#the rest of you who are against trump - thank you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qqueenofhades · 5 months ago

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Hello, qqueenofhades!

I just want to say, that ever since I discovered you in the week following Biden stepping down, you've actually made me not dread talking about politics. I look forward to your thoughts on what's going on, and I want to thank you for that.

I would love to know: What do you think of the apparent exhaustion from Republicans/MAGA about Trump? People leaving his rallies (and that's not even covering how few are even coming at all or his supposedly needing to pay people to come), and the slew of formers we see at the DNC openly talking about their change in sides. Do you have any ideas about what might be causing this shift? Was it Harris? Was it Jan. 6th? Was it one singular reason, or multiple at once?

Hope you're having a good day.

I think it's a lot of reasons. First, as I said earlier, the whole theme of the DNC is about reclaiming the USA FREEDOM message from the Republicans, who have had a monopoly on it for the past three decades at least and used it to justify even more antidemocratic fascist militant theocratic hard-right turns. The scenes of joyful people talking rousingly about hope, compassion, morning in America, and breaking out into regular USA! USA! chants appeals a lot to the average American, who doesn't want to hear constant violent and negative bile from the Orange Felonious Traitor, because that is literally the only thing he has to offer and it's getting openly more deranged and dangerous every day. The whole Tough Talking Populist Outsider shtick worked in 2016, when Trump didn't have four years of incompetent chaos as the actual president and was just a theoretical concept who a lot of people thought would "smarten up" and take it seriously if he actually won. Likewise, the backlash of white grievance against Obama and the complacency that Trump didn't actually stand a chance was able to be leveraged against the decades of smears that the GOP had already leveled on HRC. Of course, Trump lost the popular vote by 3 million-plus, but the Electoral College did what it's designed to do and he snuck in anyway. But it wasn't a rousing landslide or a thumping victory.

As such, a lot of Reagan Republicans are now turning to the Democrats as the actual pro-USA party, because Trump trash-talks America, calls it a shithole third-world country, bellows about WWIII and the Great Depression, cozies up to foreign dictators, etc etc. Reagan also pitched the sunny message of America as the shining moral hero of the world (he in fact used the Make America Great Again slogan that Trump repurposed), and that likewise resonated with people after the chaos and unrest of the 1970s. Now, we all know that I hate Reagan's ass and I hope he's burning in hell for so many reasons, but his message was effective because it gave people a soaring rhetorical vision to believe in (even while he was often stripping away their economic prosperity in particular behind the scenes, all together now, FUCK REAGAN). But the Republicans who joined the 1980s party are now seeing Republicanism become a tawdry cult centered on, as Geoff Duncan (GOP former Lt. Gov. of Georgia) put it yesterday, the worship of a felonious thug. Trump is wildly anti-America; he only uses it as a vehicle to get what he wants, because Donald Trump is all that Donald Trump cares about. Yes, there are still plenty of brainwashed cultists in numbers great enough to make this election far, far closer than it should ever be in any sane universe, but increasingly even his own cultists don't want to hear it anymore. They keep leaving before the event is over and he's drawing far smaller crowd sizes than in 2016, which as we know is pretty much all he cares about. He has a desperate need for attention and approval to feed his damaged narcissistic-sociopath dementia-riddled brain, and he's just not getting it, while the very real prospect looms that if he loses this election (and it looks more and more like he will) he will go to jail for the rest of his life. Terrifying.

That's why we have the unprecedented spectacle of lifelong Republicans and former Trump voters flocking to Harris in large numbers. We've had Republican speakers at the DNC every night, and they keep playing video montages of former Trump voters disavowing him or explaining that they won't vote for him. If you consider what propelled Trump in 2016 -- conservative white grievance against a black guy named Barack Obama -- the willingness to unhesitatingly embrace a black/mixed-race WOMAN named Kamala Harris is incredible. Many of them were already planning to vote for Biden before he dropped out, but it was no certain thing that they would move from being willing to vote for an establishment old white guy to also being willing to vote for a woman and a person of color. The fact that we've had so many high-profile affinity group Zoom events for Harris, including from truly unbelievable quarters (Republicans for Harris, Mormons for Harris, EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANS for Harris), shows that there is a country-wide exhaustion with Trump's poisonous selfish grievance performances, where he's willing to do anything to anyone and turn the USA into a fascist dictatorship if it will exempt him, personally, from the consequences of his odious actions. That is not a message that any sane person can support, and more and more, they don't. As I have said before, that is why fascist movements always sow the seeds of their own destruction. They work for a while, but eventually they're boring, they're mean, they're exhausting, and they offer nothing for anyone but being angry all the time at everyone. Most humans don't like that, and eventually, they drift away.

I also think that part of the reason Kamala absolutely nailed it with Tim Walz as VP is because Walz is the literal anti-MAGA in every way. We have seen a lot of similar straight white military-vet football-coach-type Middle America older men drift into MAGA grievance politics because it offers a home for guys like them and feeds on fear of the future and fear of the other. They feel like they're being heard and understood, even if they aren't, and they vote Republican because they've grown up with Republicans being the pro-America party (however defined). But because Walz is a straight white married military-vet football-coach guy who actually models a joyful and compassionate masculinity, an openly emotional and supportive masculinity, who talks movingly about his love for his wife and children, who is a hunter and gun owner who nonetheless loves kids more than guns, who has taken his small-town rural-America values and become an effective and genuinely progressive politician focused on making ordinary people's lives better, he offers a total antidote to MAGAism. He shows that it is possible to be a traditionally manly American straight white guy who is not a gibbering conspiracy theory-addled shitbag dedicated to trampling on everyone else out of reactionary fear. He shows those guys that they can embrace the diverse future and not have to fear it, and he gives them a permission structure to vote for Democrats because it's the right thing to do AND feel that the Democrats are now the real pro-America party.

Basically, right now, Walz is the most popular member on either ticket, and he's crushing Vance into oblivion (there's something like a 27-point difference in their favorable/unfavorable spreads) because Vance is a horrible robotic hateful gremlin and Walz is an authentic and genuine person who a lot of traditionally Republican-affiliated men (and women!) can identify with. He's also the guy who came up with the devastating "weird" attack line that the GOP can do nothing with except splutter and whine, like playground bullies, that no YOU'RE THE WEIRD ONE. He models that it's actually normal to want your leaders to be compassionate human beings who want to use power to make your lives better, and not hateful fascist alt-righters dedicated to making you also hate everyone and be steeped in doom and gloom. That is why people responded so well to Obama in 2008 after the turmoil of the Bush Jr. years, and why this feels even more monumental than Obama. We won't know until the votes are counted, but this giant tsunami just rose out of nowhere when Harris took over, and it's speeding forward in a really incredible way. We've got to do the work and we've got to vote, but if we do, we could absolutely pulverize Trump and MAGA to smithereens in a way that means it wouldn't be able to come back for a good long while, and oh, what a glorious day that would be. So yes.

#championashley #ask #politics for ts #harris walz 2024

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toournextadventure · 8 months ago

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a novel life pt.5

Summary: Your girlfriend is an up-and-coming serial killer. Your girlfriend's little sister and her partner are also up-and-coming serial killers. With summer fast approaching, maybe you all need to get out of the city. Some fresh air never hurt anybody, right?

Word Count: 4k Warnings: swearing, mentions of Scream violence, smut (18+) Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

Life with three chaotic good villains was… interesting.

You didn’t necessarily live with J and Tara; they had their own apartment at this point in time. It had been a decision made after you had officially asked Sam to move in with you. Honestly, it had seemed like a silent relief to both sisters that they didn’t have to tell the other to leave, instead creating a mutual, respectful decision between them.

That did not, however, stop them from coming over to yours and Sam’s at all hours, day or night.

Most of the time they came over for food. Which, to you, was rather ironic considering you were the only one out of the bunch who, on most occasions, couldn’t cook. You were under the sneaking suspicion they simply did it to be close to Sam again. It was understandable. Neither of them could bear to tell her that they missed her. That was something you had picked up on fairly quickly in your relationship.

The other times they came over, however… those were rather interesting. And Sam was not exempt.

“Not in the apartment,” you called out the moment you heard the door open.

“It wasn’t in the apartment,” Tara said with a huff. You knew it was her way of showing she cared.

“It was across the street,” Sam finished, followed quickly by the door clicking shut.

You sighed but quickly went back to your lesson plan. By all accounts, they were correct. It wasn’t in the apartment. And you would give them a little more; they weren’t on the premises either (another new rule you had enacted over the past few months). They were following rules.

Barely. But they were.

There was shuffling behind you - a sound you had unfortunately grown accustomed to - before someone sat down beside you. That was also something you were used to, and Sam’s head quickly fell to rest on your shoulder. Her breathing was even. You placed an awkward, sideways kiss on the top of her head.

“Did they match the criteria?” You asked. You underlined something on your lesson plan.

“Yes,” Sam said. “They matched.”

“She was creeping on some kid,” Tara chimed in from the kitchen. “And no, she wasn’t the mom.”

“Priors?” You asked.

“Stalking and domestic battery,” Sam answered.

“Which is on the list!” Tara called out.

Yes, you supposed they were. And they would know what was on the list; you had given all three of them laminated copies of what criteria could somehow justify their actions. Not that you condoned them, it still gave you the creeps, but if they were going to do it then they were going to be responsible. You weren’t going to be a jail bunny, or whatever they called those people.

Even with them following the rules that you continued to add to, you weren’t comfortable with the fact that they were killing people. Even the most awful people deserved a chance to live, did they not? Capital punishment had never been something you supported, and this was simply an individualistic version of it.

But Sam was pretty, and you loved her, and that alone could trump your personal beliefs.

“There’s no blood on my floor, correct?” You asked.

Sam tensed up against you and lifted her head. The noises in the kitchen ceased. You kept your nose buried in your books out of some sort of silent respect. When Sam stood up, you got your answer. You would give them some time to clean up; sometimes accidents happen.

God, you were starting to feel like your mother.

“There’s no blood on your floor,” Sam said when she finally sat beside you. After having cleaned the floor.

You smiled to yourself before straightening up and looking at her. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning in for a light kiss on her lips.

The lesson plan was the least of your worries for the evening. Sure, it was almost time for finals, and graduation was in two weeks, but your mind was preoccupied. How long had it been since you had spent any significant time with Sam alone? To the best of your knowledge, it had been at least since you had discovered their… secret.

You could vaguely hear Sam and Tara talking, but you were still staring aimlessly at your books. When had Tara and J done something together last? Not including killing, of course, you knew they did that all the time. But a weekend getaway, or an actual vacation. Had they ever gone on a vacation together? You and Sam surely hadn’t yet.

A-ha! That was it!

It was only a few days later that you talked with J and told them your plan. They practically jumped at the idea. After all, why wouldn’t they? It would give them alone time with Tara - away from New York City - and it would give you alone time with Sam. It only took one evening of planning before everything was set, and all you had to do was tell your respective girlfriends. Easy enough, right?

Oh, how naive you were.

“It’s just for one week,” you practically whined as you followed Sam through rush hour traffic. “Surely that couldn’t hurt.”

“I’m not just leaving Tara alone for a week,” she said without turning around. “Not since the attacks.”

“Darling, you cause the attacks now,” you said. “And so does Tara, and J, and I truly believe they’ll be alright without us.”

You reached out and pulled Sam closer when a car rushed by, splashing water where she had just been standing.

“I trust them,” she said. An exhale. “I mostly trust them.”

“Then where is your concern?” You asked. “Where is your hesitation?”

Sam didn’t say anything. She kept looking out at the street even as you pulled her a little closer, again, to the wall behind you. People continued to mill around and you didn’t want her to get run over, or worse, cussed out. You were aware of how volatile she could get when she was already stuck in her own mind. The last thing anyone needed was for her to lose her temper at some poor passerby who just wanted to keep walking unobstructed.

“I don’t trust other people,” she said, finally turning back to look at you. “They’ve both been attacked, what if it happens again?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I won’t be there to help.”

You slid your hand down her arm to lock your fingers together. “My love,” you said. You waited until she looked up at you. “Tara is cold-blooded and calculated.” She smiled. “J is from a long line of criminals.” A laugh. “I believe they will be just fine.”

Her smile eased from laughter to something softer. There was a light spark in her eyes, something you only saw when, surprise, she wasn’t worried about Tara. And even though she would never admit it, she worried about J as well. They argued like siblings incessantly, but they cared about each other in their own way. It was almost sweet.

“Okay,” she finally said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips. She tasted of smoke. “One week won’t hurt.”

—---

You were questioning every decision you had made to lead to where you currently were.

If you had known that Samantha Carpenter, who had packed up her life and left on her own at 18, was a horrible road trip partner? You would have gone to Paris with Tara and J. It would have been the same time, give or take, but at least the ride would have been more luxurious.

But no, Samantha Carpenter, a literal Slasher icon, wasn’t a fan of road trips.

Sam sighed, and your grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“My dear,” you said, “we really haven’t got much longer.”

Though your eyes were focused on the road, you heard her shift. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, “they’re alright.” Your tone was indicative of just how often you had said that sentence in the past six hours.

“Do I have a problem?” She asked. “Am I overprotective?”

“Yes,” you said. A car passed going far too fast. “You’re overprotective.”

“I need to relax, don’t I?”

You unclenched your jaw and loosened your grip. She was trying. Letting go of the reins wasn’t really something she was adept at. Now, you could understand, your mother was the same way. Not… quite to the same degree as Sam… but it was comparative. You knew, realistically, she wished to relax and enjoy the week. She just needed a moment to decompress and accept that she was allowed to relax.

“Everything will be alright, love,” you said. “They will be fine, and you will be able to relax.” You turned your head to meet her eyes. “I promise.”

She smiled at you and reached over to place her hand on your upper thigh before looking back out her window. Her fingers scratched lightly against your inner thigh. It wasn’t scandalous or risque. At best, it was a comforting touch; she often did it on your arm.

That didn’t appear to matter to your body, which was very much working itself up as she continued her innocent gestures.

You could act on these feelings once you arrived. There would be no fear of anyone walking in on you and interrupting the moment. Wait, that would be wonderful. You could act on those feelings twice! In one night! Just the thought had you shifting in the driver’s seat and ignoring the slight look Sam gave you.

By the time you pulled up to the campgrounds, you were thoroughly wrecked. The very thought of having genuine alone time with Sam was all-encompassing, and you were starting to thoroughly question if you needed to go into town to grab a few things for your stay. This was turning into the best decision you had ever made in your life!

“I’ll stretch my legs while you talk, if you don’t mind,” Sam said once you were both out of the car.

“Of course,” you said as you gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

The small cabin at the front of the park was cute; you didn’t much like the taxidermied deer heads on the wall, but you could look past it. It was homey, and you felt pretty safe considering you were practically in the middle of Nowhere Maine. There were lovely little couches, a beautiful oak end table, and the employee desk looked to be… mahogany? Perhaps?

“You ready to get your keys, camper?” The too-cheery employee asked. It was over the top and slightly grating, but you could appreciate the faux excitement.

He led you to the desk and got to work handing you the keys to the cabin you had rented. It wasn’t supposed to be anything extravagant, more like a place where you could both rest, relax, and enjoy the scenery. A lovely little firepit outside, a hammock, a supplied cast iron skillet. You were in your element.

You hoped Sam liked it too. Surely she would. Hopefully.

“Ready?” You asked as you walked back to the car.

Sam was leaning against the car with a half-finished cigarette resting between her lips. Smoking was a horrid habit; it stunk, it clung to clothes, and it was bad for your health. But you couldn’t deny she looked extremely sexy while she did it. The way her lips moved…

You needed to get her into the cabin. Quickly.

She smiled her beautiful smile. “Ready.” She took one more large inhale of the cigarette before putting it out on the bottom of her boot.

You were feeling very uncomfortable as you opened the door for her and practically raced to the other side. The cabin couldn’t be too far away, the park wasn’t exactly that big. And you were right. The trip only took another 10 minutes before you pulled up to the adorable little cabin.

And it was rather adorable.

It only took a few moments to get the bags from the back and get into the cabin. The inside was just as adorable as you had imagined, and judging by the near-instant relaxation of Sam’s shoulders, she agreed. Internally, you cheered. Hopefully, she could stay relaxed for the week. It was no less than she deserved, and she had more than earned it.

You practically demanded she take the time to sit, walk outside, relax a bit while you made dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy - you may not know how to cook real meals, but you knew how to camp - but it was nice. Something you could finish in only a few minutes that wouldn’t make you both feel miserable after a day of driving. And once it was all over, you could finally take the time to enjoy the feeling of being away from everything.

“How is it, darling?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around Sam’s waist from behind.

She hummed and leaned back into you. “It’s quiet.”

“Is that a good thing?” You asked again. You placed a lingering kiss behind her ear.

Sam turned around in your arms, quickly throwing her own arms around your neck. She looked at peace. You wondered if that was how she had looked before everything had fallen apart for her. There hadn’t been extensive talk of her past, but you knew things had essentially been ruined for her around her teenage years. Had she seemed carefree like this?

“It’s a very good thing,” she said softly.

With her fingers lightly scratching the back of your neck, that uncomfortable feeling continued to get worse. She had made you feel impatient for the past two hours at least. And her hands were on your skin, and she looked so beautiful, and you loved her so much. You could be forgiven for leaning forward to kiss her.

Sam wasted no time in pulling you closer. Her breath tickled against your cheek. With her body pressed entirely against yours, you couldn’t help but notice how perfectly you fit together. That was what love should be. Love was feeling like your bodies were molded, formed specifically to perfect each other.

“Turn your brain off,” Sam whispered against your lips.

“I’m thinking about how much I love you,” you specified.

She smiled. “Stop thinking and show me.”

Your hands slid down her hips to grab her behind her thighs. The pressure on your neck tightened as you lifted her up. She smiled against your lips, and you almost got distracted again. There was nothing quite like feeling Sam smile against you, no matter the circumstance.

You weren’t distracted for long.

There hadn’t been much time to get acquainted with the cabin, but you knew your way around well enough to carry Sam over to the couch. A large window overlooked the main room, and through it, you could see the stars and moon shining down. With the utmost care, you laid her down on the couch beneath you.

“We’re child-free this week,” you said.

She let out a huff of air. “I guess we are.”

“That means we can do whatever we want,” you continued.

Slowly, her smile grew. She was finally understanding what you were getting at. No one else around. That meant no needing to be quiet out of respect for your unwanted guests. Which meant you could do anything you wanted, at any time, for however long you wanted.

The arms around your neck tightened once again, pulling you down into another kiss. You didn’t dare break it as you moved around on the couch, trying to get a little more comfortable without possibly squishing Sam underneath you. At least from the new angle, one of your hands was free.

If there was one thing you didn’t like about Sam, it was that she usually wore tighter clothing. As stunning as she looked in it, it made it a little more difficult to slide your hand underneath her shirt. You didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for her; that was the opposite of what you wanted.

“Hang on,” Sam mumbled against your lips.

Her arms pulled away, but only to your chest. She pushed back against you until you sat up and she quickly followed. You sat mesmerised as she pulled the tight tank off. After all the time you had spent with her, you didn’t think there would ever be a time you weren’t thrilled every chance you got to see her.

“Take it off,” Sam said. The words were an order, but her tone was softer.

Right. Right, you needed to take your shirt off too, you couldn’t just sit there and stare at her the entire night. Well, you could, but you couldn’t only sit there and stare at her all night. Your movements weren’t as sift as hers, instead just pulling your shirt from behind until you could throw it to the floor.

You leaned forward and rested your hands on her hips, eager to remove those pesky pants of hers. They made her legs look wonderful, but they were in the way. But before you actually made a move, you froze and looked back up to meet her eyes.

“May I?” You asked.

There had been numerous occasions where Sam had practically scolded you for stopping and asking. You would know if I didn’t want to, she had said. But you had been raised with manners; only a verbal yes equaled consent. Even though you knew exactly what her answer would be, you wouldn’t dare risk misinterpreting her actions.

“Yes,” she said with a soft smile.

You smiled back, a big toothy grin, before gently laying her back on the couch and sliding her pants down her legs. Inch by inch, you saw her skin exposed. Flawless, even with its flaws. Splendid in its softness, a startling contrast to the roughness of your own fingertips. You could have sat there and worshipped her from her feet to her head, and it would have been an evening well spent.

Once her pants were off, you tossed them to the side and let your hands roam up her legs. Squeezing lightly on her calves - she would appreciate a massage later - before moving up to her thighs. Those thighs that held power behind them, that you loved to feel around your waist. Or your head.

You were so entranced by her that you didn’t even notice her move. The next thing you knew, hands were on your chest and you were falling back onto the other end of the couch. Those thighs you had been so captivated with were now on either side of your hips, and Sam, in all her beauty and glory, was leaning over you.

“You didn’t bring anything special,” she said as she leaned closer.

You squeezed her hips lightly. “No I didn’t.”

“I suppose you’ll have to wait until tomorrow then,” she continued.

Oh, she was going to be mean. It was in the way she slowly, torturously moved her hips. She was in just the right spot for you both to feel the slightest bit of relief, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close. But there was a small uptick of the corner of her mouth, and her fingers were tracing patterns over your chest, and her breath was on your lips, and and and.

If she kept it up, your brain would cease all function.

“You’re teasing,” you said. You did your best not to whine.

“Yes I am,” she said, her hips moving just a little more. “You said it yourself, we’re child-free,” she continued. “Which means no holding back.” There was a glint in her eyes. “Which means I want you to be so frustrated that starting tomorrow, I won’t be able to walk properly.”

Oh. Oh, she was playing a longer game.

You could work with that.

That glint in her eye was dangerous; you had seen it before. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it. However, not once did she say you had to stop for the night. You kept one hand on her waist but let the other slid across her hip and down her thigh. Her breath hitched for a moment when you brushed against the inside of her thigh.

Part of you wanted to keep her as frustrated as you were. She had started all of this teasing in the car. You had been feeling pent up for hours already, and she thought she was just going to get off while you suffered? You didn’t show it often, but you could be just as cruel if you wished.

The other part of you wanted to hear her moan.

That was the part that won.

You were soft with your movements, tracing little patterns into her skin as you made your way around her thigh and- oh god she was wet. She had been just as pent up as you, it seemed. Any sensibilities were gone at the knowledge that she had been waiting for you, that she was almost to the point of needy.

Her hips moved to meet your fingers. The softest of moans fell from her lips when you ran your fingers over her clit. There it was, the first sound. The thing that could get you to lose all morals, all thoughts, you were filled with nothing but the desire to please her. To have her moan again and again.

Instinct took over; a primal desire. She was so wet your fingers slid into her with ease. Your mouth fell open as you felt her around you. It never lost its wonder. But you didn’t move your fingers again. If Sam was going to leave you to suffer for the rest of the night, you were at least going to make her work for it.

She let out a small whine when she realised it too.

“Come on, darling,” you said. “Be a good girl and ride my fingers.”

“You’re such a dick,” she huffed. But you noticed the smallest hint of a smile.

Her hands rested on your chest as she started to move her hips. Slowly, methodically, testing out just how much you would actually help her. Which, you would admit, was more than you had initially planned. You hadn’t intended to move at all; she would truly need to work for it.

But the beautiful look on her face, the quiet sounds coming from her lips, the way her body moved against yours? You couldn’t help it. Your hand on her hip helped her move even as she started to speed up. When she was in just the right spot, you would curl your fingers, drawing the most melodic moan out of her. That alone was enough to convince you to help her.

As her movements got faster, you sat up. Her arms quickly wrapped around your neck, holding you closer. You liked this position much better; you could feel every movement, every breath. Her body would tense up when you would curl your fingers, and when you positioned your thumb right over her clit? Oh, it was beautiful.

Sam wasn’t a loud person, but when you were so close, her moans were all you could hear. They were like music to your ears. She was close; you could feel it in her jerking movements and the little whimpers she couldn’t hold back. Your arm snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against you and kissed her.

She moaned into your mouth when she came. Hell, you were so pent up it was almost enough to make you cum. Her movements dictated when you stopped yours; you helped her ride it out until she fell slack into you. She shifted until her head rested on your shoulder.

“You did so good,” you whispered into her hair, leaving a lingering kiss immediately after. “My beautiful girl.”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt her lips press against your bare shoulder.

“What happened to making me work for it?” She asked in a breathy voice.

You let out a short huff of laughter. “What can I say,” you started. “I’d do anything for you.”

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

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beauty-funny-trippy · 2 months ago

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• TALIBAN spokesperson, Zabihullah Mujahid, told CBS News that the militant Afghan group admires Trump's views. A second Taliban leader said, "Trump might be ridiculous for the rest of the world, but he is sane and wise man for the Taliban." (source)

• Former KKK leader, David Duke, says Donald Trump promoted his racist propaganda about "white replacement" and made them mainstream. (source)

• Neo-NAZI Leader, Jeff Schoep, thanks Trump for promoting their fascist propaganda (authoritarianism, anti-lgbtq, antisemitic, anti-Muslim, anti-democracy), for legitimizing their beliefs, and for bringing white supremacy into the “mainstream.” (source)

America has repeatedly rejected these groups because of their immoral, un-American beliefs, ...but they haven't given up.

They know Trump is the candidate who can tear down the American dream and build the kind of America they desire — a nation where children can be raised in a culture of racism, fascism, and misogyny — immersed in a trifecta of hate. They want to normalize violence and repression against any group of people who are not like them.

The Nazis, the KKK, and the Taliban terrorists are standing with Trump.

Who do you stand with?

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bi-astolfo · 2 months ago

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Hey, everyone who didn’t vote because of the administration’s support of Israel how’re y’all feeling now? Huh? Now what? We’re still gonna support Israel under Trump’s administration and he’s signaled that he’s a staunch supporter of the genocide and urges them to “finish the job.” Meanwhile, Kamala Harris spoke out against the killing in Gaza but I guess that doesn’t matter.

Then what about the people at home? If they’re both just as bad when it comes to the genocide in Gaza then why not vote based on another issue? I guess trans people’s lives don’t matter to y’all? Having the supreme court conservatively stacked for the rest of our lives didn’t matter? Abortion rights? Gay marriage? The fact that they attempted a coup and were gearing up to try again if they election didn’t go their way? None of that mattered enough to get you to vote?

A lot of people are saying that anger should be directed toward the right and the people who voted for Trump. But so what? It’s not like my opinion matters to them. As a queer man, my life doesn’t even matter to them. It apparently matters to the the left but your lack of voting sure doesn’t show it.

So yeah, thanks for making a stand! You may have literally picked a hill to die on! Nevertheless, I hope you all live to regret it.

#us elections #donald trump #kamala harris #gaza #israel #politics #rant

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hotheadedhero · 5 months ago

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hey so how do you think 2003 or 2012 Leo would deal with a super sweet yet fiesty s/o? Like he is in their house and he apologises for breaking in, he just needed a safe haven to relax and s/o is like casually “If it was anyone else I’d beat them up, but you can break into my house any time you want. I actually trust you”?

AN: We going with 03! The wheel has spoken :P

Exception

Leonardo x Reader

What a week. As far as cleaning the streets of criminal activity goes, it’s been one of the hardest to date. At every turn, there are muggings, burglary, vandalism, all around chaos. You name it. Pure, unbridled chaos and every time the boys think they’re safe to rest up for five minutes, something else pops up and they’re back at it. By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense. New York isn’t without its delinquency but these rates are bizarre even by their standards. If this is all part of a bigger picture then they’ve got some big fish to fry.

As it would turn out, it was: a large-scale operation by a nameless syndicate, orchestrated in the hopes of tiring out the turtles beyond their threshold. If they’re too overworked to engage in their usual vigilante-ing, thieves and rogue punks alike could swarm the streets without having to worry about capture. It would have worked, too, were it not for one of the crooks and his blabbermouth. They can thank Casey and his questionable scare tactics for that one. Who’s to judge when it gets results?

Regardless, the boys couldn’t wait to settle down back home. Leonardo more so than anyone else. He’s ready to sit down with some candles and mentally scrub himself of this strenuous endeavour. The problem with that, however, is that his siblings have their own unique choices of downtime and they’re not exactly the quietest. Machinery hums on one side of the room, occasionally accompanied by shrieking metal. The other side of the lair vibrates with the heavy boom of hip-hop. Even the gentle click-clack of knitting needles just across from his is grating on the ears. He can typically drown out the sounds of his brothers but he’s worn to the point that even meditation won’t do the trick. There’s only one thing for it: he needs to get some air. Better yet, he needs to see you. It’s been far too long.

Before dating, you both knew there would be nights and even stretches of such where you would go without seeing one another. Plans can change last minute if trouble is afoot. Dates cancelled for the sake of pedestrian safety. That being said, these last half a dozen days have been the longest length of time you’ve endured without each other. Maybe he could surprise you with his return. You’d think he learned from the times he and his brothers have unexpectedly crashed April’s that, that would be a bad idea. This is you, though. Arguably, you’re a bit more temperamental at times but he knows your soft spot for him could trump that. Probably.

Without thinking of the possible ramifications, he trudges along to your apartment. Albeit, it’s taking a lot longer to get than normal. He’s aware of how drained he is but walking through the sewers shouldn’t be this difficult. He’ll be thankful when he finally reaches you. Perhaps he’ll even be lucky enough to lay dead in your arms if he hasn’t pushed his luck by barging in unprompted. He quietly chuckles at himself, knowing you’d call him out for being such a sap.

Leo finally makes it to the manhole cover and pushes it off with some strain. The weight of it burns his muscles, nearing the point of shaking. Nonetheless, he drives through and lets out a breath when it clangs against the tarmac. Not his most graceful of exits but he supposes he can be excused at least this once. The extra ache is worth it for the sweet wave of serenity that washes over him when he sees your window. It’s a dim light. No doubt it’s from your living room lava lamp - the one with the orange wax that emits this gentle, pink-amber glow. It’s reminiscent of a sun-kissed sky that you can enjoy in the sanctuary of your own home. He likes that one. You always turn it on when the city enters night; when you want the sunset to last just that little while longer.

Without wanting to lose another second, he carefully positions the manhole cover back in place and advances up your fire escape. He peeks through your window on the off chance he might catch you. When you’re nowhere to be found, he slides the glass up and climbs through as quietly as his irritated legs will allow him. He’s about to call your name when something suddenly hits him on the head.

“Ow!” he yells out and rubs on the sore spot. The main lights flick on and there you are, standing in a readied pose with your bat raised high. “Couldn’t you do that in a batting cage or something?”

“Leo?” Your eyes gape wide as your stance falters.

In the dully lit room, all you saw was a figure. A figure sneaking into your home. It could have been anyone or anything. Obviously, your first port of call was to take action. Befriending and even dating one of the city’s self-proclaimed saviours means potential for a target on your head. There’s no telling who or what could come for you should they want to lure the turtles in with live bait. What you hadn’t anticipated was your loving turtle in blue to be the one tiptoeing into your apartment. You prop the bat on your shoulder and lean on the wall with the other.

“Ever heard of a phone?” you ask through a playful murmur.

One corner of his lips turns up into a coy smile and he laughs sheepishly, “Sorry, it’s been a long week.”

You have half a mind to remind him why breaking into someone’s home in a crime-infested New York is a recipe for disaster but he looks beat enough as is. Whilst you haven’t had much of a chance to talk this past week, you’re more than aware of what he’s had to deal with. If he’s here now, that must mean it’s been officially dealt with and taken care of. Good thing, too, because it seems like he could drop at any given moment. Oh. The baseball. Your boyfriend has been working himself to the bone and you’ve just whacked him in the face with a baseball.

Bashfully, you click your tongue and glance away. There are definitely better ways to greet your significant other. It’s likely he’ll use this against you when he’s feeling particularly cheeky in the future but you won’t worry about that now. You push your body off the wall and point at him with your baton.

"If it was anyone else, they'd be a bloody pulp by now." You prop the bat on the wall and turn away to your kitchen with a shrug. "But, sure, break in any time you want. You're lucky I trust you."

Your words hold a sarcastic nature, almost satirical, but he knows you mean well. The meaning behind them holds a sweetness. An apology wouldn’t have gone amiss but he did technically break in. He’ll hold his hands up and admit fault. Permission has been given at least. Not that he thinks he needed it before but if it saves him another bruise, it’s a win.

You truly love your friends to pieces but, if you’re being honest, they have their individual set of havocs they’d thrust upon your home were it them in place of your boyfriend. Raph the least, ironically enough, but his sai have a nasty habit of poking holes in your couch any time he sits down. Donnie often has a gadget on him you'd be too fearful of setting your furniture on fire. As for Mikey? He’s a food fiend who can and will deplete you of all your snacks. Let's not forget Casey but he’s a walking health and safety hazard if ever you met one. His visiting rights have been revoked after what he did to your Christmas ornaments and it’s the last time you’ve ever and will host for the holidays. You don’t like to talk about it. So, yeah, if there's any one person who can freely invite themself to your home, it's the turtle you love most.

When you’ve finished packing a cloth with ice, you sit Leonardo down and hold it to his head. His face scrunches up before easing and he smiles at you softly. This may not have turned out to be the romantic surprise he thought it would be but he’s glad to be back in your presence - in your home surrounded by personifications of your selfdom.

“That was a good shot, by the way,” he compliments, sporting that impertinent grin you’d expected.

Your teeth clasp down on your bottom lip, fighting an annoyed smile. “Don’t give me an excuse to use your shell as target practice,” you warn but the following kiss to his bruise reveals your empty threat. “But, thanks. Sorry for hitting you in the first place.”

His brows raise at you. “I’m sure you could make it up to me.”

You hum in response and shove the ice pack in his face. Your choice to tend to his wounds after he impolitely infringed on you is you making it up to him. Ungrateful pinhead. He’s lucky you love him. Very lucky indeed.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2003 #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #leonardo #leo #leonardo 2003 #leo 2003 #tmnt leonardo x reader #x reader #request #answered

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schoolhater · 2 months ago

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it is election day. i wrote a little essay to share with my IRLs who can't fathom why i might want to abstain from participating in the bloodshed by putting holocaust harris in power, or giving the transpbobic and anti-abortion green party federal campaign money. i've reposted the entire thing under the cut for anyone who wants to read.

but before i begin: donate to mohammed al-habil. he is recovering from surgery, his little sister is chronically ill. the genocide ruined his senior year of high school. it’s his birthday today. he should be celebrating and instead he’s begging on an internet full of people trying to justify the continued destruction of his entire people.

learn more + donate

i keep hearing from people defending their choice to vote for the genocider that even though the democrats are bad, the republicans are worse. or that this election is the most important one. i often see trolley problems that declare that the *only* people who would suffer under the democrats would be palestine, and, because *americans* would suffer under the republicans, we have to put aside our grievances about the potentially-three-hundred-thousand-and-thiry-five people who have been murdered in the past thirteen months and offer our full support to the person who did it.

nearly every time settler colonialism has occurred in history, the first wave of settlers is some vulnerable yet radicalized population who believes they will achieve prosperity in the new world. the uae-backed rsf is establishing settlements using refugees from other african countries in southeast sudan right now. the first wave of israeli settlers were poor. even herzl planned this in the 1890s, in 'the jewish state' he writes that the first wave of settlers should be poor farm workers. and now, the modern settlers in the illegally occupied west bank live in and they are the most radicalized most. despite facing extreme racism within israel, arab israeli settlers are among the most radical zionists. the first settlers in america were poor and tired religious extremists from britain. when they came here they didn't have shit except the military backing of the empire and the carte blanche to commit massacres of indigenous people.

imperialism needs these vulnerable people. it needs to funnel the oppressed populations it creates back into the machine to enact further violence. these people are effective cannon fodder against the indigenous population. they are vulnerable enough that they cannot resist, but their lives are comfortable enough thanks to subsidized housing and special treatment that they begin to identify wholly with the imperialist entity, so they don't even want to. if you're stuck thinking 'well, of course kamala and trump are the same to palestine, but trump will be worse for us!' you've taken the bait. that's exactly the kind of attitude that is allowing this genocide to happen right now. do you know why the usa gives subsidized healthcare to israelis? why we give so many benefits to veterans? why do thousands of people risk their entire lives to come here after we destroy their countries? the usa wants to recruit you into participating in the genocide of gaza so you never oppose it, because it would mean opposing yourself.

even kamala harris knows this. multiple times she's repeated some version of "sure people care about the genocide, but they also care about the price of eggs" as if these things are remotely comparable. because to her supporters, they are. to americans, the rest of the world does not even exist.

i said this on my instagram story and i'll say it again - we understand that the israeli elections are just a performance of democracy to pacify criticism of a violent genocidal apartheid system. none of us would really care if netanyahu stepped down tomorrow because we would see the bombings continue. well, america is the world's "israel"! to the rest of the world, america is that attack dog that only ever brings death and suffering. and regardless of which party is in charge, that doesn't change. and the democrats arent even hiding it anymore.

what the discourse around this election and seeing so many people i once respected voting for the genocide has taught me is that there is no red line for the majority of americans. we are the most self centered, narrow minded, backstabbing group of settlers on this earth. we have seen the terrorist organization that occupies the land we live on fund 70% of the most vile horrific crimes against humanity - the most nightmare inducing rapes, tortures, kidnappings, incarcerations, concentration camps, people being burned alive, people being ripped apart, rendered unrecognizable as human bodies, literally vaporized, killing over three hundred thousand people over thirteen months - and we still want the entities that did all this to exist tomorrow. we want to invest into a future in which all of this still exists.

and when asked to stop, we will threaten to do worse. a greater evil is imagined.

what does this make us?

....

i refuse to participate in this bullshit even to support a third party candidate. i refuse to be bought. i refuse to invest my time and energy into an institution that kills children. i don’t care who runs it.

i wanted to push back against this idea before the polls close as a sort of last ditch effort to be heard. i am not being heard right now. i have gotten into way too many arguments with people i once respected over why voting in favor of a genocide might not be the best idea. and every time i am met with utter disrespect - i am not treated as a person with a political perspective based on my experiences and learning, i am treated like an idiot. and the people voting for genocide are pragmatists, somehow. in lieu of a reason to disagree with me they resort to belittlement. i feel betrayed. i hope this rant changes some minds; if not, let it explain why i treat you differently now.

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nteyamsully · 2 years ago

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dad!neteyam were teenage reader gets into a fight and shes like really fucking angry and only neteyam can calm her down and its just loads off comfort and cutesy shit to heal my daddy issues

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you for the request anon ! instead of teenage reader, i decided to make the reader as the mom but it still focuses on neteyam and his daughter. i just think it'd be cute too to have it from the mom perspective. i hope you enjoyed this <3 a part 2 is coming !

summary they say a fathers' first daughter is a female version of him. neteyam begs to differ because his princess has way too much fire in her than he did.

pairing dad! neteyam x oc! daughter, neteyam x reader

word count 1.7k

warnings edited, neteyam just being a dad girl, suggestive content, just youngest children doing what they want, mentions of bullying, violence such as punching, blood

glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), pa'li (direhorse)

PART 1 ; PART 2 (wip)

You always had believed that having four kids that weren't too old apart would be a wonderful family balance. The second child would have someone to look up to but also have the responsibility of looking after their younger siblings, the third child would not have to rely only on one older sibling but rather two, and the youngest would be able to learn and receive different insights on things from their older siblings.

Neteyam said that your ideas were always beautiful and well thought. He loved the idea of having a big family with you. And the two of you did.

Nutxe, your oldest child. While he has his mother's attributes, he behaves precisely like his father. His personality always makes you think of Neteyam. Ki'täm, your second child, was a blessing from Eywa a year later. Identical to his father in every way. Your mate has always made jokes about how three Neteyams would protect you because of how each of his sons were like him.

But you didn't stop there; two years later, you had another boy. Ateyo, your son who resembles you. Unlike his older brothers, he would rather spend his time in the deepest part of the forest. Violence had never been his thing, so becoming a warrior didn't come naturally to him.

A year later, Lili was born. Neteyam loves his sons with his whole heart, but when he his daughter came out of your womb, a new sense of protectiveness awakened in him. It was already clear to you that your babygirl would be a daddy’s girl.

She was constantly spoiled by Neteyam. He was always giving in to her doe eyes, which she used against him since she knew her father would never say no to her. Even as she was growing, she continued using the same tactic.

Your now-teenage children were leaving the hut as you watched them and spoke enthusiastically about being approved to stay a litte late after eclipse. You sighed disapprovingly and looked at your partner.

Incongruously, Neteyam smiled. He moved up to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he encircled your waist with his arms. “They have grown,” he solemnly said.

“No, Mr. Sully,” you laughed. “You do not get to escape this by throwing the trump card. You have to learn how to say no to Lili.”

“I cant believe she is thirteen now,” he sighs.

“Neteyam!” you exclaimed, slapping his hand that rested on your hip.

Your mate chuckles, digging his face on your neck. “I hear you, yawntutsyìp. But know it is difficult when our daughter is exactly like you. Ateyo doesn’t use it against me, but Lili does.”

“And she knows it. It almost feels like if our youngest child attempts murder, you would let her get away with it because she is your favourite.”

Neteyam pouted as he took a step back, holding your shoulders gently as he turns you around. “Lili would never attempt murder.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Enough.” Neteyam pulls you closer to him by tugging the band of your loincloth. “The children wont be here soon. Let’s do something fun.”

Your hands rested on his chest. Before a word could leave out of your mouth, he pressed his lips against yours. You didn’t realise how much you’ve missed having moments like this with Neteyam. It has been far too long.

“Cant believe that you managed to get Dad to say yes,” smiled Ki'täm.

Because their father was aware of the risks posed in Pandora, it was occasionally challenging to win his permission. As lovely as the forest is, it is also dangerous.

Nutxe scoffed, “That’s because this little manipulative baby sister of ours did her magic.” He playfully glared at her before pinching her cheeks.

Lili hissed and slapped his hand away. “Be thankful that I had dad say yes because I’m about to make your life more exciting than it was when you were my age,” she says proudly.

While rolling his eyes, Ateyo kept silent. His sister having anything she wants was never something he liked. At least when she hasn't done anything to deserve it. Never did their father treat them unfairly, though.

Neteyam promised that he would treat all of his children equally. The intense pressure from his father that he experienced as a teenager was something he didn't want with his children. While Neteyam adores his father, he can't help but admit that he was cruel at times.

Ki'täm noticed his younger brothers’ silence, observing how a frown formed on his face. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. “What is wrong? I thought you would love this.”

Ateyo clicked his tongue. “Mom didn’t look like she was happy about it. And you,” he looked at Lili, “stop acting so spoiled.”

Lili rolled her eyes. “This again. Jealous that I get to do whatever I want?”

“Why would I be jealous for being a spoiled brat?” he argued.

“What the hell is your problem?” she exclaimed. “You should thank me that you get to explore the forest around more.”

Ateyo clenched his jaw, holding himself back from raising his voice. He could feel his anger rising by the second and he knew the choice to keep his mouth shut is better. Lili never backs down from anything she sees as a challenge, and by the looks of her face, she sees her argument with her brother as one too.

He always had to be the bigger person between them.

Nutxe pushes his arm in between them quickly. “Stop. You are attracting other people,” he whispered harshly before looking around, making sure that his grandfather isn’t on sight to witness this.

Jake had witnessed far too many of their disputes and had reprimanded them much too frequently when they're involved in violent tussles with other kids. He is Olo’eyktan, it is his duty to make sure there is peace and harmony within the clan. It's not simple at all, especially with his grandchildren causing problems all around.

Just as Nutxe started to feel relieved that both of his siblings listened to him, it disappeared immediately when he heard a voice laced with venom speak up.

“Don’t bother, Nutxe. Your baby sister loves all the attention.”

Risei. She was the bully of the clan. When Lili was a little girl, she witnessed her wrongfully verbally abusing a young na'vi. They were ridiculed only for their personality trait and shyness. Lili reacted angrily to the Risei's audacity by confronting her, however it didn't end happily ever after. And that was how their rivalry began.

“Do not start, Risei,” Lili snarled, her fists clenched. Ki'täm held her forearm and urged her to walk away, but she didn't budge.

Risei mockingly laughed, “Is that supposed to be a threat? You look like a baby pa’li who reacts when they don’t get what they want!” She peered over her little group, seeing them chuckle at her words which made her ego boost.

Ki'täm begged, “Lili.” He didn’t want to get in trouble yet, not when he wanted to explore the forest after eclipse.

“Ah, I forget,” Risei snapped her fingers in fake realization, “You get what you want. You must not know how it feels like, is it why you’re acting like this? Did daddy not give you what you want?”

And something snapped in the youngest sibling. Lili pushed Ki'täm's hold off of her and scowled at Risei. The girl was too busy laughing with her companions to notice her menacing aura. Risei was caught off guard when she felt something hard make contact with her nose, which caused her to lose her footing and collapse to the ground.

“I am so sick of you,” Lili seethed. She didn’t give her time to process and hovered above Risei, continuously slamming her fist on to her.

Risei’s friends hissed and were about to grab Lili, but Ki'täm quickly wrapped his arms on one of them to stop them from getting near. “Nutxe, Ateyo, grab the other two!” he yelled.

Ateyo groaned. Following what his older brother instructed was not the best course of action, but at this point it seemed to be the only option. If a girl attacked his sister, he would gladly be violent for her, but he knows his father and grandfather would skin him alive. As a result, he followed Ki'täm's suggestion.

Nutxe rolled his eyes at their stupidity. He quickly stepped in front of one of Risei’s friends, preventing them from interfering. “Do not,” he ordered, which thankfully they listened. He turned back to his sister, seeing that she had completely executed her anger.

“Lili!” yelled Nutxe. He attempted to pull his sister off her by the shoulders, however, his efforts were futile because she withheld great strength. She’s not recognised as potentially the next best warrior of their clan for no reason.

But the calls of her name were unheard to her. All she could see is red. Truthfully, she wasn’t angry with Ateyo. Her disagreements with him were monotonous and repetitious, which irritated her. Risei had always bothered her and each time, she bottles up her anger to refrain herself from going feral. Bottling all that anger was clearly a bad idea because it still exploded violently.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!” A loud and authorative voice boomed. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop Lili. “Hey! That’s enough!” A pair of strong arms engulfed around her, carrying her off the ground. She growled and kicked her feet in the air.

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. That’s enough!”

Her eyes were still filled with rage, but she continued to breathe heavily. Jake studied Risei's features. A cut on her lip and brow, a broken and bleeding nose, and an eye that is beginning to bruise. He shook his head slowly.

“I am fine,” Lili grumbled in his arms.

Jake dropped her on the ground lightly, staring at his granddaughter intently. “Yeah, I could see that.”

Lo'ak arrived on the scene, wondering as to why everyone was gathered in a circle. His father, whose hands were on his hips and who had his niece in his line of sight, caught his attention first. Then he noticed a female who was weeping with a totally messed up face.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled, eyes wide.

Jake rubbed his temple. “Lo’ak, call your brother and his mate to meet in the family hut,” he looked at the three boys who stood in their positions nervously, “the rest of you follow me.”

Lili remained glued to the spot while keeping an eye on Risei. She was completely guilt-free. She had it coming to her. She deserved it after repeatedly harassing and tormenting defenceless people.

“Lili te Suli (Y/N)’ite. Lets go!”

The voice of the Olo’eyktan made her move. She knew she’s fucked when her parents will find out and her doe eyes wont work this time.

don't forget to reblog, like, and comment your thoughts <3

#avatar fanfiction #avatar twow #james cameron avatar #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully fic #neteyam fluff #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #loak fanfiction #loak sully

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chdarling · 2 months ago

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I am in France and woke up this morning to discover the terrible news. So sorry for the american people and the entire world because the damages will be massive even outside the borders of the USA. Be brave and strong, I think about you, and send lots of love from here (where it is becoming pretty shitty too politically...)

Thank you. I’m incredibly, devastatingly sorry for what this will do to the rest of the world. I don’t even have words. Please know that while half of this country is apparently made up of disgusting Trump-voting fascist scum, there are nearly as many of us who did not want this, who fought so hard against it. It wasn’t enough, but please just know that millions of Americans do not want what happens next. I’m sorry.

#ch answers #I’m honestly numb today #I expect the violent wracking grief will show up in the coming days

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wildshona · 1 month ago

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Catching Up More

Some of my followers complained that I had left my post just as I find my sister in bed with my husband. I am cruel apparently. Lol.

Anyway it was no big deal. I spoke to Chris about it first thing next morning while he was fucking me. Amelia had sneaked away at some stage without disturbing me. Apparently she had come into the bedroom and asked ever so politely if she could hold her for a while because she gets lonely. Well, she had shared a bed from the age of 6 til this August so I kind of get that.

Anyway Chris didn't mind. Family, right? So in she got dressed in her slightly transparent long nightgown. Chris, of course, was naked and soon had a hard cock pressing against her. He wasn't planning on anything just that natural reaction. Anyway, she apparently asked if he would like her to help him with that and then wanked him off til he came. Him lying on his back and she lying next to him. Then they went to sleep. The after effects of which was that I was barely awake when I could feel him pressed againsst my cunt the next morning.

I said to Amelia later that she could have fucked him if she liked and she went bright red. She didn't say anything though.

Anyway I couldn't hang about. After having a bath and chatting to followers while I was in there, I went out to have a bite and spent part of the afternoon watching Tiff perform at the strip club. The guys seemed to think it was funny that I was there and not dancing and I got a lot of attention. I had to tell them that they were supposed to be sitting with the girls who were selling private dances not with a civilian.

Anyway there was one guy who kept saying he would like to see me strip and he was sort of OK. He lived on the state about a couple of hundred metres away so I went back to his place and did a striptease for him and then he fucked me. He was alright nothing special but it took up the rest of the afternoon. He slipped me £100 as I was leaving. Bless, he thought I was a whore. Well I am, I suppose, just not a paid one. Anyway, I said thank you and pocketed the money. I mean what was I supposed to do - get all high and mighty after I'd had a fuck?

As the flat door closed behind me a girl past me and let herself into the flat - his wife or gf no doubt. Fucking man just can't keep it in their pants. Anyway that was the day before yesterday.

Quiet day yesterday - went to see "Raisin in the Sun" with Richard at the NFT. Had a drink afterwards at his place but no sex. He has been working hard on a briefing he and Chris, and me it seems, are having next week with two guys who are apparently briefing Trump's transition team on European affairs. And he is 70, give the guy a break.

#free use slvt #fvcktoy

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lanymme · 4 months ago

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Hi! : ) If fic requests are still open, can I ask for some HakuRin? Perhaps them being gay idiots while the student council are getting a little tired of their oblivious flirting?

It would be my pleasure! I love these two.

Can you believe they gave extraverse Rin such an interesting fetish and then never did anything with it?? Criminal.

Hakuno Kishinami gazes warily down the steps leading out of Elizabeth’s labyrinth and into the final floors before the core.

“… It’s almost showtime. Are you stocked up on healing items? If you don’t have enough, head back and stock up at the Commissary. The jamming is up, but if Meltryllis is waiting for us, you’ll end up fighting. Healing is fundamental; the most powerful strategy."

As always, Rin is right. Hakuno may not remember everything, but she knows she has always been relying on this girl to help her through difficult situations, even before they all formed the student council.

Ignoring Gilgamesh’s insensitive comments, she has to agree with him that, one way or another, her friend is one competent woman. She’s glad they’re on the same side.

She makes her way over to the gateway leading back to the school grounds, and leaves Elizabeth’s labyrinth behind. Vertigo comes over her as she enters that brief white void, and her senses fade back into attunement in the familiar student grounds. As always, the relief from the strange pressure of the labyrinth, so far under the dark waters of the Lunar Sea, is welcome.

Gilgamesh draws up next to her, armor clinking, and makes a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Go. Make your preparations. I have matters to attend to. Don’t keep me waiting.”

In a scatter of blue particles, he disappears, leaving Hakuno alone in the schoolyard. Waving to the contemplative NPC who always sits out against the wall and offers advice, she slides the door open and heads into their little refuge. The wood creaks familiarly underfoot as she crosses the floor.

Truthfully, it’s a relief. She knows she’ll have to face Meltryllis eventually, but she’s still nervous. It’s hard not to think what could happen if that woman catches her, to make peace with the fact that she ultimately has not control over whether they’re attacked. Gilgamesh is the most powerful trump card she could ask for, and even still…

She can't help remembering that spiked kneeplate, charging toward her. The bloodlust in that lovely voice.

Everyone they've lost.

She shivers.

That suspicious priest bows to her, but she can’t deal with him right at the moment. She needs some time with her thoughts.

So she heads up the stairs, and passes the Student Council Room where Rin and Rani are working hard as always, and makes her way to her own personal room to sit down. She closes her eyes, and takes a few deep breaths. It’s all going to work out, if they just keep doing their best, and never give up. The predictions of Seven Days Later don’t have to come true: they can stop it. She has to believe that.

Suddenly, she hears a knock and a polite cough at her door.

Her heart beats a little faster. She checks to make sure it’s all clean.

“Come in!”

Rin slides open her door and steps inside, shutting it behind her. Her face is a little flushed.

“Look!” She says, before Hakuno can say anything. “I just came by to do a follow up exam on you. It was my first time using the Ten Thousand Colored Stagnation, and I want to make sure I didn’t misplace anything in your frame when I changed your spiritron granularity.”

Hakuno considers reminding her that Sakura’s infirmary is just downstairs, but wisely decides against it.

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you. I’m glad to have someone like Rin looking after me. I’m in your hands, as always.”

Rin nods, matter-of-factly, and pulls her over to sit on the bed, a lingering hand resting on her shoulder.

She knows Rin handled it perfectly. But if Rin needs to confirm it for herself, that’s just as important.

Briefly, she communicates to Gilgamesh that she’s receiving a checkup, and that she might be a little bit late. All she receives in return is his laughter. Seriously, what a difficult Servant.

“Okay,” Rin says, imperiously. “Now strip.”

—

She sits there on the bed, uniform shirt off, while Rin examines her back, cool, slender fingers alternating between laying against her skin and clinking on her virtual keyboard. It’s, well. She’s a healthy young lady. It’s just a little embarrassing that Rin can probably see every change in her vitals.

Anyway, this is nice. She smiles fondly while her lecturer continues.

“—and you’re going to buy healing items and equipment like I said, right? You know all of us are relying on you. You have to do whatever you can to maximize your chances of survival, especially against an opponent like Meltyllis. Supplies and preparation are an essential factor in any form of conflict.”

“Of course! I always listen to Rin’s advice—I know I can always count on your support. I just. Well. Had to take a moment to calm my nerves.”

The next touch against her back is slightly less clinical, slightly more sentimental.

The permeable boundary between those two attitudes is just not fair to her heart.

“Anyway, I have more than enough money to throw around as it stands. It might feel nice to just dump a bunch of Sakurament into—Rin?”

Her friend freezes, hand against her back. One of her fingers twitches.

Ah. Right.

She remembers the neon figures of jewels and bills floating through the dark waters of Rin’s heart as she dived down to save her from BB’s control. “Hey! I don’t have a thing about money! I’m going to punch you!”

“…Rin?”

Briskly, her friend jumps up from the bed behind her, and starts making her way to the door without looking back.

“Well! Looks like you’re in good condition, you don’t need anything more from me. I’ll be in the Student Council Room monitoring your linkage to the school, so good luck out—“

“Wait.” Hakuno demands, standing up and taking her wrist. Rin still doesn’t turn back to look at her. “You know I wouldn’t judge you, or make fun of you, right? It’s… it’s okay.”

She can feel Rin’s heart beating in her wrist, fast and hard. She hears her swallow.

Her own heart is pounding in her ears. Her chest writhes with nerves.

It’s now or never.

She takes a step forward, then another, until she’s standing behind her, can feel her warmth.

Then she takes another step forward, one arm coming forward to wrap around Rin’s stomach, holding her tight, pressed up, against her back. That sweater is soft against her skin, and just a little rough.

She tries to put some steel into her voice. To give Rin some direction, something to hold onto, to calm herself. And. Well. Okay, her thoughts have been spinning ever since she saw Rin’s satisfied expression as Elizabeth whipped her with her tail, ever since she collected that Submission Desire SG. Maybe her intentions aren’t 100% pure.

“There’s something else I need you to do for me,” she says, gravely.

Is that… is that her own voice?

Rin trembles, slightly.

Desperately, she keeps hold of her thoughts.

She lets go of Rin’s wrist, still holding her around the waist, and manifests some of her saved up Sakurament with a stored hum. A thick, weighty stack of bills.

She reaches around, and presses them into Rin’s hand. Rin gasps.

“This is 20,000SM,” she says. She lets go of the money. Rin holds on.

Rin whimpers.

“Would you please,” she says, without a hint of question. “Go down to the commissary, and buy some healing items for me?”

She can feel the tension trembling in her friend’s body. She leans in close to her ear, and whispers. “I trust Rin’s decisionmaking to keep me safe.”

The sensation of Rin’s body melting in one ragged breath is the most erotic thing she’s ever felt.

“Y-yes,” she breathes.

“Thank you. Now go on.” She pushes Rin toward the door. “I’ll wait here.”

After Rin leaves, her legs turn to jelly. She sits back on her bed, supporting herself with her hands, and takes deep breaths to calm herself down.

After a few minutes, her heart finally stops racing, and she sighs, looking up at the ceiling.

Did she really just do that?

She has no idea where she got the nerves for something like that. She felt like she was going to pass out.

But more than that, Rin’s little reactions are carved in her memory. Maybe they’ll never go away.

Feeling her shiver. Feeling her relax. Feeling someone she’s always looked up to, admired and chased after giving up control to her. That moment where Rin’s trust in her took over her body.

Damn. Now she’s excited again. She can’t wait for Rin to get back.

She knows she has to face Meltryllis soon, but right now all she can think about is Rin.

And for now, that feels alright.

She realizes she’s still shirtless, and starts to dress herself, hands shaking with adrenaline

—

A few minutes later, there’s another knock on the door. Immediately, Hakuno’s heartbeat is back at full pace, nervousness swirling and tumbling in her chest. She stands up from the bed and opens it.

Rin is standing outside her door. Her face is flushed, and her brow twitches.

Hakuno steels herself, reaches deep down for the courage to push ahead.

She steps out of the way, and ushers Rin inside, who enters walking stiff-limbed.

“Here!”

Rin sticks out her arm toward Hakuno, a small item folder in her hand. She doesn’t look at her.

Hakuno takes it and stows it in her inventory.

“Thank you. I can always count on Rin.”

“You…!” she whips around. “Aren’t you even going to check out what I bought?”

She sounds angry, but looks nervous.

Ah.

Hakuno looks her in the eyes. Earnestly, seriously, she says, “Why would I have to? I know you made the right selection. I asked you because you’re the most competent person I know.”

Rin colors.

“You did what I said, right?”

She nods.

“Good,” Hakuno confirms.

Rin shivers. Her eyes are looking a bit hazy again. Hakuno’s stomach flips. Maybe it’s not fair to push her buttons like this, but Hakuno is doing it. She’s not stopping now.

I”n that case, I have something else I need you to do for me,” she says, with false confidence. She half expects Rin to snip at her for overstepping but… but instead, she’s staring at her, waiting, like Hakuno hung the moon.

Oh. Her eyes look so soft. She looks so relaxed, breathing fast and deep and even. Hakuno swallows.

“I need you to take this for me,” she hears herself say. She raises her hand, and a stack of 20,000 materializes in it. Rin’s eyes track to it like magnets. Hakuno is so turned on she feels like she might faint.

She presses the bills into Rin’s hand, folds the fingers around them. Rin watches it happen, breaths coming quickly, and then looks up at her, expectantly, waiting.

Adorable.

But she doesn’t tell her what to do. Instead, she materializes another stack in her hands.

Rin looks nervous.

She presses them into her other hand. Rin’s eyes track between her outstretched hands. She squeezes the wads of bills, eyes slamming shut, and shivers.

But she opens them again when Hakuno pulls out another stack. She stares up at her, pleading, as Hakuno presses it into her hand, balancing it between the other two. Her eyes say it for her.

It’s too much.

Hakuno pulls out another stack of bills.

Whether her life lasts only the next couple hours or seventy more years, she’ll remember the sound Rin makes until she dies.

Rin holds the 80,000SM in her hands, staring at it in disbelief. Hakuno heroically tries not to melt into a puddle, and instead circles around behind her, starts massaging her arms.

“That’s all yours. I’m giving it to you,” she says.

Rin whines.

But before she can object, Hakuno continues. “But Rin, I want you to do something. Would you please buy me a Mystic Code, and… whatever pair of socks you like best?” She laces her arms around Rin’s waist, and rests her chin on her shoulder. Rin melts into her hold. “It’s your choice,” she murmurs, her own breaths shaking. “The money is yours. But will you spend it all on me, if I ask you to?”

Rin takes one stuttering breath, and then another, and then another. She swallows.

“Yeah,” she says. “I’ll do it.”

—

“U-um, just to be safe, I checked if Kishinami’s condition was normal,” Sakura offers, her voice coming in clearly, if compressed, over the communication line.

Hakuno blows a foggy breath between her hands, and tucks them into her armpits. She looks around in the icy chill of Meltryllis’s hostile, forbidding Labyrinth, eyes tracking to each intersection in sight. Just in case.

“And then… well, it’s just that the temperature is cold on this floor, so I tried to raise Senpai’s body temperature a bit… but it won’t go up. Out of curiosity, I, um, secretly administered a healing item. The effect was negated.”

What.

“HUH?!”

“… I see. Considering this floor represents her “Sadistic Constitution,” it makes sense for it to have this characteristic.” Rani is unshakable as ever.

Hakuno hears a distant scream of frustration come over through Rani’s audio connection. “But it seems Miss Tohsaka is upset by this.”

Gilgamesh laughs heartily at their mistake.

“…Hakunooon, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I still think it was money well-spent.”

After all. The tights Rin put on her are doing a pretty good job of keeping her warm.

#ficlet requests #request fill #rin tohsaka #tohsaka rin #hakuno kishinami #kishinami hakuno #hakurin #fate extra ccc #fate/extra ccc #fate series #my writing

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

Delicate (Superstar Chapter 4)

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

'Cause I like you

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it chill that you're in my head?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Roy and the Reader deal with the aftermath of petty jealousy.

Roy Kent x Reader

5.9k words

Warnings: Language, some tension and innuendo, angst that made my heart hurt

“She’s my assistant.”

“Poor thing.”

The words kept floating in my head as I leaned against the exterior of the building, thankful that the photographers had left hours ago, not that they’d pay any mind to me. It wasn’t like I was a gorgeous model, or the ex-girlfriend of a famous footballer. Not like Brittany fucking Brett. Brittany Brett, who probably had her tongue shoved down Roy’s throat as he forgot all about nights cuddled in our booth as Rose brought us our usual drinks at the pub. Or texting each other dinner plans while Ted went off on one of his incoherent rambles in his office. Or humming “Something Good” in my ear as he passed me on the pitch. Or the dozens of little moments of kisses and touches and glances filled with fondness, all seeming to hint towards the something real that Roy had told Jamie he wanted.

Honestly, I should have known better. He was Roy "Here There Every-fucking-where" Kent. I was no one special. Girls all over England probably grew up with his posters on their walls and screamed his name at games. I just happened to be the one to share an office with the man. I probably just provided him with a fun, flirty distraction while he waited for Brittany Brett, who the tabloids more than once referred to as Roy's "one who got away". In twenty years, I'd chuckle fondly as I recounted my brief fling with Roy freaking Kent with friends at a party, maybe make a viral post about his love for The Sound of Music, and be little less than a memory to him.

I’d have to be mature. Agree that what we had was fun and assure him that I could stay professional. I was sure I could at least get through the rest of the season before sheepishly thanking Ted and Rebecca for the opportunity to be a Greyhound and asking for a good recommendation.

“Shit! There you are!”

Keeley looked wild and panicky as she approached me. I groaned, not needing her commentary on Brittany Brett, who was probably a good friend of hers from Keeley’s modeling days, sharing that Gorgeous Girl™ bond that surely trumped any burgeoning workplace friendship.

“Are you alright?” she continued. “What’d he do to you?”

I rolled my eyes at Keeley’s dramatics. “Fuck’s sake, Roy didn’t do shit,” I muttered. “He has every right-”

Keeley shook her head frantically, hair flying. “What? No, Richard. Roy’s in there ready to pummel him. I’ve got Jamie trying to calm him down, which was probably not the best idea.”

“Fuck.”

I turned and rushed back into the venue, mentally cursing Keeley for helping me find shoes that, while gorgeous with my dress, were not made for running.

The party was still in full swing, no signs of drama. I turned back to Keeley, who grabbed my hand and led me out a side door, to a smaller party room that was clearly not prepared for any guests, judging by its bright lights and lack of decorations. Sure enough, Roy, Jamie, and Richard all stood there, Roy’s face uncharacteristically expressive. Of course, that expression was pure rage.

“The fuck did you do?!” he was bellowing as Jamie did his best to hold Roy back, sputtering something about calming the fuck down, Grandpa, which was clearly not helping matters.

Richard, showing no signs of panic on his face, held his hands up defensively. “Nothing! She just said she wasn’t feeling well and ran off! She is probably just in the bathroom.”

“Bullshit!” Roy nearly broke free of Jamie’s grasp.

“Roy!” I hissed, stepping forward to grab his arm as Keeley made sure the door was closed. “What the fuck?”

He turned his firey gaze to me, his eyes full of rage. “The fuck did he do to you?” he demanded. “I saw you run out of there like your fucking hair was on fire.”

“He didn’t do shit,” I said in a rush. “I wasn’t fucking feeling good. I had about a million drinks, in case you forgot. Needed some fucking air.” I huffed, crossing my arms across my chest. “You can’t kill one of your players. If nothing else, it’s bad for recruiting.” I stared at him, trying to ignore the warmth that I felt seeing the protectiveness in his face. “Just fucking stop,” I added quietly. “Just leave Richard alone and go out there and act like you didn’t just make an absolute arse of yourself.” I turned to Keeley. “I’m sorry about this,” I grumbled. “Clearly, I’m not the only one who drank too much. If this causes any issues in the press, let me know. I’ll help you clean up Roy’s mess.” I glared at Roy, who was still behind Jamie’s arm, though no longer trying to fight his way through the player. “I’m his fucking assistant, after all. Part of my job.”

Keeley shook her head and sighed, confusion in her eyes. “No, it’s all fine. Jamie and I were able to get them in here before anyone noticed anything was amiss.” She nodded to Montlaur. “But in case anyone’s being nosy, Richard, you should head on out. Jamie and I’ll come along in a moment. That way it’s not just a big group of us coming out all at once.” She offered up a small smirk in my direction. “Though we’d probably look like we just had the hottest orgy in the history of football.”

Her attempt to break the tension with humor only worked on Jamie and Richard, who let out soft chuckles.

I approached Richard, not giving a flying fuck that Roy was watching me intensely. “I’m really sorry for Roy,” I mumbled. “He clearly misinterpreted what he saw and got protective.” I shot daggers at Roy again before turning back to Richard. “I hope this doesn’t make work… weird.”

Richard shook his head, completely affable despite the drama. “Oh please. This is nothing compared to the husbands and boyfriends I have had to deal with. Especially the ones that found me still in their beds!” He laughed amiably before glancing warily at Roy. “But perhaps I will not ask you again to dance. And, sadly, I will not give you a kiss goodbye.” With an awkward smile, he turned and walked out, the noise of the party bursting through the door before it closed again, leaving the four of us in silence.

Keeley popped her lips. “Well, that was fun.” She glanced at Roy, who was red in the face and pacing, then back to me. “You gonna be alright?” Her eyes told me that Jamie could wait with Roy if I wanted to leave with her. That I didn’t need to deal with whatever this was, and that whatever this was, she wouldn’t ask. At least, not tonight.

“I’m fine,” I assured Keeley with a weak smile. “I’ll be out there in a bit, yeah?”

Keeley nodded then grabbed Jamie by the arm. Jamie shot me an apologetic smile and landed a friendly punch on my arm before following Keeley back to the party. Once again, the room was filled with the sounds of music, dancing, and fun, before giving way to the tense silence.

Roy stopped pacing, his face now more of a pink than red, and stared at me. “What the fuck?” he asked. It was a hoarse whisper, barely leaving his lips, and his eyes were filled with question marks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I countered, perching myself up on one of the empty tables that dotted the room. “Why the hell were you trying to kill Montlaur? I know you think he’s prickish and all-”

“Because he’s a fucking prick!” Roy practically shouted. “And-and I told you I thought he was a prick to ask you out because we all know exactly what he’s interested in and then I turn and see you fucking clinging to him and suddenly you’re running out of the room looking like you’re about to fucking cry, what the fuck am I supposed to think?”

A hollow laugh escaped my lungs. “No. Back the fuck up, Roy. What happened between the dancing with Montlaur and the running out of the room?”

Roy stared at me in silence for a moment, his shoulders slumped as the gears in his head turned. “The fuck are you on about?”

“Okay.” I slammed my hands on my thighs and stood back up, making my way past Roy and towards the doors. “That’s how it’s going to be then. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. Lookin’ forward to seeing photos of you and Brittany Brett’s reunion in The Sun tomorrow. See you Monday.”

Roy reached out and grabbed my arm, his grip firm but tender. “Is that what this is all about?” His voice was as soft as his face, thick eyebrows raised. “Brittany fucking Brett?”

Apparently, I hit my boiling point. “Of course it’s about Brittany fucking Brett, Roy! Fuck! You spend weeks all over me, taking me out, singing along to the fucking Sound of Music at my place, you practically tell me you want me to be your date to this shit next year, you make me feel special, like I matter to you, and then you turn around and kiss your ex-girlfriend.” I pulled out of Roy’s grasp and crossed my arms. “Which, I mean, that’s your own damn business, I guess. You’re single, after all. She’s single. So, go. Be hot and rich and famous together.”

A deep frown twisted Roy’s face, his eyebrows more furrowed than I’d ever seen. “Single?” he repeated, practically spitting out the word. “You think I’m single? I’m not fucking single.” He shook his head earnestly. “I… I haven’t considered myself single since….” He glanced up at the ceiling and shrugged. “Well, fuck, since we kissed at your parents’ house surrounded by all those fucking posters of me.” He looked back down at me.

My breath caught in my throat as I gazed into those brown eyes that stared at me with that familiar anxiety swimming around. “Then… then why’d you kiss her?” My mouth felt dry as I prayed that the next words out of Roy’s mouth would magically fix things.

He shook his head earnestly. “No, no. I didn’t fucking kiss her.” He sighed and placed a tentative hand on my arm. “She kissed me. And I immediately pushed her off me, which you fucking missed apparently. Told her I’m seeing someone that I really like. And that even if I wasn’t- which I am,” he clarified tugging me closer when he realized I wasn’t fighting him, “-I wouldn’t want fuck all to do with her.” He looked down at me. “Don’t you remember what I told you on our first date?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re the only person that has ever made me feel like you want me.” He scoffed and nodded towards the door, towards the party. “How d’you think Brittney Brett made me feel? Like I was some fucking accessory, this thing that would get her photo in the press more if I was next to her. You would never make me feel that way. It’s one of the many, many things I adore about you.”

“Oh.” I looked down at our shoes, blinking as I turned Roy’s words over in my head, my stomach and heart doing flips that Olympic gymnasts could only dream of.

“Oh?” Roy dipped his head. “That’s all you’ve got? Oh?” A hint of a smile graced his lips. “Come on. Put me out of my fucking misery here.” His arm wrapped around my waist. “Tell me… tell me we’re okay,” he whispered.

His eyes were still full of that anxiety, but now it was mixed with hope as he bit on his bottom lip, waiting for me to answer. I gulped, my head spinning from the alcohol and the events of the evening and whatever woodsy cologne Roy had on that I knew he was wearing just for me.

Roy sighed, his hand tracing gentle circles on my back. “Or we could go out there and enjoy the rest of our evening, and we can come back to this tomorrow?” He leaned his head against mine. “Come on, I’ve got some dopey surprise for you. Been looking forward to it all night. Real fucking romantic.”

I lifted my head. “You’ve got a surprise for me?” The corners of my mouth turned upwards in spite of myself. “A romantic one?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, tapping his nose against mine. “So why don’t we get back out there before Keeley tells everyone we’re shagging in here?” He squinted at me. “Unless…”

Now completely smiling, I smacked Roy’s arm. “Come on. I want to see this surprise.” I slipped out of Roy’s grasp and took his hand, leading him towards the door. Just before I reached for the doorknob, Roy pulled me back to himself. “What?” I laughed, the weight on my chest dissipating.

“Just gotta do this first.” His hand cupped my face and he leaned close, pressing his lips to mine for the first time that evening. His grip on me tightened as his lips parted slightly, allowing me to taste the beer he’d been drinking all night. In the back of my head, I thanked Keeley for her high-end, smudge-free lipstick that would hopefully not create an obvious mess on Roy’s face.

When we parted, Roy smiled at me. As if he could read my mind, he hummed, “Am I wearing your lipstick now?” In response, I simply wiped away the small spot of red that I had left on the edge of his mouth, then shook my head to confirm that he was good. He studied my lips carefully. “Alright. If we don’t go out there now, we might never leave.”

He opened the door and gestured for me to lead the way like a gentleman, keeping a friendly distance as we rejoined the festivities.

“Alright, Kent,” I started over the music. “What’s this surprise?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “Should be happening in about three minutes,” he mumbled. “Why don’t we grab a drink?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Only if I can come to the bar with you,” I teased dryly, hoping it wasn’t too soon to joke.

His dramatic eyeroll assured me it wasn’t. “Come on then.”

As we walked to the bar, we passed Jamie and Keeley, who both eyed us curiously. Roy gave them a curt nod and I shot Keeley a small thumbs up, assuring her that all was good. I knew she’d either corner me later in the night with cheeky accusations or call me the next day demanding details of what had happened in that room after they left, but for now, all I wanted to do was be with Roy.

Once we were settled at the bar, drinks in hand, I turned to Roy. “Alright, what’s the surprise?”

He shook his head. “Nope. You’ll know it when you hear it.”

“Hmmf.” My gaze turned to the dance floor, where our friends and coworkers were moving to the admittedly great band, having a blast. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched them and enjoyed my drink. “D’you ever dance at this thing?”

“Not if I can fucking help it.” His eyes wandered to the stage, where the band was wrapping up their song. “But I might have to make an exception tonight.”

I took another sip of my drink. “What do-”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the band’s singer, a woman with dark, wild hair and a flowing dress, called out, “we had an anonymous request earlier this evening that we are thrilled to fulfill. We hope there’s some Julie Andrews fans out there.” She plucked at her guitar, creating a familiar dreamy tune.

“Perhaps I had a wicked childhood,” she sang. “Perhaps I had a miserable youth.”

I turned to Roy, my mouth slightly ajar. “The Sound of Music. Was this you?”

He shrugged, placing his half-finished beer on the bar and taking my glass from me. “Do you see any other Captain von Trapp-ish grumps around here?” He took my hand and nodded towards the dance floor. “Let’s go.”

My heart hammered as Roy led the way. I wondered if everyone could see the flush covering my face, even in the dim lighting. On the dance floor, Roy kept my hand in his, placing his free hand on the small of my back while mine rested on his shoulder. He kept a respectable distance, not exactly a professional one for two coworkers, but nothing anyone would bat an eye at. Not that it mattered; I could not care less about anyone else around us. Not Keeley and all her teasing, not Richard and his flirtatious ways, not even Brittany Brett. All I wanted was to be close to Roy and feel his warm breath on my cheek as he quietly sang the words to Something Good in my ear.

The rest of the night was miraculous and wonderful. Roy assured me that I could dance with other people without him throwing another fit- so I did. I danced all night as Roy watched. He laughed with Keeley as Jamie and I attempted to do the robot together and smiled as Dani Rojas twirled me around and clapped as Sam Obisanya dipped me dramatically and rolled his eyes good-naturedly while Ted held my hand in an attempt to teach everyone some square-dancing moves. After a particularly fun salsa with Isaac McAdoo, I approached Roy back at our table, who held out a glass of water to me.

“Having fun out there?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

I nodded. “An absolute blast. My feet are killing me though.”

“Guess I’ll have to fucking carry you home,” Roy joked, the fondness in his eyes telling me that he wouldn’t mind one bit.

“Looks like it,” I agreed with a smirk.

The band’s singer called for everyone’s attention. “We hope you’ve had a fabulous time tonight,” she began. “But unfortunately, it’s time for us say goodnight. On behalf of Rebecca Welton and everyone at A.F.C. Richmond, thank you so much for joining us and for all your support and generosity. Here’s one more song before we go.”

I turned to Roy. “Are you ready to head out then?” A small part of me was hoping for some alone time before calling it a night.

To my surprise, Roy shook his head. “Did you really forget? You promised me the last dance.”

I laughed and downed the rest of my water. “Were you serious about that?”

“Dead fucking serious.”

He grabbed my hand and stood, pulling me up with him. He kept my hand in his as he led me to the dance floor, giving it a small squeeze as he pulled me towards him. He placed his free hand on my waist, just as he had earlier. But now he pressed me close to his chest, definitely closer than two platonic, casual coworkers should be.

“But don’t forget who’s taking you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be, so darlin’ save the last dance for me,” the band sang.

“Are you alright?” Roy asked, leaning down towards me. “Tonight…. Didn’t exactly go the way either of us had hoped.”

“No, it did not,” I agreed, wincing slightly. “But I think we did a good job of salvaging things, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Believe it or not, even with almost killing Montlaur, this is the best fucking time I’ve ever had at this thing. Mostly because I didn’t get auctioned off like a fucking basket of fruit.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “And because I got to spend time with you.” He somehow managed to pull me even closer, close enough so I could feel his heart beating. “Not nearly enough time though,” he added. “And I’m sorry about that.”

I shook my head. “We’re okay,” I assured him. “At least, I hope we are.”

“How about we talk tomorrow?” he offered. “We’ll have a good night’s rest and be sober, and we can talk about whatever shit we need to talk about.” He squeezed my hand. “How’s that sound?”

“I… think it’s a good idea.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, by the way.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “For what?”

“Saving the last dance for me.”

Roy walked me up to my apartment, his suit jacket having been wrapped around my shoulders since we left the venue. We paused at my door, the way we had for weeks now. He smiled down at me in that same way, softness in his eyes, lifting his hand to touch my hair.

“Well, I’m just glad the night didn’t end fucked,” he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. “You sure know how to end a date.”

“This was a date then?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Eh.” I shrugged. “Depends, are you going to kiss me goodnight?”

His mouth was on mine in less than an instant. He pulled me tight against himself, one arm completely wrapped around my waist as I pulled him down to me by his tie. His tongue grazed my mouth, asking permission. I obliged, tasting beer and a hint of the chocolate cupcake he’d shared with me towards the end of the night. His hand that was still tangled in my hair tugged a little, trying to pull me closer to himself. We were a tangle of lips and tongues and hot breath and soft moans, neither of us caring about the possibility of someone seeing us.

I pulled back mere centimeters, just enough to whisper, “You want to come in?”

Roy gave a little groan, pressing his forehead against mine. “I want to. I definitely fucking want to. But I think we should say goodnight til we talk tomorrow, yeah?” He stroked my cheek, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Want to make sure we’re on the same page about things.” He paused, his thumb ghosting over my bottom lip. “Come over tomorrow. I’ll make you dinner.

The disappointment I had felt a moment ago melted and gave way to delight. “Roy Kent can cook?” I teased, fiddling with his tie.

He smirked with pride as his hand rubbed my hip. “Fuck yeah, Roy Kent can cook.” He kissed my lips, pulling away as my mouth chased his. “Tomorrow then?”

I groaned and buried my head in his chest, drunk off the drinks and Roy’s kisses. “Fine. Tomorrow.” I looked up at him. “One more for the road?” I purred, giving my best pout.

“You needy thing,” he chuckled, planting one more kiss on my lips before pulling away with finality. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.

My mobile went off as I was lounging in bed late the next morning, smiling at Roy’s jacket draped over my bedroom door. I picked up the phone, my mind still back in front of my door, where Roy’s kiss had made my knees weak.

“Hello?” I answered, my voice dreamy.

“Alright, what the fuck happened?” Keeley’s squeals brought me back to reality.

I scrambled to sit up. “Morning Keeley!” I choked out, hoping I sounded breezy and casual. “How’re you? You have fun last night? Does Jamie remember doing the robot with me or was he too sloshed?”

I could practically feel her roll her eyes through the phone. “Oh no, we’re not playing this game. You owe me all the details about what happened with Roy last night. Spill.”

“Nothing!” I blurted, probably a bit too quickly. “We talked. He told me he thought Montlaur did something to hurt me and got protective. I mean, we share an office, we see each other every day, I kind of get why he’d be protective of me. Plus, you saw how much he drank, he probably doesn’t even remember what happened.” I cleared my throat. “So, we’re good. I’ll probably talk to him on Monday about apologizing to Montlaur, but other than that, I think we can all just forget what happened.”

“What about all the dancing?” Keeley challenged. “Roy never dances at the gala. Even when he’s brought a date, he’s good for maybe one dance. He danced with you what, like four or five times?”

I scoffed, flopping back onto my bed. “We danced twice,” I corrected Keeley. “As friends.”

Keeley hummed. “Oh, so you counted?”

“Shove off, Keeley,” I groaned, eyeing Roy’s jacket again. “Can’t you just accept that Roy and I are friends? I mean, shit, that’s headline enough.”

“Friends huh?”

“Yes!”

Keeley cleared her throat. “Then did your friend Roy Kent say anything about Brittany Brett? I’m desperate to know what happened there.”

My cheeks burned; I was hoping to forget that Brittany Brett had been at the party. “Nope. Didn’t say a word,” I said shortly. “Don’t know a thing.”

“Aw, babe,” Keeley clucked. “No need to be jealous. That’s long over from what I’ve heard.”

“’m not jealous,” I grumbled. But damn, I couldn’t resist the bait. “What have you heard?”

Keeley gave a small giggle. “Why don’t you come over tonight for a good old-fashioned sleepover? I can give you all the gossip like we’re little schoolgirls. We’ll throw on our pyjamas, get tipsy, sing some Spice Girl songs, crank call Jamie. Fuck, we can even go play knock-and-run at Roy’s place. Maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of him shirtless.”

Damn, this woman was a great friend. “Aww, Keeley, I’d love to hang out,” I started. “But I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Next time!” she gushed, unbothered. “What’s up tonight?”

“Oh, just some family stuff. Nothing too exciting, I’m afraid.”

Keeley gave a small hum. “Maybe brunch tomorrow?”

I nodded into the phone. “Sounds great.”

We stayed on the line for a few more minutes, making plans to meet for brunch at one of Keeley’s favorite places and agreeing that she should invite Rebecca to join us. After a couple more attempts on Keeley’s end to find out any dirty details about what happened between me and Roy, we hung up. Sometime during the call, I’d received a text message from Roy:

Can’t wait to see you

Of course Roy Kent’s house was huge. Of course it was. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the man was a retired football star. But standing in front of his house- mansion, practically- I was reminded all over again that this was the man on all those posters in my parents’ house. Roy “Here-There-Everywhere” Kent.

I stood tentatively in front of his door, debating if I should ring the bell or just send him a text to let him know I’d arrived. As I debated my choices and played with the hem of the dress that suddenly felt too short and too dressy, the door opened. Roy stood in the doorway, wearing the black slacks and shirt he’d been wearing on our first date. His eyes took their time eagerly traveling up my figure and to my face, where they settled tenderly.

“Fuck,” he whispered, cracking a full smile. “How’d you manage to look more gorgeous than you did last night?”

My face burned at the compliment. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I answered, trying to sound casual as he ushered me in. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Got some sensor shit on the door,” he explained matter-of-factly as he closed the door behind me. “I dunno, Beard set it up for me. Man’s fucking paranoid.”

“Hmm.”

That was all I could manage as I took in Roy’s house. It was spacious, airier and lighter than I expected. I smiled as I recognized photos of his niece and sister everywhere, as well as an older man I assumed was his grandad.

“Sorry I don’t have posters of you all over the place,” he teased, taking my hand to lead me to the kitchen. “Could you believe they were sold out of you at the administrative-assistant-poster store?”

“Oh yeah, I’m really popular,” I played along as Roy pulled out a stool at the kitchen island for me to sit on. “Let me know if you want my autograph.”

He turned to the stove, stirring something in a pot. “How much d’you think I could get for it on eBay?”

“Enough to buy a nicer house. Sorry to break it to you, Roy, but this place is a regular shithole.”

Roy practically choked on his laughter. “Oi, now you’re getting personal.” He turned and faced me. “I’m really fucking glad you’re here,” he said softly.

My blush returned. “Me too.” I sat up to take a good look at the stove, trying to see what smelled so delicious. “Need any help?” I offered.

“Fuck no. You just relax.” He nodded towards a fully stocked bar in the adjoining dining room. “Drink? Or have you sworn off alcohol after last night?”

I shook my head. “I’ll take a drink,” I assured him.

Roy crossed over to the bar, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder as he passed me. When he returned, he placed two drinks on the island, the same one I ordered every time we went to the pub. He then served dinner and laid one of the bowls in front of me.

“Beef tzimmes,” he announced, sitting across from me. “My grandad used to make this for me when I was a kid. First thing he ever taught me how to make.”

I could feel my eyes light up as I took my first bite. “Shit, this is good!”

“Glad to know Phoebe’s not lying to me then,” Roy muttered as he began to eat his own bowl.

We ate comfortably, drinking and laughing and sharing jokes, as if nothing had transpired the night before. It felt like every other time we’d hung out; comfortable, relaxed, but charged with the attraction we shared. God, it was good to know that we could still be like this.

Roy cleared the bowls and left them in the sink before helping me out of my seat. “Wanna go sit outside? We can have our chat.”

My breath caught for a moment as I remembered why I was there in the first place; a serious talk awaited us. Roy placed a reassuring kiss on my forehead and grabbed our drinks, leading me out to his patio. I settled in a loveseat while he turned on a set of string lights.

“My sister made me get these,” he grumbled as he joined me, handing me my drink.

“She has good taste,” I remarked as I leaned back.

Roy snorted. “In fucking lights, maybe. In men…” He bobbled his head, making a face. He caught my unsure expression. “Sorry. You didn’t come here to listen to me rant about Phoebe’s shit dad.”

“Not this time,” I joked, trying to break the tension.

He leaned back, laying his arm around my shoulders. “So,” he started, his face suddenly serious.

“So,” I repeated.

Roy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry again. Really fucking sorry.” He turned his body to face me properly. “I’m sorry for trying to kill Montlaur. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions and not talking to you. And I’m really fucking sorry you had to see Brittany Brett kiss me.” He shook his head and looked at me with those anxious eyes. “D’you forgive me?”

My heart tugged gently in my chest. “Of course.” I laid my hand on Roy’s thigh. “I’m sorry for screaming at you. And for trying to make you jealous. And for making you apologize to Richard.”

He frowned, confused. “You didn’t make me apologize.”

“No, I was saving that for Monday.”

“Fair enough.” He rested his free hand on top of mine. “Why’d you get so jealous?”

I shifted in my seat. “I mean… have you seen that woman? She’s literally a model.”

Roy shrugged. “So’s Keeley. You didn’t seem to care when she danced with me while you and Jamie did what I can only assume was an attempt at the robot.”

“Keeley’s not your ex,” I pointed out. “Brittany Brett is. And she was hanging all over you, and oh yeah, she kissed you.” I paused, letting my words sink in. “And I just don’t get why you were talking to her,” I admitted. “You say you want nothing to do with her, and that she made you feel like shit, so I don’t know why you would hang out with her at the bar.”

“No, that’s fair,” Roy agreed. “See…” He tilted his head back, thinking. “We went out during this really fucked time in my life. I was already starting to realize that I was passing my prime. And I was starting to get fucking scared that I’d never be a superstar again. And being with this internationally known model allowed me to pretend that I would be a hotshot forever.” He paused. “And then she dumped me for someone who was actually in the prime of their career. Which, obviously, felt fucking great.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I guess seeing her for the first time since then brought back some of those feelings of not being good enough anymore. And I guess I wanted to show her that I’m doing great.” He squeezed my hand. “Really great since I started seeing you.” He let out a growling sigh. “And once she started flirting, I think some part of me wanted to reject her this time,” he admitted. “But it absolutely wasn’t worth it seeing how things turned out.” He cleared his throat, looking down. “That’s some stupid shit, eh?”

I quickly shook my head. “I mean, it still hurt, but I get it now.” I paused, giving the ground a small kick. “I didn’t really appreciate the whole ‘she’s just my assistant’ shit though.”

Roy let out a dry chuckle. “Also fair,” he conceded. “Sorry about th-” He stopped, thick brows creased. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“I may have been eavesdropping,” I muttered. “That’s about the point where I felt really shitty and dragged Richard out on the dance floor to make you jealous.”

“Hmmf.” Roy stared at me thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?” I nodded. “D’you consider yourself single?”

I blushed, remembering the way I had yelled at Roy the night before. “Not really,” I admitted. “I haven’t even thought about another guy since the first time you bought me kebabs for lunch.”

“And I told you last night, I haven’t thought of myself as a single guy since that night at your parents’,” he reminded me. His fingers drummed on my shoulder. “I think the problem is, we didn’t think of each other as not being single.”

“What d’you mean?” I asked; Roy was talking in circles.

He shrugged. “I mean, I don’t think either of us would have been so fucking jealous if… if we both knew we’re both not single.” He glanced up at the string lights, face twisted in uncertainty. “Is that right?”

Something in my brain clicked. “Roy, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Don’t talk like we’re fucking thirteen behind a Tesco,” he snarled. “But yeah, sure, however you want to fucking call it.” He leaned close, eyes searching mine. “I just want you to know I’m yours. That’s all. And I’d like to know that you’re mine. Because if we know that, then all the other shit- ex-girlfriends and stupid French pricks- none of it’ll matter. Because we’ll know how we feel.” He shrugged. “What d’you say?”

I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his harshly, desperate to show him how heartily I agreed with him. “I think it’s a damn good idea,” I mumbled against his mouth.

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