#these are all solid candidates i think!!!

[crazycurly-77]

A well-meant Plan

Oh man, the boss could be really stressful. He didn't have any hobbies other than building his boat, which was probably the reason why he didn't pay attention to the time of day or night or to private appointments.

His mood also fluctuated between bad, worse and terrible.

On this day, the latter was more the case, which Tony and you have already felt.

After Gibbs had loudly reprimanded you both for the second time, he went to get a coffee and you could finally take a breather.

"Phew, it's best to avoid the boss today," said DiNozzo as he came to you for a short chat.

"Yes. And because we have to work overtime again, I had to cancel another date," you replied, annoyed and disappointed.

Suddenly Tony started grinning and shouted: "I got it! That's THE idea!"

That sounded interesting. You looked up at him curiously: “What��s up? Tell me!”

He leaned towards you conspiratorially, lowered his voice and said: “He needs a woman!”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. That was just too absurd.

“Are you seriously trying to set Gibbs up? Are you crazy?”

“No! Listen: he doesn’t have a private life of his own, which is why it doesn’t bother him at all if he makes us work overtime. A woman at his side would complain if he just sat in the office all the time. That would inevitably mean less work for us too,” he argued and paused briefly.

Then he continued: “Think about it… finishing work earlier and sleeping in on the weekend, being able to meet up with friends without constantly having to worry about being called and having to leave...”

The argument was extremely convincing and you were excited about his plan: “You know what? We’ll try it! And I already have the perfect candidate for it!”

Tony was thrilled: “Tell me.”

Grinning mischievously, you described your friend: “Sue is tall, confident, independent, pretty and has red hair.”

“Hey! She’s perfect! Call her right away!” Tony called out. You immediately picked up the phone and asked her to pick you up from the office in the hope that Gibbs would be back by then.

And indeed, he came back a short time later, fixed you with a venomous look, sat down at his desk and continued working.

A few minutes later, Sue arrived and immediately after entering the office, she eyed up Jethro and he assessed her. Of course…she had red hair…Tony and you just winked at each other. Your plan seemed to be working.

You watched with excitement as the two of them approached each other and actually made plans to meet up that same evening!!!

My goodness, contrary to expectations, it went brilliantly!!! If something developed from this, you would finally have a chance at a solid life outside of the office!

Your plan seemed to be working.

In the next few weeks, Sue actually visited more often to pick up Gibbs for an evening together. He was really in a better mood and he stopped calling you all the time after work.

But the longer the two of them met and the more often you had to watch them chatting intimately, laughing and leaving the office together, the unhappier you became.

You couldn't explain it, but it was true.

At every meeting, Sue raved to you about her meetings and evenings together with Jethro. She told you so enthusiastically what a gentleman he is and how wonderful their time together is that you could see the hearts in her eyes.

With each of her descriptions, you were happy for the two of them and were just waiting for the official announcement that they were a couple. But with every meeting, the stab in your heart and the pain of loss grew.

At first you couldn't explain it, but at some point you had to accept that you were in love with him yourself. But now the chance to be happy together was gone. And you had only yourself to blame.

While he became happier and smiled now and then, you became more and more sad. And when you couldn't stand it anymore, you decided to talk to your friend Abby about it.

Desperate and seeking advice, you sat in her lab and talked everything off your chest.

"Tony and I just wanted him to be happy again, but the plan backfired completely... I wish them both all the happiness in the world. And that's why I'm going to ask for a transfer."

Abby looked at you in shock: "Why?"

Sadly you hung your head and replied quietly: "Because I love him."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Jethro's deep voice suddenly sounded behind you. Damn. That wasn't planned.

When Abby saw him, she gasped and your heart almost stopped in shock. 

You turned red and wanted to flee, but he was standing right behind you and stopped you by gently holding your wrist.

That screamed for an urgently needed discussion between the two of you.

With a quick “I'll leave you alone and visit Ducky,” Abby left her lab to give you some privacy.

After she left, nothing happened at first. Neither of you knew how to begin, even though there was so much to discuss.

Silently and with a thousand questions in his eyes, Gibbs looked at you and finally asked quietly: "Why didn't you say anything?"

You were very uncomfortable being confronted by him about this, which is why you tried to evade him with an equally quiet "It doesn't matter."

"No, it DOES matter!" he insisted in a firm voice while he continued to hold your wrist, fearing that you would run away as soon as he let go of you.

"No, it doesn't." Your desperation grew. How were you supposed to explain to him what was going on inside you? He would only say that he wanted Sue and not you and that you should forget everything.

You knew that this was probably best, but you couldn't bear to hear those words from him.

But he showed no mercy and continued to try to get you to talk. He looked you straight in the eyes and spoke forcefully:

"It DOES matter to ME. So why? Why didn't you talk to me?"

That look that felt like he could see into the very depths of your soul... you could no longer withstand it.

Sighing deeply and closing your eyes, you gave up your resistance.

You gathered all your courage, opened your eyes again and looked at him firmly. "I wanted you to be happy and that's why I set you two up. But over time I realized that it hurt me to see you leave the office together." 

You had managed the first part of your confession. But the hardest part was still to come and the thought of it made your heart sink.

A big lump formed in your throat and you tried with all your might to hold back your tears. But that was no longer possible and you felt them slowly starting to run down your cheeks.

Jethro didn't say a word during your little break. He stood in front of you and still looked at you expectantly. When he saw your tears, he began to stroke your arms soothingly and maybe help you somehow.

"Every time Sue talked about your time together and I saw how she beamed with happiness, I was happy for you. But it hurt me so much and every time I think my heart is going to break into a thousand pieces with grief," you said, getting quieter and quieter, trying to reveal your inner feelings to him. 

With every word you spoke, your hopelessness grew. But the worst was yet to come: releasing him. It felt like you were ripping your own heart out, but it had to be done. For Sue. But mostly for him.

You hung your head and collected yourself one last time before you could look at him again. He was completely blurred through your veil of tears. If you hadn't felt so miserable, you would have found it amusing. But no, you weren't in the mood to laugh at all.

Jethro continued to hold your hand patiently, stroked the back of your hand soothingly and waited. He had the feeling that you weren't finished yet. So he waited.

Finally, you continued: "I'm very happy for you two and wish you all the happiness in the world."

Then you took a deep breath and started again: "...and that's why I'm going."

Your words took the ground from under Gibbs' feet and all his self-confidence was gone. He couldn't let you go. He had to somehow convince you to stay with him. He couldn't lose you.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. You just looked deep into each other's eyes in the hope of finding out what the other was thinking.

Then he stroked your cheek with his thumb and wiped away your tears. "You silly thing," he scolded you gently.

He carefully put his arm around your neck and came closer and closer to you. He hoped fervently that you wouldn't run away.

He closed his eyes and blew a tender kiss on your lips. When he noticed that you didn't resist, he softly placed his lips on yours and gently pulled you towards him.

It was enough to make you melt. For both of you, it was finally the fulfillment of all your dreams, but suddenly you tore yourself away from him and slapped him.

"How dare you?!” you hissed at him.

You had just torn him out of a beautiful world and he no longer understood anything. In his confusion he just stared at you: "What do you mean?"

You wavered between the breathtaking feeling of being in his arms and pure despair. Why didn't he understand that?

"How dare you kiss me? Kiss the woman you love instead!" was your advice to him.

"Yes, exactly," he agreed and took another step towards you.

"What are you doing?" you asked cautiously.

He grinned confidently: "Follow your advice." Before you could react, he grabbed you, pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips to yours again. At first you tried to resist, but after a short time your resistance weakened. And when his tongue gently stroked your lower lip and asked for entry, you finally surrendered.

As your tongues danced together and carefully explored each other's mouth, fireworks exploded in your hearts. That was exactly what you were both looking for.

But it was wrong. He was in a relationship with your friend, your mind switched on again.

Reluctantly, you ended your kiss and wanted to tell him that you shouldn't do that. But he gently put a finger on your lips and whispered: "There is nothing between Sue and me. There was never anything and there never will be. We only met and talked a few times. We are just friends. But I'm glad that it made you recognize and understand your feelings. And that's why I'm taking your advice... I'm kissing the woman I love.”

To emphasize his words, he kissed you again and you were absolutely speechless at his confession.

“But...”

"No buts."

Again he stole a kiss from you and now that he had finally tasted and felt your lips, he could not and would never stop kissing you.

“Do you still want to go?” he asked you almost shyly.

“No! I'm staying with you!” you cried, beaming with joy and threw your arms around his neck.

He burst with joy, took you in his arms and laughed “I'm so happy!”

The two of you stood in Abby's lab, hugging each other tightly, sharing the deepest kiss ever and it said more than words could have ever expressed.

The End

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Masterlist stories - Part 1 (finished ones)

Masterlist stories - Part 2 (finished ones and ongoing ones)

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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

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[seilon]

the waiting re: confirmation that I’ve been hired is actually making me insane good god I need to Know

[meduseld]

You know, one of the things I really liked about Thomas Cardinal Lawrence from Conclave is that he is that extremely rare character type in which his hypocrisy is actually a positive trait instead of a negative one.

Like throughout the whole movie he decries his flaws and the reasons why he shouldn't get the job, while propping up friends and candidates with the same vibes as him. Benitez even points it out, Lawrence has his vote because he doesn't want it, and wins for similar reasons. Lawrence gives a speech about having an imperfect Pope, one with doubts, thinking of Bellini of course and completely missing how it all applies to him. He's amazed that it was taken as a campaign speech, since he will vote for an imperfect candidate but thinks that as HE is imperfect he should not be a candidate, but why wouldn't he be to others?

He even cops to, as Bellini accused, having thought of a papal name. The script even says:

He takes the Pope's "you're a manager" comment to heart as a bad thing, but is it? The farm does need a manager, in fact the Holy Father IS an Administrator. The fact that it is a Church doesn't really change that. And like Lawrence *is* a good admin/manager, he steers the Conclave, he is a solid candidate, he gets people, he keeps his morals...

It's just. Normally hypocrite characters are that way because they are blind, willfully or not, to their flaws. Lawrence is the rare one that is a hypocrite because he is *all too aware* of his own flaws, even if he can see how they might be an asset in others, because of or despite.

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[luludeluluramblings]

dream team back. we’re currently yapping central again (per usual)

both of us are straight up in a tim drake brainrot spiral too!!! he’s a delightful little weirdo. a strange little gentleman if you will.

tim is such a funny little guy!!! he also makes a solid yandere. you can’t outsmart him. you can’t escape someone who can find everything about you. On the upside, I feel like he’d be happy to spoil his darling. also he’d be like, really considerate in weird ways??? I mean like you don’t get privacy (or you get the illusion of it maybe but not actual privacy.)

like yeah you’re always being watched in some way, but the man has committed every single one of your favorites and least favorites to memories. He knows what clothing you like, what specific features you look for in everything, and if he doesn’t, by god, will he learn. He knows your favorite song, and he knows the nickname you went by in elementary school.

Do you think he pretends to be normal and basically sets things up to send reader to be like a little love story?? You meet by chance, and he fell first. He fell a LONG time ago, so now it’s his mission to make you fall too. And Tim Drake ALWAYS finishes a mission. (Even as a baby daddy candidate). He makes himself the best option, even if he’s not the father.

Yandere!TimDrake x PastFriend!Reader x Aiden Cobblepot

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sooooo, I'm finally and slowly going through my ask box and you two may have sparked an idea just for Tim. I might have to do a Part Two for this. (I'm falling into the WIP trap. Help!) But, I love the thought of the Bat Family have competition when it comes to their darling. Gives them a challenge. Plus, I really wanted to use Aiden Cobblepot for this. I've been wanting to sneak him into something.

A/N: We have neglected!Sib!Reader, but what about a Neglected!Friend!Reader? Fun idea. Tim already knowing everything about you only to find you’ve changed and wants to study you all over again. Only this time he’s keeping you! (I’m very fond of Tim. I think he’s difficult to write for me, but I enjoy the little stalker so much.)

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Romantic themes, Tim can be read as kinda platonic, GN!Reader

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You and Tim were once good friends. Well, he was your best friend. To him you were just a good one. High school buddies that would hang out all the time. At school only. And sometimes the rare gala you saw him at. It was rare you ever actually went to The Manor. You never asked to go. But, you had hoped to be invite.

Just like you had hoped that he might reciprocate that pesky crush you had on him back then. You had felt like it was so painfully obvious. Though it wasn't as painful when you finally figured out he was Red Robin and you waited and waited for him to tell you his secret identity. And, then you would tell him you already figured it out and you would look so cool.

Only, he never did. You both grew distant. You had put so much carful effort into keeping that distance from growing. Inviting him to hang out more. Asking him out for casual coffee. He always said the same thing.

"Oh, damn. I could really go for that right now. But, I'm just sorta busy. Next time though. For sure."

Over and over. He sounded like a broken character. Repeating the same phrase. One that you would hang around after the game was over to reminisce about all the fun adventures you both once had. However this was life not a game. You couldn't just restart and rerun the same adventures.

It made you ache when you finally moved on. When you finally pulled away. Because, Tim didn't even notice you were gone. His life to change. He didn't have to restart anything. You had lost your best friend and he didn't even care. It stung. It stung more than you realizing he'd never reciprocate your feelings.

But, like all things, time moves on and so do you. Leaving the past behind and starting a new game. One that you start to flourish in. Making new friends. Meeting new people. Building closer bonds and more healthy friendships. It had been interesting to realize how dependent you had been on Tim once upon a time. And, embarrassing. You can't help looking back on it with a wince. You almost want to reach out and apologize. But, that would be weird and you both live completely separate lives now. You hardly ever see him at galas now. Mostly because you don't go anymore.

Things, do change. You never expected your new partner would draw Tim's attention back to you. And, in such a terrible way.

You had a rough idea of what you were getting into when Aiden Cobblepot had asked you out to dinner. You figured he was only interested in you for your money or your half-decent looks or your family name and position. You had heard all the rumors about him, but still you went. Mostly, because you knew how dangerous he and his family were. And, you were… presently surprised.

He was a bit of an entitled asshole. But, he wasn't scared of getting dirty. You watched him lead you through the puddles of rain water and Gotham grim in the posh restaurant. He held more concern for you're clothing getting dirty than his, which were more expensive than yours. He paid for the date without flinching at the price. Encouraged you to try his own food from his plate. Talked about fond memories of the things he and his sister got up to as children while asking you about your own childhood.

Admittedly, you were easily seduced because after that the two of you became an item. You didn't even realize how official you were until he introduced you to his sister, Addison, and she was actually nice to you. Extremely nice. She did, however, threaten to kill you if you betrayed Aiden in any way, which was honestly fair enough.

Aiden and you were a bit on the opposite side of things, taste wise and morally wise. But, you both made it work. He continued his life of crime, but made no mention of it around you to keep you legally clean. You shared most of your life with him, letting him have a slight glimmer into normalcy. He liked to take you on fancy dates and show you a good time. You were happy to pull him inside just to spend personal time with each other. Of course, you both made compromises. Aiden had a taste for luxury, and you didn't mind indulging in it. Especially after you beat his ass multiple times in Mario cart. It was only fair you let him take you to a gala some point.

Little did you know that that was how Tim would come clawing and digging his way back into your life.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

For Tim seeing you again was like finding an old precious treasure. His life had gotten so difficult and complicate lately that just a reminded of all those old times was nice.

However, seeing you on the arms of the Penguin's son was a brutal wake up call. What were you doing? Had you hit your head? Was he blackmailing you? Drugging you? Everyone in Gotham could recognize the name Cobblepot and how dangerous they are. And, he remembers how smart you were so you couldn't have willing chose to be there. It's not logical.

For your safety, he reintroduces himself to you. Long time, no see. We should hang out some time and catch up. Only he means it. He can't let this happen. He can't let you fall in with a man like that. You're his friend. He'll win you over for your own sake. Ruin Cobblepot while he's at it because how dare he use you.

Even if you changed. Even if you don't smell the same. If your hair is different. If you dress different. Even if your very laugh had changed pitch, he knows you. And, if anything, he can just re-learn you all over again. It won't take long. He's done it all before. This time he'll savor though. This time he won't let you go as he pulls you back in. You were a good friend, this time he'll make you more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m starting to type up Part Three of Pregant!Reader, but I ended up coming up with another start to it with more drama that would be strictly for the BatBoys. The messed up drama in it sounds fun and challenging, but I won’t do it until I finish what I started with the blurbs I have planned included.

A/N: Smalltown!Meta!Reader Part Nine is going to take a while. I have big plans for it, but Pregnant!Reader is kinda outshining it.

A/N: I will post about the LoungeSinger!Reader and another idea I came up with that y’all might like that I’ll add to the concept list.

A/N: There’s a Tony Part Two coming, but it’s only halfway typed and still not that yandere-y. Need to fix that.

A/N: My asks box is full, so I’m gonna try to empty it, but I host Thanksgiving in my family and I’m also a Christmas nut, so I’m gonna be busy. (I have four Christmas trees in my house currently… But I’m not as bad as my in-laws! They had their trees up BEFORE Halloween.)

[ms-demeanor]

Not to be This Guy I’m sure you have 100000 asks about this but do you figure the trump felony convictions actually mean anything

Probably not, honestly. I doubt very much that he will ever serve a term of imprisonment after this conviction and it's not going to do anything at all to erode his support.

It does, however, mean that he can't own firearms. Generally speaking, in most states, in most circumstances without having to take extra steps, people who have been convicted of felonies can't own guns.

I don't think that matters much because I don't think he's someone who actually uses firearms, but if you're looking for solid, material impacts of a felony conviction that's the one that I can think of off the top of my head.

Other than that? I don't think it's going to do much. In most states you've got more of a right to run for office than you do to *vote* if you've been convicted of a felony (and, to be perfectly clear, I don't think that a felony conviction should bar people from voting or holding office).

I mean, I guess a lot of people are going to get a lesson on how ineffective norms are at stabilizing politics when you're dealing with people who don't respect norms.

Like you're going to be hearing a whole lot about "hypocrisy" aimed at the GOP from dems who are like "well don't you want to strip felons of their rights? Don't you hate criminals? He's a criminal!" when yeah no that was never actually the problem for the criminals the GOP hates.

And the problem isn't that he's a *criminal* it's that he's the personality at the center of a fascistic cult of personality.

Though honestly I think the extremists kind of blew their wad at J6 and sank into the background to lick their wounds when they realized they hadn't been able to drum up massive popular support for their movement.

I don't know the entire thing is a giant fucking tire fire make sure to pay attention to your local candidates and check in with the lefties on your local school board to see how you can support them.

[cazort]

Why I'm Enthusiastic About Kamala Harris

I've seen so much negative talk about Trump and we all agree with that, but I want to highlight what I like most about Kamala Harris and why I'm actively enthusiastic and excited about voting for her:

She is pro-abortion rights and pro- comprehensive sex ed

She would appoint good Supreme Court Justices.

She respects people with a diverse range of political views and would include some voices from both progressive and conservative perspectives in her administration.

She is unambiguously pro-LGBTQ rights, including not just on gay rights but also trans rights.

She would represent continuity with the Biden administration, an administration that I think has done a good job on most issues.

On the issue of Palestine/Israel/Gaza (where I am most critical of Biden), I think Harris is a significant improvement over Biden, and also offers the better path of the only two viable candidates, towards ending the genocide. She has spoken out against the civilian deaths and she has snubbed Netanyahu which is a huge plus in my book.

She has shown a willingness to change her views, such as how she moved from being opposed to decriminalizing sex work in 2008, to being supportive of it in 2019, and being initially skeptical of marijuana legalization in 2010, but coming to support it in 2015. I like a candidate who can change their views, but more importantly, she is changing in a direction I like.

She would be good on the economy; she opposes tariffs, and would continue the Biden administration policies which have led to economic prosperity.

She has a solid and fairly diverse track record of experience, working as attorney general for the largest state, then senator for that state, then VP.

She has worked to combat over-incarceration and cruel treatment of people in prison, doing things like reducing mandatory minimum sentences and working to reduce recidivism, opposing solitary confinement, ending private prisons, and ending cash bail. She has also pledged to use the president's clemency powers to release a lot of people who have been imprisoned unjustly or given unfairly harsh sentences.

She has a concrete plan to enact immigration reform that would adequately fund the processing of asylum applications and fix the backlog of immigrants at the border. And the plan has broad bipartisan support.

On top of this she also has already done some things to address the root causes of migration in Latin America, particularly people fleeing Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador

She is pro-net-neutrality.

She supports universal healthcare, but also has concrete recommendations for how to improve the current status quo.

She is pro-science, including on issues like climate change, COVID, vaccinations, and health and nutrition. Her mom was a scientist!

She is pro-Ukraine, wanting to keep Russia out of Ukraine and ensure Ukraine wins their war of defense and maintains their independence.

She is across-the-board better on women's issues, not just reproductive rights but also sexual violence and domestic violence, workplace equality and the pay gap, and women's issues in Latin America (which is related to the immigration pressure I mentioned above.)

She generally takes stances on foreign policy I agree with, being skeptical of leaders (Putin, Orban, Netanyahu) I want us to be skeptical of, and working with and looking up to the ones I want us to work with and look up to (Olaf Scholz, Emmanuel Macron). She already has a working relationship with many of these leaders too, and has a reputation of being both personable and tough, just what I'd want.

She's smart, well-educated, and surrounded with smart, well-educated, and wise people. Her campaign is stable and well-run, and I trust her to put together a team of competent advisors and run this country competently, probably even more so than Biden has done, and Biden has done a pretty decent job, exceeding my expectations even.

Harris also has an impressive list of endorsements. I can't possibly be comprehensive here, but it includes people as diverse as the most progressive Democrat Lawmakers (Bernie Sanders and AOC), some of the most conservative former GOP legislators (Jeff Flake, Liz Cheney), and over 100 former GOP staffers including a disturbing number of insiders from the Trump administration. This is telling! You don't see this sort of whistleblowing and defection from within the Biden administration.

The fact that Harris has racked up endorsements from people spanning the whole political spectrum from solid-right to solid-left and everything in between, impresses me. This is the sign of someone who is going to be good at getting people to work together, someone who will listen to a wide range of viewpoints and develop better policy and take better courses of action as a result. It's what I always want in a president.

In some elections I have been frustrated that I'm voting for a "lesser of two evils" but this time around I actually feel actively enthusiastic about Harris. I am excited to vote tomorrow and excited to finally be done with this election, and I am cautiously optimistic that it is going to turn out really well.

I encourage everyone to vote and make sure to make sure everyone close to you is also voting!

[honeyedmiller]

The Hills | Joel Miller

pairing: actor!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: no outbreak!joel, joel miller au, use of marijuana (reader gets high and joel takes a hit), alcohol consumption, enemies to not-so-much-enemies, joel is on his freak shit in this one, smut (fingering, ass play, cum eating, rimming, unprotected piv, spitting, m & f oral receiving, consensual choking and breath play), reader is lowkey a brat but joel is also an ass, joel’s twitchy palm™, two (2) ass slaps, reader is described to be wearing a dress and heels, mentions of usage of cocaine (non-descriptive and it’s neither reader or joel using—just had to add the warning), no use of y/n. if there’s anything that i missed, please lmk.

word count: 6.1k

synopsis: drugs. sex. fame. joel miller—the very man you despise. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.

a/n: shoutout to @joelsgreys for keeping eyes on this for me, for beta’ing, for letting me rant about this continuously in our texts, etc etc. ily

Hollywood: the definition of glitz and glamor, celebrities galore, and wild parties.

Right?

Sort of.

You’d been to these afterparties before—chaos, laughter, and drunk or high celebrities every which way. The afterparties that showed the real side of Hollywood’s favorite people. The afterparties where secretive sex ensues in a hidden room tucked in the back of the mansion. The afterparties where people let loose, had fun, and celebrated their wins, or the wins of their friends.

That’s exactly why you were here. This particular multi-million dollar home was chalk-full of familiar famous faces that would get absolutely trashed without the public knowing a single thing about their rendezvous, celebrating each other’s wins.

It was like an unspoken rule amongst all the attendees: what happens at the after party, stays at the after party.

Tess Servopoulos, a well-known actress, was your best friend. She always invited you to the award shows when she could, and made sure you were invited to the afterparties. In this case, it was the after party for The Oscars, where her other best friend was celebrating his wins tonight, taking home three Oscars just hours prior.

And it’s funny, because to you, the devil wasn’t down in Georgia. He was in fucking Los Angeles, California, and his name is Joel Miller.

Arrogant, conceited, and a complete asshole as far as you were concerned. You’d never had a good interaction with the man, always seeming to have targeted hatred toward you for no particular reason.

So you hated him right back.

Because, honestly, who the fuck did he think he was?

You didn’t give two shits if he was an A-lister. Good for him. His arrogance and asshole-ish nature was enough to make you roll your eyes at the mere sight of him. He was one of those people that everybody seemed to absolutely adore, thinking he was doing everyone a solid favor just by being in their presence.

And you think, the fuck does it matter anyway? Your opinion of one man in a room full of elites is about as relevant as a speck of fucking dirt on the bottom of some Louboutins.

You inwardly sighed and drank from the champagne flute that was placed in your hand once you maneuvered your way into the house. Tess dragged you along to say hello to people you’ve met before, and introduced you to those you hadn’t. Most of them were fairly nice, some remembering you from previous parties or recognizing you in god-awful candid shots that paparazzi took of you when you were with Tess.

Tabloids were always a funny thing. There were multiple times where you’d see a photo of yourself in public with Tess, plastered in some stupid celebrity magazine claiming you were her ‘mystery lover.’ Or, there were the times where they’d call you a gold digger; someone who wanted fifteen minutes of fame and all the “luxuries” that came with being acquainted with a celebrity.

You always had a good laugh with Tess about them, and she’d tell you that one day she’d share the story behind you: a college roommate who was her total opposite, but it worked. You were there from the beginning—she’d get casted in parts for commercials, then extras for TV shows, and then bigger roles like a supporting character, and eventually the lead character in many blockbuster hits.

You were her biggest supporter, there for her through her wins and losses. She was truly your platonic soulmate, and you, hers.

You always plastered a smile on your face when making your rounds at these things. Got a little star-struck here and there, but you kept your cool. Celebrities are human beings, after all.

The party was in full swing, people plastered and laughing loudly over the thumping music. Sometimes you thought these parties got a little ridiculous, but you knew this was a rare occasion where these people—faces of the public, under a watchful eye of millions of adoring fans and the scrutinizing media—got the chance to loosen up and be their real selves.

You swirled the champagne around your flute, babysitting the same glass from when you first walked into this party. You leaned against a crisp white wall adorned with what you were sure were very expensive paintings, observing the crowd before you.

The familiarity that drifted through the room was almost unsettling for you. Friends with arms slung over each other’s shoulders, casual and comfortable conversation—and then there was you, who didn’t really know anyone but Tess. She didn’t want to leave your side, but she’d gotten pulled every which way for a conversation and you didn’t want to ride her coattail all night, so you told her you’d get yourself another drink, maybe.

And you were going to, but then the room felt a little too warm. So, naturally, you ventured down another long hallway adorned with paintings and expensive side tables with vases that held fresh flowers that probably cost more than you’d ever see in your lifetime.

Your heels clicked rhythmically against the marble flooring as you made your way to two French double doors that led out to a balcony that was unoccupied.

Perfect.

You opened the doors and sucked in a huge breath of air, admiring the lights gleaming throughout the whole of Los Angeles as far as you could see.

And then you wondered, with every house and apartment and business that was illuminated with a soft yellow light, what each individual occupying these spaces stories were.

People that weren’t famous. People that had regular nine-to-five jobs. People who were desperately trying to make ends meet. People like you, you think.

You loved Tess to death. You’d do anything and everything for her, but Hollywood was secretly a massive headache.

You sighed as you tore your eyes away from the soft lights, opening your clutch to find the joint you brought. Just something to take the edge off and ease the fucking nerves that started coursing through you, unwanted and untimely.

You fished the pre-roll and lighter out of your bag, flicking the lighter on in multiple attempts, but no avail.

You groaned as you kept trying, but the realization that your lighter was done for had swept over you quickly.

“Son of a bitch.” You mutter with a heavy sigh.

“Need a light?” A deep voice asked from behind. A familiar voice. A voice with Southern twang that supposedly charmed every person that was blessed to hear it. A voice you couldn’t fucking stand.

You look over your shoulder to see Joel Miller in the flesh, clad in a crisp white button-down with the top two buttons unbuttoned, exposing his tan chest. The shirt was tucked into some black slacks, accompanied by shiny black shoes.

You hated to admit that he looked good. Real good. But you wouldn’t ever dare to admit that out loud, even with a gun to your head.

“No.” You said, turning back around. His footsteps become closer, and you roll your eyes before you have to restrain yourself from physically shuddering at the proximity between you two.

“Stop bein’ a brat and jus’ take the goddamn light.” Joel rolls his eyes, and you turn to face him. He’s next to you now, leaning against the balcony while holding up a lighter.

You eye him conspicuously, and he looks annoyed as he flicks the lighter on and off. You grit your teeth before slotting the joint between your fingers, bringing it up to your lips.

He easily flicks his lighter on once more, bringing the flame to the end of the joint. The small flame illuminates the space between your bodies, and he looks good with the soft orange glow against his tan skin, you think.

The end of the joint crackles and you inhale deeply, turning your body toward the lights of the city once more.

You blow out the smoke slowly, tilting your head to the side. “Thanks,” You mutter.

“Hm,” He hums, “Would ya look at that. Not that hard to use your manners now, ain’t it?”

“Shut up, Joel. Christ.” You rub your forehead with your thumb, eyebrows pinching together. You came out here for some peace, not to be annoyed and antagonized by the very man you couldn’t stand.

“Hey, I jus’ did ya a favor. No need for that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

“Jesus fuck, Joel, do you not have anything better to do? Shouldn’t you be fucking one of your whores by now or snorting coke in the bathroom with another beloved A-lister?” You roll your eyes and take another hit.

Joel didn’t like that one bit. He took a step forward, broad body hard to ignore with the heat radiating off of him. Your eyes trail up his chest and to his face, which was contorted with pure anger.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to me like that? You’re pissin’ off the wrong person, doll.” Joel’s voice is gruff, full of patience that was smaller than a piece of thread at this point.

“I don’t need to bow down to you just because you’re famous, asshole. You’re the one who’s had the problem with me from the beginning. I only reciprocate the energy I receive, so you can fuck all the way off with the superiority complex you think you have over me.”

“Why the fuck are you here anyway? Hollywood ain’t a place for naïve girls like you.” Joel quirks his harsh brow at you, like he’s challenging you.

Motherfucker.

“And who said I was naïve, cowboy? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know that you’re annoyin’ and don’t fuckin’ belong here. God knows what Tess sees in you as a friend n’ why she keeps invitin’ you to these things.”

Your blood ran hot as you stared at the man in front of you. His jaw was set in a hard line, clenching his teeth every so often in pure annoyance as he looked at you with utter hatred and disgust.

“I may not belong in Hollywood, Miller, but at least my fucking morals are right and I don’t pull bitch moves like abandoning my friends when they need me the most.”

You were infuriated and quite frankly so fucking sick of this man berating you when he should be the last person on this green fucking Earth to talk. It was a low blow, your last comment to him, but what kind of a friend was he to choose a woman he was so pussywhipped over instead of being there for Tess when she was going through a rough time?

It broke your heart to see her so upset that Joel chose another woman he barely knew over her, icing her out when she’d been nothing but a good friend to him. She forgave him, of course, after he’d apologized to her months later.

She had a kinder heart than you would’ve at the situation. You don’t think you could ever forgive somebody for that.

You already thought Joel was an arrogant asshole before that even happened, but that situation was the last nail in the coffin to confirm that he’s exactly the person you thought he was.

“I apologized to her. We’re good now.” Joel’s harsh stare never wavered, but the annoyance in his tone did. He almost sounded…sad.

“Yeah. Whatever.” You roll your eyes, flicking the ash off of the end of the joint before taking another hit. Your mind was already starting to become hazy, and the proximity between you and Joel was starting to make your head spin.

Your gaze flickered up to his face once more, brown eyes still locked on you. You furrow your brows, but before you can speak, Joel plucks the joint from your fingers. He puts the filter up to his lips and deeply inhales, and you frown.

“Get your own recreational drugs, asshole.” You mutter, arms crossing over your chest. Joel’s eyes trail down to your chest before moving back up to yours. A small smirk evades his lips, and he blows the smoke into your face.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat.”

“Fuck you gonna do? Spank me for not thinking you’re all high and mighty and shit?” The frown is permanent on your face as you assess him, not realizing the impact that your words had on him.

His cock stirred in his slacks at the thought of that.

He stubs out the half-finished joint before handing it back to you. You tuck it away in your purse before looking at him again, carefully studying him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s got a knowing look on his face, and you have to force yourself to feign disgust.

Because, goddammit, you probably would. You’d probably be all over him if he wasn’t such a fucking asshole. The rage you’ve targeted toward him has made you see past his rugged looks and charm, the broadness of him and the veins that protrude from his hands to his forearms and—

You’ve wondered briefly what it’d be like to succumb to it. To be like every single other person who melts for him like lava seeping into the deepest cracks of the Earth. Untouchable. Destructive. And yet, a beautiful aftermath.

“Think I’ll take that as a yes.” His laugh rumbles from deep within his sturdy chest. For a moment he looks so carefree, so light and happy while he laughs. It might’ve been at your own expense, but for the slightest second, you saw through the harsh stares and the hateful demeanor.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

His mouth snapped shut and his harsh gaze settled on you again. His nostrils flared as he glared at you, a heat behind his eyes you’ve never seen before. His palm twitches at his side and he opens his mouth to say something argumentative, but closes it after a second.

Before you know it, he wraps his hand around your forearm, dragging you behind him.

You nearly trip over your heels as you try to keep up with him, wriggling in his strong grasp. He wouldn’t let up.

“Let go of me you asshole!” You seethe, but he pushes you into a room—tucked at the back of the mansion—secluded from everyone else. Oh.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

You quickly realized you were in for it when he shut the door and locked it. Nerves buzzed in your veins and you inhaled a shaky breath.

He looked like he was some sort of predator stalking its prey with the way his eyes scanned your body as he moved around to the other side of the room.

“Real fuckin’ sick of your attitude.” He starts. You scoff at him and throw your arms up.

“Wouldn’t have to deal with it if you just left me the fuck alone in the first place.” You cross your arms over your chest once more, and Joel takes two large strides toward you before he’s standing so close that you can smell the whiskey and weed on his breath.

“N’ that’s the problem, darlin’, I can’t leave you alone. Been wanting to fuck that attitude right outta you since the first day we met.”

You swear your heart drops into your ass. “Wh-what?” Your eyes are wide as he walks forward, forcing you to move backwards until the backs of your knees hit the king-sized bed.

You didn’t even notice there was a bed in the room because the very man before you was insanely distracting.

“You heard me. You’re a brat, baby, n’ brats deserve to be punished.”

You swallow hard as a fire burns behind his eyes, mischievous and daring.

“Joel—”

“Turn around.”

You don’t even think twice before listening to his demand, turning around so you face the bed.

“Can’t hate me that much if you’re an obedient little thing for me, hm?” The amusement was oozing from his Southern drawl.

Your first instinct was to argue with him, but deep down you knew he was right. Maybe all the hatred you had for him had a little bit of desire sprinkled deep down in the depths of your core, unexplored and completely disregarded.

The thought of his hands on you excited you. You saw the way he touched women in the movies he was in. Regardless if it was just acting or not, you always ended up aroused after Tess would force you to watch any movie of his—especially the ones with erotica. She would tease you about not liking him, unknowing of the true abhorrence that stirred in your body. He was her best friend too, so you had to be cordial to him around her for her sake.

You tried to ignore him altogether, but where it got you now—pressed up against the bed as his large hands landed onto your body to tightly grip your hips—didn’t seem to pan out so well.

“Will you let me touch you?” His voice has a rough edge to it, the teasing long gone as he stares at your figure from behind.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He doesn’t say another word as his calloused hands slide around your thighs and to the front of your body. He presses himself against you, and the warmth he radiates off of his body alone makes you sigh.

He’s so sturdy and strong, just as you imagined him to be. You could feel his cock hardening against the plump of your ass, and you wiggle in the slightest to tease him.

He inhales sharply, one hand sliding underneath the hem of your dress while the other hand splayed out onto your stomach.

The skimpy panties you had on did a terrible job at keeping your arousal strictly within the confines of the lace fabric. The apex of your thighs was smeared with the neediness you refused to address, now completely on display for the man it was all for.

Joel’s hand skimmed your inner thighs, chuckling darkly as he traced the outline of your pussy with his thumb through the fabric.

You tried your hardest to hold back a moan, really. You fucking tried. As soon as the sound bubbled in your throat and glided past your lips, you could feel Joel’s smile in victory. He was always playing chess while you were playing checkers.

Well, check fucking mate for him.

“Didn’t know I got ya this excited, baby.” He grips the hem of your panties, sliding them down your legs. You step out of them and he immediately pockets them.

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You mumble, not wanting to feed into his already huge ego.

“Oh I’m sure I’m not,” He starts, breath hot on your neck. “Doesn’t mean I won’t ruin every other fuckin’ man for you. Bend over.”

You clench around nothing at his words, deciding that staying silent is better than digging yourself deeper into your own fucking grave.

You do as he says and bend over the bed, cheek resting against the soft silk sheets.

“‘M gonna fuckin’ make sure I’m all you think about after this. Fuck yourself with your fingers to flashbacks of tonight. Moanin’ my fuckin’ name all alone in your house, wishing I was there to take care of you instead. Fuckin’ brat.”

His words sound like a simultaneous threat and promise, but you just had to say something. You couldn’t let him completely have this without giving him some kind of shit.

“Oh please, I bet I’ll forget as soon as we walk out of this room. You’ve probably got a small dick anyway.”

And you know that isn’t true. He’s huge, and you know he’ll never let you forget about tonight.

A sharp sting blooms onto one of your asscheeks, the sound of him smacking your flesh reverberating off of the walls of the bedroom. You moan at the delicious pain.

“You n’ I both know that ain’t true, doll. Enough with that fuckin’ mouth of yours. Could put it to better use than talkin’ all that shit.”

His hands knead the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to get a good look at all of you. You almost feel embarrassed, but decide not to get into your head too much about it because all you want him to do is fucking touch you where you need him the most.

Your core was aching. You were almost ready to put your pride aside and fucking beg him to touch you. Almost.

You were about to give in when you heard him shuffle behind you, and you craned your neck to see Joel drop onto his knees behind you.

His eyes locked with yours as he gave you a smirk before leaning forward to bite your ass. You let out a small yelp, and his hand was quick to soothe the pain.

“Gonna fuckin’ set you right once n’ for all.”

And he brings a hand up to your core, sliding his middle and ring finger through your dripping folds. You whimper softly at the sensation, a small flood of relief coursing through your veins. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

Your hips start to rock involuntarily, and Joel tsks at you.

“Greedy fuckin’ whore, aren’t ya? Patience is a virtue, baby.” He chides.

“Goddamnit Joel.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to your own surprise.

Suddenly, Joel slips his two fingers into you, and your hands fly out to grip the sheets beneath you. Your eyebrows furrow together and relish in the feeling of his thick fingers scissoring in and out of your aching cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet already. ‘F I woulda known I did this to ya…” He chuckles, working his fingers in and out of you expertly.

He leans forward and licks up your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit. You can’t help the strangled moan that leaves your mouth, and you can just feel Joel’s cocky ass smirk.

He continues lapping up your arousal, more dripping out around his fingers and down to his wrist. It'd been awhile since anyone touched you like this, so you presume you were extra turned on because of that reason.

You didn’t want to give all the credit to Joel.

His tongue slid up and he removed his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue as he prodded it into your entrance and fucked you with it.

You were already a moaning mess, like you were on cloud nine with the way he was making you feel. He gripped both of your cheeks and spread them further for his own leisure, tongue dragging upward until it met your asshole.

“Holy fuck, Joel—” You choke out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he swirls his tongue around the tight ring. Your heart is thrumming in your chest and your pussy clenches around nothing.

Joel lowly moaned around you, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine.

You don’t know how long he’s doing this for—your mind is still hazy from the high you’ve been riding, pleasure wrapped around every single inch of your body. You lose track of time and immerse yourself in how he’s making you feel.

Joel pulls himself away from you, sliding both of his fingers back into you. This time, though, he teases your other hole with the tip of his pinky.

“You ever let anyone fuck this pretty ass of yours with their fingers?”

“Please.” Was all you could squeak out, because while you didn’t want to admit you never have, you were willing to give it a go. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, and if you didn’t like the way something felt, you’d just tell him.

He spits onto your asshole before grunting, “Relax.”

And you do. He slides his pinky into your puckered hole, and fuck you feel so full with him like this. He works his three fingers in and out of you slowly at first, each move calculated and precise.

He may’ve been an asshole, but he at least wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He picks up the pace of his fingers after he’s sure you can handle it, and the feeling of pleasure seizes your body as you shake underneath him.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. You can feel your orgasm rapidly building building building, the coil wound so tight that your stomach constricts in plea of release.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Joel I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

And you’re literally gushing around his fingers. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can. You think he’s saying things like there you go, that’s it, but you can hardly pay attention over the loud ringing in your ears as you try and come down from your Earth-shattering orgasm.

He slips his fingers out of you slowly, watching your body convulse sporadically from the aftermath of it all.

He grabs your body and flips you around so you’re laying at the edge of the bed. The fluorescent lights are blinding as you try and look at his face. You blink rapidly, chest heaving up and down as you try your damndest to find your bearings once more.

He’s unfastening the button on his slacks, and all you can hear is the rustle of the fabric and the thumping music outside of the locked door.

You wondered briefly if anyone—Tess, specifically—was looking for the two of you. You’d be mortified if she found you like this, but Joel was smart enough to lock the doors.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed he was pulling down his underwear, so when you looked back at him you gasped when you saw his stiff, aching length. Your hunch was correct—he was huge. His tip was red, smeared with precome and just begging to be taken care of.

If there was any time in your life to impress Joel Miller, now was your chance. You sit up on your knees and lower your head, looking up at him through your lashes, your mouth inches away from his tip.

The muscle in his jaw ticked furiously, brown eyes watching you meticulously. You gave him a small, cocky smirk before you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his tip, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste. You use one hand to steady yourself onto the bed, and the other to wrap around his length as you start to pump him slowly.

He inhales sharply, holding back a groan as you undoubtedly start to please him.

You set a steady rhythm between your hand and mouth. The wet sounds are obscene and nearly pornographic. A part of you wishes this was being recorded so you’d have something to watch back when you needed to get yourself off.

Greed is a tragedy, and tragic you were in this moment.

Joel’s hand flies to the back of your head, cradling it as you remove your hand and slide your lips as far down his shaft as your mouth would allow. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and as much as you were salivating, you swallowed around him.

The tip of your nose barely made contact with the wiry hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel let out the most guttural groan you’d ever heard.

“Filthy fuckin’ mouth, baby. Goddamn. Knew it could be put to better use than you—ngh—spewin’ that fuckin’ attitude.”

You hum around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. His pants were getting more rapid and he was becoming more vocal, grunting fuck and filthy, filthy girl.

“Shit, yeah, just like that doll. Just. Like. That.” Joel’s voice is hoarse behind his clenched teeth. If you didn’t know any better, he’d probably shatter his teeth with how hard he was clenching them.

And you don’t let up. Not even after a string of curses spills past his lips, and definitely not after he groans so loudly that it vibrates through his whole body as ropes of his come spill down your throat.

You’re in overstimulation territory, and he’s falling apart at the seams.

He pulls your head off of his length as he tries to catch his breath, sweat beading at his temples.

“Fuckin’ christ.” He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you again.

“Didn’t know I would be so good at that now, did you?” You tease, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a snarl.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says, and you laugh. He grabs your hips suddenly, flipping you around once more so you’re on all fours for him again.

“‘M’keepin’ my promise. Gonna fuck that attitude straight outta your goddamn brain.” His tone is serious, and you’re beginning to think he really isn’t fucking around.

You hear him pump himself a few times and you think about the dangerous threshold you’re about to cross with him. Would you regret it after? Would he?

It was like you were both taking a bite of forbidden fruit, specially picked from the Garden of Eden.

Fuck it. There’s worse things you can do.

“You on any birth control?” He asks, and you nod.

“IUD.”

“Good.” He says before sliding the head of his cock through your folds. Your body jerks when it catches your clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

Without another word, Joel pushes into you and you stretch around him deliciously. It’s like your body was begging for him to be inside you at this point.

“Fuuuck.” Joel groans, gripping your hips so tightly they’d probably be bruised by tomorrow.

You bite your lip to keep from screaming, because he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and the sting won’t go away.

“Move, Joel.” You plead, and he smacks your ass once again, making you flutter around his cock.

“Fuck did I say about patience? Christ, woman.”

You shut your eyes as you feel him become fully erect inside you, and you’re seriously going to cry if he doesn’t move soon.

Almost as if he’d read your mind, he started to thrust his hips slowly. It didn’t take long for him to set a pace, though, and he was brutally pistoning in and out of you.

“Fucking…. hate… you.” You spit pathetically, holding onto the sheets for dear life. He laughs dryly behind you, mumbling a sure before going even harder.

Your moans were getting louder and louder, and you truthfully couldn’t give two fucks who heard you at this point.

Fucking let them hear.

“Better hush up now, whole house could probably hear you with how loud you’re bein’.” He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t give a fuck,” You squeaked out, “Let them.”

“Attagirl,” His laugh was mischievous, pounding into you even faster than before. “Little fuckin’ whore loves takin’ this cock, hm?”

One of his hands moved up your body, causing chills down your spine and goosebumps to raise onto your skin.

His hand wrapped around your throat, and you moaned at the idea of getting choked out while he fucked you from behind.

One of your hands flew up to his, and he was half expecting you to yank it away. He was pleasantly surprised when you clamped your fingers down around his, silently urging him to squeeze.

And he did. You felt like you were fucking floating.

Joel didn’t let up, even when you felt the burning hot coil wind up in your core once again.

“Feel so fucking good– s–o so fucking— fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess. He pulls your body up so your back is facing his front, never letting his pace waver.

“Fucking you dumb on my cock, aren’t I? Listen to you, baby. Pathetic.” He laughs at you once again, but you don’t have any willpower to fight back. You just let it happen, because each thrust of his cock into you has your body turning into complete fucking mush.

“Close.” Is what you whisper, and Joel can feel your walls tightening around him. He chokes on a moan at the sensation, fingers tightening around your throat even more.

You can barely breathe, but you fucking love it. You love seeing stars cloud your vision like this. The heightened sensation of your orgasm comes crashing down over you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you silently scream out.

Your body convulses continuously as you try to ride out your orgasm, but Joel’s hand leaves your throat and moves down to your clit to rub at it furiously.

You cry out his name, your hands frantic to find purchase to anything as you try and brace yourself.

It’s no use, though. Your body is limp and your soul fucking escaped from you long ago.

“Where do you want me?” The urgency in his voice is evident, but you’re in such a daze that you barely clock it.

“Inside me.” You manage, and he groans loudly before he lets go, filling you up with everything he has. His body slumps over yours, both of you trying so hard to pull yourselves back to reality.

He slides out of you and you both groan at the loss of being one.

You turn over on your back, once again blinded by the lights. Your eyes flutter close as you assess everything that partook the last—thirty? fourty? you don’t fucking know—minutes of your life.

Your body slowly floats back down to reality, and you peel your eyes open when you hear shuffling. Joel is on his knees again, spreading your legs to look at his handiwork. He looks up at you with that same devilish smirk, licking up his spend from your cunt before hovering over you.

He uses his thumb to coax your jaw open, spitting his spend into your mouth.

“Swallow.” He demands, and you do as he says. You open your mouth to show him you did, and a satisfied look washes over his features.

“Hope you feel me leakin’ out of you all goddamn night, sweetheart.”

You look at him incredulously, reality crashing down with the unwavering truth: you and Joel really fucked.

He was inches away from your face, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it would be like if he kissed you. His lips looked so soft.

But that would make it too complicated. It would turn into a thing you didn’t need it to be, and you knew kissing him would make the probability of hating him into a fucking zero.

Get a grip.

But, you catch him. You catch his eyes flicker down to your lips, the same thing probably reeling in his mind, too.

Maybe one wouldn’t hurt.

No. You wouldn’t allow it for yourself. He can take his Southern charm and shove it up his ass.

You cleared your throat and moved to stand up. Your legs were shaky at first, but you found your grounding as you walked over to the mirror on the other side of the room.

You straightened out your appearance, making sure you didn’t have “I just got fucked” plastered across your forehead. Once you were satisfied, you turned around to see Joel sitting on the bed.

You nod at him once, “Joel,” and you’re unlocking the door to be rejoined by the thumping music and loud laughter, leaving him to stare at you as you walked away.

You made your way into the backyard, needing a breath of fresh air after everything that ensued.

“There you are! I was looking all over for you.” Tess pulls you into her side, giving your arm a playful squeeze as she holds you close.

“Yeah, I uh, went to smoke a J.” Which, yes, was of course partially true—but you’d probably never admit to her that you just got done getting your brains fucked out by Joel Miller.

She probably wouldn’t even believe you if you told her, anyway.

It didn’t need to become a thing, even if it was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

Sex you’d probably be having flashbacks about years down the line, just as Joel promised.

You groan inwardly, eyes drifting upward to casually scan the backyard. You caught a familiar pair already staring at you from across the way, and your whole body bloomed with aching heat once more.

Those brown eyes were accompanied with a sickening smirk, and two seconds later, a wink.

You knew no matter how hard you tried, and as much as you fucking despised him, it wouldn’t be easy to get him out of your head.

You were so fucked, you think.

The idea of admitting that you maybe didn’t hate him was unwarranted, but you knew deep down it was your reality. You really didn’t hate him.

And maybe, just maybe, these parties weren’t so bad after all.

tags: @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @punkshort @endlessthxxghts

-

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[innerfare]

Random Shanks Headcanons 

Summary: A random collection of Shanks headcanons

CW: None // SFW

———

Has a fake arm that he uses for gags. Only he and Yasopp find it funny. Beckman once tossed the arm overboard after Shanks ‘lost’ the arm in a pot of Lucky Roux’s stew, only for Shanks to enter the mess hall the next morning with another attached to his body. 

Can do magic tricks, especially good with coins and cards. A very skilled sleight of hand artist. Also not above using these tricks to cheat while playing cards. (Inspired by the coin game w/ Luffy flashback). Cheating is the only way he can beat Beckman, who’s by far the best player on the crew. But he doesn’t even cheat to win, he just likes the thrill of getting away with it; also enjoys the thrill of getting caught. There was a rabbit loose aboard the Red Force for a solid month after the captain tried to learn how to pull it out of a hat.

The best beer pong player in the New World, probably the entire world. Would challenge all of his enemies to a game of beer pong to settle their disputes if he thought they would respect the results of the game. Good at drinking games in general (has a little too much experience).

Is an infamous gossip. If a member of the crew wants word to get out about something, they just mention it to their captain. 

Enjoys playing matchmaker. Always acts as a wingman for his crew when there’s a pretty bar maid. The only one he never tried to fix up with one of his crew mates was his darling Makino. 

Are soap operas a thing in the One Piece universe? Because if so, he has a favorite that he never misses an episode of (fights hardest on Thursdays so he can be home in time to catch the latest episode of Search for One Piece, a pirate drama based loosely on Roger’s life. He particularly enjoys the harlequin character). 

Loves meddling in any drama that comes up aboard the ship. Sometimes even starts drama just for entertainment, like the time he told Lucky Roux that he saw Limejuice sneaking steaks from the freezer, or when he robbed Beckman blind and left traces of a turkey leg at the scene of the crime. 

Thinks childish pranks are the funniest thing in the world. Pranks prospective crew members to see how they respond; screens them based on whether they find his jokes funny. Beckman insists this is not the best way to do things but Shanks persists. But Shanks isn't just being childish. He's making sure everyone who joins his crew has a good nature as that is, in his opinion, the most important thing. If you can't trust your crew, you're dead in the water.

Was definitely posing when the government snapped the photo for his wanted poster but pretends it was completely candid. Has a habit of comparing his wanted poster to the posters of his enemies.

He also uses his wanted poster to fish for compliments, especially from his crew. “That’s a pretty good picture, isn’t it?” “I don’t look half bad in that, do I?” “The real reason the marines are hunting me- the sight of my wanted poster makes their wives swoon.”  

Refers to himself as, “that handsome devil.” 

Smells like body odor and weed, but in a Matthew McConaughey kind of way (that is to say, it works for him). 

Animals and babies always like him. He insists the trick is to act uninterested. 

He is genuinely good-natured, but he definitely uses his sense of humor to disguise how terrifying he truly is. Is a pro at lulling people into a false sense of security. Definitely slouches on purpose to seem less intimidating.

Secretly paid off Luffy's "treasure tab" at Makino's bar. Didn't do it just to be kind to the poor kid but actually because he believed Luffy when he said he'd pay it back in full and did it to annoy Luffy a decade or two down the line. (When Luffy finally goes back to pay Makino and she informs him Shanks already did, Luffy blows a gasket.)

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[ohsunnyboy]

coherent waves | lee anton ˚₊‧⁺˖

people say the first touch of fate feels like a circuit being completed. so why does lee anton's soulmate seem to hate him?

TAGS: soulmate!au, college!au, gn!reader, cute and awkward engineering majors!anton and reader, confessions in the rain, kiss!

A/N: this boy bias wrecked me SO hard i paused writing a sungchan fic for this haha self-indulgent SCREAMiing as always (to clarify, his mark is on his left, our right)

WORDS: ~1700

Everyone knows Lee Anton's face.

No matter what, everyone's got their campus crushes. The people they'd linger around a corner for in hope of seeing, those with soulmarks you wish would line up just perfectly with your own. Somewhere out there, someone's walking around with your first touch of fate around with them. It's for that reason everyone knows Anton as the campus crush.

It's impossible to miss the six feet of cuteness, the shoulders broad enough to span the Californian coast and the tan handprint branded across his left cheek. Lee Anton, the sweetest guy on campus whose soulmate was destined to slap him in the face once they met. Nothing in it spelt destiny for you, but it was definitely curiosity at first sight.

"Hey, are we okay? Just at group study…” And your brain sputters like a misfiring car. He’s right behind you, isn’t he?

You want to pretend you didn’t hear him over the bucketing rain – maybe even your thunderous heart. Without an umbrella, you’re screwed if you run down the library steps into the dark and you’d look insane to push past him back into the library. Damn.

Not once did you dare speak to him during the entire group study. Though the feeling of his curious eyes lingering on you alone lit you up like a fuse about to blow. No wonder he's asking you if you're okay. The entire time you acted like some tween with a stupid crush. Which you’re not. Clearly and obviously not. First year electrical engineering has enough problems to give you a migraine.

Something about being around him sets your brain off like a capacitor discharging. Everything firing off at once, without a thought of where to go.  

"No? Yes! Yes. Fuck – sorry. We’re fine." Is what you come up with.

And some boy can apparently render you stupid within two feet of him. Someone needs to remind you how you’re a candidate for the dean’s list again.

Your stilted answer and the ensuing silence cause the corner of Anton's lip to quirk into a grimace. "Ah – okay. Sorry, I'll see you Friday.” When he takes out his umbrella it nearly whacks you in the face before he starts to run down the steps, leaving not a glance behind him.

Ah, shit.

Stunned, you’re left with a) no umbrella and b) a burning sense of mortification about how badly that went. Before you know it, your feet are running you down the path he took. One problem at a time… c’mon fix this. "Hey! Hey wait up, please! Anton!"

Running in the pouring rain was something you never planned on doing tonight or any day of the week but for fixing whatever you’ve got with Anton – it seems worth it.

Whatever they used to say about stem majors being chronically unfit bookworms definitely applies to you, as your heart thuds in your skull and lungs start to give out. Somehow after months of trailing behind his broad back, you underestimated how quickly he can escape you. 

Finally, like a lighthouse in the night, his blue umbrella is radiant under the light of the bus stop. “Anton!”

Three months of dodging each other’s eyes and scampering out empty classrooms early, Anton’s eyes are at the edges of almost all your memories. You know his wide eyed look anywhere. But with as much grace of a new-born giraffe, you sidle next to him under his umbrella, unaware of the blush warming Anton’s face.

Thankfully there’s no one else about apart from him to watch you keel over for a solid minute to gather your breath. Internally you think you’re as bright red as the LEDs you use in the labs. That, and so soaked you’re sure you're waking up with a cold tomorrow. Though, it could be worse. It could be whatever happened earlier.

Caught again in his orbit, you feel it again. The charge crackling under your skin that makes you want to claw at it.

It’s a moment before anyone speaks, still too busy process what exactly is going on. Eventually you gain your bearings and look into his shifty eyes with resolution.

“Hey look – I’m super sorry about everything,” you blurt. “The entire thing with the study group and completely dodging you in class. I – well, it’s not on purpose but I don’t know why but it’s like I get caught in some interference feed within like a metre of you and I just can’t think straight. Everything just sort of fires off in an incoherent mess. I’m trying, I really do but for once, I just can’t explain it.” It pours out in what feels like one breath. You feel like you’re teetering on the spot, on the cusp of embarrassment or sheer confidence. At this point, it might just be both. “… Sorry if I made you uncomfortable about anything but you’re top of our year, so damn cool and collected all the time – I feel like my wires get mixed up.” 

There’s an ache in your neck from looking up to him and watching his reaction. Calm and collected as always. It must be the longest you’ve ever got to look him in the eyes properly. Until,

“Me too.”

Huh?

Anton pauses for a moment, worrying the inside of his cheek before admitting, “I… I really wished we could talk more but you’re always busy and I feel awkward butting in. You’re really intimidating in the group studies, you know? You know everything and get along with everyone so easily. I psyche myself out.”

As he talks, your cheeks warm in endearment and you shuffle closer while he’s distracted. The familiar scent of cherries that would haunt you around campus suddenly right under your nose.

“I mean, I thought you’d just be another person put off by this-“ he waves a self-conscious hand over his soulmark “-and being avoidant because of that. Though I guess I figured you didn’t care because you never lingered on it like… like everyone else.”

It comes to you all in pieces. Anton always ducking his head away, never looking anyone straight on, always pursing his lips and turning away whenever someone brought up soulmarks. Those rumours haunt him.

However, standing here you’ve never been more confident. You know your what your hand looks like.

Does he?

“I think it has a good story.” The look of disbelief he gives you is priceless but you push on. “I mean, mine’s just on my palm just like seventy percent of the population so it can be boring.” Under the light, you raise your hand to him, showing the contrasting darker skin on your right palm and the small shake of your fingers. Anton locks onto your mark with a laser focus that you’ve never seen before. “And besides… I think you know what your soulmark actually is.”

One step closer: you’re just a hairsbreadth away. So close you can feel is body heat through his hoodie and see your breath leaving goosebumps on the expanse of his exposed neck. In the reflection of his blown pupils you can almost see yourself.

He swallows, eyes never leaving your palm. "You know what everyone says about it." Anton chews at his lip, bitten raw from worry. It’s stupidly endearing whether he knows it or not. Instead of dropping it, you raise your hand, leaving it to rest on his shoulder in comfort. “That the only reason I get slapped is because I’m secretly an asshole?”

"You don't know that it’s a slap for sure.”

"Then what else could it be then.”

"Really, Anton?" you hum. He’s so tense under your hand you feel like he could shatter from where you touch him. His eyes dazed and lingering where your hand used to be "We’re both smarter than this.”

Under the streetlight, what he has is clear as day to you while you trace his mark with your eyes. The thumbprint that curls across his left cheekbone, to the fingertips that edge from his hairline to his jaw and even the light shadow that touches the corner of his lip – as if he’s pressing a kiss to the heel of their palm. "Whoever it is, they're holding you."

“…Whoever it is… ?” he murmurs.

Anton’s unwavering gaze finally bores into you. Two interstellar blackholes swallowing you up and bearing down. An infinite number of thoughts or none at all. All behind those eyes, calculating and calibrating. You wonder where he is in that brilliant mind of his.

“Do it.”

You’re so careful.

You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if you hurt him. Maybe this doesn’t work out? What if you’re just another person in the crowd watching and waiting for someone else. You knew from the moment you started high school, life was a bunch of problems that you had to solve. The sheer existence of uncertainty guarantees nothing in any aspect of your life. What is guaranteed already, what are the variables, what are you working with. Whatever this is – it’ll be another problem but not one you get to calculate – it's one you need to guess.

His skin is too warm, and your hand is too cold. Nothing sparks but something is complete in your heart.

It fades. The marks – yours, his, all of it. It recedes back as if it never existed.

"I told you so."   

The clatter of the umbrella is your only warning before his hands cup your face and he kisses you. He kisses you in earnest, softer than you'd expect and warm enough to make your knees weak. With a deceptive strength, Anton presses you back against a railing, and your arms loop around his neck, hands burying in his hair. Hidden muscles you used to wonder about, tense where you touch him.

Eyes closed to the rain, foreheads knocked together and not a care in the world. You’re pulled into him like air. Both of you are trembling with relief. Like coherent waves, you come together in sync and everything you feel is amplified between you two. It’s then you know exactly what was racing in his mind.

Smiling into your neck, Anton sighs. "I'm yours." His voice lower and a little bit breathier. It makes your heart skip a beat, and your mouth turns up at the corners.

All across your veins it’s like a current is pushing through your skin. Anton and you, a circuit complete.

blehh i'm rusty but i'm starting uni as a mechEng student soonish so wish me luck 🫡 a reblog or a like always helps to encourage more thank you! ⭒ masterlist

[skygemspeaks]

In honour of cecilsweep2023, here are some wtnv quotes that live in my mind rent-free. Feel free to add on more if you'd like!

...no pet is perfect. It becomes perfect when you learn to accept it for what it is. (Episode 2: The Glow Cloud)

Sleep heavily and know that I am here with you now. The past is gone, and cannot harm you anymore. And while the future is fast coming for you, it always flinches first, and settles in as the gentle present. This now, this us, we can cope with that. We can do this together, you and I. (Episode 12 - The Candidate

Time is like wax, dripping from a candle flame. In the moment, it is molten and falling, with the capability to transform into any shape. Then the moment passes, and the wax hits the table top and solidifies into the shape it will always be. It becomes the past – a solid single record of what happened, still holding in its wild curves and contours the potential of every shape it could have held. It is impossible – no matter how blessed you are by luck, or the government, or some remote, invisible deity gently steering your life with hands made of moonlight and wind – it is impossible not to feel a little sad, looking at that bit of wax, that bit of the past. It is impossible not to think of all the wild forms that wax now will never take. (Episode 21 - A Memory of Europe)

When we talk about teenagers, we adults often talk with an air of scorn, of expectation for disappointment. And this can make people who are presently teenagers feel very defensive. But what everyone should understand is that none of us are talking to the teenagers that exist now, but talking back to the teenager we ourselves once were – all stupid mistakes and lack of fear, and bodies that hadn’t yet begun to slump into a lasting nothing. (Episode 33 - Cassette)

Listeners, I do not know everything about Carlos and he does not tell me everything. That is OK. We are not one person. How lonely that would be! A couple who has made themselves one so completely, that they are once again alone. We are two people, separate. Unique. And joined only where we choose to join. (Episode 55 - The University of What It Is)

[qqueenofhades]

I understand how important it is to be able to criticize the President, and am not at all of the belief he should be beyond critique, but the critiquing of Biden makes me so nervous. (That's not to say I agree with every decision he's made - I absolutely do not). But I feel like people see things he's done wrong and decide they won't vote for him because of it. I'm not sure if enough people have the ability to see that he's done things wrong but also is our only hope of staving off literal fascism.

So many people talk about how sick they are of it constantly being a lesser of two evils situation, constantly having to vote for a candidate they hate because the other side is worse (I heard it in 2020, 2022, etc), and I guess I just- I don't really get it? We're here because they didn't do that in 2016. All of this could've been avoided had the result been different then. I just feel like people don't comprehend how different of a place we'd be in if Hillary won and engage in all this cognitive dissonance to make themselves feel better about being part of the reason she didn't.

Like.... this has been a long-running topic of discussion on my blog, not least because it is so inexplicable and maddening. It also shows how terribly shallow most people's understanding of the American political process is, and how toxic the "I can only vote for a candidate if every single personal belief/position of theirs matches mine" belief is, as well as how much damage it has done to American democracy even (and indeed, especially) by people who technically don't identify as right-wing. Yell at Republicans all you like (God knows I do, because they're the worst people on earth) but they vote. Every time. Every election. Every candidate. Whereas the Democratic electorate still holds out for Mister Perfect, and it very definitely is Mister Perfect. The amount of "evil HRC!!!" Republican-poisoned Kool-Aid that so-called progressives drank in 2016, and then afterward when they insisted they could have voted for someone like Elizabeth Warren and then didn't do that in 2020, is... baffing.

Frankly, I don't care if Hillary Clinton's personal positions on XYZ issue were the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill to Ever Shill (and Online Leftists' intellectual skills being what they are, I seriously doubt that they were using any of those words correctly and/or accurately). American policy is not made by "personal dictate of the ruler," or at least it shouldn't be, because we are not an absolute monarchy. We rely on the operation of a system with input from many people. As such, if Hillary had been elected, we would have 2-3 new liberal justices on SCOTUS and have secured civil and environmental rights for the next generation. Roe would be intact, and all the other terrible rulings that SCOTUS has recently handed down wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have had January 6th, the attempt to stage a coup, all the tawdry scandals, our national security being at risk because of Trump stealing classified documents and probably selling them to Russia and/or Saudi Arabia, etc etc. If you think that's in any way an equivalent amount of evil to what would have happened if Hillary was elected, or if she was "still evil!!!," then I honestly don't know what to tell you. She could fucking murder puppies in her spare time if she had preserved SCOTUS for us, WHICH SHE WOULD HAVE, BECAUSE SHE WARNED US EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

(Hoo. Sorry. Still steamed. 2016 war flashbacks, again.)

In short, Hillary would have been a solid continuity Democrat and she would have signed whatever legislation a Democratic House and Senate passed, not to mention been hugely inspiring as the first female president. But because it's so important to the Online Leftists' moral sense of themselves that BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME!!!, they can't possibly acknowledge that ever being a factor, and/or admit that they have any culpability in not voting for her in 2016. It's like when you read the British press about any of the UK's equally numerous problems, and they BEND OVER BACKWARD to avoid mentioning that Brexit might be a factor. They just can't mention it, because then that means they might have made the wrong choice in pulling for it as hard as they did, and blah blah Sovereignty.

Basically, if HRC had been elected president, everything would be so much less terrible and terrifying all the time, we would be talking about her successor in 2024 as someone else who could be the "first," we could explore handing the reins over to Kamala as a Black/Asian woman, we could promote Buttigieg as the first gay president, etc etc. But because 2016 was so catastrophically fucked up, we are in damage control mode for the immediate future and every election is just as pivotal. And yet, because people think that the only thing that matters is a presidential candidate's personal views, we're stuck having the same old arguments and desperately begging people over and over to please vote against fascism, since that somehow isn't self-evident enough on its own. Yikes on Bikes.

[anemicjellyfish]

Random theorizing and/or speculation post idk.

So I've said it before and I'll say it again. Helluva Boss is pretty damn good at "Show, Don't Tell."

While it isn't entirely devoid of expositional dialogue, it really doesn't seem like they rely on it heavily. Even with a few heart-to-heart moments between characters like Blitzø & Fizzarolli in Oops and Loona & Octavia in Seeing Stars, big dialogue exchanges are kept to a minimum. Character development happens over time and through on-screen events rather than sitting down and talking it all out.

This, combined with the show's tendency to both 1, let events come full-circle and 2, show generational trauma as a way to let characters break free of the molds set for them, is why I think Octavia might get the "Stolas Experience" soon.

Now, I love Octavia. If I could pick a character to make sure the writing team doesn't traumatize, it's her. (This is a No Hate Zone for Octavia and Stolas btw.)

What I mean is that Octavia seems to have been kept from the same expectations that were put upon Stolas his whole life. She appears to make her own choices and express herself in ways that Stolas wasn't allowed. I have a feeling that, now that she is with her mother and uncle, she will be held to a similar standard as her father (at least until she's of age, which is likely 18).

I feel like minimal expositional dialogue will come in to bridge the gaps in her knowledge. Octavia getting told she's "just like her father" as an insult when she's not adhering to new standards.

To bring it to a head, I also like to speculate that Stella will try to arrange Octavia a marriage of her own. When Via pushes back on this, the "just like your father" line may come back. I also think Stella will deliver the final nail in the coffin of Octavia's opinion of her parent's marriage here.

My personal headcanon of the line is something like: "oh, for fuck's sake, Via. All Goetia marriages are arranged. It's not like Stolas and I ever loved each other. *laughter* Andrealphus, could you imagine? Stolas and I in love?! How ridiculous..." (mocking fades into the background as Via processes what she just heard) But this is just fanfic-level stuff that plays in the background of my brain.

Now, to skip ahead just a little. There are very few characters for Octavia to turn to. The most likely candidate for a lot of us is Loona. It makes sense, as they've already shared some screentime & Octavia got some solid advice then. And I don't disagree at all. It's a good choice.

But I like to think Octavia has something in common with someone she despises, but who could never hold hate in his heart for her.

Blitzø and Octavia have some unlikely common ground in severing connections with those they care about most through an emotional response to feeling unloved.

Octavia's song "I Will Be Okay" uses fire imagery to burn photographs to symbolize her readiness to cut off contact with her father after she came to the conclusion that he never loved her.

Blitzø set a literal fire unintentionally when his own father valued Fizzarolli over him, and likely felt that Fizz would never love Blitzø in return.

While the parallel between them isn't completely perfect, Blitzø is uniquely suited to understand a teenager who is scared, alone, and feels unloved.

We know a good deal about the circus fire, but Blitzø really hasn't spoken about it to anyone. It's unclear if he ever went into detail about it to Fizz, and he only vaguely referred to it being "traumatic" when Stolas brought up Blitzø's love of horses.

I personally like to think that Octavia will be the one Blitzø tells about it all. I think he'll obscure the details of a teenage crush to stay on-topic. But the loss of a loving parent (Blitzø's mom/Stolas) and being left with a horrible one (Blitzø's dad/Stella) is something that connects them in ways that both of them don't realize yet.

This doesn't have to fix things. Confronting traumatic events doesn't mean those events no longer happened. Blitzø carries the physical scars of his past with him everywhere he goes, and the emotional pain doesn't always heal without leaving scars of its own.

Octavia could slowly rebuild her relationship with her dad over time. It's not impossible yet. But she is slowly gaining an understanding of how things work in Goetic society; she will likely know soon that she was only born to be an heir out of precaution. So a part of her is always going to be the teenage girl who needs reassurance that she's loved, that she isn't the obligation that she thinks she is.

Sorry for another incomplete post. My thumb is hurting at the knuckle because I over-extended it the other day and it's hard to type on my phone with just one thumb.

[blissfullyapillow]

┃Blade + “only for the mission”

₊˚⊹♡ Blade x fem reader

₊˚⊹♡ wc: 1,555~

₊˚⊹♡ Warnings: self inflicted injuries + scars (Blade), only one bed trope, fake marriage that develops into very real feelings, totally legit Stellaron Hunter mission, a meddling Kafka & Silverwolf 

₊˚⊹♡ Summary: Blade needs someone to play the role of his wife for a mission, and who else would be a better candidate than yours truly?

₊˚⊹♡ Pillow Talks: I had a random moment of inspiration as I imagined what Blade would be like if he was in a similar situation as Loid Forger. I could see it. (I'm being delusional)

₊˚⊹♡ Masterlist 

‧₊˚ ┊When Blade has to “marry” reader for a really obscure and totally real Stellaron hunter mission he was assigned to

𓆩♡𓆪

⋆〃You wonder why he chooses you of all people to be in a fake marriage with, but his reasoning is solid

⋆〃“We’ve worked together before, and we tolerate each other. I see no better candidate.”

⋆〃 If only you didn’t secretly harbor a crush on the unattainable man

⋆〃 Surprisingly a really great fake husband

⋆〃 Takes care of you and pays attention to details

⋆〃 He typically hates being cared for, but for you, in this instance, he’ll let his walls down and allow you to dote on him

⋆〃Cue a long pampering session where you unnecessarily give him a head to toe massage on his rare day off work

⋆〃He only allowed you to do it for the mission, though. Just to ensure you’re happy with your “relationship”

⋆〃Typically busy during the day; he gathers intel and often finds himself getting caught up in one too many altercations

⋆〃He starts to feel guilty when he returns home one evening and you fret over his many bleeding cuts, most of them of his own doing

⋆〃He can’t find it in himself to refuse your offer to patch him up. He has to swallow the lump in his throat as you delicately clean and bandage his fresh wounds.

⋆〃A soft, unexpected noise of surprise leaves him when he feels the soft press of your lips against his old scars

⋆〃“It’s only for the mission. I have to be in a suitable condition to continue fighting..” is how he reasoned with himself

⋆〃Yet his heart squeezed in his chest when he returned home the following day, with notably less self inflicted scars, and your radiant smile greeted him. He took notice of the unconcealed relief present within your irises

⋆〃He doesn’t know why, but it makes him feel good

⋆〃He has no idea of just how much of a hold he has on you

⋆〃One evening he brushed past you, squeezing by with just enough room, yet he used his hand to briefly squeeze your hip in passing

⋆〃the way your brain just shut. down.

⋆〃Your legs literally felt like jelly as he glanced back at you, only to send a little smirk your way before he entered your shared kitchen

⋆〃If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was flirting with you.

⋆〃… well, maybe he was.

⋆〃On a different day, when you two are in the process of tailing a person of interest, you wind up needing to share a bed. 

♡⸝⸝

“I can’t believe I slept so well last night.” You whisper. You yawn as you stretch your limbs, your butt bumping against something as you stretch your body in a cat-like manner. “Well, that makes one of us.” Blade groggy voice immediately erases any fog of sleep you had clouding your brain.

You yelp, craning your neck back to look at Blade.

He’s visibly tired, an arm around your waist as you’re suspiciously close to him, even after your stretch.

You make an effort to move away, but he simply drags you back. He won’t admit it, but he couldn’t sleep a wink last night since you both shared a bed for the first time. He almost offered to sleep on the floor when he saw the look of sheer horror on your face when you realized the predicament you were in.

You two got the last available room of the gaudy hotel you were forced to reside in, all to continue tailing the person of interest, but there was only one bed in this room. It was late into the night and Blade was ready to sleep. He wasted no time stripping until the only thing left was his pants, before he snuggled under the covers.

You would’ve found the scene cute if you weren’t too busy freaking out.

“If you don’t get in I’ll drag you.” You know that tone. He isn’t joking. His eye pierces through the dark and you can see them narrow at you. When you still don’t move, he gets up. He ignores your flustered protests as he simply picks you up and plops you on the bed.

It seems you have no choice in the matter.

In that instance, you quickly go through your night routine before joining Blade in bed.

You expected to be kept all night as you tried to retain your composure, but you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Lo and behold, Blade was unable to fall asleep.

Your body heat permeated his skin, and he found the sensation to be… pleasant?

He didn’t know how fond he was of the thought, but he knew it was true. Your body unconsciously moved closer to him, and his entire body tensed. You stopped moving for a few minutes, and Blade found himself slowly drifting off.

Unfortunately for him, you wind up inviting yourself into the comfort of his arms.

The content sigh you released melted his heart, and he couldn’t find it in himself to push you away.

And so Blade held you throughout the night, rotating between drifting off and being abruptly awakened when you shifted in his arms.

Since when was his body so hyper-aware of your presence?

𓆩♡𓆪

⋆〃When Blade inevitably realizes that you hold more importance than just being his lovely ‘wife,’ his attitude begins to change

⋆〃It’s subtle, but you know Blade well enough to catch on to the little hints

⋆〃He’ll return home with little trinkets or gifts, things that caught his attention on the way home. They reminded him of you in a way.

⋆〃What really caught you attention is when he returned home with a beautiful hairpin. He instructed you to turn around before placing it in your hair. “This suits you, and it can be used as a weapon.” His simple explanation makes your heart race.

⋆〃You cherish that hairpin. Every time your gaze lands on it, a very obvious smile lights your features. Blade notices this and it elicits an oddly pleasant feeling within him.

⋆〃Soon the end of your mission draws near, and you find yourself longing to continue the charade. Being Blade’s wife has honestly been a lovely experience for you, as surprising as it is to say.

⋆〃Unbeknownst to you, Blade holds similar sentiments.

♡⸝⸝

“It’s not like we’re going to get married and live happily ever after.” Blade’s grumbled words serve as motivation for your fierce retort.

“Why not?”

His head whips around, his wide orbs stare deep into yours.

You hold his gaze.

His lips part in surprise. Honestly, he didn’t expect such a response. A strange part of him likes the idea, and his cheeks flush at the mere thought.

“…Pardon?”

You start, blinking your eyes owlishly at Blade.

The ‘Pardon’ was very uncharacteristic of Blade, and the pure shock in his tone is borderline comical.

It causes you to break character, and soon you’re giggling as you clutch your stomach. Blade is not amused; he closes his eyes as his arms wrap around the shattered blade he carries everywhere.

When you finally stop laughing, Blade is the one to say something first.

“Is marriage with me something you seek?” His question is knowing in a way; it’s almost as if he’s seen right through you, and your breath hitches at the terrifying thought. Were you becoming too obvious in your affections? Well, that question has a blatant answer, but still!

“U-Um..” “Be honest with me.” His words are rough. His eyebrows are furrowed as his eyes slowly open to peer at you. His orbs hold your gaze. You couldn’t think of a believable excuse even if you wanted to.

“I… yes…” You squeak.

You think you see his shoulders visibly relax once he hears your answer, but you must be fooling yourself.

He quickly closes the distance between the two of you. You squeal as he harshly pulls you into him, and your voice is soon muffled by the rough caress of his soft lips.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

He groans; your touch ignites something within him that has been dormant for far too long.

He quickly pulls away, only to say, “I’ll make it happen. For real this time,” before his lips seal yours once more.

...

Well, this was an unexpected outcome.

But an entirely welcome one nonetheless.

𓆩♡𓆪

⋆〃When you both return to the Stellaron Hunter HQ, hands intertwined, Kafka and Silverwolf are the first to greet you.

⋆〃Upon the sight of your intertwined hands, Kafka’s smirk only deepens. Silverwolf rolls her eyes as she releases a dramatic sigh. You watch in confusion as Silverwolf fishes for something in her pocket, before she hands Kafka a stack of credits

⋆〃“Welcome home lovebirds. How did the mission go? Judging by the looks on your faces, I see it was successful.” Kafka is all too pleased with herself.

⋆〃Blade is a bit confused, still in the dark, but he acknowledges Kafka’s statement.

⋆〃”What of it?” Is his gruff reply. Kafka only smiles, a knowing glint in her eyes, and Silverwolf has a similar look of content on her features

⋆〃Who knew the Stellaron Hunters loved to play matchmaker?

𓆩♡𓆪

[catboybiologist]

Honest question, why bother voting if you live in California?

Like it's not going to change the outcome for sure

So the most obvious reason is that the president isn't the only thing you vote for. Local candidates and statewide measures are in the ballot too. And those are ABSOLUTELY worth voting for. This is big fucking reason number 1. California has ballot propositions right now on ending slavery as a form of criminal punishment, rent and housing reform, and a dangerous crime and punishment bill.

This alone should be more than enough reason to vote in California, I'm begging you (general you, not the asker, I'm p sure you're not American iirc).

As for the president, yeah, I was initially with your other ask that "voting third party will send a message", BUT, I've had some major shifts in how I view my vote.

One, no state is as safe as you think it is. I know "red California" seems like a fairy tale, but remember that we're the state that gave the world Reagan. There's a vicious undercurrent of neoliberal right wing mentalities here, and I don't want to abstain from the vote in the year that this current takes over enough.

Florida used to be a swing state. Now it's solid R. And there are endless examples.

This year it's not gonna happen, of course. Hell, we're Harris' home state. But I'm a little too scared to make that judgement call right now.

The other shift I've had is in the way that parties view their votes. These thoughts are way more poorly formed and I know people are going to judge me for them, so please don't pounce.

Major politicians don't view abstain or third party votes as protest votes. They view them as demographics that they've already lost. Permanently. They view them as either lazy young people who won't vote, or idealists who they can't appeal to. And yeah, maybe I fit that bill.

Right now, the messaging the Dems need to be sent is that yes, they can actually get a turnout.

Federal presidential candidates aren't going to try to appeal to people who are voting green. They're going to continue appealing to center suburbanites and forgetting about the left.

Does all this mean "blindly rally behind the Democrats"? God fucking no. It means plug your nose, mark a piece of paper, and hope they win because they'll listen at least the TINIEST but more when you raise hell in the future.

The question also is, do I believe in the Greens at all? Or is it just a "stick it to the Democrats" vote? And is giving the Greens legitimacy an unintended side effect, or an intent for that vote? I don't want to say personal answers to those questions

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 14: The Raw Moments

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: deadlines are getting close

Welcome to the chapter 14 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

It was a Friday afternoon when Coach Geno pulled Paige and me aside during practice. The usual buzz of sneaker squeaks and bouncing balls faded as he looked between us, his face serious but not unkind. The team had wrapped up their drills for the day, and the only sound now was the distant hum of the locker room.

"Alright, you two," Coach began, clearing his throat. "We've all seen the way you've been handling your relationship—on and off the court."

Paige and I exchanged a quick glance, tension creeping up my spine. We’d been trying to find our rhythm, but with the added pressure of being in a relationship while still playing for one of the top programs in the country, it hadn’t always been easy.

Coach continued. "I know there’s been a lot of attention on you both, but I’m not here to lecture. What I want to know is if you're solid. Are you working together, in all aspects, as a team? Can you keep it together both on and off the court?"

My heart pounded in my chest. This wasn’t a question I expected, not from Coach Geno. He had a reputation for being tough, but he cared about the team more than anyone.

"Coach," Paige spoke up, her voice steady but with a flicker of concern. "We’re solid. We’ve had our moments, but we’re figuring it out."

I nodded quickly, my nerves catching up with me. "Yeah, we’re good. We’re definitely good."

Coach didn’t seem entirely convinced, but his eyes softened. "Alright, good. You two are important to this team. But remember, balancing your personal life and basketball is key. Don’t let one fall apart because of the other."

"Understood, Coach," Paige said with a slight grin, her usual confidence returning.

I couldn’t help but breathe a little easier as Coach turned back toward the court.

As the weeks went on, Paige and I settled into our relationship more comfortably. Our bond strengthened not just in private, but in public too. We started to film TikToks together—goofy dances, behind-the-scenes footage from games, and candid moments where we weren’t playing the role of the perfect athlete and photographer, but two people just enjoying each other’s company.

Soon, the rest of the team joined in, and what began as a way for Paige and me to spend time together turned into something bigger. Kk became our unofficial child in the eyes of the fans, mostly because of her playful commentary whenever she appeared on our TikTok. People joked that Paige, at 23, and I, at 21, were the "parents" while Kk, at 19, was our sassy teen daughter. The comments flooded in, and the fans ate it up.

One night, after a particularly intense game against one of our biggest rivals, I sat in the team’s common area, editing the play-back footage for the team's film recap. I had been working on my final project for weeks, but I still felt like something was missing—something more personal, something raw that could truly show the essence of this team. That’s when the idea hit me.

"Paige," I called, her laugh ringing out as she exited the locker room. "I think I know what we need for my project."

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What’s that?"

"I want to capture the rawness—the moments where we’re not just teammates, but friends. The moments that don't make the highlight reel, you know?" I explained, spinning around in my chair. "So I’m going to get disposable cameras and digital ones for the team to use."

Paige’s face lit up with excitement. "That’s actually such a good idea."

"I want everyone to take two days with the digital cameras and capture whatever stands out to them," I continued. "The disposable ones, they’re just for whatever happens until the film runs out. I want them to leave personal messages, too—on the digital cameras."

The next day, I handed out the cameras to the team before practice. They all seemed a little confused at first, but they quickly understood the concept when I explained it.

"Alright, guys, listen up," I said, trying to suppress my smile. "These are for your personal moments. Capture the silly stuff, the quiet moments, the ones you want to remember. Don’t try to make it perfect—just be yourselves."

Ashlynn raised her hand. "Can we take selfies?"

I laughed. "Absolutely. Take all the selfies you want."

The team scattered, taking their assigned cameras and heading off to get some shots. I watched as Kk snapped a picture of Morgan and Sarah laughing over a game of cards, and Azzi caught a candid moment of Paige stretching before practice. Everyone had their own unique take on the task, and it was exactly what I had hoped for.

The next couple of days were filled with moments of pure joy and rawness. I spent hours on end going through the photos, picking out the ones that captured the heart of the team. There were pictures of Kk making faces at the camera, Aubrey holdings up a fist pump after scoring a basket in practice, and Azzi capturing Paige’s wild, carefree energy as she danced between drills.

But the most memorable shots were the ones taken of Paige and me. There were close-ups of us laughing over lunch, an accidental shot of our hands brushing while we walked to practice, and a picture of us sitting in the bleachers during a team meeting.

The Digital Messages

After the second round of digital camera shots, I set aside some time for everyone to leave personal messages. Paige went first. I watched as she smiled softly at the camera, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, I’m glad we’re doing this. You’ve been such a big part of this team, but you’re also a big part of my life. I can’t wait to see where we go from here."

I grinned, feeling my heart swell at her words.

Azzi, who was sitting next to Paige, smirked at the camera. "Look, you two are adorable, but if you break up, I’m taking Y/N as my new best friend. Got it?"

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "Noted, Azzi."

As the team wrapped up with the cameras, I sat with Paige on the bench, going through the footage one last time. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt so peaceful.

"I can’t believe how well this turned out," I said, looking up at her. "I think it’s going to be exactly what I need for my project."

Paige smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It’s perfect. Just like us."

A few days later, I sent out a teaser clip to my followers, showing behind-the-scenes footage of the team. Fans were blown away by the rawness of the moments—the way the team connected on and off the court, the way Paige and I clearly supported each other both as teammates and something more. The comments flooded in, some asking about our relationship, some calling us the power couple of UConn basketball.

Kk jokingly posted a video of herself and Ice, holding up a sign that read: "Official UConn Parent's Day—Paige, Y/N, and our unofficial child, Kk." Fans loved it, and our relationship became even more public. The next time we went live, the fans were ecstatic, sending us messages asking about everything from our favorite snacks to how we manage time together while balancing our crazy schedules.

This project had turned into something much bigger than I ever anticipated. And for the first time in a while, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be—with Paige, with the team, and with the love we shared.

It was raw, it was messy, but it was real. And that was exactly what I needed.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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