks in hand. He gives Sydney a warning look, which would scare anyone else, but she knows he’s just telling her the cup is hot.

“Maybe he likes tall people,” Victor jokes.

Sydney gently shoves his shoulder, moving back as Dol settles on the floor between her knees and the table. Victor takes his first sip of the tea, nearly burning his mouth, and closes his eyes as the hot liquid temporarily soothes the pain in his throat.

“You never answered where we’re going tomorrow,” Sydney points out as she blows on her hot chocolate, a cloud of steam rolling over the lip of the cup.

“Northwest. We’ve been in the same region for a while, so I figure we take a longer drive. Change of scenery, if you will.”

Sydney makes a noise at the lie of a simple change of scenery but drinks her cocoa rather than commenting on it. When Victor coughs, a harsh but short noise that seems to shake his entire body, she turns toward him.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly.

 “Yes.”

Sydney raises her eyebrows, expectant of a longer answer.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” she asks, raising her right hand with an extended pinky.

“Not doing that.”

Sydney rolls her eyes but smiles, growing sleepier with each passing moment. Victor finishes his tea and leans back, grateful for the relief and Sydney’s distraction. Both Dol and Sydney are asleep before him long before Victor goes to sleep, a dreamless sleep that could either be a good sign or a warning that darkness is coming.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor wakes again when the sun rises over the horizon, shining into the east-facing window behind him. His throat is better, the burning mitigated to a dull ache that eases each time he swallows. With a nod to himself, Victor stands and begins gathering everything they need to take to the next hotel. When he glances at Sydney, he wonders just how beneficial a nomadic life is. At what point is it better to fight for her and defend her than to keep her hidden and secluded? Yes, Sydney chose to stay with him, but what kind of life can he give her?

Sydney stretches awake and startles Victor out of his internal questioning. He tells her to get a move on, finish packing, and be ready to go within an hour.

“Yes, dad,” she mumbles as she passes him, Dol right behind her.

“You wanna drive first or am I?” Mitch asks, exiting the other bedroom with his backpack in his hand.

“I’ll start; we can switch off in a few hours.”

“You alright? You look tired- more tired than usual.”

Victor nods, and Mitch returns it, taking his chocolate milk out of the minifridge to finish drinking it.

“We’re ready,” Sydney says as she returns.

Dol stands at attention at her side, his eyes on Victor as if he’s asking the same question Mitch did. Although, Dol doesn’t believe Victor’s lies like everyone else.

“Then let’s go. Lots of dog parks to see, Dol,” Victor announces as he opens the door.

Sydney and Mitch walk out, letting Victor lead Dol out first.

“He was awake and making tea last night,” Sydney tells Mitch.

“So?”

“He knocked something over in the middle of the night and answered immediately when I asked if he was okay. That’s not like him.”

Mitch nods as he says, “He answered me too quick this morning, too.”

“He coughed last night. Do you think he’s doing… it again?”

“No, I think he’s fine. Relatively.”

Sydney looks up at Mitch, and he slows to promise, “We’ll keep an eye on him. He’s always alright around us.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Two hours into the drive, Victor finds a truck stop with a dog park and pulls off the highway. Sydney takes her time during these stops because no one remembers a kid looking at truck stop souvenirs. Once they’re back in the car, Mitch takes his first turn driving.

Victor’s throat begins burning again just before it starts raining, light and steady. The windshield wipers move slowly, and Victor tries to let the rhythmic swishing put him to sleep.

Dol whines, standing in the backseat and looking toward Victor.

“What’s wrong?” Mitch asks worriedly, his eyes on Victor as he starts shaking.

“No-nothing,” Victor stutters before falling into a coughing fit.

Sydney leans forward against her seatbelt and lays her hand on Victor’s forehead. He lets her, which is more than enough sign that something’s wrong, but his skin feels like it burns her.

“He has a fever,” Sydney says, her eyes wide as they meet Mitch’s in the rearview mirror.

Victor’s coughing fit slows, but the sneezes that follow aren’t any less concerning.

“Sydney, keep an eye out for an exit sign with hotels,” Mitch says, checking over his shoulder before changing lanes. “Keep it together, Vic, you’re gonna be fine.”

“‘M fine now,” Victor argues weakly, holding his chest.

“Two more exits,” Sydney informs. “616.”

Mitch nods, and Victor doesn’t realize any time passes before the sound of the highway fades. 

“Keep an eye on him and honk if anything happens,” Mitch commands before jogging into the hotel lobby.

Dol has been watching Victor since he first whined, alerting Mitch and Sydney to Victor’s illness. He remains vigilant, not looking away from Victor until Mitch returns and helps Victor out of the passenger seat.

Sydney leads Dol in first, and Mitch follows, practically carrying Victor as he leads him into the elevator and to their new suite.

“I have to find a pharmacy and get him some medicine,” Mitch says as he lowers Victor to the couch. “Take his phone and call me if anything happens.”

Sydney nods, and Mitch lowers to her level to reiterate, “Anything.”

“I will,” she promises quietly.

Mitch walks out, and Victor leans back further against the couch, a deep cough causing him to hold his hand to his chest. He turns away from Sydney to sneeze, and Dol climbs onto the seat beside him, offering comfort.

“You promised that you were okay,” Sydney huffs.

“I didn’t pinky promise,” Victor points out. He sneezes before finishing, “So did it even mean anything?”

Sydney shakes her head, a small smile appearing at Victor’s humor. Apparently, it only appears when he’s threatening someone or sick.

“I think I’m dying,” he groans.

“Well, you’d know what it feels like,” Sydney quips, pleased with herself when Victor chuckles.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mitch returns as quickly as he can, grateful there is a pharmacy just down the road. He has a bag filled with medicine, tea, electrolyte drinks, and hearty snacks in his hand when he enters the room. The sight of Victor holding Dol on the couch while Sydney sits before them on the floor causes him to slow momentarily.

“Vic, you need to take this fever reducer,” Mitch says, prepared to argue or force it down Victor’s throat.

“Mmkay,” Victor mumbles, extending his open hand to receive the pills.

Sydney and Mitch look at each other in shock. Victor gladly accepts the medicine and a bottle of water, downing it quickly before laying back down with an arm over Dol.

“Want to watch a movie?” Sydney asks, hoping to distract Victor from his symptoms.

“Sure,” he answers from behind Dol.

Mitch joins Sydney on the floor, pulling a bottle of chocolate milk and Sydney’s favorite candy from the drugstore bag. He passes the snack to her while she finds a movie, pressing play and leaning back against the couch.

Within the first few minutes of the movie, Victor’s medicine starts to kick in, or his fever makes him delirious because he comments on the probability that the movie plot would ever happen.

“That’s not right,” he mutters when the main character comments on a mathematical principle. “I was going to be a doctor and even I know that.”

Sydney considers asking him to explain it, but Mitch smiles and shakes his head, telling her to let him rest as much as possible.

“Feel better, Vic,” she whispers.

He hums, then silences. Mitch turns his attention to the movie, believing Victor is asleep and trusting Dol to let him and Sydney know if anything changes. Sydney pats Dol before doing the same, hoping that the medicine works, and Victor is back to normal soon.

Mitch and Sydney’s heads snap toward the couch when Victor mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “I love you guys,” before a quiet snore escapes him.

[crossdreamers]

The transgender journalist who covered the war in Ukraine has now enlisted with the Ukrainian forces

Sarah Ashton-Cirillo of Las Vegas is believed to have been the only out transgender female war correspondent in Ukraine. This month she joined the Ukrainian Armed Forces.

“I wasn't coming here to necessarily cover war,” Ashton-Cirillo told Dawn Ennis of Forbes. “I’ve never been in combat before. I've never been exposed to live fire. This was a follow up to my refugee book that I was unhappy with. That's what this trip was, to let me write the refugee book that was not written properly in 2015.”

She wrote a book about the Syrian refugee crisis prior to coming out as transgender.

Adam Zivo of the Washington Examiner writes:

After almost changing her mind at the Ukrainian border, she made it into the country and serendipitously met two men working in security. They invited her to Kharkiv to "see the real war." 

Impulsively, she joined them and, despite several moments of fear and doubt, was soon enmeshed with Ukrainian security forces in Kharkiv, a city that few journalists or aid workers dared visit at the time. She saw dead bodies for the first time, which imparted upon her the gravity of her work. She began to tweet furiously about the atrocities occurring around her almost every day.

Joining the Ukraininan armed forces

Later this year she enlisted with the Ukrainian Armed Forces.  

The "tremendous amount of atrocities" she saw "put the seed in my mind about wanting to do something more,” she told Adam Zivo.

She is also a representative for the Ukrainian village of Zolochiv, in the Kharkiv region, appointed by its mayor to advocate with aid groups. She is no longer working as a journalist.

Being transgender in Ukraine

She says that she has met few problems being a transgender woman in Ukraine:

"People in Ukraine are not focused on gender identity or a person’s sexuality. People in Ukraine judge you based on your values and viewpoints when it comes to liberty, democracy, and your desire to stand shoulder-to-shoulder against terror," she told Zivo. 

We are glad people have treated her this well. We know that Ukraine, like all countries, has its share of transphobes. To give one example: Whether the Ukrainian military treats a transgender woman as a woman or as a man at the border seems to be a matter of luck.

The Russian regime, however, is weaponizing transphobia as part of their war effort,  making transgender people scapegoats for everything Putin thinks is bad in the world. The fact is, of course, that Putin is the clearest sign of the fascist cultural cancer that is spreading right now.

In April, the Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs accused Sarah of being a "Nazi," leading to death and rape threats from Russia’s supporters. This is a typical "pot calling the kettle black" situation.

Exposing Republican extremism in Nevada

This is not the first time Sarah has been fighting transphobic far right extremists.

In 2021 Sarah ran a campaign for the Las Vegas City Council after she, as a journalist,  had carried undercover infiltration of the Republican party in Nevada. She documented efforts to "get the Proud Boys out" for a planned "Brooks Brothers Riot" as part of efforts to overturn the outcome of the 2020 United States presidential election. 

She withdrew from the race in October that year, saying she wished to focus on a political news portal she had created, Political.tips. The site is still there, but it is understandable that Sarah is too busy to update it on a regular basis.

Three top photos from Sarah (via Forbes and twitter), bottom photo from her city council campaign.

Follow Sarah on twitter!

LGBTQ+ organizations in Ukraine

[dramiodantes]

The Great Hall was crowded and beautiful in a way she wouldn't ever dare to say.

Her mother sent her a black gown that sparkled at every movement. She had never felt so gorgeous in her entire life, especially when she had worn the pair of black gloves that lay at the bottom of the box with her first pair of heels. 

But what mattered most was the boy who was dancing with her: Draco Malfoy.

And he had kissed her before the beginning of the Yule Ball.

Nevertheless it didn't feel good as she always pictured in her mind: a quick and rushed kiss, with their eyes opened and no sign of—well, anything.

And when Hermione Granger made her appearance with that stupid periwinkle dress, Draco hadn't never stopped to stare at her. Pansy and he were friends since their childhood, she knew everything about him but now it was perfectly clear that he had a crush on another girl.

Hermione Granger, of all people.

So she felt allowed to glance around and when her gaze landed on him, something snapped inside her: Harry Potter's eyes were intense, his untidy hair needed to be tamed but the genuine smile he wore looked so cute.

 

Pansy's cheeks burnt. 

 

How could she think those things about him? Not when the badge "Potter stinks" laid on her desk, not when she had helped Draco to feed Rita Skeeter with info against him, nor when he was /Harry Potter/. Her parents would have been terrified by her own thoughts.

But that night was a different kind of story: the Yule Ball, the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts filled with students from other countries. Everything could happen.

 

"Enough, Draco, stop".

"What? You asked me to dance".

"And now I won't do it anymore. I need some air, bye".

 

He looked shocked for a moment but then Hermione Granger and Vitkor Krum started to dance too close to them and the jealousy on his face was unmistakable.

So she stormed out of the ballroom, in order to sit on a bench and try to regain control of herself.

She was conflicted between duty towards her family and her real feelings: they wanted to betroth her to Draco and Hogwarts was her way to gain the contract. But he didn't want her, it was clear.

The great discovered of that Yule Ball was that she didn't give a fuck about that. Pansy blushed thinking about the fact that her mother would have slapped her for those vile words.

 

"I thought you loved dancing. Surely you have taken private lessons since childhood".

Pansy froze, knowing who belonged that voice.

"Go away, Potter".

But he wasn't known for being a boy who followed the rules, so it didn't surprise her at all watching him sit next to her. 

"Parvati hates me, I won't come back there".

Pansy gulped. "It's because you're the worst dancer I've ever seen".

His full laugh made her smile, even if she didn't dare to show it to him, covering her mouth with a hand.

He kept staring in front of him, without facing her when he dropped the bomb. "You look amazing with this dress".

 

Blimey, he couldn't say things like that to her.

 

Pansy stood up immediately as panic flooded through her body. Probably he had drunk too much punch secretly blended with Firewhiskey.

"You're forgetting who I am and who you are: we're enemies, my parents killed yours", she retorted, trying to get rid of him before it could be too late.

But he caught her wrist, standing up. "Malfoy has spent the entire evening looking at Hermione: strange things happen".

"How dare you! I'm his date, she is only a bint, a mud—".

"Don't finish your sentence, Pansy, or you're going to regret it", he hissed, still with his hand around her wrist.I

 

It didn't seem he wanted to let her go and only Salazar knew how she literally yearned for the same.

 

"I'm sorry", she blurted out, without even knowing why.

"Kiss me and I'll forgive you".

"You have knocked your head, Potter?".

He smiled fondly. "Probably but you're too beautiful to waste this occasion".

"I'm here with Malfoy", she repeated.

 

But when he circled her waist, she crushed her lips on his in a second, doing what she actually wanted for the first time in her young life.

[sparkleplatypuswriter]

tagged by @naturaliseme -- thanks friend :)

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!

While she's so busy being free - For All Mankind Margo/Sergei, Margo/Molly, Molly/Wayne

“So out with it then – who is it?” Molly says before taking a deep inhale of her cigarette. She offers it to Margo, who, as usual, shakes her head against Molly’s bare shoulder. Molly can’t quite remember when Margo stopped smoking – probably about the same time she was named Director of JSC. Something in Margo became just a bit more rigid when she made the jump from flight director to head honcho.  Molly loves making her more pliant. 

New Frontiers - For All Mankind Karen Baldwin, Wayne Cobb

Karen shakes a little as she takes the keys out of her gray leather purse, selects the right one, and, for the first time ever, slides it into the deadbolt.

She tries to turn it, but the lock won’t budge. 

Time and Space - For All Mankind Margo Madison/Sergei Nikulov

She doesn't even want to look at her watch. Dawn must be on the horizon soon. They had gotten back to NASA at what? 1:00 am? 1:30 am? And as much as she'd initially chided Aleida for being in the design room, she has to admit, her help has been immeasurable. Catching their flaw, the need for a shock-absorbent ring —she's better than Margo gave her credit for. 

Am I a fool to let you trouble me? - For All Mankind Margo Madison/Molly Cobb, Margo Madison/Sergei Nikulov

Margo takes a deep breath, straightening her blouse and adjusting her glasses, before opening the door to the briefing room. She can do this. She’s the director of JSC. The first woman to grace the floor of mission control. She’s led countless lunar missions. And she even speaks to the president semi-frequently about agency directives for the Jamestown base. 

She can certainly handle the likes of Molly Cobb for a single briefing. 

The Mechanics of it all - For All Mankind Margo Madison/Sergei Nikulov (mechanic AU!)

Margo huffs as she marches into the garage. She can’t believe today of all days that her car broke down. She has dinner with Bradford, Tom, and Ed tonight, and she still somehow has to make her gig later at Club 11:59. 

Emma had given her the address of her mechanic. She had sworn by him. And though somehow Margo’s car managed to sputter into the parking lot of the garage, the sounds it was making were not promising. 

Constant as a Northern Star - For All Mankind Margo Madison/Sergei Nikulov

Dinner had been all too short. His time always was with her. Though they had known each other for years now, it seemed all they ever had were these small fragments together: torn-up coasters, a coin toss gone awry, elevator repartee. He would always long for more. 

Deep down, he knows he will never get it. 

But as they come in from the cool London air, back into the lobby, he dares to be greedy for more of her — just for tonight. 

Stolen Moments - For All Mankind *My first ever fic! Margo Madison/Sergei Nikulov

She turns and holds the elevator door open with one hand, wine glass still gesticulating in the other.

“Would you…” she hesitates, “care to continue this lively discussion?"

He steps towards the doors and places his hand just above hers on its frame… tries to not get ahead of himself. “Discussion?” he teases. “I thought this was the blueprint for future peace negotiations between our two countries.”

He likes red - For All Mankind Margo Madison/Sergei Nikulov

For the record, she was wearing red because it was a Christmas party. There was no other reason - no matter how severe the side-eyed look Emma gave her was when she exited her office in the mid-length, v-neck, ruffled dress. It was Christmas, and red was a Christmas colour. That was all. 

Overheard - For All Mankind Margo Madison/Sergei Nikulov

He hangs back in the hallway. He should not be here, he knows, listening to this exchange between the director of JSC and the NASA administrator. But then, it is them who have chosen to have a conversation like this out in the open. So typically naive, he thinks. So American.

Tagging: @tvnerdy @justalittleowl

[layer-bloody-sun]

Small Fic, Vilkas x Dovhakin oc

It was a normal day, the most normal they could get here in Skyrim anyway. For once Rim had nothing to do, a blessed day indeed. Not a single request from anyone in the entire country, nope, not one. It was sunny outside and everyone in the Companions had decided to either train or hunt, leaving her alone in the great hall. Almost alone. The dragonborn tried to ignore the fact that Vilkas was there as much as he did her. He hadn't liked her from the moment she had asked to join and it hadn't seem to get any better. She didn't know what his problem was, she hadn't antagonized him at all, in fact she had tried to be as friendly as she could. All she got from it was going from harsh words to simple dark stares. He still talked down to her every now and then, but it wasn't any worse than other older members taunting her. He was staring today too, which unerved her more than it needed to. She wasn't good with people, especially smart ones.

She was trying to read. Rim may have been good at fighting and crafting so far, but reading she still couldn't do well. All the letters were jumbling around and merging into an incoherent mess. Dragon speech was much easier even if she couldn't speak it out of combats, but the written language of Tamriel? A nightmare. And having Vilkas staring didn't help. She could hear, above the creakling of the fire, the soft sound of pages being regularly turned. She felt taunted yet again, like he was saying "I can read so much better than you even tho I'm still staring at you half the time". She hated it. Rim let out a heavy sigh, almost a groan, fists tightened against the sides of her head. If her brain was willing to kick in she'd be grateful: she had been stuck on the same page for a good 30 minutes. Were she younger she might have cried…

"Can you not read?"

Ah there it was. Vilkas had put his book down and was now hovering above her shoulder, peaking at what she was struggling on. The young woman just squinted her eyes shut and waited for the usual laughs and tease. Instead she felt the weight shift on the bench as he sat next to her

"If you have trouble reading, maybe you should start with something easier, that one's using weird old speech."

She just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. For once Vilkas seemed lost

"What?" "No I just… I expected you to mock me as usual is all" "What? I don't mock you? When did I do that?"

He seemed offended at the thought but Rim simply looked at him in disbelief.

"Do you seriously want me to give you a list of all the times you insulted me or tried to make me feel small? How about your favorite line, 'you're the weakest here' and any variation you come up with."

Vilkas seemed to have an awakening, panic flashing accross his eyes

"Rim I'm sorry I didn't mean…" "Whatever, she sighed, cutting him off. If you want to tell me what I should read, I guess I'll take it. But leave me alone."

The following silence was a bit awkward, Vilkas was squirming on the bench, trying to find something to say. The dragonborn tried to block him out of her mind, until he spoke again. His voice was softer than she had thought it could be

"Or I can…you know…help you?" "Help me?" "Yeah, teach you how to read? I mean Farkas said he saw you read dragonspeech so I'm guessing the problem is more with our system."

She looked at him, weighing the option.

"If I accept, you can't laugh or get angry at me." "I wouldn't…. I won't."

He genty took the book, sliding it so it was sitting between them rather than in front of Rim. He frowned at the words

"You sure you want to read this one?" "Yeah, it's about ruins I want to find later"

He nodded, already slightly absent, skimming the page to see where to start before looking up abruptly

"Rim do you even know your alphabet?" "Huh…" She grimaced. "I learned at some point?"

He stared at her, with what she would almost dare to call awe.

"Ok then… let's start with the bases, shall we?"

For the few hours they had before everyone started returning, they studied. Vilkas was much more patient then she had anticipated, and even though she was really struggling he kept his promise and didn't once mock or tease; a slight chuckle here and there but for some reason she didn't mind. They hadn't progressed much on the book itself but now Rim could actually understand what she was seeing. It felt kinda magical to be able to decipher words, and while she still had many troubles on big ones she felt very proud. She couldn't pretend Vilkad hadn't been a great help. Once more people were in and it became noisy, they stopped, otherwise rhe woman's brain would implode from overstimulation. Instead they just sat back and enjoyed the convivial athmosphere the place always had

"You know Rim, you're doing great for someone who was struggling a few hours ago" "Well I got myself a pretty great teacher so put it on that"

He chuckled again before falling silent, his head tilted down over his drink

"I huh… I'm sorry, for the way I was acting. Everyone here's a bit rough, I didn't realize it would affect you like that. I've also…okay I've outright been a dick, I recognize that. I'm sorry."

Rim put her drink down, contemplating his words for a minute.

"Well… I guess you did make an effort, considering you've been switching to just staring angrily at me. Honeslty I had fun today, you're not as bad as I thought. Peace?"

She offered her hand to him. He eyed it quickly before looking back at her face. The warrior opened his mouth but shut it down just as quick, probably stopping himself from saying something too witty.

"Peace." He simply answered, shaking her hand in his. "What was that about staring?"

"What do you mean? Everytime I spot you in the same room you'd be staring dagger at me. Sometimes it felt like you wanted to eat me whole…"

The last thing she expected was the mad blush coming onto her friend's face. He awkwardly laughed before abruptly standing up. 'Think I'm being called over there, see you', he said, or at least that's what she heard because he sputtered the words out so fast she wasn't sure. Weird. But she didn't have time to think about it because Aela jumped on her back, clearly drunk, asking for a showdown.

Rim laughed, loving being surrounded by all this energy. She liked these moments more, they fueled her, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to the next calm day where she could learn with Vilkas again. What a good day it had been.

[excellentexecution]

||

Anonymous asked: Given that Niccola is a bigger woman, and of color, has it ever put a strain on the relationship you guys have? Any of the racism or judgment that I am sure has come your guys' way.

Curious Anons!

Unfortunate were such experiences that they both had to share. Remain as witnesses to, a couple forced to confront the worst, neither Bret nor Niccola were strangers to the cruelty of others. Viciousness that screamed an oath of hatred, the color of his beloved’s skin had been a point of contention, the center, for those who wished to see her downfall. Broken was the Hitman’s heart every time such nonsense was spit from evil lips. Mouths twisted in anger just to cause pain to his sweet love - bilious commentary against her and himself - faces red and near about to explode from the shoulders, persons so ire. Bret had heard their words even on his and Niccola’s first date. A restaurant that was pleasant in all else, racism spoken aloud from another guest, a meal that was close to turning into a brutal beating, fists from the Hitman readied to fly. It was a bitter stab to the soul when it was realized that such malevolence could never truly be escaped from. No matter how desperately Bret fought to make it so, to rid the world and to protect Niccola from it, comments were just awful when the children were born. Family and friends around them happy, he would keep them safe from everyone else, even if it killed him, the bigots and the supremacists unable to touch what was loved beyond measure. 

“No. Never.” Bret explained, visage defined by seriousness, honesty. “I love and adore Niccola for who she is. Just as she feels the same way for me, skin color and body shape don’t mean a thing when it comes to our relationship, our marriage. But, y’know, it has caused us a lot of personal pain. Living in Calgary, there aren’t many people who have a problem with us being together. Most Canadians don’t care about that sort of thing like other countries do. But that isn’t to say that it hasn’t happened. In both Canada and all over the world, my wife and I have had our fair share of experiences with racial hatred. Niccola even more so. Y’know, she really is a woman of honor. She’s never once been disrespectful to anyone. Even toward people who deserve it.”

“Sure, she’s let off steam and given jerks a taste of their own medicine, cursed a bit, but nothing as mean as what they’ve ever dared to say to her. Nickie’s always been an angel like that. Been the better person because she knows that’s how good and true kindhearted people are supposed to act - been a wonderful example to our children about how to deal with those types of situations. I’ve tried to lead with that example, too. Just because someone else is being hateful, doesn’t mean that you have to. But, still, it’s gotten difficult sometimes to turn the other cheek, y’know. Hearing somebody else, more often than not, another guy, speak to my wife like she’s nothing, it gets to me. I’m not proud of it, but there have been moments when my anger had gotten the best of me. When I just couldn’t take it anymore and felt like I needed to step in for Nickie, when I needed to give somebody a hard lesson. I’ve had to take one or two guys outside before.”

He soughed, flexing the knuckles of his one hand, the ghost of bruises lingered. “Like I said, y’know, it’s not something I’m proud of. You should never let your emotions get the better of you. Violence is never the answer. It doesn’t make any of the bad go away. It just feeds it for longer. Niccola and I, we’ve made it our mission to just go about our days. Whatever anyone else thinks of us, our family and our children, that hatred can stay with them. We don’t want it. We don’t support it. We know how we feel about each other. Our love, it’s genuine. Regardless of race or body type, we’re gonna be together until the end, Nickie and I. She’s the love of my life. A life without her would be meaningless for me. She’s my entire happiness. I don’t give a damn about what anyone else, what any pathetic racist, thinks of her. What they think of me.”

“I love my wife more than any of them could ever imagine. More than they would come to know for themselves. I love our children. Truthfully, I think that’s why these sorts are always so full of hate. They’ve never known of true love. They’ve never known how wonderful love, in any form, can be.”

___

[alaffy]

One of Us is Lying, Ep.2x03 – Simon Says Let’s Get Personal

At the beginning of the second episode, Janae was creating a murder board. They may want to go back to that because they're just grasping at straws and just hoping that one of the people that they choose for the possible murderer of the week is actually Simon Says.

So Simon Says has decided to up his game, and this time he is sending personal dares to the different people in the group. Congratulations on doing one thing that the second book actually did.  Anyway, Bronwyn has to skip her math midterm. Nate has to kiss the girl that has been tutoring him, because you know, this is one way to set up a love triangle and cause more drama between Bronwyn and Nate.

But things are about to get worse. See, Vanessa has a surprise for her Justice for Jake Clout Fest. Meet Giselle who, according to Giselle, is the woman that Jake was seeing in Greece while dating Addy.  See, she has come to town because she and Jake were in love.  Jake was planning on leaving Addy for Giselle, but was afraid that Addy and her new friends would do something to him if he tried.  Of course, this is all treated like a scandal against Abby and not, you know, further evidence that Jake was a liar, cheater, hypocrite, and someone who liked to manipulate people.

Anyway. Addy realizes that if Jake was cheating on Addy in Greece, that means that he was cheating on her before she cheated on him and therefore she’s not the cheater or something. You know what? I don't actually care. He was a piece of shit either way. But Simon Says decides this moment is the  perfect time to make Addy seem crazy and have her dress up like Jackie Kennedy in funeral garb; like she’s sending a message Jake is dead.

Meanwhile, Cooper gets his Simon Says and it says that he has to go online and say that he's received a text from Jake saying Jake is in Mexico and it doesn't want to be found. Of course, he's freaked out about this, because why wouldn't he be? He knows damn well that the police will be on him if he says something like that. But Maeve being the technical genius she is says that she can fake a message from Jake and make it seem like it came from Mexico.  So, Jake posts the message. And, of course, the detective comes to get his phone.  And I’m wondering how broad that search warrant is considering she seems to go through everything on that phone.  I’m also amazed that a judge gave that specific detective a warrant, Jake’s family notwithstanding, just because of how badly she screwed up the first time.   If she ends up being wrong again and…yikes.

Janae, meanwhile, has to tag Simone's grave; which she does. But she gets caught and because of that, her dad's coming home, so they have to get rid of the body that night. And, of course, nobody can reach Cooper. They try texting him, letting him know, hey, we gotta go to the boat. Addy goes and gets him, at which point they find out that his phone has been taken and they're now wondering if the cops are gonna be waiting for them when they get back.  

Addy takes a moment with Jake's dead body and finally comes to terms with the fact that he was using her, manipulating her; which it's about fucking time. But that being said, OK, look, she was gaslit and it is a prosses to move on from those things. Afterwards she decides that she's going to delete all his old pictures. She shows Maeve and Bronwyn one of the pictures that Geselle says that she supposedly took of Jake in Greece. But Bronwyn realizes that the building he’s standing in front of is in Italy, not Greece.  Maeve looks at the picture and realizes it’s been photoshopped.  But why was Jake pretending to be out of the country?

Now Addy is wondering if Giselle is Simon Says; which s one hell of a leap.  Sure it is possible she’s helping Simon Says; but Simon Says has information about the others that Giselle most likely wouldn’t know.  I have a feeling Giselle is a red herring.  

[twstwonderlandstuff]

Hi ! I just realized your request are open ! First of all congratulations for 500 follower 🎂🥳 !! My request are for Riddle Rosehearts, Ruggie Bucchi, Epel Felmier and Lilia Vanrouge, (romantic kinda, they have a crush ?) in form of a headcanons : gn!reader take something of their hair without warning and end up grazing their ear or their neck, hehe~ i thought it was a cute idea and would like to read it from you if you accept it ! ❤

let's go! gotta love moments in pining~!

reqs open!

a/n: ALSO, I changed Lilia's and Epel's trope a bit so it doesn't get boring! I do hope that's okay.

🍒 Riddle is already a nervous wreck around you, so when he sees your hand fly up against your hair, he freezes, too scared, or really, too nervous to move.

🍒 He looks up at your face, thanking the Great Seven that you don’t notice him staring at your features. 

🍒 When your hand accidentally strays down to his ear, he squeaks, quickly pulling your hand away from him and holding his ear, unable to make eye contact.

🍒 Then when you reveal that its a fallen leaf you picked from his hair he’s one, mortified that his appearance isn’t as clean as he thought and two, you touched his ear!

🍒 It burns bright red as he begins to yell at you, something nonsensical that doesn’t even make sense to him because of how flustered he is.

🍒 “I- Don’t touch my ears- The rules state- ah- j-just please leave me alone for now!”

🌹 But you don’t mind his lecture. Not when he looked that cute.

🌹 He’ll lament this failure of his to Trey and Cater later on, cursing himself for what he’s done. 

🍒 Ruggie is more cool with the entire thing; he’s got a crush on you, cool, yeah, and he’s happy you’ve gotten close enough to pet him without warning.

🍒 But when you brush against his ear repeatedly, like trying to wade something off, an embarrassing sound threatens to leave him.

🍒 Its a sort of laughing response, but its not the usual laugh he has. No, this one’s a laugh used for people closest to him, like his grandmother- and it’s bubbling up because you’re touching his ears-!

🍒 He grabs both of your hands with a growl, and brushes off his embarrassment with a joke.

🍒 “Oi, whatcha think you’re doin’, prefect? Petting my ears are gonna cost ya, ya know~”

🍒 And when you reveal a pestering lint, or material of some sort has been stuck in his hair, and not because you want to pet him…

🌹 He’ll be rolling around in his pillow for quite some time.

🍒 You know Epel doesn’t like being called dainty and cute- he truly doesn’t, but when he’s sitting under an apple tree and the lights are coming down from the leaves in patches that cling onto him like second skin, he certainly looks like it.

🍒 But then you spot something- a bug on his neck that he doesn’t seem to notice, still happily chattering to you about his hometown.

🍒 You suddenly reach out, grabbing his shoulder on one hand and aiming for his neck with the other.

🍒 But the bug is a persistent little shit, so it takes a couple of tries before you finally get it, but when you do, there’s bug goo all over his neck (gross). You do the honors of rubbing your thumb over it a couple of times, and its gone.

🍒 You pull back to find Epel staring at you with wide eyes and stained cheeks. Ooh, right. An explanation is probably due.

🍒 “There was a… bug.” You say, raising your bug goo covered thumb, wiping it on your shirt. “Did I startle you? Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

🍒 “‘S… fine.” Epel mumbles in his country accent. “Ya can go wash it off in the sink.”

🍒 You leave, and as soon as your back is turned, Epel buries himself on his thighs, grumbling. How DARE you look so focused and cool when you do it?! How dare you breathe down on him, making his heart pitter-patter like he’s just seen Vil? How dare you make him feel so… so… so girly and, and… and whatever these mushy feelings do to him?! How could you, how could you?!

🌹 He won’t even look at you when you come back. WHY?!

🍒 Lilia thinks you’re the cutest thing ever (except for Silver. And Sebek. And Malleus. ...basically his kids). Here you are, taking his heart captive and acting so nonchalant about it. It’s not everyday you have a… centuries? No, eons? …how-many-years-old fae crushing on you. 

🍒 Your overly calculated methods of surprising him never fail to make him giggle when you fail and give him a pout. Aw, geez, you’re just making him want you even more at this rate!

🍒 So it comes as a surprise to both you and Lilia when you surprise him and you were so subtle at it, too.

🍒 You’re chilling in his room, you know, as friends do- Lilia’s focused on a game, and you’re just watching when unexpectedly, you reach out to pat his hair. You don’t say anything, but your hand roams down to his ear, then his neck.

🍒 He drops his controller and stifles an embarrassed laugh, asking if his neck interests you that much.

🌹 You should bite it. NO I SAID NOTHING

🍒 “Yeah, kinda. It’s really pretty. Your ears too. Can I touch ‘em?”

🍒 Lilia’s face is uncharacteristically red, a hand on his mouth, with his hair flying up like in animes. 

🍒  Its a fae thing, you see, for the ears and neck to be awfully sensitive spots, and you brushed on them like they were nothing. You’re even saying you like them?! Puh-lease, no one’s ever made his heart pound quite like this before.

🌹 Maybe you should start making excuses to massage his neck and ears more often.

[bucksfucks]

𝙁𝘽𝙍𝙊 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 [𝟳/𝟭𝟭]

summary┃bucky’s past comes back with a vengeance and you’re determined to get the answers you’ve been searching for. 

pairing┃roommate!bucky x f!reader

word count┃2,682 words

warnings┃bucky’s past is revealed, character mentions; [sam wilson, natasha romanoff, tony stark], pet name [kid (platonic), sweets & baby], threats made against bucky + reader, trust-issues, mention of hit-men, brief mention of death, phone sex, praise kink, masturbation, mention of toys, slight angst, soft ending — 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI

notes┃there is A LOT of plot here but also some filthy goodness and a sprinkle of angst <<3

SERIES MASTERLIST

     Ex-wife.

    Bucky’s words echoed in your ears as he didn’t dare to look at you.

    His ex-wife was threatening you.

    And he didn’t think to mention her? Ever?

    “Can I please explain?” Bucky croaked finally, voice sounding broken as you shrugged your shoulders — in a state of shock.

    That was all he needed before he recounted his previous relationship with the woman who was now sending you threatening emails.

    Married young, too young and too fast and it ended up blowing up in their faces.

    Well, clearly she hadn’t gotten over it.

    “I thought I lost her,” he explains. “I thought that moving halfway across the country would be enough.”

    You finally looked up to meet his eyes, glossy, sad and terrified as you sniffled.

    “There’s a reason only Tasha calls me James.”

    It broke your heart hearing that, the way his head hung low and he nearly winced at the sound of his own goddamn name.

    But you didn’t know who to trust anymore.

    Bucky always glossed over how he, Sam, and Nat knew each other — telling you that they were old friends that go back.

    How far back?

    You needed to know, but clearly you weren’t about to get answers from him.

    “Buck,” he stopped you, taking a step closer as his eyes begged and pleaded you not to finish your sentence. 

    “I can’t,” he shook his head, “I need some time.” 

    You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words that would shatter both of your world’s. But you had no idea what the hell you had gotten yourself into and you needed answers. 

    And you knew exactly who to go to for them. 

    “I understand,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll stay at Sam’s for some time, okay?” 

    You could only nod your head, watching him walk past you and into his door. 

    Then he shut it, something he never did because his door was always open for you. No matter what you needed and no matter what time of day it was. 

    It felt...wrong. 

    But you couldn’t dwell on it, grabbing your keys, phone, and whatever other important things you could think of being you nearly bolted out of the front     door. 

    You plugged your headphones into your phone, hitting shuffle and descending down into the subway. 

    The entire ride made you anxious, slowly approaching your stop and you were way out of place in this crowd. 

    People rushed by you in expensive suits and what you could only guess were the infamous red-soled shoes that were worth close to your monthly rent, if not more. 

    You cringed, thinking of the man you were about to see in his stupidly tall office building that you had to crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle just     to get a look at. 

    The elevator could not have taken longer, tapping your foot impatiently as you rode up to what felt like the heavens before the doors opened to revel smooth wooden doors that reach from the ceiling to the floor. 

    You were so close, before you were stopped. 

    “Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t be here right now.” A man’s voice stopped you, dressed in a security guard uniform and oh, this was so him. 

    “I know him,” you said, intent on seeing the man probably sitting behind those large doors. 

    “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do th—”

    “It’s okay, Marv. I know her,” his voice came not from behind the doors, but from the long hallway to your left. 

    The security guard, Marv, nodded his head as he looked at you once more before retreating back to where he was leaning against one of the walls. 

    “This is a surprise,” you rolled your eyes, “Tony, please. I don’t wanna hear it.” 

    He walked over to you, embracing you in a hug, “oh c’mon, I’ve missed you, Kid.” 

    You shook your head, “I haven’t been a kid in years,” you tried to remind him, but it was Tony, he wasn’t going to listen as he just laughed it off and welcomed you into his office. 

    It was much different from last time, all new furniture and appliances, but nothing lasted more than a year with Tony. 

    Tony was an old friend, sort of.

    He was an old friend of your father’s, something like an uncle, but also like your older brother. 

    So just one giant pain in your ass.

    “So,” Tony sighed. “What trouble did you get into this time, Kid?”

    You told Tony everything. 

    From being roommates with Bucky to the way he asked you to be his fake girlfriend to Sam’s wedding and all the way to the situation you were in now. Confronted by his ex-wife without any idea of what she was going to do. 

    Tony had that look on his face. The one where he was going to tell you that you were crazy. 

    “I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into these situations,” he chuckled, hand clamping over your shoulder as he walked around his desk and typed something into his computer. 

    “Last name is,” he looked at you. “Barnes.” 

    He nodded his head, typing away at his computer again before he stopped. 

    There was a brief moment of silence, Tony hiding behind the computer screen before he stood up and walked back around the desk, “I’m gonna need some time.”

    You understood, shaking your head. You were asking Tony to hack into any known database and collect as much data on Bucky as you could. It was wrong, but you just needed to know who you were dealing with. 

    “Thank you, Tony. I-I really appreciate it.” You weren’t good when it came to...well, the heartfelt side of things but luckily neither was Tony. 

    “Don’t get sappy on me now, Kid. You know it makes me sick,” he joked playfully, smile on his lips as you stood up to give him a half hug. 

    “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He promised before you walked out of the too-tall building with far more questions than you came with. 

    It was a waiting game that you didn’t want to play, but you didn’t have a choice. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    It seemed like your relationship with Bucky was doomed from the start. 

    Friends to lovers rarely, if ever, works out in anyone’s favour. 

    The fake dating trope you could handle, pushing your feelings aside to help Bucky win a bet didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. You had a great time, great fucking sex, and a trip out of it. 

    Then Steve wouldn’t leave the picture. Going as far as coming to the wedding as Natasha’s boyfriend to spite you not realizing that you and Bucky had gotten married. 

    Married. 

    You and Bucky were married. Bonded in a whole other way and now, his ex-wife was out for you and him. 

    Maybe this was a sign from the universe, a big red fucking flag telling you that it wasn’t worth it and yet...you couldn’t let go. 

    The apartment felt empty without Bucky, his bedroom left the way it was in the morning with your favourite sweater of his laid out on the covers and a little post-it note on top of it. 

    You never could really decipher Bucky’s handwriting. It was absolute chicken scratch as you picked it up and managed to make out in case you get cold scribbled onto it. 

    It was an easy decision to pull it over your head and drown yourself in the scent of Bucky’s cologne as you fiddled with the small gold band you now wore around your neck as a necklace. 

    You didn’t want anyone other than Bucky. There was no in the world who understood you better. Who knew how to make you laugh when you were having a bad day. 

    Everything led you right back to Bucky. 

    So when your phone rang from the other side of the couch, you were secretly hoping it was Bucky. 

    Instead, Tony’s name flashed and your heart sank into your stomach as you quickly hit answer and held the phone up to your ear. 

    “You’re not gonna like this, Kid.” Tony’s voice flowed through the speakers as you took a shaky breath in and braced yourself for what Tony was about to tell you. 

    “He did a damn good job at erasing his history, but you can’t erase all of it,” Tony chuckled as you rolled your eyes, “quit stalling.”

    He sighed, “the Howling Commandos was an organization tasked with,” he paused, “tasked with collecting intel and making sure that information never got released to the public.” 

    This time, it was your turn to fall silent. 

    “Like, spies?” You asked and Tony hummed, “sort of.” 

    “They had spies, agents, hit-men.” 

    No. You shook your head, no. 

    “James Buchanan Barnes was their highest ranking hit-man. Him, along with Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanova worked as a team. A spy, agent, hit-man trio.” 

    You had to shake yourself out of spiralling, what you needed was everything Tony could possible tell you. 

    “Anything on his ex-wife?” You then asked and heard shuffling on the other line, “not much. Mary Barnes, but I doubt that’s her real name, was part of a training initiative the Howling Commandos were testing.” 

    You bit your lip, at least you had a name, even if it wasn’t her real name. 

    “By that point it looks like James—” 

    “Bucky. His name is Bucky.” 

    Tony cleared his throat after a moment’s silence, “Bucky looks like he had disappeared. Blipped off of the face of the Earth. There’s nothing in his file after 2014.” 

    That makes sense. Bucky was perhaps the most old-fashioned man you knew, only upgrading from his flip-phone just a few years ago. He barely knew how to unlock it, though. 

    “Sam and Natasha went on to live normal lives, Kid. I’m sure that’s all Bucky wants.” Tony tries to assure you and you laugh, “you sound like my dad.” 

    He laughed on the other line, “oh gross.” 

    “Thanks for everything, Tony.” You said, “you know what number to call in case you’re in trouble.” 

    With that, you both hung up, tossing your phone away from you to digest everything you’d just been told. You knew you had to talk to Bucky, but you didn’t know when. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    “So you’re tellin’ me,” Sam was confused. “That this is the same Mary that tried to get you killed?” 

    Bucky rolled his eyes, taking another swing of his beer as he rounded Sam’s kitchen island. 

    “That’s the one, you know, the undercover agent working for Strucker.” Bucky scowled at the name. 

    He was angry, beyond angry at the fact that his past was creeping up on him despite how far he had gone to erase it. 

    “But why now? Why come after you now?” Sam poses the question that even Bucky doesn’t have an answer to. So he just shrugs his shoulders and finishes off his beer. 

    “Unfinished business.” 

    They stand in silence for a little while longer, listening to the old ticking clock hanging on the wall before Sam takes a step towards Bucky. 

    “Whatever you need, you know that Tasha and I are here for you, right?” He whispers and Bucky feels the warmth blooming in his chest as he gives him a half-smile. 

    “Yeah,” he nods his head, “thanks, man.” 

    Sam knows that Bucky was never really good at the sappy shit, so he doesn’t force it. Instead, he offers him another beer, bottle necks clinking as Bucky’s thoughts race. 

    He was worried. 

    Not about himself, but about you. 

    And you were worried about Bucky, curling up in his bed as you sighed and tossed and turned. There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep alone tonight. And hugging his pillow just wasn’t enough. 

    So you grabbed your phone, hitting his name and waiting for the ringing to sound before he picked up — tired and groggy.

    “We need to talk.” You didn’t give him a chance to greet you. He sighed on the other line, but hummed in agreement, “tomorrow?”

    You hummed in response to his question, the sound of his voice soothing as you played with the sheets of his bed.

    “I miss you, Sweets.” Bucky whispered, your breathing hitching at how low and raspy his voice really was.

    “I miss you too, Bucky.” You admitted, shifting as you got comfortable on the pile of pillows against your head.

    There was a moment of silence before Bucky spoke again.

    “You know what ‘m really missin’ right now?” His words sent a shiver down your spine as you shakily inhaled, “what?”

    Bucky sighed, reminiscent of how he sighs when he runs his hands all over your body. 

    “I miss that sweet cunt of yours.” Bucky purrs, you know he’s smirking, possibly even dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as he closes his eyes to imagine you under him. 

    You’re at a loss for words, feeling your panties grow damp, core aching and you’re going to have to touch yourself soon. But that’s all part of Bucky’s plan, you think. 

    “Here I am, all alone, with my hand wrapped ‘round my cock,” he whispers, but you can hear him stroking himself. 

    “And all I can think ‘bout is that way your tight little pussy grips me and milks my fuckin’ dick, baby.” Bucky was always so good with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make you melt. 

    And it was working, because you were a squirming mess in his bed. 

    “Well,” you could tell he was smirking by his tone, “what’re ya waitin’ for, Sweets. Go on, touch yourself. I wanna hear you work your clit.” 

    Your hand flew under your panties, being given the permission only made it sweeter as your fingers came in contact with your soaking folds. The sensitive bundle of nerves needed desperate attention as you slowly circled it. 

    “Good girl, that’s my girl.” Bucky praised, continuing to work himself. 

    “God,” he hissed, “can’t wait to have you all to myself again. Bury myself deep, maybe even have you sit on my cock as you beg me to do somethin’.” 

    You worked yourself a little faster, applying some more pressure as you let out a whine at his words. 

    “Add two fingers, Sweets. I know how much you love bein’ stretched,” Bucky chuckled deeply, “been thinkin’ of gettin’ you a mould of my fuckin’ dick for when ‘m not home.” 

    Oh my God. Oh my God that shouldn’t be so fucking hot so why does it make your walls flutter and breathing uneven as you have to stop yourself from actually fucking cumming. 

    He chuckles again, “yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

    You can’t verbally respond, too focused on the tight coil in your abdomen that’s ready to snap. 

    “I know you’re close, can hear it in how fuckin’ desperate you sound,” he pants, “so why don’t you make a mess all over my clean sheets.” 

    You gasp, how did he know, but you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer than a moment because your orgasm rips through you and leaves you panting Bucky’s name. 

    Both of your breaths are uneven and ragged through the phone’s speakers, bed springs creaking on Bucky’s side as he hums. 

    “If only you could see the miss I made for you, Sweets,” you shuddered at his words, closing your eyes to relish in the moment. 

    “Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tone has changed, entirely sweet and caring as you grab the phone to bring him closer to you. 

    “Okay,” you reply, another lick of silence before you hear Bucky going to end the call but you stop him. 

    “I love you, Bucky.” You quickly blubber out and it feels good to finally say those words because there’s no more denying how you really feel about him. 

    “I love you too, Sweets.” 

    It’s a bittersweet ending to the phone call, thoughts and emotions running wild as you’re forced to remind yourself that Bucky has a lot of explaining to do.